The Sheikh Who Claimed Her. Barbara McMahon

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      SHE was alone with Ra’id. Even the servants had vanished. Now there was just echoing silence and the most powerful man in the Gulf—a man whose unwavering gaze was now fixed on her. This was no susceptible lover who would be thrilled to hear about a baby, but a hard man of the desert—a warrior who would stop at nothing to protect his people, a man without the luxury of a heart. She would have to be honest with him. She would explain first about the charity, and when the business part of the meeting was over she would tell him her most important news. She had to draw on her courage and remember the meeting earlier that day. The men who reported to the sheikh had all been broadly in agreement with her plan—subject, of course, to their sheikh’s approval.

      But had she made herself clear enough to Ra’id? Antonia wondered when he continued to stare at her as if she had unwittingly committed some terrible sin. Opening her hands in appeal, she pressed on. ‘It goes without saying that the charity will stand all the expense incurred in building this facility, and we’ll be happy to pay the going rate for the land.’

      ‘The going rate?’

      His reaction terrified her. Springing to his feet, Ra’id cast a long shadow over the table as he leaned his balled up fists upon it. It was almost a relief when he straightened up and turned his back on her to walk some paces away.

      But what had she done? She could not remember feeling quite so threatened, and any thought she might have had of talking about their child had vanished. In fact, glancing at the door, she realised her primary concern now was to protect her child from this man she didn’t feel as if she knew at all.

      ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

      She shrank back as Ra’id spun on his heels to confront her when she started collecting up her things. ‘I can see it’s not convenient for you to see me right now.’

      ‘When will there be a better time?’ he said, cutting her off at the door.

      ‘Ra’id, please …’ Tears were threatening, and she hated herself for the weakness, knowing this was a man who would not care to see her cry.

      ‘Ra’id, please,’ he mimicked cruelly. ‘What is it this time, Tuesday? Are you here for a pay-off—or would you like a little more action first?’

      ‘Ra’id, don’t,’ she begged, turning her face from his stinging scorn. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Please, let me go.’

      ‘Not until we’ve discussed this land that seems to mean so much to you.’ His voice was harsh and cruel, and his touch was unrelenting as he steered her back to the table. ‘Sit down,’ he said, indicating the seat next to his. ‘You’ve seen this, of course?’

      As she shakily sank onto the chair, he pushed a sheaf of documents in front of her. ‘No. What are they?’

      ‘I have copies,’ he said, when she didn’t even know what he was talking about.

      She glanced at the title on the topmost sheet. ‘I don’t understand—this is a deed of land granted by your father to my mother.’

      ‘Well done,’ he said derisively. ‘One of your best performances to date. You almost have me fooled.’

      Antonia shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I’m trying to make sense of this. I’m sorry if I’m not as quick as you …’

      ‘Take your time.’ His voice was full of disdain.

      ‘You knew my mother?’ Antonia glanced up in confusion, and then her gaze returned to her mother’s name as if just reading it could somehow protect her.

      ‘It would be hard for me not to know my father’s concubine.’

      ‘What?’ The room began to spin. She had heard Ra’id, and yet her mind refused to accept what he’d said to her. Pushing her chair back, she stumbled awkwardly away from the table. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she admitted in a voice turned dry and faint.

      ‘You don’t?’ Ra’id’s hard face mirrored his disbelief. ‘Let me stop your performance before you get started. And understand this, Antonia—I have no interest in learning how dear your mother was to you, or how much you meant to each other—let alone how passionately she wanted you to have this land in Sinnebar.’

      ‘Land?’ Antonia demanded with amazement. ‘What land?’

      ‘Oh, please,’ Ra’id said, shaking his head. ‘Can’t you do better than that? You will never rise from the ranks of the chorus to become a full-blown leading lady if you can’t put on a better act.’

      ‘This is no act,’ she protested, feeling as if a vice were closing around her chest. ‘I had no idea my mother even knew your father, let alone that she was his mistress.’

      ‘That’s a polite name for it.’

      ‘Stop, Ra’id—please, stop it!’ Holding out her hand as if to fend him off, she willed him to stop heaping insults on top of the confusion inside her. Then it occurred to her that as her heart had just been ripped in two he couldn’t do any more harm.

      She returned quietly to the table where she sat down and scrutinised the documents. She had inherited land in Sinnebar and a property from her mother. She couldn’t have been more surprised. The news that Helena had been the late sheikh’s mistress on top of this …

      But Ra’id gave her no chance to recover. ‘Do you still pretend you know nothing of this?’

      ‘Nothing—I swear.’ It was hard to take in the facts. Not only had her young mother been the late sheikh’s mistress, but Helena had been paid off when the sheikh had tired of her with this gift of land. It was clear the late sheikh had thought nothing of this valuable gift of territory within Sinnebar, while Ra’id viewed it quite differently. Ra’id was the highly principled conservator of a kingdom and guardian of his people, and no greater sin could have been committed as far as he was concerned. She could understand his resentment. She had inherited a parcel of his people’s land. It was a gift that had been passed from Helena to Antonia, who was not the daughter of the late sheikh but Antonio Ruggiero, the man who had rescued her mother from this life of …

      She had no idea what her mother’s life had been like, Antonia realised with a sharp pang of regret. Raising her gaze to meet Ra’id’s hard, uncompromising stare, she knew she’d get no pity from him. But he still dazzled her, unreachable as he was. He was like a dark force framed in light, and one she must soften if her proposal for the charity was to succeed.

      ‘I will use the land for the good of your people,’ she said, feeling her strength and her courage return as a plan began to take shape in her mind.

      ‘You can only do that with my permission.’

      ‘But you will—’ She had sprung up too quickly, and now she was paying the price. ‘You must,’ she said weakly, clutching the table for support.

      ‘Are you ill?’ Ra’id demanded, observing her keenly.

      ‘No, I’m not ill,’ she managed, instantly protective of her baby. Ra’id’s child was a royal baby and could be stolen away from her by the stroke of his pen. She had to be cautious now.

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