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Sarah And The Secret Sheikh
Michelle Douglas


Expecting the sheikh's baby… When one magical night with gorgeous and enigmatic Majed leaves Sarah pregnant, she's torn apart over whether to reveal her secret. She already loves this baby, but will confirmed bachelor Majed feel the same?Discovering he's going to be a father changes everything for Majed. It's time to face the music and unveil his true identity as Prince of Keddah Jaleel! He'd love to make Sarah his sheikha, if only he can convince her she'll be much more than his convenient bride…







Expecting the sheikh’s baby...

When one magical night with gorgeous and enigmatic Majed leaves Sarah pregnant, she’s torn apart over whether to reveal her secret. She already loves this baby, but will confirmed bachelor Majed feel the same?

Discovering he’s going to be a father changes everything for Majed. It’s time to face the music and unveil his true identity as Prince of Keddah Jaleel! He’d love to make Sarah his sheikha, if only he can convince her she’ll be much more than his convenient bride...


“What did you want to talk to me about?”

She stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her trousers. “I think you should come and take a seat and—”

“Stop fudging! Don’t delay any longer, Sarah. Out with it.”

“Fine!” She folded her arms, stuck out a hip. She swallowed, but lifted her chin. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment her words made no sense. He even momentarily reveled in the relief that she wasn’t planning to leave Melbourne. “You’re—” he rubbed his nape “—pregnant?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“And...?”

She flopped down to her stool. She lifted her arms and then let them drop back into her lap. Her mouth trembled and her eyes were full of fear and sadness and tears and, strangely, some laughter. Her eyes contained the entire world. “And the baby is yours, Majed.”


Sarah and the Secret Sheikh

Michelle Douglas






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


MICHELLE DOUGLAS has been writing for Mills & Boon since 2007 and believes she has the best job in the world. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero, a house full of dust and books, and an eclectic collection of sixties and seventies vinyl. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website: www.michelle-douglas.com (http://www.michelle-douglas.com).


To my Auntie Ellen and Uncle Reg for letting me run wild on their Mount Vincent property when I was a wee, small thing...and for trusting I’d neither inadvertently drown myself in the dam or be eaten alive by the wildlife.


Contents

Cover (#u04bbee24-6474-5cf3-9562-d6b81030e83a)

Back Cover Text (#u3f8b3270-bc07-51d8-b786-4bf8ad43fb32)

Introduction (#ufd237e29-7994-58dc-8ca1-f44f2b703de0)

Title Page (#u11898f29-4966-5eb0-8b0c-369cb4d3ae56)

About the Author (#u56d18937-8971-550d-b4ee-feb59ccb560e)

Dedication (#u4104c75a-716c-575c-afbc-ebc21ee12a8a)

CHAPTER ONE (#u78bc81ae-8313-5e47-973d-a996a37ba11f)

CHAPTER TWO (#u6f3e3145-01d1-5961-ba09-9d75f0feb719)

CHAPTER THREE (#u1f5fcc91-a2c5-5cb1-9999-828f9d5e749f)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u077809bc-995d-5be0-a70a-971026146358)

SARAH SLID ONTO a stool and held her hand up for a high five as Majed passed on the other side of the bar. The palm-on-palm contact from the sexy barman sent heat ricocheting up her arm.

His raised eyebrow told her he was intrigued and she had to tamp down a laugh of pure, ridiculous exhilaration. His briefly raised finger told her to give him a moment while he served someone down the other end of the bar.

She settled onto the stool. She’d happily wait a hundred moments to share her news with him.

A hundred moments?

She rolled her shoulders and shook out her arms and legs. Maybe not a hundred moments. It wasn’t as though she thought of Majed in that way. Even if he was sexy as all-get-out, with his dark hair, tawny skin, and eyes as dark as a desert at midnight. She bit back a dreamy sigh. Eyes that were edged with long, dark lashes that should be wasted on a man but weren’t in this case as they only made him look more exotic.

But no. It wasn’t because Majed was hot with a capital H that she’d quite happily wait until closing time to tell him her news but because she knew he’d understand. An easy-going friendship had sprung up between them over the past year when she’d barely been paying attention and she gave thanks for it now.

He prepared the order for the three women at the far end of the bar—mojitos—with a casual elegance Sarah envied. The women all flirted with him—flashing smiles and cleavage with a good-natured abandon that had Sarah biting back a grin. He said something that made them laugh, looking for all intents and purposes completely at ease, yet she sensed he held some part of himself back.

Majed: man of mystery, man of contrasts. He managed this bar but he didn’t drink. He attracted women in droves—and some men—and was equally pleasant and courteous to all. He could have his pick from the beautiful people who frequented this inner-city Melbourne bar but she’d never seen him go home with anyone.

Mike, her best friend’s older brother and the owner of the bar, had asked her to keep an eye on Majed, to give him a hand if need be. As he was letting her crash at his swanky inner-city apartment for the six months of his current overseas sabbatical, it had seemed little enough to promise in return. Mike called her his house-sitter but, as he had no cat to feed or houseplants to water, Sarah had secretly dubbed herself his charity case. Mike had simply taken pity on her.

Pity or not, she’d jumped at the chance to cut forty-five minutes each way from her daily commute.

And keeping an eye on Majed had proved no hardship at all.

Mike had mentioned that he and Majed had gone to university together. She knew where Mike had gone to university. Majed should be a banker or a businessman or some hotshot lawyer. Like Mike, he should have a whole chain of bars, restaurants and resorts across the world—or at least be working towards it. What he shouldn’t be doing was twiddling his thumbs behind some bar in Melbourne.

Oh, right, and you think you’re qualified to be dispensing vocational advice, right?

She winced.

Good point.

She knew all about treading water in a job that was going nowhere. She knew all about not living up to her potential. She ought to. Her mother reminded her of it every single time they spoke.

Majed moved back down the bar towards her and she resolutely shoved her mother’s voice out of her head.

‘Your usual?’

Her usual was a glass of house white. She straightened and rubbed her hands together. ‘I’ll have bubbles, please.’

That eyebrow rose higher. ‘Celebrating something?’

She laughed because she couldn’t help it. ‘I can’t drink alone tonight. Let me buy you a drink.’ He opened his mouth but she cut him off. ‘Be a devil and have a lemon squash on me.’

Shaking his head, he did as she bid, and she noticed that at her end of the bar his smile was more relaxed and his shoulders swung a little freer. The fact he relaxed around her loosened the hard knots that the working day had wound up tight inside her.

He slid a glass of bubbles in front of her and she promptly clinked it to his glass of squash. ‘To the fact that I am now officially a single woman again.’

Stunned midnight eyes met hers and his smile, when it came, was low and long and sent a spiral of heat circling through her belly.

He leaned towards her. ‘You did it? You broke up with Superior Sebastian?’

Ah...not exactly. Sebastian had been the one to dump her. But it came to the same thing—she was single and rid of the awful boyfriend. And Majed looked so happy for her...he looked proud of her. It had been an age since anyone had looked at her like that, so she didn’t have it in her to correct him.

She pointed to herself. ‘Free woman.’ That, after all, was the material point. She then waved her hand through the air, assuming supreme indifference. ‘I’ve kicked his sorry ass to the kerb. Never again, I tell you.’ And she meant it. She was having no more of Sebastian’s on-again, off-again mind games. She couldn’t even remember why she’d put up with it all in the first place.

Majed took a long pull on his drink and she couldn’t help but notice the lean, tanned column of his throat and the implicit strength in the broad expanse of his shoulders. He set his glass down. ‘Never again?’

She shook her head. ‘Never.’

‘Cross your heart?’

She crossed her heart. In one smooth movement Majed leaned across the bar, cupped her face in big, warm hands and then his lips slammed down on hers in a brief but blistering kiss.

When he eased back all she could do was stare.

He frowned. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

She tried to marshal her scattered wits, tried to corral her racing pulse. ‘Oh, yes, you should.’ She found herself nodding vigorously. ‘You really should’ve done that.’

Whatever he saw in her face chased his shadows away. He shrugged, and she swore it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. ‘I couldn’t kiss you when you were going out with another man.’

Majed had wanted to kiss her? If she’d known that, she might’ve broken up with Sebastian sooner.

Her heart pounded. ‘I was an idiot to put up with Sebastian and his so-called “this is for your own good” sermons for so long. It’s just...’ It was just that sometimes she was hopeless.

Majed folded himself down on the bar until he was eye-level with her. ‘You will get his voice out of your head right now and you won’t let it back in. You hear me? You do not need to lose weight. You do not need to wear more make-up. You do not need to do your hair differently. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with ordering a fluffy duck rather than a martini, because you don’t have to be too cool for school, Sarah Collins. You’re perfect just the way you are.’

She stared at that mouth uttering those delicious words—words she sorely wanted to believe—and her chest coiled up tight and her mouth dried. She glanced up and moistened her lips. He watched the action and midnight eyes glittered and sparked. Her blood pounded so hard it made her thighs soften. ‘Now I want to kiss you,’ she whispered.

‘That wouldn’t be wise.’

But he was staring at her lips with unadorned hunger and he didn’t move away.

‘Perhaps not, but it’d be fun.’

He gave the tiniest of nods in acknowledgement.

She lifted her chin. Mike had asked her to keep an eye on him. ‘When was the last time you had fun, Majed?’

His pupils momentarily dilated. ‘A long time.’

In those eyes she saw unexplained pain before heavy lids lowered to block it from her sight.

She sat back and surveyed him. He’d been counselling her for months now, telling her she deserved something better than a constantly critical boyfriend. And he’d been right—she did deserve better. And so did he. The way he was going, he’d work himself into an early grave.

She pursed her lips. That might be an exaggeration. She was rubbish at the work side of things but she could make up for it on the play side of the equation. ‘Do you ever drink?’ she asked.

He straightened. ‘I’ll be back.’

He moved away to serve a customer. When he returned he folded himself down into the same eye-level position. Did he know how sexy that was? Did he know she’d only have to close the space with a small forward movement to kiss him? If she did...

‘You have very speaking eyes.’

His grin was full of temptation. It was all she could do not to swoon—or kiss him. She settled for grinning back at him instead. ‘I’m feeling happy, free...and in the mood for some fun.’

She’d never been this bold before, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. She’d made a fool of herself over far less worthy things.

She shrugged but she doubted it was one of those confident, nonchalant gestures all the cool girls managed. Something in the gesture, though, made Majed’s face soften. ‘What can I say, Majed? I like you.’

He was quiet for a long moment and just when she’d started readying herself for a hot squirm of embarrassment, and the shame of a kindly worded rejection, he said, ‘Brandy. Sometimes, late at night when I’m home alone, I’ll indulge in a small glass of brandy.’

Her heart grew so big it blocked her throat, leaving her temporarily unable to speak. Finally she swallowed. Air flooded her lungs and her blood danced. ‘Maybe you’d like to have a brandy with me tonight? When you’re done here?’

He reached out to wind his finger around a lock of her hair. ‘There’s no maybe about it. I’d like it very much.’

Ooh! Ooh! She found it impossible to form a coherent thought.

He gestured towards the far end of the bar to the waiting customers. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She couldn’t believe how strongly her voice emerged when the rest of her felt as weak and shapeless as smoke. Well...it felt weak until his smile sent her floating up towards the ceiling.

* * *

Sarah stretched and encountered a warm male body.

She opened one eye to find Majed sending her a low, sexy smile that warmed her blood. Her other eye flew open as the events of the previous night flooded her. Their love-making had... Wow! She gulped She hadn’t known it could be like that.

‘Good morning.’

She couldn’t contain a grin. ‘From where I’m lying, it’s a very good morning.’

She lifted a hand to trace the firm contours of his bare chest. Majed sucked in a breath. And then three loud knocks pounded on her front door. Her hand stilled. Majed raised an eyebrow.

She lifted a finger to her lips. ‘If we’re quiet they might go away.’

The knocking started up again.

And again.

Majed’s lips twitched. ‘They don’t seem to want to give up.’

She bit back a sigh before pointing a finger at him. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

He brought her finger to his lips and kissed it. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

She slipped on a robe and belted it at her waist. ‘I’ll be back. Very soon.’ She’d get rid of whoever it was in double-quick time.

And then maybe they could resume last night’s...delights.

Majed shucked up the bed, resting his hands behind his head. The sheet threatened to slip beyond his waist. All she had to do was grab the sheet in one hand, tug, and...

If it were possible, Majed’s smile grew wider and sexier. ‘Answer the door, Sarah.’

Oh, yes! The sooner she got rid of her unwelcome visitor the sooner she could get back to bed...and Majed.

It was all she could do to contain a shimmy when she flung open the door.

‘What the hell took you so long?’ Sebastian barrelled into the room.

Her jaw dropped and then she pointed back the way he’d come. ‘Leave, Sebastian. Right this moment. We’ve nothing to say. We’re done, so just please go.’

‘Hey, baby, don’t be so hasty.’

He tried to take her in his arms, but she side-stepped him. Majed had been so right about Sebastian. Why hadn’t she realised that sooner?

Because you wanted to annoy your mother.

‘Aw, Cuddles...’

‘Don’t call me baby and do not call me Cuddles!’ God, how she loathed that nickname. It made her sound like an over-fed cat. A neutered over-fed cat. ‘We have nothing—’

‘I’m sorry, baby. I know I was awful yesterday. I’d had a terrible day at work. I didn’t mean what I said, and I don’t want to break up with you.’

Had she honestly fallen for this tripe in the past? ‘I don’t want you to want me back, Sebastian. What I want is for you to leave. Now.’

He frowned evidently baffled. Shame, hot and queasy, made her stomach churn. When had she let herself become such a pushover? When had she decided to settle for so little?

He straightened and moved towards her, determination glinting in the hard twist of his mouth. Good God, did he mean to kiss her into submission? If he tried it he’d find himself on the floor clutching his groin. Her mother had taught her about men like him.

‘If you touch the lady, I’ll be forced to take action.’

Majed leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of snug cotton trunks—royal blue—that did nothing to hide his...impressiveness. Her mouth dried at the sheer magnificence of six feet of honed muscle lounging in the doorway, waiting for her to come back to bed. A sigh of pure appreciation rose through her.

Sebastian stared from Majed to Sarah and back again. It would’ve been almost comical if his surprise hadn’t been so darned offensive. Finally he swung around and called her a one-word name that made her flinch.

With the casual elegance she envied, Majed strode across and landed a right hook to Sebastian’s jaw. Hauling him off the floor, he dragged him to the door and flung him out into the hallway before closing the door on him.

He did it efficiently. Like a trained warrior. And Sarah had no hope of getting her pulse back under control. ‘Um...thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Her heart thundered in her ears. Would it be really poor form to push Majed back into the bedroom and have her wicked way with him? Or should she offer him coffee first? Actually, she had no intention of doing anything without his signal consent because...

She swallowed. Because at the moment he looked seriously forbidding.

She gripped her hands in front of her and prayed for her fantasy lover—the Majed of last night—to come back.

‘You lied to me.’

She blinked. ‘When?’

‘You told me you’d dumped him.’

She swallowed, her hands twisting together. ‘I told you I was a free woman.’

‘But you deliberately let me believe the break-up was at your instigation, yes?’

Her heart sank. She had. He’d been so proud of her...and she’d wanted to revel in the sensation. She refused to compound the lie with another one. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded instead. She wished he’d smile. She tried for levity. ‘Are you going to punch me on the nose now?’

He did smile, but it was the kind of smile that made her heart ache. ‘I would never do anything to hurt you, Sarah.’ He strode over and lifted her wrist to his lips. ‘I’ve had a wonderful night.’

She did what she could to swallow the lump that tried to lodge in her throat. ‘So did I,’ she whispered. ‘But from the look on your face, I’m guessing this is goodbye.’

‘Yes.’

He let go of her hand and it felt as if she’d been cast adrift on an endless grey sea. ‘Goodbye...for good?’

He nodded.

‘Even though I didn’t instigate the break-up, I wanted it just as much as Sebastian did. I was relieved that it was over.’

‘So why do I now feel as if you were searching for a distraction last night to take your mind off your hurt?’

That wasn’t true! But she could see he wouldn’t believe her. She’d ruined it—ruined the chance at something amazing—with one careless lie. She tamped down on the sob that rose in her chest. ‘I messed up.’ Again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ah, Sarah.’ For a moment regret stretched through his eyes. ‘You’re on the rebound, and I’m in an impossible situation. There really wasn’t anything to mess up.’

He kissed her cheek and then strode back into the bedroom to dress. Sarah stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee and try to formulate a plan to salvage something from the situation. The click of the front door told her not to bother.

She walked back into the living room and stared at the closed door. With an effort, she straightened and pushed her shoulders back. Majed was right. Great sex didn’t automatically make for a great relationship.

For heaven’s sake, she didn’t need a boyfriend. What she needed was some time alone to get her head straight—work out what she really wanted. It might be for the best if she didn’t drop into the bar quite so regularly this week. Maybe not drop in at all for a couple of weeks.

But the thought of not seeing Majed at all caught at her in a way that made her ache. Not to have the chance to chat with him or share a joke...

She dragged both hands back through her hair. ‘No, Majed, you’re wrong. I did mess up. I messed up bad.’

* * *

Majed sensed the exact moment Sarah walked into the bar.

Even though he had his back to the door.

Even though it was a Wednesday night and she hardly ever came into the bar on a Wednesday night.

Not that she’d shown her face in here all that often in the last six weeks.

He set a Scotch and soda in front of the customer he was serving, took their money and gave change, all the while readying himself for the jolt of seeing her. He glanced towards the door. She’d stopped to chat to a table of her friends—other regulars—and he did what he could to ignore the clutch low down in his gut. She’d had this effect on him from the very first moment he’d met her. In all likelihood she’d have it on him till the day he died. Some things were just like that—desert sunsets, palm fronds moving in a breeze, the scent of spices on the air...and the sight of Sarah.

It didn’t excuse the fact he’d been an idiot to go home with her. He should’ve resisted the temptation. After all, he’d managed to avoid desert sunsets, date palms and spice markets with remarkable ease.

He pushed the memories away—memories of home. They might haunt his sleeping hours, but he refused to dwell on them when he was awake.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He still couldn’t believe he’d relaxed his guard so much.

It was just...

He grabbed a cloth and vigorously wiped down the bar. She’d made him feel like he could be someone different—that he was someone different. When she spotlighted him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, she made him feel worthy. And, God forgive him, but he’d been too weak not to revel in it.

The man at the far end of the bar tapped his empty beer glass. Majed got him another. He bent down to check the stock in the fridge. But, rather than rows of wine bottles and mixers, all he could see was fragments from the night he’d spent with Sarah. They replayed through his mind on an endless loop—the curvaceous length of her leg, the way her body had arched to meet his, the taste of her. They drew him so tight, his muscles started to ache. That night had been spectacular—unforgettable.

But the morning after...

He straightened in time to see her laugh at something one of her friends said. Her stupid lie—it hadn’t even been a big lie—had reminded him of the mistakes that lay in his past. His hands clenched. Mistakes he had no intention of repeating.

And it had reminded him of all that he owed his family. He forced his hands to unclench. Where on earth did he think a romance with an Australian woman could go? He grabbed a tray of dirty glasses and stacked them in readiness for the dishwasher. If he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of his family he’d have to submit to a traditional marriage—a marriage made for political purposes that would cement democracy in his beloved Keddah Jaleel and ensure peace for future generations.

Love for his homeland welled inside him. He missed the desert night sky. He missed walking beneath the date palms on the banks of the Bay’al River. He missed the bustle of the undercover markets, the air heavy with the scent of clove and nutmeg. He missed...

His throat started to ache. When he returned—if he returned, if his father ever countenanced it—Ahmed wouldn’t be there to greet him, and he didn’t know how he could bear to live there without his brother. He didn’t know how he could meet his father’s bitter disappointment every single day, or how to assuage his mother’s heartbreak. He missed his homeland but he didn’t know how he could ever return.

And yet for one night Sarah had made him forget all of that. He hungered now for the respite she represented—the respite she would probably still offer to him freely if he asked for it—but he had no right to such respite. And the thought of making love to a woman who was in love with another man was anathema to him. Pride forbade it.

He lifted his chin and didn’t pretend not to see her as she made her way towards the bar...and him. ‘Good evening.’ The words growled out of him and she stopped a pace short of the bar. He could’ve bitten his tongue off for sounding so damned forbidding. He tried to inject a note of friendliness as he flipped a coaster onto the bar in front of the nearest stool and said, ‘Your usual?’

She eyed him warily as she slid onto the stool. ‘Just a lemonade, please.’

It might be a work night but that had never stopped her drinking before. Not that she ever got rollicking drunk. She’d once told him she drank in an effort to anaesthetise herself to the mind-numbing mundanity of her life. It had made all the sore places inside him ache.

Fellow feeling—that was what he and Sarah had shared from the first.

And attraction. At least on his part. It had been instant. And insistent. And it had had nothing to do with his covert—and not so covert—scheme to rid her of Superior Sebastian.

He set her lemonade in front of her. ‘Has Sebastian been giving you any trouble?’ Was she seeing him again?

She paused in the act of reaching for her drink. ‘Good God, no. Not since...’

Not since Majed had thrown him out of her apartment?

‘And good riddance to him.’ She drank deeply and then shot him a mischievous, if half-hearted, grin. ‘Sebastian who?’

He wished he could believe her. She deserved better than the likes of the Sebastians of this world. He took in her pallor, the dark circles under her eyes, and wondered how long it would take her to get over him. ‘You’re better off without him.’ Sebastian had never been worthy of her, had never appreciated her the way she ought to be appreciated.

‘I know.’

He could almost believe her...

‘Look, Majed, I didn’t come here to talk about Sebastian. I—’

She broke off to bite her lip. Something in Majed’s gut coiled at the way her gaze slid away, at the way she compulsively jiggled her straw in her drink. ‘What have you come here to talk about?’

She glanced around the room. It was a quiet night but there were still a dozen people in the bar. ‘It’s not the time or place. I was hoping to talk to you once you’d closed. Or...some other time when you’re free.’

He didn’t want to be alone with her. He folded his arms. His right foot started to tap. ‘Can’t you just tell me now?’

She stopped jiggling her straw to fix him with a glare. ‘No. You deserve more respect than that. And so do I.’

Her gaze slid away. Again. She had a lock of hair that always fell forward onto her face. She’d push it back behind her ear, but it would always work its way free again. Majed held his breath and waited... He didn’t release it until it had fallen forward to brush across her cheek. That silly, defiant, joyful lock of hair could always make him smile.

Stop it!

He continued to gaze at her. She didn’t look like other women. At least, not to him. Which made no sense at all because, of course, she looked like a woman. And while she wasn’t stunningly beautiful, she drew his gaze again and again. He found her...lovely.

Her hair was neither gold nor brown, her skin was neither fair nor olive, and it had taken him a while before he’d realised her eyes were a clear brilliant blue, but once he had he couldn’t forget them. Her features were regular, though some might claim her mouth was too wide, but nothing about Sarah immediately stood out. Not physically. Except... She exuded warmth, as if she housed her own internal sun, and everything about her made his fingers ache to reach out and touch her. He had to fight the urge now, and the effort made his muscles burn.

But... There was something in the set of her shoulders.

It hit him then, why she was here, and his hands slammed to his hips. Her eyes caught the movement...followed it... The pink of her tongue snaked out to moisten her full bottom lip and he went hot all over. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ve lost another job.’

His rasped accusation had her gaze spearing back to his but the heat continued to circle in his blood. Her cheeks went pink but, whether at the accuracy of his accusation or the fact he’d caught her staring, he didn’t know.

‘Well, yes.’ One shoulder lifted. ‘But that’s not what I came to talk about either.’

No?

She stared down her nose at him. ‘Mike told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he? He told you to give me a job if I needed one.’

He had, but Majed had no intention of admitting as much.

‘Don’t worry, Majed, I haven’t come to beg you for a job.’

He gave thanks for that mercy. If he had to work with her day in and day out, he didn’t know how he’d manage to keep from touching her.

‘Mike asked me to look out for you too, you know?’

He jerked upright. ‘I don’t need looking out for.’

A smile hovered at the corners of her lips. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You’re an island unto yourself.’

That was exactly what he had to become if he was to ever return to Keddah Jaleel, and the fact she found the idea so nonsensical irked him. Sarah was more than happy to tell anyone who’d listen that she was a complete flake, but she had a perspicacity that was remarkable in its accuracy.

‘I don’t need looking after either, despite appearances to the contrary. I might be a flake...’

There she went, putting herself down.

‘But I’m an independent flake.’

‘I don’t consider you a flake at all.’

She gave a short laugh. ‘I’m going to ask you to hold that thought in the forefront of your mind when we have our conversation.’

What on earth had she come here to discuss?

He stiffened. Was she leaving Melbourne? Had he somehow left her feeling that she had to leave?

Damn it all to hell!

He strode into the middle of the room and clapped his hands together. ‘Excuse me, everyone, but something has come up and I need to close early. Can I ask you all to finish your drinks and leave?’

When he’d locked the door behind the last customer he spun to face Sarah. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

She stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her trousers. ‘I think you should come and take a seat and—’

‘Stop fudging! Don’t delay any longer, Sarah. Out with it.’

‘Fine!’ She folded her arms and stuck out a hip. She swallowed but lifted her chin. ‘I’m pregnant.’

For a moment her words made no sense. He even momentarily revelled in the relief that she wasn’t planning to leave Melbourne. ‘You’re—’ he rubbed his nape ‘—pregnant?’

She nodded. ‘That’s right.’

‘And...?’

She flopped down to her stool. She lifted her arms and then let them drop back into her lap. Her mouth trembled and her eyes were full of fear, sadness, tears and, strangely, some laughter. Her eyes contained the entire world. ‘And the baby is yours, Majed.’


CHAPTER TWO (#u077809bc-995d-5be0-a70a-971026146358)

THE SHOCK OF brandy hitting the back of his throat had Majed jolting back to himself. It was only then he realised Sarah had pushed him into a chair, had poured him a snifter of brandy and was urging him to drink it.

He did what she demanded because he was at a loss to know what else to do. She was having his child!

‘I know it’s a shock.’ Sarah moved to the chair opposite. ‘And I didn’t mean to blurt it out quite so baldly.’

But he’d ordered her to.

Heat scored through him, followed by a wave of ice. He stared at her. Was she okay? It didn’t matter what kind of shock he might be experiencing, it had to be far worse for her. Physically he was exactly the same as he’d been before she’d told him the news. But, regardless of what decision she made, Sarah would never be the same again. He had to focus on what she needed from him—and do his best to provide it.

She was pregnant with his child!

He opened his mouth but before he could speak she said, ‘I understand your reservations concerning the baby’s paternity.’

She thought his silence indicated that he didn’t believe her?

She’d lied about instigating the break-up with Superior Sebastian.

She wouldn’t lie about something as big as this.

‘Sarah—’

‘Please, just let me explain. It’s taken me this long to screw up my courage and now that I’ve started I’d... I’d rather just keep going.’

He gave a terse nod, hating the thought that she’d been afraid to tell him her news.

‘So, the thing is...’ She drew a loop of circles in the condensation of her glass. ‘Sebastian had mumps when he was fifteen, which means the likelihood of him being able to father children is pretty slim. But, besides that—’

She broke off to stare at her hands. He reached out and wrapped one of his hands around both of hers. She had such small hands, and every protective instinct he had surged to the fore. ‘Don’t be frightened of me, Sarah. I’m not angry. Just stunned.’ He made his voice as gentle as he could. ‘I want to help in any way I can.’

Her lips trembled. ‘That’s lovely of you.’

‘You’ve had a lot to bear on your own. I want you to know you’re not alone now.’ She was having his child! He forced himself to swallow. ‘What were you saying about Sebastian?’

‘Oh.’ Her lips twisted. ‘Before we broke up...for the two months before we broke up... Sebastian and I...’

‘Yes?’

She disengaged her hand from his to rub her nape. ‘We hadn’t been intimate.’

He’d always known the man had rocks in his head. This simply confirmed it.

‘I don’t doubt your word.’

The little moue she made informed him she didn’t entirely believe him. ‘We’ll have a paternity test done to put your mind at rest. If I decide to keep the baby.’

If. His heart clenched at the word, though he wasn’t sure why. A child was the last thing he’d expected at this point in his life. It should be the last thing he wanted.

But the ultimate decision rested with Sarah. It was her body and he’d support her whatever she decided to do.

‘Are you and the baby healthy?’

‘The doctor says so.’

‘You’ve been to see a doctor? That’s good.’

She frowned. ‘You’re taking this very calmly.’

Inside he was a mass of conflicting emotions but he refused to reveal them. ‘We’re in this together. I want you to know you’re not alone. Between us we’ll sort it out.’

Her mouth opened but no words emerged.

‘Have you eaten this evening?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I haven’t had much of an appetite.’

He rose and took her hand. ‘Come, I’ll make you an omelette.’

He switched off the lights to the bar and led her upstairs to the flat above.

‘You can cook?’ she asked when he’d seated her at the breakfast bar of his open-plan kitchen-dining-living room.

‘I make omelettes that are out of this world.’

She glanced around and he wondered what she made of his bachelor pad. ‘An omelette sounds kinda nice.’

It wasn’t until Majed pulled the eggs from the fridge that he remembered pregnant women were supposed to avoid certain foods. What about eggs? He swung back. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’

He sped into the bathroom and pulled his phone from his pocket to open his web browser. He typed in his query and then read down the list of foods that pregnant women shouldn’t eat. Right—the eggs shouldn’t be runny. Okay, he’d cook the omelette a little longer than usual... Actually, he might cook it a lot longer than usual, just to be on the safe side. Hard cheeses like cheddar were fine too. Right. He snapped his phone shut. He’d keep it simple with a plain cheese omelette. Well cooked.

* * *

Sarah tried to find some trace of Majed in his flat—in his furniture and in the décor—but... Well, it was all very comfortable and commendably tidy, but something was missing, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

‘What do you think of the place?’

She glanced around from the window that overlooked the busy inner-city Melbourne street to find Majed surveying her from the doorway. And just like that her heart started to jackhammer. ‘It’s nice.’ She ignored his raised eyebrow to add, ‘I’ve always been curious to see up here.’

He stared at her for a bit longer. ‘The bathroom is just down the hall on the left.’ He pointed back behind him. ‘And the bedroom is at the end of the hall. Feel free to take a look.’

‘Oh, no, I’m all good.’ She couldn’t invade his privacy that much.

She slid onto her stool again when he started clattering pots and pans and whisking eggs. She knew they were skirting around the main topic of conversation but...dear Lord...the shock on his face when he’d finally realised what she’d been trying to tell him. It made her stomach churn just remembering it. She wanted to give him a chance to get a little more used to the idea before they launched into a discussion about what they would do.

Frankly, she had no idea what that might be.

He moved with easy grace in his compact kitchen and it was no hardship to watch him rather than make small talk...or think. He started to slide her omelette onto a plate, and then jerked, as if he’d burned himself. His gaze speared hers before he seemed to recall himself and finished serving her food.

She stared at the plate he pushed in front of her and had to fight a frown. This did not look like an out-of-this-world omelette—it looked flat and rubbery. And brown. Her stomach gave a sick little squeeze but she gamely forked in a mouthful. He had gone to all the trouble of making it for her.

His hands went to his hips as he watched her eat. It only made her stomach churn harder. She set her fork down. ‘What?’

‘Did you lose your job because you’re pregnant? They cannot fire you for being pregnant.’

She picked up her fork again. ‘True. But apparently they can fire me for calling the manager a weasel of a bully who’s nothing more than a boil on the backside of the universe that’s in dire need of lancing.’

He choked. ‘You didn’t?’

‘I did. And I can’t begin to tell you how utterly satisfying it was.’ But now she had no job. And she had a baby on the way. Could her timing have been any worse? Talk about irresponsible!

She blew out a breath. She was such a screw-up.

Just ask Sebastian.

Just ask her mother!

‘Eat your omelette,’ Majed ordered.

She didn’t know if it was her self-recriminations, or if the eggs hadn’t agreed with her, but she only just made it to the bathroom before losing the contents of her stomach. Majed held her hair back from her face while she was sick. He pressed a cool, damp cloth to her forehead, and through it all she wished she felt well enough to feel even a modicum of embarrassment.

Eventually she closed the lid of the toilet and sat on top of it. The concern in Majed’s face caught at her. She tried to find a smile. ‘Did you know that morning sickness is a misnomer? Apparently it can happen at any time of the day.’

‘It’s...wrong!’

‘It’s certainly unpleasant.’ But her legs finally felt steady enough to hold her so she rose and rinsed out her mouth. ‘Majed, I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’m feeling beat and—’

The rest of her words stuttered to a halt when he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. ‘You need to rest, habibi. It’s been a difficult day for you. Sharing with me your news has been nerve-racking, yes? We have time yet to talk and make decisions.’ As he spoke, he carried her down the short hallway to his bedroom. Very gently, he lowered her to the bed. She had an impression of vast luxury and comfort and had to bite her lip to prevent a sigh of pure bliss escaping as softness enveloped her.

‘I shouldn’t—’

‘Of course you should.’ He pulled off her shoes.

‘Maybe just a little rest,’ she murmured as he pulled the covers over her.

‘Rest for as long as you like,’ he murmured back.

‘Majed?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did that word mean—“habibi”?’

‘It’s a term of endearment...like “sweetheart”.’

A sigh fluttered out of her. She suspected it would be rather lovely to be his sweetheart for real.

* * *

Sarah woke as the first fingers of dawn filtered through the curtains of Majed’s bedroom windows. She lay still and listened intently but couldn’t sense any signs of movement throughout the rest of the flat. Very quietly, she pushed back the bedclothes and tiptoed into the living room to find Majed sprawled across the sofa that barely contained his bulk, fast asleep.

Most people when they slept looked unguarded, younger...vulnerable. Not Majed. If anything he looked slightly forbidding and stern. It suddenly struck her that the easy-going façade he assumed every day at the bar might be exactly that—a front.

Or maybe your news has given him unpleasant dreams.

She scratched her hands through her hair. How long had he sat up last night, churning over her news? She’d had a few extra days to get used to the idea. Yesterday evening her sleepless nights had finally caught up with her. She felt rested and well now, though, and she didn’t have the heart to wake him.

A shiver shook through her. When she got right down to it, how well did she know Majed? Barely at all. She had no idea if he wanted a child. She gripped her hands together. For all she knew, he might welcome a child with unbridled enthusiasm. Or the idea of fatherhood might be a total anathema to him. Surely one should know these things about a man before becoming pregnant by him?

Your mother didn’t.

Perhaps not, but she didn’t intend to take her parents as role models. They’d spent her entire childhood using her as a pawn in their war to score points off each other. That was the only thing she was certain of—that she wouldn’t do that to any child of hers. If she had this baby she’d do her best to ensure its childhood was happy and carefree—not a battleground.

If.

Slipping onto a chair at the dining table, she lifted her feet to the seat and hugged her knees. She and Majed had to decide what to do about this baby and she had no idea where to start.

A pen and notepad rested in the middle of the table. She pulled them towards her with the thought of writing a list of pros and cons. She’d start with the cons, because there were so many: the pregnancy was unplanned, she was unemployed, so how would she support not just herself but a baby as well? Her mother would have a fit and there’d be no end to the recriminations. Her father would take the opposite stance and think an unplanned pregnancy was an inspired idea. She was only twenty-six—there was plenty of time yet before she needed to start thinking about having children. She was a total screw-up and surely a child deserved better than that for a parent?

There’d be more cons—lots more—but the length of the list had started to dishearten her. She needed something in the pros column to balance it out...just a little bit.

She stared at the page and bit her lip. There had to be one reason to keep this baby. A solid logical reason that made perfect sense. Her throat ached. The page in front of her blurred. She reached out and wrote a single sentence:

I love this baby already.

She stared at the words she’d just written and blinked hard. She did love this baby, but was it enough? A child deserved a better home than Sarah could give it. But, no matter how much she might wish to, she couldn’t draw a line through that single entry on her ‘pros’ list.

Perhaps she should try a different tack and list all of the options available to her instead. Biting back a sigh, she turned the page...only to find that Majed had made a list of his own. Her heart started to pound. Would it be an invasion of privacy to read his list?

Invasion or not, she had no hope of stopping herself.

At the top of the page in bald, ugly print he’d written a single word: abortion.

She couldn’t stop herself from flinching, even though it had been the first option that had occurred to her too. Even though it was an option she was still considering.

Beneath that he’d written: adoption. She swallowed. Did she have the strength for that? If she loved this baby then wouldn’t she want the very best for it? Wouldn’t she fight to give it the very best, regardless of the cost to her personally?

She froze when she realised that was exactly what she’d do. She loved this baby. All she had to work out now was what would be in the baby’s best interests.

She pulled Majed’s list back towards her. Two hard, dark lines separated those first two items from the rest of his list. Pulling in a breath, she read on...

* * *

Majed watched Sarah’s eyes widen as she read down the list he’d made. He knew when she’d reached the end of the list because it wasn’t possible for her eyes to go any wider.

She glanced across at him and saw him watching her. Something arced in the air between them before she gave him a brave little smile that cracked open something in his chest and started up an ache that he feared would never go away.

He couldn’t afford to fall in love with this woman. He couldn’t afford to fall in love with anyone. Love clouded one’s judgement. And when one’s judgement was clouded it put the people one cared about at risk.

He couldn’t fall in love with Sarah, but he could look after her.

‘Good morning,’ she whispered.

Her voice emerged on a rasp, as if her throat was dry, and he threw off his blanket, rose and strode to the kitchen. ‘Let me get you something hot to drink. You should’ve helped yourself.’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’

He came back with glasses of apple juice and steaming mugs of herbal tea. His body cried out for strong black coffee but, if Sarah was avoiding caffeine the way most pregnant women he knew did, then it would be cruel to drink it in front of her.

He nodded at his list. ‘I tried to cover every possible option I could think of. Are there any you’ve thought of that I’ve missed?’

She shook her head and sipped her tea. He watched carefully for any signs of nausea but she merely closed her eyes and inhaled the steam as if welcoming the warmth into her body. Her clothes looked rumpled from having been slept in, and she had bed hair, but beneath all of that a vitality and vibrancy that had been lacking yesterday had started to emerge.

‘You’ve thought of things that hadn’t occurred to me.’ She pointed to the very last item on the list. ‘That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?’

He shrugged but his gut tightened. ‘My purpose was to list every option I could think of, without making value judgements.’

He’d spent a lot of time in the West. Four years in the UK at Oxford University with trips to the USA in the summer breaks. For the last four years, he’d worked in Australia. But he’d grown up in Keddah Jaleel—a world of ancient tradition, arranged marriages and duty. He knew exactly what his family would expect of him in this situation.

He had no intention of forcing those expectations onto Sarah but...

‘I want you to know that whichever one of those options you settle on, whichever you deem is in your and the baby’s best interests, I’ll support you one-hundred percent.’ He didn’t want her to doubt that for a moment.

She set her mug down, a deep furrow marring her brow.

‘What?’

‘Your happiness is just as important as mine.’

He didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t say that out loud, though. It was a sentiment that would horrify her. He nodded at the list. ‘None of those options make me unhappy.’

Her raised eyebrow told him she didn’t believe him. She pointed towards the top of the list. ‘This line here is rather dark. It looks angry. Does that mean you hate the idea of abortion and adoption?’

He tried to keep his face unreadable. ‘I’ve no ethical objection to either. It’s just...’ He reached out and wrapped her hand in his. ‘It’s just, I don’t dare care for the life growing inside you if those are the routes you’re considering.’

She stared at him with such intensity his mouth went dry. The pulse at the base of her throat pounded and he could feel an answering throb start up at the centre of him.

‘You care about this baby?’

The question was raw, Sarah’s voice full of heartbreak and hope, and he didn’t know which one would win out.

He nodded. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that if Sarah had this child—if—he would love it with everything that was inside him.

Then tell her that. You need to give her more.

But he didn’t want to pressure her one way or the other.

She winced. ‘Majed?’

He realised he was all but crushing her hand. He loosened his grip immediately and massaged her hand gently before releasing it. ‘Last night I found myself getting excited about the prospect of a baby.’ A grandchild for his parents—what a gift! ‘I know this is completely unexpected. Not in a million years would I have thought... I mean, we were careful.’

‘We were. This is so...unplanned.’

‘But it doesn’t follow that it’s not a blessing.’

She went still and he chose his next words with care. ‘I had to rein in my excitement last night because you deciding not to go ahead with the pregnancy is a valid choice, and an understandable one.’

She sat back and massaged her temples. The conflict he saw mirrored in her face tore at him. Without a word, she reached out and turned over the first page of the notepad. She’d written a list of pros and cons. Only one item was listed under the ‘pros’ heading. He read it and something fierce gripped his gut. He didn’t bother reading her long list of cons. He seized her hand again. ‘If you love this baby, Sarah, then you must keep it.’

Her gaze dropped from his. Her hand trembled. She pulled it free and reached for her tea. ‘This baby deserves more than I can give it.’

‘We’re in this together. I’ll help you financially. Between us—’ He broke off, his heart thundering in his chest. ‘You won’t deny me access to the child...will you?’

Her mug clattered back to the table. ‘Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it—not if you want to be a part of the baby’s life.’

‘I want that very much.’ He wanted them to be very clear on that point.

‘But, Majed, I’m not talking about the financial arrangements here. I have—’ she rolled her eyes ‘—marketable skills. I don’t doubt my ability to get another job.’

It would be so much harder with a baby, though. And they both knew it.

It took a beat longer for what she wasn’t saying to hit him. He wanted to take her hand again, to offer her silent support, but she had both hands wrapped tightly around her mug. His heart continued to pound. ‘Then tell me what you’re really afraid of.’

She lifted her gaze and the shadows in her eyes made his stomach clench. ‘I think we need to be completely honest with each other from this point forward, if we’re going to have a baby together. Don’t you?’

There was so much she didn’t know about him. And she’d need to know. He resisted the urge to lower his forehead to the table. ‘I agree.’

‘I need to be honest with you, even if it means you come to despise me.’

For good or ill, his opinion mattered to her. It was why she’d let him think she’d broken up with Superior Sebastian rather than the other way round. He couldn’t let her down now. Gently, he reached out to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. ‘I could never despise you. The idea is unthinkable.’

She took his hand and squeezed it before releasing it with a smile. ‘That was the right thing to say.’

Everything inside him sharpened. He sat back with folded arms, his hand still warm from where he’d touched her. ‘Now, if I can only get you to believe it. Come, tell me what you’re afraid of.’

She swallowed and her throat bobbed. ‘Majed, there’s a hole inside me—as if there’s something essential that I’m missing. And I try to fill it up with things—like my relationship with Sebastian, a relationship I knew wasn’t good for me—in an effort to distract myself from that sense of lacking something. It’s why I bounce from job to job. Once I start to feel settled in a job, the emptiness starts gnawing away at me. And...and I have to create upheaval to keep it at bay.’

He stared at her. ‘Is that why you invited me back to your apartment that night?’

‘No, that was something I wanted to do. I was feeling jubilant and happy and it felt right.’ She met his gaze. ‘The night I spent with you, I wasn’t thinking about filling up any kind of shortfall or lack inside me. I wasn’t trying to distract myself. I’m not sure I was thinking at all. I acted on impulse, yes, but on instinct too.’ Her frown deepened. ‘I felt as if I was living—as if I were properly alive. It was...exhilarating.’

It merely meant she hadn’t had time to become bored with him yet. ‘And you’re afraid that a baby won’t be a big enough distraction? You think you’ll find yourself becoming bored with the baby, the way you do with your jobs?’

Shocked eyes met his. ‘That’s not what I mean at all. No. I’m afraid that I’ll make the baby the very centre of my life—that I’ll use it to fill all those empty places inside me. That’d be wrong. It wouldn’t be fair to put that kind of pressure on a child. I have a feeling it would be shockingly unfair.’

Her honesty stunned him.

The care she was already taking for her child humbled him.

He had empty places inside him too, but he knew exactly what had caused them—the guilt and responsibility he bore over his brother’s death. How did he mean to protect a child from those?

‘You sense it in me too, don’t you?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You don’t appear to me as if some essential part of you is missing. You don’t strike me as lonely, or even as if you’re afraid of loneliness.’ She had a wide network of friends. He’d seen her with them in the bar. From the outside, Sarah’s life seemed full. ‘Before Sebastian, you were nearly a year without a boyfriend, yes? You don’t strike me as a person who needs to constantly be in a romantic relationship to feel whole.’

‘The emptiness has nothing to do with romance or loneliness. If it did, I’d be able to fill it.’

‘What does it have to do with, then?’

She shrugged but her gaze slid away. Instinct told him not to push. ‘Sarah, you don’t strike me as someone who is lacking. You strike me as someone who is searching.’

She swung back to gaze at him. ‘Searching for what?’

‘I expect you’re the only person who can answer that.’ Though he’d do anything he could to help her find the answer.

She scrubbed her hands down her face. ‘I don’t want my...lack...to hurt the baby.’

‘If we’re both aware of it as a potential problem then we can remain on our guards against it—cut it off at the pass, so to speak.’

She bit her lip but it didn’t hide the hope that flared briefly in her eyes. ‘You make it sound easy.’

‘I don’t think it’ll be easy. I think raising a child must be the most challenging thing a person can ever do in this life. I think it must also be one of the most rewarding.’

She sagged back in her chair. ‘You make me believe that I could do it.’

She could do it! And how much he wanted to do it too—with her—should scare him. Instead, it elated him.

She pointed at his list. ‘Which of these options is the most attractive to you?’

His heart thundered so loud it was all he could do to hear his thoughts over it.

She tapped a finger to the notepad. ‘Do you have a...for the lack of a better term...favourite here?’

‘Yes.’ She’d just been completely honest with him. She deserved the same in return.

‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘Hit me with it.’

‘You want the truth? Right now?’

She moistened her lips. ‘What are you afraid of?’

‘Terrifying you.’

After a beat, she started to laugh. ‘Being pregnant terrifies me. Wondering whether I’ll be a good mother or not terrifies me. But, Majed, you don’t terrify me.’

Without another word, he pointed to the last item on the list. ‘This is my preference.’

Her quick intake of breath told him she hadn’t expected that.

‘You want us to marry?’ she whispered. ‘You want to marry me and take me and the baby to live in Keddah Jaleel with you?’

‘Yes.’ The word croaked out of him. ‘Have I terrified you?’

‘Umm...no.’

He didn’t believe her. But nevertheless it was time to tell her the truth. ‘Sarah, there’s something you need to know about me. My father is the ruling Sheikh of Keddah Jaleel...and I’m his heir.’

Her face remained blank for a disconcertingly long time before she straightened. ‘You...you mean that you’re...like a king?’

‘My father is the king.’

‘But you’ll be king one day?’

Acid burned the back of his throat. ‘Yes.’ Maybe.

‘And if we marry, and our child is a boy, he’ll one day be king too?’

He had to force his answer out. ‘Yes.’

She folded her arms tightly in front of her. ‘Okay, you can now colour me terrified.’


CHAPTER THREE (#u077809bc-995d-5be0-a70a-971026146358)

SARAH WASN’T SURE at what point she stopped listening. Majed’s rich tones continued to wash over her but her mind whirled in a million different directions. He was the son of a king. He was a prince! And then one of his statements cut through all her confusion, crystallising into an overarching and urgent question.

‘Whoa, wait!’ She held up a hand. ‘You were sent away from Keddah Jaleel for your own safety? Because of border infractions and rebel activity?’

He dragged a hand down his face and she hated how grey he’d gone. ‘Majed?’

‘Yes.’

‘And yet this is a place you want to take me? You’re prepared to put your unborn child in danger?’

‘No!’ His head shot up and his eyes flashed. ‘I would never knowingly place you or our child in danger. The skirmishes were minor and quickly smothered, the perpetrators dealt with. It wasn’t necessary that I leave, but it put my parents’ minds at rest.’

Her heart thumped so hard she swore it would leave bruises. ‘Then why have you stayed away from your homeland for the last four years?’

He shot out of his seat to stalk across the room. ‘That is not something which I wish to discuss. You have my word of honour, though, that is has nothing to do with fearing for my safety.’

He wanted her to take his word for it? Maybe, if it were only her life at stake here, she would. But it wasn’t. She had a baby to consider. She could no longer afford to be reckless or irresponsible.

Rising, she ran her hands over her blouse in a vain effort to smooth out the wrinkles. ‘I think it’s time I went home.’

Her apartment—Mike’s apartment—was only a couple of blocks away. A walk in the early-morning air might help.

Or not. Probably not. But it wouldn’t hurt.

His nostrils flared. ‘You’ll consider my proposal?’

‘No.’

Not a single muscle moved and yet he seemed to sag. ‘You think the idea too outrageous?’

It was utterly preposterous, yet it wasn’t outrage that gripped her. ‘I’m not going anywhere near Keddah Jaleel when I’ve no idea why you’ve stayed away so long. I know no one there. You’d be my only friend and support, and if I can’t trust you...’

Her stomach churned. ‘I am not putting myself in that position, Majed. My mother taught me better than that.’

He swung away to pace the length of the room before swinging back to face her. Agitation—anger, perhaps?—crackled from him like a force field. ‘An Internet search will provide you with everything you need to know.’

She located her purse and slung it over her shoulder as she made for the door. ‘Goodbye, Majed.’

‘That is not enough for you?’

She swung back. ‘I’m surprised you even need to ask that question. We’re going to have a baby and yet you can’t be honest with me.’ Her hands clenched. ‘If you can’t see the problem with that, then I’m not going to try and explain it to you.’

His nostrils flared. His chest rose and fell. And for a moment he looked so forbidding, her mouth went dry. He’d never hurt her, she knew that, but she could suddenly see the legacy of his heritage—the fierce and fearless warriors who’d fought and won innumerable wars on the ancient sands of Keddah Jaleel. Their blood flowed in his veins and, beneath his veneer of polish, that same fierceness resided in Majed’s DNA.

‘You’re going to do it. You’re going to keep the baby.’

His words were more statement than question. He smiled and she felt as if she were falling. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, realising that she’d come to a decision in spite of herself. Her heart beat hard. She and Majed would be tied to each other always through this child. And, regardless of what happened between them, the thought of the baby could still make him smile. And that mattered.

She rubbed a hand across her chest, trying to dislodge the ache attempting to settle beneath her breastbone. ‘I...’ She pulled herself up to her full height. ‘Yes, I am. I’m going to have this baby.’ If nothing else, this morning had made that crystal clear to her.

And that was something to be grateful for.

He strode towards her, and for a moment she thought he meant to hug her, but he stopped short and she saw shadows gathering in his eyes, ousting the excitement and tenderness that had momentarily lit them.

He dragged both hands through his hair. ‘Four years ago my brother was killed by the rebels.’

The floor bucked beneath her feet. Sarah braced herself against the door, pressing her spine back until the hard wood bit into her.

‘He’d organised a secret assignation with a woman who couldn’t be trusted. It was a reckless and foolish thing to do and he paid heavily for it. Too heavily.’

The anguish in his eyes tore at her. ‘Oh, Majed.’ She reached a hand towards him but he flinched.

‘I loved my brother, Sarah. I’ve not returned to Keddah Jaleel because I cannot imagine living in my homeland without him.’

She wanted to hug him but everything in his posture forbade it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

He nodded, but all she could see in his face was pain and anger. Her stomach churned in a sickening slow roll. Oh, no you don’t. This was not the time to throw up. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back and concentrated on her breathing.

‘Come, Sarah.’

Her eyes sprang open at the touch of warm fingers against her arm.

‘Come take a seat on the sofa.’

She couldn’t fight the nausea and talk at the same time so she let him lead her across to the plump comfort of the sofa. Once seated, she shoved her head between her knees, murmuring, ‘I’ll be right as rain in a moment.’

When she was finally sure she’d mastered the nausea, she lifted her head. ‘I’m sorry about that. I—’

‘I shouldn’t have told you in such a way!’

‘I’m glad you did tell me.’

‘Has it made you more afraid to journey to Keddah Jaleel?’

‘Not more afraid, just sadder.’ And to her surprise she realised she spoke the truth. ‘Your brother...’

‘Ahmed.’

She swallowed. ‘Did Ahmed not follow proper security protocols? I assume you have security measures in place?’

He nodded. ‘It’s necessary for any ruling family. But that night Ahmed gave his bodyguard the slip.’

Nobody deserved to pay such a high price for wanting a single night of freedom.

‘Why did they kill him?’ she whispered. ‘What did they hope to achieve?’

‘My father is a progressive monarch. At some future point, he’d dearly love to introduce democracy to Keddah Jaleel. There are still those in my country, however, who cling to the old ways.’

‘Progressive? Is he working towards gender equality? Will, for example, the daughters of the ruling sheikh ever be allowed to rule?’

For the first time that morning, he smiled—really smiled. ‘Ah, Sarah, we’re progressive...and we’ll continue to work towards a fair and just world for all of our citizens...but change cannot always be introduced as quickly we would like.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Progress takes time. And we must be seen to respect the traditions of our people, even as we move beyond them. If they believe us to view our heritage as worthless, then we would lose their trust and loyalty. If our child is a daughter, and if she shows an interest in politics, then she’ll have some kind of leadership role.’

‘But she won’t be ruler?’

‘I cannot see that happening for the next generation, no. But, if we have a granddaughter, things may be different for her.’

She stared at him and her heart thumped. What a difficult task it must be to lead a country. This man was a prince—one day a ruler by birthright. She had no right telling him what he should and shouldn’t do politically, not when she had no notion of what his people held dear, what they valued and what they hoped for.

She swallowed. ‘Your family have paid a heavy price for their service to your country, Majed. I’m more sorry than I can say about the loss of your brother.’

This time when she reached out to touch his hand he didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned his palm upwards and laced his fingers though hers. The scent of amber and spices—cloves and cardamom—teased her senses as a thick, pregnant silence wrapped about them. It was all she could do not to chafe the gooseflesh that rose on her arms.

‘There is one other thing you need to know.’

His tone lifted the tiny hairs at her nape.

‘Ahmed was my older brother.’

‘Do you have any other siblings?’

He shook his head and that was when she realised what he was trying to tell her. ‘Oh!’ Her heart started to thump. ‘You... Ahmed was supposed to ascend to the throne, not you?’

‘Not me,’ he agreed.

Wow! Okay. ‘And...and that’s another reason you haven’t wanted to return?’

‘Yes.’

And yet he was prepared to face his demons because he had a baby on the way—because he wanted to be a good father. ‘I think you’ll make a fine ruler, Majed. I know you must miss Ahmed, but you haven’t usurped him.’

‘I know that in my head. But it’s not the way it feels in my heart.’

‘What would Ahmed tell you to do?’

He spoke a phrase in Arabic that she didn’t understand. But then he laughed and he suddenly looked younger. ‘He’d tell me to stop over-thinking things. He’d tell me I need to curb my impatience for change and to tread with respect in relation to the traditional ways.’ A sigh shuddered from him. ‘He’d tell me to take my place at my father’s side. He’d want me to fight for it.’

Fight for it...?

She wasn’t sure what that last bit meant but, as she stared into his face, she couldn’t agree more with Ahmed’s advice. Majed was destined for great things. It was time for him to embrace his destiny.

‘Will you come to Keddah Jaleel with me, Sarah? Will you at least come and see the life you could have there, the life I can give you and our child?’

‘What will your parents think about a baby?’

‘It will...’ The lines about his mouth deepened. ‘It will bring them joy.’

She had a feeling that there were family issues at play here that she had no hope of understanding.

‘Our unmarried status will not thrill them. It will...disappoint them. But if you find you like Keddah Jaleel then maybe you will stay.’

‘And marry you?’

‘That is my wish.’

‘And what kind of marriage do you think we can have?’

‘One based on respect and honesty. One based on friendship.’

She pulled in a breath. ‘What about love?’

He dragged his hand from hers. She immediately missed the warmth and connection. He pushed that hand back through his hair once...twice. ‘We said we would be honest, yes?’

She couldn’t speak. She could only nod. He was going to tell her that he could never love her...and she didn’t know why, but she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear him say it.

‘I do not believe in love.’

She blinked.

‘And if I did, I’d not want it in my life.’

What on earth...? So it wasn’t that he couldn’t love her in particular. It was that he wouldn’t love any woman at all.

‘Love—romantic love—leads people to do wild and foolish things. It clouds their judgement. I want no part of that.’

Her mouth went dry. He was talking about Ahmed and the woman who had entranced him so completely that he’d thrown caution to the wind.

Oh, Majed.

‘I can sincerely assure you, however, that I believe my happiness in marriage with you has a better chance than with anyone else I know. I like you, Sarah, and that has to count for something.’

He said that now. But what would happen when he met a woman who stirred his blood? How much would he resent the ties that bound him then—and the woman and child responsible for those ties? Would he become like her father? Would she become like her mother?

She couldn’t let that happen.

She moistened parched lips. ‘Do you believe in fidelity?’

His eyes flashed. ‘I do.’ He took her chin in a firm grip and forced her gaze to his. ‘I can assure you that, if you marry me, you will not think of other men.’

And then his lips slammed to hers with a force that was far from polite and more demanding than any kiss she’d ever experienced. One hand slid to her nape to prevent her from drawing away, while the other remained at her jaw, holding her still while he plundered her lips with a ruthless and seductive intent that had her melting even as she wanted to resist. The relentless, primal possession continued, sending the blood stampeding through her veins while the strength leached from her muscles until it finally tore his name from her throat.

He lifted his head, his eyes glittering. ‘Are we clear on this point?’

She lifted fingers that trembled to swollen lips. That kiss had been an outrageous attempt at domination, yet she wanted him to kiss her like that again...and not stop.

‘I’m clear on the fact that you expect fidelity from me. Do you demand it of yourself?’

‘Naturally.’ His chin tilted at an arrogant angle. ‘But then, I expect my future wife to make sure my mind does not stray to other women.’

She tossed her head, dislodging his grip, thrilled and appalled in equal measure. But before she could give him the put down she was sure he deserved, his lips were on hers again—warm, gentle...playful. They teased and tantalised until her anger had dissolved and she threaded her fingers through his hair to pull him closer.

He obliged until she lay half-sprawled beneath him, their only barrier the thin material of their clothes, his kisses sending something inside her spiralling free. She wanted all barriers between them gone. She wanted to move to the dance he’d taught her six weeks ago. She craved the spiralling pleasure, the adventure of it all, and the peace that followed. She ached...

A whimper broke from her when he lifted his head. He muttered words she didn’t understand but could translate all too easily.

There’d be no more kisses today.

He lifted himself away from her and then helped her back into a sitting position with a gentleness that had the backs of her eyes burning.

‘I’m sorry.’

He physically removed himself from the sofa, his words emerging clipped and short. If she hadn’t heard the regret threading through them, she might’ve fled in mortification.

‘I’m only sorry you stopped.’ She’d aimed for levity but fell far short of the desired mark. It was the truth of her words that rang in the space between them rather than humour. What the heck, she’d made a fool of herself over lesser things. ‘Why did you stop?’




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