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Last Chance For Baby
Julianna Morris
To: Maggie, Sharon, Jen, Lauren From: Julia Date: 1/02RE: Due Date: 2 monthsHelp! I need advice on how to un-seduce a sheik. Apparently my brief affair with Sheik Raoul Oman left a lasting impression on him. And now that he's working in our office, he seems more determined than ever to continue what we started. I've tried to discourage him from pursuing me–despite my heart telling me not to–but nothing has scared off the charming sheik. Wonder what'll happen when he finds out that I'm pregnant…?


“I know you’re pregnant, Julia. Who is the father?” Kane asked.
Through the doorway, Raoul stared at Julia. Her cheeks had turned white, every trace of color erased. She’d begun to stand, but now slid into her chair as if she didn’t have the strength to remain upright.
“W-what?” she whispered.
“You’re pregnant. It all adds up. The nausea, the weight gain, the crackers.” Kane ticked each detail off on his fingers.
“What are you talking about?” Raoul demanded.
Startled, Kane whipped around. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Obviously.”
“Who’s the father?” Kane asked with quiet insistence. “How far along are you?”
“Almost seven months. The baby is underweight,” she said, her voice wobbly.
After a long look at Julia’s guilt-filled face, Raoul turned to Kane. “If Julia is seven months pregnant, then she is carrying my child.”
Dear Reader,
What are your New Year’s resolutions? I hope one is to relax and escape life’s everyday stresses with our fantasy-filled books! Each month, Silhouette Romance presents six soul-stirring stories about falling in love. So even if you haven’t gotten around to your other resolutions (hey, spring cleaning is still months away!), curling up with these dreamy stories should be one that’s a pure pleasure to keep.
Could you imagine seducing the boss? Well, that’s what the heroine of Julianna Morris’s Last Chance for Baby, the fourth in the madly popular miniseries HAVING THE BOSS’S BABY did. And that’s what starts the fun in Susan Meier’s The Boss’s Urgent Proposal—part of our AN OLDER MAN thematic series—when the boss…finally…shows up on his secretary’s doorstep.
Looking for a modern-day fairy tale? Then you’ll adore Lilian Darcy’s Finding Her Prince, the third in her CINDERELLA CONSPIRACY series about three sisters finding true love by the stroke of midnight! And delight in DeAnna Talcott’s I-need-a-miracle tale, The Nanny & Her Scrooge.
With over one hundred books in print, Marie Ferrarella is still whipping up fun, steamy romances, this time with three adorable bambinos on board in A Triple Threat to Bachelorhood. Meanwhile, a single mom’s secret baby could lead to Texas-size trouble in Linda Goodnight’s For Her Child…, a fireworks-filled cowboy romance!
So, a thought just occurred: Is it cheating if one of your New Year’s resolutions is pure fun? Hmm…I don’t think so. So kick back, relax and enjoy. You deserve it!
Happy reading!


Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor

Last Chance for Baby
Julianna Morris

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my mother—a special lady whose creative talent,
humor and intelligence I will always admire. I love you.
Books by Julianna Morris
Silhouette Romance
Baby Talk #1097
Family of Three #1178
Daddy Woke Up Married #1252
Dr. Dad #1278
The Marriage Stampede #1375
* (#litres_trial_promo)Callie, Get Your Groom #1436
* (#litres_trial_promo)Hannah Gets a Husband #1448
* (#litres_trial_promo)Jodie’s Mail-Order Man #1460
Meeting Megan Again #1502
Tick Tock Goes the Baby Clock #1531
Last Chance for Baby #1565
JULIANNA MORRIS
has an offbeat sense of humor, which frequently gets her into trouble. She is often accused of being curious about everything…her interests ranging from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, walking on the beach and reading science fiction.
Julianna loves cats of all shapes and sizes, and last year she was adopted by a feline companion named Merlin. Like his namesake, Merlin is an alchemist—she says he can transform the house into a disaster area in nothing flat. And since he shares the premises with a writer, it’s interesting to note that he’s particularly fond of knocking books on the floor.
Julianna happily reports meeting Mr. Right. Together they are working on a new dream of building a shoreline home in the Great Lakes area.
KANE HALEY
Note to self: Who’s having my baby?
Trudy—hopeless romantic, office gossip, can’t keep a secret. If it’s not her, she might know who it is!
Lauren Connor—dates a lot, trying out new looks to impress her boss, was out sick with stomach flu. Hmm…
Sharon Davies—recently trapped in an elevator with a major client, blushes whenever he’s around, looking a little green lately. Could she be carrying my baby?
Leila—makes eyes at me. Is it more than a crush?
Maggie Steward—my personal assistant, wants children, clock is ticking. She would never go to a sperm bank!
Julia Parker—worries that her endometriosis could make her infertile. No man in her life. Definite sperm bank material!
Jennifer Martin—eight months pregnant. Is it her late fiancé’s baby? Is it mine?
WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT…
A PREGNANT PROPOSAL
THE MAKEOVER TAKEOVER
LAST CHANCE FOR BABY
SHE’S HAVING MY BABY!
KANE HALEY, INC.
CHICAGO, IL

Contents
Prologue (#u5d42610c-c5a9-5b74-93b0-d433d3d5cd78)
Chapter One (#ub6d19947-1d47-5938-9ddd-b0cf2c9fa750)
Chapter Two (#u1ec351df-2e2f-56f7-b747-779a5a094d28)
Chapter Three (#u68165c7c-2aec-5d6c-a786-db2acaa8dce2)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
Sperm bank?
Oh, God.
Kane Haley rubbed his two forefingers against his aching temples and wondered for the ten-thousandth time which woman in the company was carrying his child.
He’d never expected this complication. The only reason he’d “deposited” sperm in the first place was to help out a friend, and now it was a disaster. Kane had already expended a fair amount of anger toward the Lakeside Reproductive Clinic for their mistake, but a flicker of irritation rose again at the memory.
We’re sorry, Mr. Haley, but we must protect the woman’s privacy.
Privacy.
What about his privacy? His rights? They’d made him a father with their high-tech medical procedure, and he didn’t even know who the mother might be. He had a lawyer working on the issue, but in the meantime, it was driving him crazy, wondering.
Sitting back, Kane thought about the various women working for Kane Haley, Inc…women of childbearing age.
Okay, he knew it wasn’t Sharon Waterton, one of the company’s accounting assistants. At least, it seemed unlikely considering the way she and his client, Jack Waterton, had hooked up. Other names flitted through his head, such as Jennifer Holder, but the timing of her pregnancy was wrong.
And it was still a toss up whether Lauren Mitchell was even pregnant. A reluctant grin creased Kane’s mouth as he thought of the chase she’d led Rafe Mitchell on. His Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions had found it was a lot more trouble acquiring a wife than anything he’d worked on for Kane Haley, Inc.
So, if it wasn’t Sharon or Jennifer or Lauren, who was the mother of his baby?
Groaning, Kane opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a bottle of aspirin. He swallowed two and headed for the door of his office. He’d never realized there were so many pregnant women in the world.
And how many of them worked for his company.

Chapter One
Outside Kane’s office…
“Are you available this afternoon?”
“For what?” Twenty-seven-year-old Julia Parker smiled at Maggie Steward, administrative assistant to the company’s president.
“The new Chief Financial Officer is arriving today. His name is Raoul Oman. You met him at that D.C. conference last June, remember? Kane will be tied up in a meeting and he asked if you would show Mr. Oman around.”
Raoul Oman.
Julia stared, the blood draining from her face.
Oh, yes, she’d met Sheik Raoul Oman. The man was permanently engraved in her memory. Instinctively, her hand went to her stomach. The morning sickness she’d suffered from for her entire pregnancy threatened to go out of control, and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm her queasy tummy and racing heart.
Maggie’s eyes were compassionate. “I guess you do remember him.”
“Y-yes.” Julia swallowed and shook her head to clear it. She’d never expected to see Raoul again, and the shock was a bit more than she could absorb—not to mention the embarrassment and a healthy dose of guilt.
“You aren’t having trouble with the…uh…?” Maggie’s gaze flicked to Julia’s rounded stomach, then back to her face. The question didn’t need to be finished. The baby was seriously underweight, and so far she’d been able to camouflage her tummy with heavy sweaters, despite being almost seven months along. Most of her co-workers didn’t even realize she was pregnant, or else they’d just been polite and not said anything.
“I’m fine,” Julia assured quickly.
It was a lie, but she could hardly explain. She gulped again when she saw Kane Haley staring at her from the door of his office. He’d been acting strangely for the past few months, though as president of his Chicago-based company he could act any way he darned well pleased.
“Uh…I’ll be happy to show Mr. Oman around,” she told Maggie, snatching her hand away from her stomach. She fled to her own office on the 16th floor and sat for several shattered minutes, trying to decide what to do.
Her family plans were getting ready to fly apart, and there was nothing she could do to fix them.
The phone on Julia’s desk buzzed, and she gratefully pushed her lunch aside—milk and a package of crackers—and picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“This is Trudy, in reception. I was told to notify you when Mr. Oman arrived.”
Swell.
“Thank you. I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll tell him, Ms. Parker.” Trudy sounded star-struck, which wasn’t surprising. One look at Sheik Raoul Oman and she must have melted in her chair. The man had sex appeal that could bring the dead back to life.
Julia glanced in a mirror and smoothed her fingers over a stray lock of hair. She didn’t care if she looked attractive, just neat and professional. Then, squaring her shoulders, she went to the elevator and punched the Down button. A minute later she stepped out and saw the back of Raoul’s dark head.
Flutters hit her midsection even harder, and she gulped down another wave of nausea.
“Sheik Oman,” she said, congratulating herself on the cool, even tone of her voice. “Welcome to Kane Haley, Inc.”
Raoul turned with catlike grace, one eyebrow lifting. “As you know, Ms. Parker, I do not use my title in America.”
She knew. She also knew that nothing could make Raoul anything other than what he was—a member of the royal family in his own country of Hasan…and the father of her baby.
It was the father-of-her-baby part driving hordes of butterflies through her system. Or was it the memory of the way he’d made her feel? She hadn’t wanted to lose control during their brief, explosive affair, but he hadn’t allowed anything but her complete surrender in the bedroom.
Julia’s mouth tightened.
The pleasure had been extraordinary, but you couldn’t live on pleasure. If anything, he’d proved that a man, particularly from his exalted family background, had trouble letting a woman be equal. Even in the most private of circumstances.
“Mr. Haley is tied up in a meeting this afternoon. He asked me to show you around,” she said.
Raoul inclined his head and smiled. “Kane has already explained this matter. I requested that you might take his place.”
“Oh.”
Any hope that he’d forgotten some of the more intimate aspects of their relationship vanished at the dark heat in his eyes. He remembered everything. And he seemed to be reminding her that she was the one who’d chosen to say goodbye. That it was her decision not to prolong the time and passion they’d shared.
But didn’t men prefer temporary relationships?
Even men from other countries?
She wasn’t the most experienced woman in the world, but from what she’d seen, commitment was the last thing the male animal usually thought about.
“Kane was not aware that we were…acquainted,” Raoul murmured. “I thought you might have mentioned me.”
From behind his back Julia saw Trudy mouth the words ohmigod, you know him? The receptionist looked more excited and dreamy than ever. But then, Trudy was the queen of high drama and romance. She lived for office gossip, though in a kind way. She never repeated anything cruel.
“Kane is the president of the company. We talk about business-related matters,” Julia explained, more uncomfortable than ever. “Not about people I’ve met…at a business conference.”
“Ah.” The subtle humor lingering in the depths of his brown eyes made her wince, but there wasn’t anything she could say in protest. Raoul could communicate more with his eyes than most people did verbally, and right now he was laughing at her attempts to pretend nothing had happened between them.
“Well,” she said briskly. “Shall we start?”
“That would be excellent.”
She turned on her heel and launched into a description of the three floors of the building leased by the company. She knew Raoul well enough to know he wouldn’t need any description of Kane Haley, Inc. He was the sort of man who would have investigated the accounting company from top to bottom before he ever considered taking the position as its Chief Financial Officer.
It almost made her smile. Kane Haley had probably felt as if he was being interviewed for the job, rather than the other way around. Of course, the whole thing would have just amused Kane, and it certainly hadn’t blinded him to Raoul’s exceptional qualifications for the position.
Darn it.
When they were finished touring the fourteenth floor, they stopped in front of the elevators. Raoul had suggested they simply take the stairs, but Julia couldn’t reveal that her doctor had recommended no climbing until after the baby was born, so she’d said they were mostly for emergencies.
Normally she didn’t babble, but the continuing amused glint in Raoul’s expression and the memory of their past relationship was turning her logical brain into mush.
They stepped inside the empty elevator car, and no sooner had the doors closed than Raoul pressed the Hold button.
“Bien-aimée,” he said softly. “It has been a long while.”
Julia’s heart skipped a few beats. “Not so long. Just two or three months,” she tossed off, as if she didn’t have a clear idea how much time had passed. Fat chance. She had a biological reminder growing in her womb, telling her exactly how long it had been since they’d last seen one another.
“Over six months,” he corrected. “June was a beautiful time in your nation’s capital.”
She kept her gaze glued to the Hold button he was depressing. “We’d better get going, or someone will think the elevator is broken.”
“They will simply think the machine is slow.”
“Raoul—”
“Julia,” he mocked, using her same exasperated tone. “It is good to hear that you remember my first name.”
Unaccustomed heat bloomed in her face. “I remember.”
“As do I.” He lifted his free hand and stroked the curve of her cheek. “I remember many things.”
“Please, Raoul. It was nice, but it was just one of those temporary things.” Guilt nearly made Julia choke on the words, because, while she had intended things to be temporary between them, she’d deliberately done everything possible to ensure he’d give her a child.
It was my last chance to be a mother.
Julia bit on the inside of her mouth, knowing she deserved that small stab of pain. Raoul hadn’t been her last chance for motherhood, but the longer she’d waited, the smaller her chances would have gotten. Endometriosis didn’t always result in infertility, but it was a common result of the condition. She’d gone to the conference still in shock after hearing the bad medical news, and when she’d met Raoul it had seemed like the answer.
“I did not choose for it to be so very temporary. You are the one who made this decision.”
Raoul didn’t look amused now, but angry, and she could well imagine him as an imperious desert ruler of old. She should have known it would irritate him, not getting to be the one who broke things off. Men liked to be in control, which was why she didn’t want her child’s father involved in their lives.
She’d had enough experience with overbearing, dominating men who thought they ruled the universe just because fate had given them a particular set of chromosomes. Her military father was a case in point. Sure, not all men were like that, but she hadn’t had any luck telling who was a control freak and who wasn’t.
“We really have to be going,” she said. She tried pulling his hand from the button, but he held fast. “Raoul, let go.”
“We must talk.” Raoul watched the changing expressions in Julia’s face and wondered why she had been so adamant about ending their affair at the conclusion of the conference. Even now she fascinated him, stirring his body in a way that made it imperative that he wait before leaving the privacy of the elevator car. It would not be prudent to allow anyone at Kane Haley, Inc., to see his undisguised response to another employee.
“We have nothing to talk about,” Julia snapped.
A flicker of admiration crept through Raoul. At any time Julia was glorious, but angry? Gold flashed from her hair and eyes, color brightened her silken skin and she breathed deeply, emphasizing the womanly part of her that he’d already enjoyed so much. He drew a harsh breath of his own, exerting control over his unruly body.
“Nothing?” he asked. “Perhaps you would like to explain why you gave me an incorrect phone number.”
Julia’s eyelids dropped, concealing the hazel gold of her eyes. “Did I?”
“You know you did. Although the lady at the dry-cleaning establishment was quite cordial, I did not wish to speak with her, I wished to speak with you.”
“You could have called the company and gotten the number.”
“Since it was obvious you did not wish to speak with me, I respected your wishes. Now I question if that was the correct decision. You are being very evasive, Julia.”
“I told you—”
“Yes,” Raoul interrupted impatiently. “You told me many things. Some I have chosen to ignore.”
“That’s arrogant.”
“Isn’t that what you expect? The sheik who is as arrogant as his royal Arabian heritage?”
“It’s not your royal anything making you arrogant,” Julia returned. “It’s…” She stopped, clearly feeling she’d already said too much.
“Ah, yes. You do not think well of my sex, I think.”
“It isn’t necessarily your sex I was thinking about. In some ways that part is impressive.” Her gaze flicked downward for a brief moment, and he grew hard again.
She was impudent.
And sweetly naughty.
In the old days of his country a woman such as Julia would have been a disgrace, but no longer. As a youth his grandfather had embraced new ways of thinking about women, and for two generations they had been free to speak their minds in Hasan.
Sometimes that wasn’t always a blessing.
“I still do not understand why you wished such a temporary arrangement,” he said. “It doesn’t seem to be your nature.”
“Of course it is.”
Despite the denial, her gaze shifted once again, this time in evasion, and Raoul sighed.
“You are not promiscuous, chère.”
Julia glared. “Stop calling me…French things.”
He suppressed a smile, demanding control of his mouth. French endearments came naturally to him. Though his grandmother had spent far more years in Hasan than in her homeland, she remained exquisitely French, from the tips of her toes to the top of her perfectly coiffed head. He had spoken her native language from the time he was in his cradle and was named for Grand-mère’s own father.
“Julia, the fact remains that you are not the type for such casual encounters.”
“That’s ridiculous. You know nothing about me and don’t have a clue about my romantic life.”
He smiled knowingly. “A man knows when a woman has not been intimate for a while. There is a certain hesitation in her body when he—”
“Never mind,” Julia said hastily, certain her face was burning from embarrassment. Raoul was too knowledgeable for comfort, and if he was convinced she’d been celibate for a long time he would never believe the baby wasn’t his. The question was, what would he do once he figured it out?
Maybe she should tell him first.
Or maybe she should quit her job and leave town.
Oh, right. That’s a great solution.
She enjoyed the stability of her position at Kane Haley, Inc., and she was darned good at it. The Assurance and Advisory Service Division where she worked was growing by leaps and bounds. She had an excellent salary, and a number of friends here in Chicago. Leaving was not an option, particularly with a baby on the way.
All at once the demanding arrogance vanished from Raoul’s face, and he removed his hand from the control panel. “You are right. People will wonder if we overly delay the elevator.”
His expression had closed to the point she would never have guessed they were discussing anything more intimate than the corner deli, and she shook her head. How could a woman hope to understand a man like Raoul Oman?
Quickly, before he could change his mind, Julia pressed the button for the fifteenth floor and waited as the car swooshed upward. Normally she did take the stairs, preferring to be more active. But the baby was more important than anything else, and she was following everything the doctor said to the letter. And it should still be all right, as long as she did her best to stay quiet and eat as much as her stomach could tolerate.
The tour of the fifteenth floor went reasonably well, and they moved to the sixteenth without Raoul broaching more personal conversation.
As they passed the door of her own office, Julia’s feet faltered when she saw the president of the company inside, staring at her desk with a kind of fierce concentration.
“Kane, is something wrong?” she asked.
“My meeting is finished,” he said. “How was the tour, Raoul?”
“Ms. Parker has been most informative.”
“Hmm. That’s good. Fine.”
Raoul lifted his eyebrows. He’d never seen Kane Haley so distracted. They’d met a number of years before, and both men had formed an immediate liking for the other. When the position of CFO had come available, Kane had immediately contacted him to see if he was interested.
He had been.
Raoul cast a glance at the slender blond-haired woman standing at his side. In no small way, Julia was responsible for his decision. She fascinated, annoyed and frustrated him beyond measure. While a part of him appreciated her reluctance for a more permanent arrangement, he couldn’t help being intrigued.
Truly, he did not understand. Weren’t all women anxious for those permanent bonds?
Certainly, the parade of marriageable women his mother had vexed him with had wanted everything that an alliance with the royal house would bring—wealth, power, position, the title of princess in a country whose princesses were revered and protected. The paparazzi would find no welcome in Hasan; the people would see to it.
Julia cleared her throat, apparently uncomfortable in the silence. “Kane, I’m sure you have things you wanted to discuss with Mr. Oman. In the meantime I’ll get back to work.”
Kane gave her a peculiar look. “How have you been feeling, Julia?” he asked, ignoring her suggestion.
“Just fine,” she assured, though she seemed confused by the inquiry.
“Somebody mentioned you’d been sick several times—in the restroom.”
She jumped, and Raoul saw her hand hover over her stomach for an instant. “M-maybe once or twice. My system is a little sensitive after the Christmas holidays. You know, all that rich food. But I’m fine. I’ve even put on a few pounds.”
This seemed to interest Kane almost as much as her supposed illness. “Yes, I guess you have.”
Raoul frowned, wondering what nonsense his friend was pursuing. It was a matter for concern if a valued employee was suffering from ill-health, but anyone could see that Julia was fine. As for those “few pounds” she’d claimed, he’d noticed her figure was fuller and more enticing than ever, though it was well concealed by a heavy cashmere sweater.
Why western women were so concerned about weight was a mystery. Julia would be no less lovely if she gained a hundred pounds. Perhaps, though, the problem didn’t lie with western women, but with western men who could not appreciate the beauty of a ripe, voluptuous body.
America was a confusing place. He’d spent many of his thirty-six years in the country, off and on, and still didn’t always understand its ways.
He turned to Julia. “I will see you for dinner tonight. I appreciate your offer to acquaint me with some of the Chicago food you have raved about.”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. Things were going from bad to worse, but if Raoul thought he could manipulate her into having dinner with him, he was sadly mistaken. It would be awkward extricating herself in front of the company president, but she couldn’t go out with Raoul. He was too compelling…too interested in the reason she’d left that Washington conference without a backward glance.
“That’s a great idea,” Kane Haley said before she could say anything. “But you’ll both be my guests.”
Huh?
Julia could tell that Raoul shared her confusion and they exchanged glances. She couldn’t think of a single reason Kane would invite himself along, unless he was only thinking about visiting with an old friend.
“You know, I forgot I have an earlier commitment,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves more without me.”
“No.” The two men uttered the protest in unison.
“You must dine with me tonight,” Raoul insisted. “We have much news to share.”
News?
No way was Julia going there.
The only “news” she had to share was something she didn’t want him knowing in the first place. He was a proud man, and discovering she’d used him as a sperm donor wouldn’t go over in a big way. It wouldn’t matter that she’d felt desperate and had convinced herself he’d make her a beautiful baby; he’d be outraged.
With good reason, she acknowledged silently.
A familiar sense of guilt crowded Julia’s throat, and she shifted uneasily.
“Really, I have other plans,” she said. “Another time.”
“Please cancel,” Kane growled. Despite the “please” it sounded more like a command, and his face had the odd expression he’d gotten before, when he’d watched her talking to Maggie Steward. “I think we should properly welcome our new CFO to Chicago, don’t you?”
“I—”
“I’d consider it a favor,” he added.
A favor. Requested from the president. Sort of like a royal invitation you couldn’t refuse.
“All right,” Julia agreed reluctantly. “But there’s something I’d better go check…with Mrs. Steward.” She didn’t have anything to check, but since they were all in her office, it was the only avenue of escape.
“Wait.” Kane picked up something from her desk and handed it to her. “You’re looking a little green, so you’d better take these. Raoul, we’ll meet in your new office in say, fifteen minutes?” He stomped out, looking quite frustrated.
Julia’s fingers closed around the package of crackers she’d been trying to swallow for lunch. What did crackers have to do with anything? And why would the president of the company be so concerned about the condition of her stomach?
“I take it you do not wish our relationship announced to the office,” Raoul said after a moment.
She rolled her eyes, effectively distracted. “We don’t have a relationship.”
With a casual flick of his wrist, Raoul released the door so it swung closed. If it had been any other woman than Julia, he would have allowed the matter to drop. But the memory of her warm sensuality still invaded his sleep, though months had passed since he’d last held her.
He wasn’t ready for marriage—he’d even left Hasan because of the pressure from his mother to start a family—but why shouldn’t they enjoy one another? Particularly when their goal in remaining single seemed to be the same.
“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Julia, but nothing has changed…I still want you.”
All at once the room seemed smaller and closer and Julia dragged needed air into her lungs. There was nothing menacing about the declaration, he was simply stating his desire.
The trouble was, she still wanted him, too.
Her body was practically screaming to touch him, and there wasn’t a single thing she could do to make that need go away.

Chapter Two
“Please…don’t,” Julia said faintly.
“Shouldn’t I be honest?”
It wasn’t Raoul’s honesty she was worried about. It was her own.
Darn it all, she’d told him he didn’t need to worry about getting her pregnant, that it wasn’t a problem! She’d said they could enjoy being together without bothering to use anything. The conference had continued for another three days and her ploy had worked. One month later she’d woken up, sick to her stomach and counting the days since her cycle should have started.
In other words, pregnant with a sheik’s baby.
Her child would have all the advantages of Raoul’s splendid genetics without her having to deal with the father. She’d just conveniently forgotten that the world really was a small place and that he could end up knowing about it after all.
“Perhaps Kane is correct, you do not look well,” Raoul murmured, concerned at the pallor in her face. “Sit down, Julia.”
“I don’t need a mother hen,” she said, sending him a scathing look. But she did as he’d requested, sinking into her chair with a sigh. “You’re the last person I expected to see today.”
“Kane made his selection for the position very quickly. It seemed best for the company.”
Julia drummed her fingers on the surface of the desk. “How could you move to Chicago on such short notice? Don’t you have family commitments?”
Raoul’s lips tightened.
According to his family, his first concern should be to marry and produce children. His father was not so intolerable on the subject as his mother, but neither were pleased at his delay. They had fallen in love and married young themselves, and couldn’t understand why he resisted their happy fate.
“My absence is not important. I have three brothers who help my father and grandfather in governing Hasan,” he said.
“Oh.” Julia seemed to be thinking his comment over with more concentration than it deserved. “What about sisters—do you have any?”
A smile eased the tension in Raoul’s face. “Two. They are treasures to us all.”
“But not in helping to govern the country, right? I suppose they have to wear robes and masks over their faces and not say anything except when spoken to?”
Perplexity creased the space between his eyes. He and Julia hadn’t spoken of their personal lives when they’d met before, so in the ways that mattered most they did not know each other.
“There are many incorrect ideas about my country. Women in Hasan do not wear the chador,” he explained. “They are as free as their western counterparts. Perhaps more free, because our men do not have the same limited views of feminine beauty.”
Julia didn’t look convinced. “Your sisters—”
“Have no interest in ruling Hasan,” he said, having had this discussion with more than one American woman. “Jasmine is an artist who wishes to be left alone to work—she will not even act as our cultural minister. And Fatima is a doctor. She occupies a position similar to your surgeon general, but spends most of her time treating patients.”
“I see.”
Raoul glanced at his watch. He would prefer staying to talk with Julia, but he was expected in that meeting. “I’ll see you later,” he said. “Perhaps Kane will change his mind about going to dinner with us and we can be alone.”
Color flooded back into Julia’s face with extraordinary speed and her eyes flashed in annoyance. “Oh, yes,” she mocked. “My ‘invitation’ to help you sample Chicago’s cuisine.”
“You raved about your pizza and Italian beef sandwiches when we met in Washington. You said—”
“I don’t care what I said,” she snapped.
He chuckled. She had such fire, he adored that part of her. “You would not have agreed if I had simply asked.”
“So true.”
“So I ensured you couldn’t refuse.”
Her eyes grew frosty, even remote, and Raoul looked at her in puzzlement. “I’ve already had enough men thinking they know what’s best for everyone else,” Julia said evenly, but she was plainly furious. “I won’t let anybody control me.”
Obviously he wasn’t accomplishing anything by staying, so Raoul gave her a courteous bow and opened the door again. “It may have seemed that I was trying to do that, but I wasn’t. We will speak later, when you are feeling…better.”
Something hit the door as he closed it behind him, and he wondered what Julia had thrown. Nothing too dangerous, he decided with a small smile.
He liked this Julia even better than the temptress he had known in Washington. She was just as seductive, but there were depths he’d only glimpsed during their tempestuous few days together.
Depths he wanted to explore.
We will speak later, when you are feeling…better.
Better.
Julia practically snorted. He’d meant logical. Or sensible. Or some other male notion about the return of reason to an irrational woman. She willed herself to calm down, certain so much emotion couldn’t be good for either her or the baby. And the worst part was knowing she’d brought the whole thing on herself.
Sitting back in her chair, she put a hand over her abdomen and practiced her deep breathing.
Her life had changed so much since she’d had that June appointment with the gynecologist. She’d felt herself going cold while hearing the results of the tests, but the doctor just kept talking. Just kept explaining. Saying that endometriosis usually got worse, that a pregnancy might relieve the symptoms, or even eliminate them. But, as time passed her chance of conceiving a baby would grow less and less…that it was probably a condition she’d had since first starting her periods.
Julia shuddered, thinking about her childhood.
She’d been so frightened of her father, a loud, over-bearing army officer who controlled his household with the same iron fist he used to control the men under his command. She’d tried to tell him how much her menstrual periods hurt, but he’d told her to stop whining. Pain was an illusion.
“Some illusion,” she muttered.
The worst part was that she’d finally accepted his iron-man philosophy, deciding she just had a low threshold for pelvic pain and shouldn’t complain. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything to know the truth earlier, but she would have been prepared.
The phone rang, making her jump, and she reached for the receiver, happy to think about anything but the mess she’d made for herself.
“Yes?”
“How did it go?” Maggie Steward’s soft, concerned tones were a balm to Julia.
“Lousy,” she admitted. “God, I’ve done something really stupid. And insensitive and insane.”
“This afternoon?”
“No. Over six months ago.”
“So Sheik Oman is the…” Her friend’s voice trailed and she sighed. “Okay. Let’s have dinner tonight and we’ll talk about it.”
“I can’t.” Julia stabbed a pen at her daily planner. “Raoul announced that I’d invited him to dinner, right in front of Kane. Before I could tell him to take a hike, Kane jumped in and said he’d take us both.”
“Really?”
“Really. What’s wrong with that boss of yours lately? He’s been really strange. You should have heard his inquisition about me being sick in the restroom.”
“He’s your boss, too.” Maggie’s tone was prim, the way she sometimes got when she was protecting Kane. She never let her hair down, so to speak, when it came to the president of the company.
“He’s not my boss, he’s my boss’s boss,” Julia said fliply.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?”
“I guess not.”
Despite the stress of the past two hours, a smile crept across Julia’s face. Maggie was only a few years older than herself, but she certainly knew how to put an impertinent employee in her place. At least she knew how to put an employee named Julia Parker in her place.
“Look, Maggie, I have to work this out on my own. But thanks for the support.”
“Are you going to be all right?”
“You bet.” Julia dropped the receiver back in its cradle, shaking her head at the outrageous falsehood.
Her image of a sheik from the Middle East had been abysmally vague. She never would have guessed that Raoul Oman was the king’s son, rather than being a distant cousin or something. Now she knew and it complicated an already complicated situation.
Soon she’d have to make up her mind how to tell Raoul that she was pregnant…and that the baby was his.
She could imagine how well that piece of news would go over.
“Is this all right, Julia?”
“Fine,” she muttered, sitting down at the restaurant table. Both Kane and Raoul had been painfully attentive since they’d left the office and she was sick to death of it.
Are you warm enough?
I’m fine. She’d shown Raoul her coat but he’d just frowned.
It’s January and there is snow on the ground. You should wear something heavier.
As she got out of his Jaguar, Kane had rushed around, a fierce expression on his face as he grabbed her arm. Be careful. Don’t slip on the ice, you could hurt yourself.
Between Raoul’s hot glances and the peculiar way Kane was acting, Julia was ready to scream, and they hadn’t even given the waiter their order. She only hoped she could get through the evening without tossing her cookies. When Raoul had suggested they go to an Italian restaurant for some of Chicago’s famous pizza she’d smiled and gulped.
Pizza wasn’t the ideal food for a pregnant woman still coping with all-day morning sickness.
Together Raoul and Kane argued about the merits of the Chicago Bulls and the Dallas Cowboys, an argument she’d ignore at the best of times. After a few minutes they consulted her about the pizza and she shrugged. “Anything you like,” she answered. It really didn’t matter, since nothing connected to a pizza would sit well on her stomach.
“Would you like some wine?” It was Raoul’s question, but for some reason Kane looked particularly interested in her answer.
“No alcohol, right, Julia?” he prompted after a moment. “It wouldn’t be good for you.”
“I…no, just milk,” she said, knowing she needed to get something in her stomach for the sake of the baby.
Kane gave her another odd stare, and she lifted an eyebrow. She’d never had a great deal of contact with Kane Haley, but now he was acting like her den mother or something.
She sighed, more exhausted than at any other time in her life. Being pregnant was harder work than she’d ever thought it would be, but at night, when she was thinking about the coming baby, she knew it was worth everything.
“Have you found a place to live?” she asked Raoul. The waiter had brought milk for her and coffee for the men. It was warm in the restaurant and she’d nearly fallen asleep—quite a feat, considering the tensions swirling around the table.
“I’ve temporarily settled at a hotel.”
Raoul swallowed some of his coffee with an effort. It would have been rude to tell the restaurant that their coffee had the strength of dishwater. His tastes were somewhat different from American preferences.
“You should buy a house out in the Northshore area,” Kane said. “Nice houses out there. If nothing else, it’s a good investment.”
“I have no wish for a family home.”
His friend shrugged. “Sometimes families are thrust upon us, whether we like it or not.”
A soft gasp came from Julia and her hand jerked. She tried to catch her milk from toppling on the table, with only marginal success. Liquid splattered liberally and Kane jumped up to get more napkins from their waiter.
She sputtered an apology, her face nearly as white as the milk. Raoul placed his hand over her damp fingers in an attempt to calm her. “It is all right, chère,” he said quietly. “There is no harm.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That is, I’m just over-reacting.”
“Overreacting to what?”
“To…” Her voice trailed and she shrugged. “Nothing. Kane is right, I haven’t been feeling well. I should go home.”
“I’ll call for a taxi.”
“No.” Julia’s protest fell on blank air, because Raoul had already disappeared. For an instant, the need to assert her independence warred with the desire to escape. Tarnation, she could call her own cab. She was perfectly capable of managing on her own, and she didn’t need someone playing the big strong rescuer.
There wasn’t any time to think about it though, because Kane returned with the waiter, who began cleaning up the mess she’d made.
“Where’s Raoul?” Kane asked.
“Calling a cab,” Raoul answered as he approached the table. “It is outside, waiting. Julia isn’t well and I am escorting her home.”
“Oh.” Kane frowned as he glanced at her. “Stomach again?”
“Something like that.”
“Do you need help?”
The inquiry was directed at his friend, not Julia, and her temper flared. “I don’t need help from either one of you,” she growled. “Believe it or not, I’ve survived quite well on my own since I was seventeen.”
“I could not let you go alone,” Raoul said, sounding appalled. “It isn’t done.”
Julia sucked in a breath. Men. “Maybe not in Hasan, but here in America—”
“I agree with Raoul,” Kane interrupted. “One of us will see you home.”
“That would be my privilege,” Raoul insisted.
Kane looked ready to argue, then shrugged. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It wasn’t all right with Julia, but once again Raoul had placed her in a difficult position. If she insisted on leaving by herself she’d look like a shrew in front of Kane Haley, so she managed to grit her teeth and not say anything at all.
In the lobby, Raoul looked out at the lightly falling snow and pulled a scarf from his pocket. He turned to Julia, prepared for a battle.
“You must put this around your neck—you’re not dressed for such weather.”
Her stubborn chin lifted. “I’m sure the cab is heated.”
“You should not get chilled, particularly when you aren’t feeling well.”
“Raoul…don’t push.”
The tired plea cut straight to his heart, but he shook his head and drew the silk scarf around her neck. It wasn’t thick enough in such weather, but it would help protect her throat. He would have put his own coat around her, but knew he would lose such an effort. Julia was as skittish as one of his colts back home and she could only be pushed so far. At least she had gloves to wear, though he couldn’t see how the stylishly thin leather could provide the necessary warmth.
Kane was dealing with the bill, so Raoul nodded a farewell to his friend and took Julia’s arm.
“It may be slippery,” he murmured when she tried to shake free.
“I’m more accustomed to walking on ice than you are—or do you have an annual snowfall in Hasan?”
He chuckled. “No snow.”
She plainly wasn’t happy, but he held her firmly as they walked to the taxicab. Hasanian women were fiercely independent in their own way, but they willingly accepted the courtesies required by male honor.
“Really, you don’t have to come with me,” Julia insisted as she slid onto the vehicle seat, and he followed.
“I don’t have all night,” said the cab driver. “I go off shift in half an hour. What’s your address, lady?”
Raoul’s eyes narrowed and he looked every bit an imperious sheik, ruler of his world. “You will wait as long as necessary, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” The man ran a finger under his collar and scrunched down farther in the front seat.
Julia sighed. There wasn’t any point in fighting the issue. One way or the other Raoul was coming with her and she might as well get it over with. She gave the driver her address, certain that Raoul would remember both the number and street name. Whatever else he was, he wasn’t stupid, and he was determined to get his answers about their brief affair.
When the taxi pulled into the driveway of her nineteenth-century brick house, set well back from the street, she squared her shoulders. “Uh…thanks. I’ll see you at work.”
A soft laugh came from Raoul as he took the fare from his wallet. “I will see you inside, and call another cab after you’re settled.”
“No.”
“Yes, Julia.” His tone, though gentle, didn’t brook disagreement, and she simply didn’t have the energy to start another argument.
“Fine,” she muttered.
Lord, she was tired. Too tired to fight, which was frightening. It was too easy to let someone else take control, to find yourself struggling for an identity. Raoul was exactly the sort of man she’d vowed to keep out of her life, and here he was, square in the middle of it.
The interior of her house was chilly, and she hurried to the thermostat and pushed it higher.
“Go lie down,” Raoul murmured. “I will fix you something warm to drink.”
Julia found herself obeying before she could even think. In the bedroom she threw off her skirt and sweater and deliberately pulled on a thick velour nightgown that covered her from her neck to her toes—a far cry from the scraps of lace and silk she’d worn during their time in Washington.
Still…she looked at herself in the mirror and decided that even without the less-than-romantic nightwear, she was hardly a candidate for seduction. Her skin was pale, her medium-length shag-cut hair was stringy around her face, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. The extra tiredness was natural. After all, she was pregnant and she’d never expected to see Raoul again. He’d stormed back into her world with the subtleness of a lovesick camel.
Muppet, her five-year-old black-and-white cat, was curled up on the bedroom fireplace hearth. He got up and stretched when she crawled under the down comforter, then wiggled his way under the sheet to settle next to her stomach.
“Hello,” she whispered, running her fingers through his fur. He purred, and the comforting rumble eased some of the tension in her body.
When Raoul left she would have to force herself to eat and drink more milk. It was like a mantra these days. Eat. Eat. Eat. Drink gallons of milk. And pray the baby gained weight. She’d taken her prenatal vitamins that morning, so….
Julia’s eyes flew open.
The vitamins.
She tried to remember where she’d left them. If they were on the kitchen counter, then the secret was probably out. Alarmed, she slid from the bed and went into the bathroom, gratefully closing her fingers around the bottle sitting on the vanity.
“Julia?”
“I’ll be right out.” Quickly she thrust the bottle into a drawer.
Raoul had placed a tray on her bedside table, and he watched as she hurried across the room. Despite the condition of her stomach and nerves, Julia felt a curl of heat in her abdomen. She’d never expected to be in a bedroom with Raoul Oman again, and it was harder to ignore the memories in such a private setting.
And, while she couldn’t tell what Raoul was thinking, there was a certain intensity in his posture that suggested he was remembering, too.
“I prepared tinned soup and tea,” he said. “Get under your blankets before you become chilled.”
“I turned the heat up.”
Raoul kept the smile from his face, knowing it would simply annoy Julia. There had been many surprises about her that day, and her house was another. It was a beautifully restored brick bungalow from the 1800s, with a simple, restful decor that belied the cool sophistication she projected.
“I hope you don’t object, but I made myself a cup of coffee,” he said when she was settled in her bed, resting against a pile of pillows. “But I thought you would prefer the tea I found by your stove. Herbal, I think.”
Julia’s eyelids fluttered open, and she looked at him, so pale and beautiful that he wanted to pull her into his arms. Their time together had been so brief, yet it seemed that every cell in his body was imprinted with her warmth and scent. Sometimes at night he woke, thinking she was there, and the desire was so strong he would be unable to sleep again.
“You’re welcome to the coffee,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to be…ungracious.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
He wanted to pursue the reason she’d eluded him following the Washington conference, but he couldn’t. Not when she was so vulnerable. Something told him Julia would only resent him for taking advantage, making things more difficult later.
The blankets next to her stirred as she reached for the cup of soup and a furry head poked itself out. Julia stroked the feline’s head with an absent caress and it settled down, watching Raoul with unblinking eyes.
“Your cat seems suspicious.”
“Muppet is protective.”
“Ah, the jealous type…I can understand. He is in an enviable position—one I wouldn’t relinquish easily.”
Raoul could see the muscles in Julia’s throat convulse. He’d given her a reminder of his interest, a reminder she understood. Truly, he couldn’t comprehend why she’d acted one way at the conference—a bold temptress with flashing gold eyes and a sassy smile—and now was so reticent. It was a woman’s prerogative to invite or cast a man from her bed, but this did not make sense.
Still musing on the mystery, Raoul sat on the end of the mattress while he drank his coffee. It wasn’t the Arabic blend he liked best, but at least he’d brewed it at the proper strength.
Julia took small sips of her soup, keeping her gaze cast downward. She was so strong, he disliked seeing her so quiet and withdrawn. Despite her denials, could she really be sick? Something serious?
A chill that had nothing to do with a Chicago winter went through him. Julia had looked well earlier, her color bright with anger, but that didn’t mean there was nothing amiss with her health. When Raoul couldn’t stand wondering any longer, he leaned forward.
“Is Kane correct—are you ill?” he asked. “More than your excuse about recovering from rich holiday food?”
The tip of her tongue flicked over her lips and she put her teacup back on the tray. “I’m fine. Anyway, you don’t have to worry, I’m not your concern.”
“We were lovers,” he reminded. “Do you think I care so little for the women I take to my bed?”
“I…” Julia drew a shaky breath.
We were lovers.
The words reverberated in her heart and mind. They had engaged in the most intimate of acts between a man and woman. She hadn’t wanted to feel pleasure, wanting to think of it as a medical procedure and nothing more, but she’d burned when Raoul Oman touched her. A burning she’d never come close to feeling with another man.
“Never mind, chère,” Raoul murmured. He put his cup on the tray next to her empty soup bowl, then moved both to the top of her dresser.
Tell him.
Her conscience was darned inconvenient, but Julia opened her mouth to the unspoken command. “Raoul, we…I…”
We’re having a baby and I planned it all along. “Rest now. I’ll arrange for you to see a doctor tomorrow.”
Irritation swamped less-comfortable emotions, and she pushed herself farther upright against the head-board. “You’ll do no such thing. I don’t need to see a doctor, and I don’t need you to take care of me.”
For some reason Raoul’s dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps nothing. I told you, I’ve been—”
“Yes,” he interrupted smoothly. “You’ve been taking care of yourself since you were seventeen.”
“That’s right.” Keeping a wary eye on him, Julia snatched the telephone and dialed the taxi company. She asked that a cab be sent to her house as quickly as possible. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes,” she said, returning the receiver to the cradle. It was remarkably fast service considering the weather, but twenty minutes still seemed like twenty years.
Raoul sat next to her on the bed, his leg nudging her hip, as though he had all the time in the world. “You don’t have a family, Julia?”
“Just a father and a brother,” she muttered. “My mother died when I was four. I barely remember her.”
“Your father and brother, you are not close to them?”
“Not in this lifetime.” Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “My brother is a gung ho Navy Seal—sudden death in every direction. He’s older than me, and we never had much in common. We only see each other every couple of years.”
“And your father?”
“I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen. I’m a disappointment, you see. A weak female who wouldn’t toughen up and do what he wanted. He washed his hands of me when I left for college instead of enlisting in his army.”
Raoul fought a surge of anger at the bleak expression on Julia’s face. His own family’s gentle tyranny about marriage and children seemed minor by comparison. How could her father fail to recognize the unique strength of the daughter he’d raised?
“He is a fool,” Raoul said flatly.
Faint surprise registered in her eyes. “He’d argue the point with you—he’s very well thought of by the Pentagon. Last I heard, he’d become a three-star general.”
“That is merely a title. It doesn’t make him less of a fool. A blind man could see that you are not weak. You have the heart of a tigress.”
Julia blinked several times. She would have expected a man like Raoul to defend her father, at least in part, but instead he was supporting her without reservation. A traitorous warmth crept through her body.
“Thank you,” she murmured. A yawn caught her by surprise and she sighed. “Sorry.”
Raoul regarded her for a long minute. “You are tired, chère. I will wait for the taxi in the other room.”
He leaned closer. His finger stroked the arch of one eyebrow, then traced the curve of her cheek, and a flood of remembered sensations made her tremble. She couldn’t have spoken if her life depended upon the words.
“I thought you couldn’t possibly be as lovely as I remembered, but I was wrong.”
The dark, gravelly quality of his voice hypnotized Julia to the point that she didn’t object when he brushed her mouth with his. The light kiss deepened and she sensed the suppressed sexual energy in him, yet even that wasn’t enough to make her pull away. Their brief time together had made her far too susceptible to his potent brand of loving.
“Sleep well,” he murmured. “Please think about seeing a doctor if you’re not better soon.”
“I…yes.” Julia tried to be glad Raoul was too much of a gentleman to attempt a seduction when he believed she was ill. She might manage to actually feel glad in an hour or so.
A moment later he’d closed the door behind him and she curled onto her side, a tear trickling down her cheek. These days she was a confused muddle of pregnancy hormones. Everything was blown out of proportion, her emotions seesawing wildly.
But things would be better in the morning.
They had to be.

Chapter Three
“No more foolishness,” Julia mumbled around the toothbrush in her mouth. She spat a foamy mouthful into the sink and rinsed.
She’d escaped her usual bout of morning sickness, even managing to eat a bowl of cereal and drink a glass of milk. After the previous day that was a miracle, since tense emotions usually made the nausea worse.
And nothing about Raoul Oman was calm and soothing.
She’d had a moment of weakness the previous night, but that moment was over. The baby was the most important thing in her life, and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.
Julia put a hand over her abdomen. Over the past few months she’d worn looser clothing at work, choosing soft, thick sweaters to conceal the rounding of her stomach, rather than her usual silk blouses and suits. Sooner or later it wouldn’t be enough to conceal her secret any longer, and the news would be out. She only prayed it would be good news.
Sometime during the night Julia had realized she would have to tell Raoul, preferably before gossip spread through the company with its usual wildfire speed. He was extremely intelligent. He’d know the baby was his, so the best way of handling the matter was to tell him first and hope for the best. She’d make it clear she didn’t want anything from him, so maybe he wouldn’t care.
“Yeah, right,” she muttered.
The funny thing was, she didn’t have any idea how Raoul would react. Naturally there would be shock in the beginning, but after that?
She shivered, though the house was quite warm. The doorbell interrupted her troubling thoughts, and she stepped into the living room. Peering through a window, she gulped at the sight of Raoul standing on her doorstep.
“Oh, Lord,” she breathed.
It was the perfect opportunity to talk with him privately, but having that particular conversation in her home probably wasn’t smart. Later would be best, at the office, or maybe in a restaurant. In a public location, after she’d had time to think about her announcement—and his possible reactions—for a little longer.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she opened the door.
Raoul smiled, pleased to see the color in Julia’s cheeks. She was lovely, her dark-blond hair falling around her face in the stylish cut she favored. “Good morning, chère.”
“I asked you to stop calling me that.”
“So you did. There are many beautiful Arabic words of affection. Would it please you more if I chose an endearment from my native language?”
“Not especially,” she growled.
Chuckling, he motioned with the key he had taken from her key ring before leaving the previous evening. “I brought your car back from the office. I did not want you inconvenienced because we took a cab home from the restaurant.”
“Oh. You didn’t have to do that.”
She seemed so surprised that Raoul’s mouth tightened. What kind of men had Julia known that she would be surprised by something so small? He’d gotten a clear idea of her father and brother, an idea that wasn’t flattering. Were there others who had acted just as badly?
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, deciding not to upset her with questions she’d already demonstrated she didn’t want to answer.
“Fine.” Her chin lifted. “If you’ll wait while I get my coat and purse, we can go in together.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“No, I’m all right.” Julia disappeared, then returned, pulling on her coat. She locked the door and turned around. “Ready?”
The falsely cheerful tone of her voice didn’t fool Raoul. Though she was plainly in better health today, there was a distinct tension in her body and face.
The snow that had fallen during the night made the footing treacherous, and Raoul put a hand on Julia’s elbow. Fortunately, the winding, snow-lined streets of the neighborhood had already been tended by city employees, making them safe to drive now that the storm had blown over.
When they reached the car he held up the key once more. “Do you wish to drive, or shall I?”
Again, surprise registered in her hazel-gold eyes. “Er…no, go ahead.”
There were so many mysteries about Julia. Raoul shook his head as he closed the passenger door and crossed to the driver’s side of the vehicle. In Washington they had shared a great passion—an uncomplicated passion in many ways. Though he’d sensed deeper currents within his mischievously sensual lover, they’d been well protected.
“Tell me something about the people at Kane Haley, Inc.,” he asked, deciding it was a safe topic, and might help Julia relax. “I’ve met a few, and reviewed the employee records, but that’s all.”
“Well, Margaret Steward is Kane’s administrative assistant. She’s extremely competent and knows the company from top to bottom. She’s great to go to when you have questions or problems. Matthew Holder and Jennifer Martin just got married and they have a baby, but she’s out on maternity leave. Sharon Davies recently married Jack Waterton, who’s one of our big clients. Sharon and I’ve been….” At the swift intake of Julia’s breath, Raoul glanced at her and saw she was more tense than ever.
“Yes?”
“N-nothing. You know Kane, of course.”
“We met when I was attending the Sorbonne.”
“You didn’t go to Oxford?” Julia turned in her seat, nervously adjusting the seat belt over her waist. “I thought it was the school of choice for wealthy Middle-Eastern families.”
“I did attend university in England. But as a compromise to Grand-mère, my post-graduate studies were completed in France at the Sorbonne.”

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