Free Chosen by the Sheikh by Kim Lawrence

an inelegant heap on the floor.
    â€˜My father is already on his way to the hospital. I must join him there.’
    This would be the first time since his stroke that his father,the King, pain fully self-conscious of his slurred speech and too proud to allow his people to see he needed the aid of a stick to walk, had left his private suite.
    Khalid’s accident had done what he Tariq had failed to do for the past two years. But Tariq was in no mood to appreciate the silver lining in this situation.
    â€˜But Khalid—he will be all right…?’
    â€˜I will let you know when we have more news.’ Tariq scanned her face and was relieved to see a tinge of colour in her cheeks. ‘I will have someone come and attend to you.’
    â€˜I don’t need waiting on. I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.’ Beatrice was anxious that he did not judge her normal behaviour on the last few minutes.
    â€˜And now you want my brother to look after you? I can see the attraction of that for a woman who has been forced to live off her own wits.’
    The assumption brought a sparkle of annoyance to Beatrice’s green eyes. Knees like jelly, she got to her feet. ‘I suppose you do know your ideas are straight out of the ark? Maybe there are some women who would sacrifice their independence and freedom for security, but not me. I’m not looking for any man to take care of me.’ Beatrice knew that the only person she could rely on was herself.
    He looked startled by her forceful pronouncement. ‘Then why marry?’
    She responded without thinking. ‘Marriage has never been part of my plan…’ ‘Plan’ was actually too definite a term, but Beatrice had never pictured herself meeting anyone she would contemplate spending the rest of her life with. ‘I’m not into compromise.’ And it often seemed to her that that was what marriage was all about.
    â€˜Then you met Khalid?’
    She flushed self-consciously and silently cursed her runaway tongue. ‘Then I met Khalid,’ she agreed, as her lashes swept down in a concealing curtain.
    â€˜I will keep you informed of his condition.’
    â€˜You’re not leaving me here!’ she ex claimed. ‘I’m coming with you.’
    He spun back, looking startled by the comment.
    â€˜That is quite in appropriate.’
    Beatrice stuck out her chin in response to the frigid dismissal, but her belligerence was superficial. It was just dawning on her that, whether she liked it or not, Tariq’s word was pretty much law around here, and if he chose not to allow her access to Khalid there was not a damn thing she could do about it.
    Actually, if Tariq chose to put her on the first plane home there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it!
    It was a pity she couldn’t use the same excuse for her shameful response to his love making.
    Banishing the stream of erotic images that flickered across her mind, she struggled to keep the cool smile in place. ‘I really don’t give a damn for appropriate. I’m not about to sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to remember I exist.’
    An expression she couldn’t quite pin down flickered across his lean features. ‘I will not forget you exist.’
    He didn’t tack on unfortunately , but it was clearly what he was thinking. Quite irrationally, Beatrice felt a stab of hurt.
    â€˜Khalid is hurt and I want to be there.’ She had to be there—for Emma. Depending on what she found at the hospital, she would have to make a judgement whether to inform Emma right away or wait until Khalid was better… if Khalid got better…
    Beatrice felt panic crowding in on her from all sides, robbing her of the ability to think clearly. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she fought her way past the knot of dread like a cold stone in her belly.
    She sucked in a deep, steadying breath. There was no point assuming the