Harlequin Presents: Once Upon A Temptation June 2020--Box Set 2 of 2

experience.
‘Twins!’ Jalil had pronounced, rubbing his hands together with incredulous glee. ‘This is a very special young woman you have brought to us.’
Rafiq had dug deep to extract his innate honesty and had said what he knew would cause distress. ‘This is a young decent woman, with whom I spent one night…’
His uncle surveyed him with tolerance. ‘But Allah saw more clearly and saved you,’ he breathed with genuine emotion, glossing over his nephew’s sinful encounter. ‘This woman is meant to be your wife.’
A little less naïve, Rafiq nodded, accepting that necessity. He was a crown prince and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that the next generation was as important to the stability and popularity of the monarchy as he was. All those years wed to Fadith he had known he was a failure in providing that necessity, in fulfilling that occasionally despairing need a woman could have when it came to conceiving a child. He still could not quite accept that he could have unborn children on the way because, on his terms, it was a miracle…with difficulty, he dragged himself back into the present.
Izzy spared Rafiq a single glance but his lean, darkly handsome features stayed stamped on her brain like the ultimate blueprint of perfection. Her hands a little unsteady, she picked up her knife and fork.
‘So tell me about the fiancée,’ she invited, sweetly sarcastic.
‘There isn’t one. I’m not engaged. I did not contradict your misapprehension in Oxford because I was not in a position to explain that I had, however, recently agreed to remarry and why. As future King I am expected to take a wife. But no particular woman has yet been put forward for the role.’
While relieved that no other woman was involved in their plight to be hurt by her pregnancy, Izzy still made a stabbing motion with her knife in his direction. ‘You didn’t tell me who you were! You left me with no way of contacting you,’ she condemned thinly. ‘I had to go and talk to the receptionist at the rental agency to discover your identity. Why weren’t you honest?’
In a powerful surge of energy, Rafiq rose from his chair and strode across the room, wheeling round before swinging back to face her again. Already, he was fighting the sensation of feeling trapped. ‘Honesty would’ve changed everything between us. Pretending that I was an ordinary businessman kept it relaxed.’
Unimpressed, Izzy lifted her chin. ‘The truth is always preferable,’ she told him.
‘I also liked the fact that you treated me as an equal and that you would have no reason to go and report your night with a prince to the tabloid newspapers who deal in such sleaze.’
‘I didn’t get a night. I got an hour in bed,’ Izzy breathed tightly, wondering if he had been subjected to tabloid exposure of that nature at some stage, resolving right there and then to look it up and devour every word of sleazy revelation. She lifted cool hands to her hot cheeks, wondering what was wrong with her brain, why she would even think of doing such a crazy thing.
‘And it was a wonderful hour,’ Rafiq sliced back at her provocatively, his resolve to be calming taxed by her prickliness and the wall of distrust etched in her once clear eyes.
‘It was an hour that destroyed all my future plans,’ Izzy told him, furious that he was wriggling adeptly out of all her accusations. He had more lives than a cat, she decided resentfully. ‘I love children but I wasn’t planning to have any until I was much older. I wanted to finish my education and get my career started before I even thought of settling down. Now that I’m pregnant my ability to follow those plans has been seriously compromised.’
‘I agree. Children will certainly limit your freedom, which is why I have every intention of ensuring that that accident of fate does not destroy your future,’ Rafiq intoned silkily. ‘This is not a development which either of us foresaw but we must make the best of it.’
‘I doubt that a royal prince knows very much about making the best of anything!’ Izzy parried angrily.
‘I didn’t choose this life, Izzy,’ Rafiq fielded almost harshly. ‘I was born into it and it imposed frustrating limits even when I was a little boy. Couldn’t do this, couldn’t do that, couldn’t be seen to do many things as future King, couldn’t be allowed to do anything that might seem too bold or different or aggressive or dangerous. There was an endless list of prohibitions and rules to follow, so, yes, I do know a great deal about making the best of a situation.’
Disconcerted by that flood of blunt explanation, Izzy lost colour and dropped her head. ‘I’m in a snippy mood…but look on the bright side, at least I’m not shouting.’
Rafiq moved closer, his extraordinary eyes a mesmeric pure gold fringed by well-defined inky lashes. ‘Must we dispute? Cannot we…even for one short minute…celebrate the conception of our children?’
‘C-celebrate?’ Izzy stammered and stared back at him in stark disbelief.
‘Yes, celebrate,’ Rafiq countered forcefully, leaning back against the footboard of the bed. ‘You said that the truth is always preferable and I will not lie to you. That you have conceived feels like a miracle to me. It is amazing news and I am overjoyed…’
‘Overjoyed,’ Izzy almost whispered in her astonishment.
‘I thought I couldn’t have children,’ he reminded her drily. ‘And because of that inability, my younger brother was going to be forced to marry young to provide me with an heir to the throne.’
Izzy frowned. ‘Why can’t he be your heir?’
‘It doesn’t work that way in Zenara’s constitution. Zayn’s child being accepted as an heir would have been a big enough change to the usual direct line of succession from the eldest son. That I have conceived my own child makes life simpler for everyone,’ he completed.
Her heart had been warmed by the notion of her conception being worthy of celebration. Such an attitude radically