‘I’m going home. Where else would I be going?’
‘Forget it.’
‘Sorry?’
‘No way are you going to run out on me without finishing this conversation!’
‘What’s there to finish? I’ve already explained what happened!’
‘Don’t be naive, Georgie.’
‘Naive?’ She laughed humourlessly. ‘Believe me, if I was ever naive, that stopped the second I found out I was pregnant. Having a baby on your own makes a person grow up extremely fast, trust me. And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I would never lie to you about something like this.’
No. He already knew she wouldn’t. As he stared down at her, Abe’s mind was still reeling from a bombshell he hadn’t seen coming. How couldhe be afather?
Fatherhood was obviously on the agenda, but at some vague future point in time. He had returned four years ago to the immediate stress of having to step up to the plate and take over where his father had been obliged to leave off and, since that time, he had given only passing thought to the inevitability of marrying and producing heirs, even though he had been pointedly introduced to several suitable women and even dated one, two years previously.
He’d refused to be rushed into anything. It would happen and it would happen at a time of his choosing and with a suitable woman, also of his choosing. But now? Fatherhood? A bolt from the blue hurled at him from nowhere and embedded into his rigorously controlled life without warning? He was struggling to take it in.
Abbas had grown up with the mantra of the importance of having a cool head when it came to the responsibilities of his position. He’d studied the history books and knew the history of his own bloodline all too well. He was well versed in how things could implode when emotion got the better of measured judgement—what his country needed was calm guidance. He’d watched, alone, from the sidelines as his father had fallen apart and then withdrawn at the death of his mother from cancer, and he’d decided as a small boy that falling in love was a road he’d never knowingly choose to travel. But the visceral emotion that had exploded inside him on discovering he had fathered a child with Georgie, a perfect little girl, suddenly warred with the cool, calm demeanour he’d spent a lifetime honing and the vision of practical duty he’d always pictured lay ahead of him. The impact of the collision felt as if it had just cracked something inside him, and he hurriedly sought to paper over it before it turned into a breach too wide to contemplate right now, when it was more important than ever that his country had the effective leader it needed. So that when duty finally beckoned, he would be fully prepared to control the outcome.
Except, as he eyed the mother of his child standing in front of him with a challenging tilt to her chin, it appeared that, far from being in control of any outcome, he was staring down the barrel of a gun, still clinging to the flimsy hope that somehow things were not as they seemed.
‘You’re in a state of shock,’ Georgie stated as calmly as he wished he could sound right now.
‘To put it mildly,’ he said in a driven undertone.
‘You want to believe that I’m making this all up but I’m not. I know you’re probably wishing I’d kept my mouth shut because the last thing you need is...this...in your life, but I couldn’t do that to you or to Tilly. It wouldn’t have been right to keep the existence of your daughter from you. I know how important parenthood is. My father was there for me every step of the way after my mum died. I would never have dreamt of depriving you of at least knowing that you are a father, even if you choose not to do anything about it.’
‘No, there is no way I would have rather you said nothing...’
He raked shaking fingers through his hair and stared at her, but he wasn’t seeingher, he was seeing a future he hadn’t predicted, frantically trying to recalculate what this would mean for him and for his country. The ground was moving under his feet, as perilous as quicksand, but even so he meant what he said. She had come to say her piece and, even if she had blown a hole in his minutely planned future, he was still incredibly glad that she had told him. He already wanted to meet his new daughter with everything that was in him. But on the heels of that thought came once again the sudden fear that the walls he’d fought for so long to build and reinforce were in danger of developing hairline cracks that he couldn’t allow to worsen, which had him forcibly pulling himself together.
‘You tell me that I have a child,’ he said, his shoulders straight and his voice entirely steady now, ‘and I believe you. But DNA proof will be required. Once we have that, then we can talk further.’ He hesitated, cleared his throat. ‘The photo. I would like to see it again.’
Georgie’s eyes tangled with his for a few tense seconds then she looked away, rummaged in the bag to extract the photo and handed it to him and watched because this time he reallylooked. When at last his spectacular dark eyes lifted from intently studying Tilly’s image and rested on her again, they were cool and unrevealing.
‘Tomorrow,’ he told her in a voice that left no room for her to manoeuvre, ‘I will arrange for a DNA test to be performed.’
‘Don’t you trust me to do it? No, don’t answer that. Of course, you don’t!’
‘This has nothing to do with trust,’ he countered quietly. ‘Make sure you and...the child, Matilda, are available. I will personally text you to give you the details. Allow me to have your number.’
‘Don’t think you can order me around!’ But her voice wavered because the implications of the situation were beginning to sink in. With the best of intentions she had clambered on board a roller coaster and she was only now realising that she had no idea how far it would go or how fast before she could get off.
But there was no reason why she shouldn’t remain in full control during the ride, was there?
Whatever happened, whether he was royalty or not, she, as Tilly’s mother, would always be in a position to call the shots.
‘This is very far from ordering you around, Georgie. This is about a protocol that must be followed. I am a crown prince and a DNA test is not a matter of choice in this instance, but one of necessity. I hope you can see that.’
‘Yes. I suppose so.’
The following day she kept Tilly home from nursery and fudged an excuse to skip work so that she could wait for Abe’s doctor to make an appearance.
She had heard the ping of her phone at six in the morning and had read what she should expect and who.
There had been no sentimentality in the message, nothing to set her mind at ease. Practical information was imparted by Abe, and she was told that he would contact her at precisely nine that evening, by which time he would already be in possession of the results.
