Leila glanced at the magazine cover with him and his tart on it simply to remind herself that the man she had met that night had been with others since then.
She imagined for a brief moment the future, explaining his salacious ways to their child.
She didn’t even nod to the driver; instead Leila sat in the back of the limousine and decided to put some lipstick on.
For two reasons.
One, she remembered that he didn’t like it on her.
Two, the name matched her mood, Leila told herself—she had pride.
‘Why have we stopped?’ Leila asked as the car came to a halt near Times Square.
‘Mr Chatsfield’s orders,’ the driver said, and Leila followed his gaze. The square, always busy, had a large crowd gathering where the driver was looking and they were all pointing up at a sign and Leila looked up.
There were red hearts popping out but just as she went to read the words they disappeared and the image of a smiling James appeared. He was holding a ring and was down on one knee.
Leila felt sick.
The words were back now.
Marry me, Leila.
Never.
As simply as that, her decision was made and Leila went to get out of the car.
‘Unlock this door,’ Leila said to the driver, but he ignored her. ‘You will unlock this door now,’ Leila said, anger and panic mounting. ‘That is a royal order.’
But instead of following her command, the divider slid closed and music came on instead.
No, she would not marry a man who had left her bed and jumped straight into another’s. No way would she marry a man who only wanted her because she was pregnant. She had lived her life in a world without love and there was no way she would do that to either herself or her child.
Leila took a cleansing breath and tried to slow down her breathing. They would talk it through, Leila decided. There was no need for marriage; she had spoken with mothers at the park who raised their children alone.
They would come to the arrangements she had heard of.
Yes, she would speak to him, calmly, logically, and she would not throw a shoe this time.
Why was there a crowd outside The Chatsfield? Leila briefly wondered. Why were there photographers and people cheering as the door opened and she stepped out from the car?
Why was the red carpet covered in rose petals? And why was James walking out of the impressive entrance and making his smiling way towards her?
She wanted to turn and run but she could not, for to do so would publically reveal that it had been a one-night stand, not just to her people but later to their child.
It would insinuate she had been there only for sex.
Which she had been, Leila told herself.
No, that wasn’t quite true, for she had been about to turn tail and run until she had seen James smile.
She stood on the carpet, trying to block out the shouts and cheers and the flashing lights of the cameras.
There was that smile she had fallen for, only she didn’t welcome it tonight.
There was the man whom her body adored, for it wanted to run to him. Her shaking legs wanted to run to the shield of his arms, but her anger with him meant that she fought it as he walked towards her and finally came to a stand.
‘Leila,’ James said in a very clear voice. ‘You are the only woman for me, I know that...’
She wanted to vomit.
For the past twelve weeks she had been brilliant at it, yet it wouldn’t happen now.
She wanted to stand before the man who was holding out a ring and vomit at his feet. Yet her cover had been exposed and she was back to being a princess again, which meant she knew how to behave in public.
‘You,’ James continued his, for something that should surely be personal, rather loud speech, ‘and our baby mean the world to me. I have never been happier than when I am with you. Like all couples we’ve had our ups and downs but I’m hoping,’ James said, and then he hesitated and Leila frowned because she knew he was faking that he was possibly about to cry, ‘in fact, I’m praying...’ James dropped to his knees and held out a ring and she stood with poise.
Wait for it, James thought.
Just wait till that television crew was ready.
Yep, now they were.
‘Princess Leila of Surhaadi, and forever my princess, please give me the honour of making you my wife. Leila, will you marry me?’
She stared back at him, into his chocolate-brown eyes, and he was so bloody assured that he didn’t even blink.
He knew as well as Leila did that she had no choice but to say yes.
‘It would be my honour,’ Leila suitably answered, and not just the crowd outside went wild. It was if the whole of Manhattan erupted, for in Times Square they had been holding their collective breath but started cheering when the news flashed up.
SHE SAID YES!
James placed the ring he had today chosen on her rigid finger and, as he stood, she gave him a loving smile. But her golden eyes flashed fire as he moved in to kiss her and then a smiling Leila moved her head.