A feeling of dread washed over her. She sat up, the bedclothes clutched to her breast.
“Your plane?”
Karim tugged the bedclothes away. Bent his head, kissed her breasts.
“We’re going home,” he said softly. “To Alcantar.”
The plane ride seemed endless—far longer than the one from Vegas to New York.
Roberta had come with them. She and Ethan settled comfortably in the bedroom in the rear of the cabin.
Rachel was full of questions.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were flying to Alcantar today?”
Karim laced his fingers through hers.
“I was going to. Then I thought it would only make you nervous.”
True enough. She wasn’t just nervous, she was terrified. The realization that she was about to meet Karim’s father was daunting.
“But what if he doesn’t l
ike me?”
Karim put his arm around her and drew her head to his shoulder.
“Sweetheart, he will.” He smiled. “Besides, he’s been after me for years to find a proper wife.”
“Am I a proper wife for you?” Rachel said in a small voice.
He laughed and dropped a kiss on her temple.
“You are a proper wife for any man, but especially for one who loves you as I do.” He paused. “I told him about Ethan.”
Rachel looked at him.
“And—and what did he say?”
What, indeed? Karim cleared his throat.
“He was surprised, of course. But my father, for all his—what shall I call it?—for all his imperial attitude, my father is a practical man. He is glad he has a grandson.”
“But—but he thinks—I mean, he knows that Rami—that I—”
“Yes.”
“And?”