Meredith Webber – Midnight at the Oasis: His Majesty's Mistake (страница 17)

“The only photo I took was with the Argentine team—”

“This wasn’t a posed photo. It was candid. You were behind the stables and neither of you were happy. You looked as if maybe you were having a fight.” He saw the light dawn in her eyes and realized he’d been right. They had been quarreling, and probably about the pregnancy. Of course Ibanez wouldn’t want the child. He’d probably insisted she get an abortion, and for a moment Makin felt a flicker of pity for the princess but then squashed it. Emmeline d’Arcy deserved whatever she had coming. He wouldn’t spare her a moment’s concern.

“You were crying,” he added flatly, harshly, refusing to let her get under his skin again, reminding himself that she was shallow and selfish and without one redeeming virtue. “That’s when I knew.” He paused, studied her pale face. “I knew that expression.” And I knew those eyes, he silently added.

Now that he knew who was who, he could see how different Emmeline’s eyes were from Hannah’s. They might be the same shade, that astonishing lavender-blue, but the expression wasn’t at all similar. Hannah’s gaze was calm and steady, while Emmeline’s was stormy and shadowed with emotion. If one didn’t know better, one might think that Emmeline had grown up in a tough neighborhood, fighting for every scrap of kindness, instead of having lived an easy life in which luxury had been handed to her on a silver platter.

His chest grew tight. He told himself it was anger. But it wasn’t just anger, it was betrayal.

He’d started to care for her, just a little. Just enough for him to feel used today. Played.

And no one played Makin.

“So what have you done with Hannah?” he asked, his tone icy with disdain. “I want her back. Immediately.”

For a moment the princess didn’t speak and then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders. “She’s in Raguva.” She hesitated. “Pretending to be me.”

“What?” Makin rarely raised his voice but it thundered through the marble bathroom.

She stood tall, appearing nonchalant, but then she ruined the effect by chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I needed to speak with Alejandro about my pregnancy, but he wouldn’t take my calls, not after that talk we had at the polo field following the tournament. I was desperate. I had to see him. I needed his help. So I begged Hannah to switch places with me for a day so I could go to him in person.”

“And you couldn’t go to him as yourself?”

“He was avoiding me, and even if he would see me, my staff and security detail wouldn’t let me go. They’d been given orders by my parents to keep me away from him, and they were determined to follow those orders.”

“Your parents were right not to trust you.”

She shrugged, walked past him, leaving the bathroom. “Probably.”

“Probably?” he demanded, following her. “Is that all you have to say?”

Her shoulders rolled, shrugging. “What do you want from me? An apology? Fine. I apologize.”

Makin stood inside the bedroom doorway, astounded by her lack of concern. She was suddenly the epitome of calm and cool. How was such a thing possible? “When exactly did you switch places with my assistant?”

“Last Sunday. The twenty-second.” She moved across the bedroom to enter the walk-in closet. She pulled an armful of clothes out and carried them to the bed.

She was packing.

She must assume that she was going somewhere.

“That was a week ago,” he answered, leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest. Why pack now? Where did she think she was going? To London? On his plane? At his expense? How fascinating.

Emmeline nodded, emerging from the closet with a half dozen pairs of delicate high heels.

His brow lowered as he watched her place the shoes in tidy pairs on the bed next to her other garments. “And just how long were you planning on leaving my secretary in Raguva, Your Highness?”

Emmeline glanced up from the shoes, wincing at his sarcasm. He’d finally gotten to her. “I … I don’t know,” she confessed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her clothes and shoes. “I haven’t figured that part out.”

His gaze raked her up and down, expression merciless. “Unbelievable.” His chest felt blisteringly hot while the rest of him remained cold.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t even try.

He took a step toward her, and then another, hands clenched at his sides. “Who do you think you are? How could you put my assistant in this position? Do you know what you’ve cost her?”

And still she said nothing.

“Her job.” He was so angry, so very angry and yet Emmeline appeared remote, detached, as if she were above the fray. “She’s gone. Fired. I’ve no need of her services anymore—not here with me, or in London, or back in Dallas, either. She’s gone, finished, so be sure to give yourself a good pat on your back.”

Emmeline’s body jerked, shoulders twisting. “But you’ve made it clear that there was no one like Hannah—”

“There wasn’t. But you changed that when you asked her to shift her loyalty from me to you—”

“She didn’t. She hasn’t!” Emmeline leaned urgently forward. “She is still very loyal to you. Completely loyal. She loves working for you.”

Finally, he thought. Finally some reaction. Some emotion. But it was too little, too late, for all of them. He shrugged indifferently. “Good. She’s yours. She can now work for you.”

“Please don’t do that. Please. Hannah loves her job.”

“Maybe she should have thought of that before she headed off to Raguva, pretending to be you.” He started for the bedroom door, but paused to turn to look at the princess who still sat frozen on the edge of the bed. “And I’m not sure why you’re packing. I don’t know where you think you’re going, or how you’re getting there. Because you’re in my desert, my world, princess, and you’re stuck here with me.”

And then he was gone, leaving the apartment with his emotions running high, temper hot, feeling even angrier and more punitive than he had an hour before.

There would be consequences. And she would not like them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EMMELINE’S legs shook as the door closed behind Makin. She’d been shaking ever since he’d confronted her in the bathroom with the truth. Shaking with fear.

But now he was gone and she was glad. Glad he’d left her alone. Glad the truth was finally out. She’d hated lying to him. Hated pretending to be his perfect Hannah. And now she didn’t have to lie anymore.

It was better now that he knew the truth. Even if it meant he’d never speak to her again. Better this way. Better to be honest about everything.

And he could say what he wanted about her. He could ridicule her and despise her, but she wouldn’t give him the ability to hurt her anymore. Emmeline left the cool serenity of the white, apricot and gold bedroom for the garden.

She paced the private courtyard with the intensely sweet perfume of antique roses scenting the air as the hot yellow sun beat down, heating her skin. For many this palace would be a kind of paradise. But Emmeline had grown up in palaces surrounded by high stone walls and uniformed soldiers who changed position every four hours. She’d never been the tourist on the outside, admiring the pageantry and elegance. She’d been the captive royal inside the palace walls, locked in for her own protection.

And now, Kasbah Raha was just one more beautiful gilded cage.

One more luxurious but secure building to hold her, confine her, trap her.

And Makin was one more powerful man who thought he could intimidate her. Belittle her. Control her.

But she was done being manipulated and controlled. It was time she grew up. Wised up. Opened her eyes and used her brain. She had a good brain, too, and at twenty-five it was time she owned her life and made decisions for her future.

A future with a baby. Her baby. And how she loved her baby already. Her baby was the most important thing now.

“You look like a tiger in the zoo.”

Emmeline jumped at the sound of Makin’s deep voice and turned to see him inside the doorway, in the cool shadows of the air-conditioned living room. “So much for privacy,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

He shrugged. “You didn’t answer the door.”

“So you just let yourself in?”

“If I’m concerned about the safety of one of my guests.”

“And so now you’re concerned about me?”

He shrugged again. “I’m responsible for all the guests in my home.”

The edge of her mouth curled up. “Did you forget something? Or have you thought of another way to humiliate me?”

“I don’t have to, Your Highness. You do a great job of humiliating yourself.” He gestured toward a bench in the dappled shade. “But I do have news. Sit.”

She bristled inwardly at his sarcasm but refused to let him see how much he affected her. There was no reason for him to affect her. She told herself she didn’t care for him. Certainly didn’t need him. They were equals. And adversaries. “I’d rather stand.”

“You’re seven weeks pregnant. I’d rather you sit.”

It was clear from the curt tone that he expected her to obey, but he forgot that he had no power over her. “You might, but I’d ask you to remember that I’m not Hannah—”

“Trust me, I do,” he cut her off with a sigh. “So sit. There is something I must tell you, and it’s not easy.”