The Sheikh's Secret Babies Page 6

  Jaul was frozen in the doorway, only marginally conscious of his large staff now grouped in the hall to study him in consternation, desperate to know what had caused such a fracas in his deeply traditional household.

  And what Jaul did next would very much have stunned Chrissie.

  ‘Miss Whitaker is my wife...my Queen,’ he announced with quiet dignity in his own language, ignoring entirely the utter shock spreading across every face turned towards him.

  * * *

  Chrissie went back to her sister’s home and cried again, tears dripping down her face as Tarif looked up at her with his father’s eyes and smiled.

  Lizzie hovered, understandably unsure of what to say. ‘It can’t have gone that badly,’ she insisted. ‘Did he insist there would have to be DNA tests and stuff like that to prove the twins are his?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. I shouted at him and threw things at him while he stood there like a stone statue,’ Chrissie recounted bitterly. ‘There was no satisfaction to be had out of it at all. I wanted to kill him.’

  Lizzie had paled. ‘I’m sure relations between you will settle down eventually. Right now, Jaul’s probably in shock—’

  ‘What’s he got to be in shock about?’ her sibling asked thinly.

  ‘Discovering that he’s a father—’

  ‘I hate him. I’m going to go out tonight and have fun with Sofia and Maurizia,’ Chrissie swore, springing upright and dashing the tears from her eyes. ‘Jaul stole all that away from me!’

  Lizzie knew that was true but she deemed it wiser to say nothing. Chrissie had had a very hard time while she was carrying the twins because it had not been an easy pregnancy and all the pastimes of youth had been lost to her. Her little sister had had to grow up too soon and face heartbreak and betrayal at a time when all women were very vulnerable but that she had done so without a single whine of self-pity and had gone on to establish a career in teaching had made Lizzie feel incredibly proud.

  * * *

  It would have been a challenge to know which of the parties was the most surprised when Jaul showed up at Lizzie and Cesare’s home that evening.

  Lizzie hovered and hurriedly called her husband, feeling that Cesare would be politer and more diplomatic than she could be when forced to deal with the detestable man who had married her sister and let her down so badly.

  ‘I would like to see Chrissie...’ Jaul announced without a shade of discomfiture.

  ‘Unfortunately that’s not possible,’ Cesare declared smooth as butter. ‘She’s out—’

  ‘Out?’ Jaul repeated in apparent surprise.

  ‘Clubbing,’ Lizzie supplied with pleasure.

  ‘Then I would like to see the twins,’ Jaul advanced grimly and Lizzie enjoyed a first-hand experience of the stone-statue image Chrissie had employed.

  Cesare sighed. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible either. I couldn’t let you see the children without their mother’s permission—’

  Jaul’s gaze flamed bright gold. ‘They are my children—’

  ‘But it doesn’t say so on their birth certificates, does it?’ Lizzie cut in with unashamed satisfaction. ‘You’ll have to come back tomorrow when Chrissie is here—’

  ‘Where has she gone...clubbing?’ Jaul asked with distaste.

  And to Lizzie’s annoyance, Cesare gave Jaul information that she would have withheld.

  ‘Why on earth did you tell him?’ she demanded when Jaul had driven off again in his glossy limousine adorned with official Marwani flags.

  Cesare shot her a sudden unreadable look that disconcerted her. ‘He’s Chrissie’s husband.’

  ‘But she hates him!’

  ‘It’s not our place to interfere. Making an enemy of him isn’t likely to help anyone and least of all their children, cara mia,’ he reasoned.

  * * *

  Escorted into the plush VIP area of the exclusive club, Jaul was restless. His bodyguards had perked up though, he noted with a sudden amusement that pierced his exasperated mood. His protection team was overjoyed to be in what his father would have described as a ‘Western den of iniquity’. He stood on the balcony overlooking the dance floor packed with scantily clad girls below but his thoughts were far removed from the sight.

  Chrissie’s family disliked and distrusted him and in the wake of the chaos his father had created that was hardly surprising, Jaul conceded grudgingly. Even so, such a poor reception struck at his pride and his sense of honour for in twenty-eight years of life he had never once shirked his responsibilities. With the exception of Chrissie, he acknowledged bitterly, running through all the reasons why that had happened. He cursed his own pride and vanity for not finding some way to make enquiries of his own and check out what his father had told him.

  Yet such misgivings about his only parent would never have occurred to Jaul before. Jaul had been very close to his father and positively coddled. A man who had virtually panicked whenever his only child succumbed to common childhood illnesses was not a man to inspire distrust. Jaul tucked the memories away hastily, working through the bitter bite of his lingering grief for the older man while feeling disloyal about the vague doubts that Chrissie’s condemnations had stirred up.

  Instead Jaul found himself wondering how often Chrissie came to such clubs. He told himself that in the circumstances that was none of his business. Unhappily, traits stronger than reason and a bred-in-the-bone possessiveness for what was his quarrelled with that rational conviction. He was hoping that she had more clothes on than women normally wore in such places. He was also already questioning the wisdom of having followed her to such a venue. He had acted on an angry impulse, an urge that rarely led to a satisfactory conclusion. And in the same second that he was about to leave the club he saw her, a bright figure in a short fuchsia-pink dress accompanied by two other young women. She was laughing, smiling, clearly not in turmoil, he noted, gritting his teeth at the sight. He wondered why he was agonising when she, so patently, was not.

  Blessing her foresight in their exchange of numbers, he texted her, watched from above as she literally froze, full pouty pink mouth down-curving, shoulders tensing. Annoyance licked through Jaul’s long, lean frame at the clear message that his presence was as welcome in the club to her as a marauding gorilla’s. He summoned the waiter to order champagne and snacks.

  * * *

  Rage crackled through Chrissie when she read the text.

  Please join me in the VIP section

  Her one night out on the town in months and Jaul had to ruin it by reminding her that she was not as free as the other young women around her. Suddenly she wished she had a man in tow, rather than being with Cesare’s sisters, who were simply excited to death to be invited to the VIP section. But no, whether she liked it or not she was Jaul’s wife and the mother of his children and telling him to get lost wouldn’t work because Jaul was relentless about getting his own way.

  Once she had believed that Jaul was incredibly solid and trustworthy and honourable. She had virtually worshipped the ground he walked on and remembering that now made her feel nauseous. But then, to be fair, the night their relationship had at last changed into something more at university, Jaul had played a blinder, she recalled numbly.

  She had finally started dating someone while still suppressing her attraction to Jaul with all her might. Adrian had been blond, blue-eyed and sporty and as different from Jaul as day was from night. She had gone out with Adrian several times, enjoying casual dates in cinemas and cafés and telling him no when he got too pushy about sex. Back then she’d had a complex about sex and hadn’t known or much cared whether she would ever get over it because it had stemmed from something sordid that had frightened her when she was still a child. And she had never told anyone, not even Lizzie, about that sleazy secret.

  Adrian and his mates had taken her to a party in a big house and at some stage of the evening her memory had shut down. She suspected Adrian had put something in her soft drink and it had been Jaul who had foun
d her slumped by Adrian’s side and clearly out of it. He had stepped in to rescue her because he had known that, like him, she didn’t touch alcohol. Jaul had punched Adrian when he’d tried to object and had carried her out of the party. She had no recollection of the rest of the night, only of waking up the next morning to find herself safe in Jaul’s apartment. For the first time she had seen another side to Jaul. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He had stepped in to look after her when she’d needed help, had protected her from what could have been a very nasty scenario, making her suddenly painfully aware that he was miles more mature and decent than many of the young men she met. All her prejudices against him had crumbled that same day.

  ‘I would never hurt you,’ he had murmured.

  But that had proved the biggest lie of all. She was so angry with him, still so angry with him, she acknowledged ruefully, but what was the point of all that aggression so long after the event? Their marriage was dead and gone—that was the end result. Let it all go, put it away, she urged herself wryly, let him have his divorce and move on to a better, happier future. Their lawyers would be meeting tomorrow: the divorce would soon be rushed through for Jaul’s benefit.

  Chrissie sank into the designated comfortable seat right in front of Jaul and wondered why his bodyguards were bowing in her direction as if she were a real somebody. She looked amongst them for two familiar faces, but the men who had once protected Jaul in his university days were not there. Turning back to Jaul, she noticed that he was casually dressed, had actually got in wearing jeans and an open-necked white shirt, proving the point that entry to such exclusive clubs depended more on who you were than what you wore. The white of his shirt against his golden skin tone was eye-catching and a deeply unsettling tingle quivered through her slender body when she connected with his brilliant dark golden eyes surrounded by lashes longer and more luxuriant than her own. He was gorgeous, no point denying that, she allowed, her keen gaze tracking the lean, strong lines of his masculine features while she tried not to wonder who he was planning to marry next...

  Chrissie wasn’t stupid. After all, that was obviously why Jaul was in London in the first place talking about needing a divorce and fast. While he was planning to marry wife number two, he had discovered he was still married to wife number one. How very inconvenient, she thought bitchily while Sofia and Maurizia stared goggle-eyed at Jaul and sat down at a table across the way to happily tuck into the champagne and snacks laid out for them.

  ‘I hope my arrival has not disrupted your evening,’ Jaul remarked stiffly, striving not to react to his ringside-seat view of her long, perfect legs crossed, little feet he had kissed shod in glittery pink high heels. With difficulty he dragged his attention up to linger on the lovely face he knew so well, willing back the almost instantaneous surge of blood to his groin with an actual prayer for self-control.

  ‘Of course not,’ Chrissie lied, angling her pale head back, shimmering hair swishing across her shoulders like silk as she strove to be gracious for the sake of peace. ‘I assume you wanted to see me about something?’

  Jaul confided that he had gone to her brother-in-law’s home in the hope of seeing the twins.

  Chrissie was disconcerted. ‘You want to see Tarif and Soraya?’

  Jaul elevated a fine ebony brow. ‘And that surprises you?’

  Chrissie reddened in sudden severe mortification. She had told him he was a father and obviously he was curious. To have assumed that he would simply accept that news and walk away again had been sheer folly, she conceded ruefully. ‘I could bring them on a visit tomorrow morning,’ she suggested, prepared to show willing in the civilised stakes. ‘Before the lawyers kick in—’

  ‘The lawyers?’ Jaul repeated as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.

  ‘The divorce meeting,’ Chrissie leant forward and whispered, endeavouring to be tactful in the presence of the bodyguards who, it seemed, had not taken their eyes off either her or Jaul since the moment she’d sat down.

  Jaul recognised the restrictions of the meeting place he had chosen and cursed his inability to speak freely. He expelled his breath on a slow hiss. At least she was speaking to him again, at least she wasn’t shouting, he reasoned grimly.

  ‘Cesare’s legal team will soon get it all sorted out,’ Chrissie told him on an upbeat note intended to offer comfort. ‘He says they’ve dealt with much more complex stuff than this.’

  Jaul’s veiled dark gaze glittered and dropped down to the bareness of her left hand. ‘What did you do with the rings I gave you?’ he asked softly.

  ‘They’re in Cesare’s safe. I was keeping them for Soraya,’ Chrissie responded, wanting to let him know that she had not retained them for any sentimental reason.

  ‘They have Arabic names—’

  ‘A nod to their heritage,’ Chrissie cut in carelessly.

  ‘My grandfather was called Tarif—’

  ‘It’s pure coincidence,’ Chrissie declared deflatingly, lying through her teeth because she had named her son after his grandfather, reasoning that her baby had the right to use a name from the royal family tree. ‘I never would have dreamt of naming them after anyone in your family.’

  In receipt of that snub, Jaul wanted to punch the wall and shout, but he mastered the surge of anger with a silent, strong self-discipline honed by long months in a hospital bed and even longer months of painfully slow rehabilitation. She hated him; his wife hated him. He could sense the animosity still bubbling away below her newly calm surface, could see the sharp evasiveness in her beautiful eyes.

  He had brought this hellish situation down on himself, he decided harshly. Two years ago he had still been immature and impatient and reckless. He had taken what he’d wanted without hesitation and without thought of the risk he could be running...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘THEY LOOK CUTE as buttons,’ Lizzie said fondly, studying the twins garbed in their smartest outfits. ‘Jaul will fall in love with them at first sight.’

  Chrissie wrinkled her nose. ‘I hope not because he’s not likely to see much of them when we live in different countries. I also hope he’s not always going to be asking me to put them on planes to go and see him.’

  Her sister breathed in deep. ‘Chrissie...I know it will be difficult but you should want him to be interested in his son and daughter, no matter how awkward it is for you. A father in their lives would be a plus, not a minus.’

  Duly admonished for her honesty, Chrissie flushed and climbed into the limousine that Jaul had insisted on sending to collect them. She was thoroughly disconcerted to see that he had actually sent his bodyguards as well. She knew Lizzie had spoken sensible words but the prospect of sharing the twins with Jaul daunted her. He was the man she had once loved beyond bearing and the idea of her children being looked after by his next wife in Marwan chilled her. But that was the way the world was now with families and step-families and ideally everyone being relaxed about once bitter relationships that were in the past, she reminded herself irritably. Other people coped and she would have to learn to cope as well. Even so, she couldn’t help thinking that it would have been easier altogether if Jaul had never come to London and had never had to be told that he was a father.

  The front doors stood wide open on the massive house for their arrival. As she clutched first Tarif below one arm and then struggled to hoist Soraya, a woman in a nanny uniform came running out and offered to help.

  ‘I’m Jane,’ she announced. ‘Your husband sent me out to assist.’

  Chrissie was unimpressed that Jaul was too proud and exalted to come and help her with his own hands but she allowed the woman to lift Soraya. They walked into the hall and on into the ugly drawing room where the nanny deposited Soraya on a new fluffy rug covered with brand-new toys and asked if there was anything Chrissie needed for the twins.

  ‘No, thanks. I have everything I need with me.’ Chrissie settled her sizeable baby bag down on one of the wooden sofas and wondered where the heck Jaul was.


  But when she looked up from settling Tarif down on the rug Jaul was in the doorway, garbed in black designer jeans and a dark red T-shirt and looking very much like some elite male supermodel from his stunning cheekbones all the way down to his sleek, beautifully built body. The thought shook her and her cheeks went pink, heat trickling through private places, reminding her of intimacies that were no longer part of her life.

  ‘I’m sorry. I was taking a call.’ Jaul moved to the edge of the rug and just halted there to stare at the twins with blatant curiosity. ‘I don’t know anything about babies, which is why I brought the nanny in to prepare for their visit.’

  ‘You must’ve met some babies?’

  ‘No. There are none in the family...well, there is no family, only me,’ he reminded her, for he had no siblings and neither had his father and so there were no other family branches to join with his.

  ‘Tarif and Soraya are your family now,’ Chrissie heard herself point out and then wondered why she had said that, but there was something strangely touching about his confession of complete ignorance. ‘Just get down on your knees and they’ll come to you.’

  ‘They can walk?’ Jaul was entranced when Tarif made a beeline for him and crawled up onto his lap with a fearless expectation of being welcomed there.

  ‘No, they’re only crawling.’ Soraya saw her brother receiving attention and headed in the same direction. ‘They’re starting to occasionally pull themselves upright...Tarif more than Soraya.’

  Jaul smoothed Tarif’s black hair back from his brow. His hand wasn’t quite steady. His children! He still could not credit the evidence of his eyes. ‘For that night they were conceived...I thank you,’ he breathed huskily.

  Chrissie glanced across at him and her face flamed as though he had lit a fire inside her. They had run out of condoms and Jaul had wanted to send one of his staff out to buy more and she had been furiously embarrassed by the idea, angry that he would not go on such an errand for himself. So, they had taken the risk and the twins were the result. His expression of gratitude now, however, shook her by its very unexpectedness.