Sarah And The Secret Sheikh

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.’