Sheikh's Accidental Baby

by Ella Brooke

  “I don’t know about that.” Caitlyn leaned back against the car and smoothed her hand over side of the hood. “I’ve seen plenty of pictures of fairly famous and sinfully rich actors who dress like they just rolled out of a dumpster.”

  “It’s not my brand, Cait.” Emrys gestured one hand in the air. “I’m ‘quality.’”

  “I don’t think that’s what your brand speaks to.” Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in amusement and shook her head. “I think it’s ‘naked.’”

  Emrys’s brow furrowed in anger, just for a moment, but then he laughed low and deep in his throat.

  “Maybe it is.” He came to her side and put his hand beside hers on the car. “You like this car, do you?”

  “I’m just attracted to shiny pieces of equipment. You should see me in an Apple store.”

  “Is that so? I wondered if you continued on with your plan.”

  Caitlyn nodded and shrugged. “That’s me. Freelance web designer. I do the websites for a lot of small businesses.”

  “And that’s enough to pay your bills?”

  “More or less. There are a lot of start-up businesses right now, and while they aren’t the big accounts, I can set something usable up for them. It’s cheaper in the long run to pay me up front to design your site and take care of your branding and PR needs than to go through one of the sites that act as a middleman.”

  “Then I suppose you got your money’s worth from your college education.”

  “I make a living, and it’s kind of fun, and I get to have a life. That’s all I’m asking out of a career. I’d like to be able to continue to eat and pay rent and still be able to travel at least once a year.”

  Emrys’s hand circled around her back. She let it and looked up into his eyes.

  “It seems like you and I are both more practical than we once were,” he said, almost wistfully.

  “I don’t see that as a bad thing.” Caitlyn avoided his gaze. She’d let him go this far. She didn’t need to start getting mushy and romantic over their past. “It’s good to have both of your feet on the ground.”

  “That’s not always true,” Emrys objected.

  “When?” Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Tell me when exactly it’s good to not have your feet on the ground?”

  Emrys leaned forward and turned her face towards his with two fingers. “When you’re dancing.”

  Caitlyn lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t dance. I’ll fall.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Take it as what it is. I have two left feet. I can barely walk. I think it’s actually illegal for me to dance in 48 states.”

  “Then maybe I’ll have to take you out of the country again to get you to dance.”

  “I think I’ve done my travelling for the year.” Caitlyn looked away, smiling coyly at the bright skyline.

  “Where have you been?” Emrys moved closer.

  “Here, though it’s mostly been a working vacation so far. I live in Cincinnati, but Melinda lives here, so that was an easy trip to plan. Plus, I took a few weeks during the summer. Did a jazz crawl through Austin, then Houston, and finished up by meeting a few friends in Mexico.”

  “I see.”

  Caitlyn turned to him and looked him over. “What? Is your brand so straight-laced now that you can’t do jazz or drink tequila from the bottle?”

  “One of those things would end with an unflattering picture in the tabloids, which I do try to avoid.” Emrys draped his arm around Caitlyn’s shoulders. “But maybe you could inform me better on where to find some decent jazz.”

  Though Caitlyn was no expert—she’d only done the jazz crawl because it was featured as something to experience in the city she was traveling to—Melinda had mentioned a few places where she and Jaina tended to go on the weekends, so she pulled each up on her phone to see who would be playing, and located an address for Emrys to put into his GPS. It wasn’t a quick drive. Friday night in the city, traffic was madness.

  But Emrys brought up that time that Caitlyn had practically impaled herself on one of the stone posts that lined the sidewalks in busy traffic areas of Paris. That led to the story about the man who had tried to grab Emrys’s messenger bag and failing that, had run away, calling him “bitch” over and over again. For what had been a barely two-month affair, their memories seemed endless. By the time they reached the club, Caitlyn felt her shoulders relaxing and her heart pounding.

  The club was so dark that Caitlyn could barely see. Emrys took her arm to keep her from tripping. The band was already onstage, starting off with the blaring of a trumpet and a strong rhythmic beat beneath. The club was full, but Emrys turned to the host, and a table that had been roped off cleared quickly.

  Over the sound of the music, they couldn’t talk much. Emrys ordered them some drinks, and Caitlyn pointed to items on the menu for the waiter. Emrys didn’t seem to be terribly impressed with the band, but Caitlyn bobbed her head along as the singers finally chimed in, and she smiled brightly when Emrys looked at her.

  When they’d finished the number, Emrys leaned to her and said, “That looked suspiciously like dancing.”

  “You know that it’s not because there was no falling.”

  Emrys bumped her shoulder and held a fork of Louisiana crab cake for her to try. She’d seen him grimace at the food she’d ordered, but it was perfectly fried, perfectly Cajun. She liked it, even if he was feeling squeamish. It made her want to feed him something even more ruthlessly American.

  Something about his face was ever so much more entertaining than the band, though she did enjoy the blend of sounds. He wasn’t appreciating it as much, and she could tell that he was really getting lost when the musicians syncopated the rhythm. The sax solo in particular caused his brows to screw together in bafflement, and the look caused Caitlyn to reached over and squeeze his knee, grinning wickedly.

  “Should I have taken you to a hip hop club?”

  “No.”

  Emrys’s expression was stern, but he cracked a smile. Caitlyn smirked and held a buffalo shrimp to his lips.

  “Didn’t we used to talk about wresting everything we could out of life? Try it.”

  “Does wresting include heartburn and headaches?”

  “Yes. It absolutely does.” Caitlyn pursed her lips. She sighed at his stiff posture and knocked back the rest of her drink. “I’ll be right back.”

  Caitlyn slipped through the narrow spaces between the tables and headed into the back. She felt a bit lightheaded from the champagne and the cocktails and, in no small part, Emrys’s proximity. She had no idea if he was having a good time, but being near him now was no different than it had been then. She felt drawn to him. It was going to be next to impossible to say goodbye to him when it was finally time to go home. She probably wouldn’t see him for another five years, if ever again.

  She was washing her hands in the women’s room when someone knocked on the door.

  “Almost finished!” she called. The knock came again, and she shook her head with a bit of irritation. She spared a second to check her mascara and then went to open the door for the impatient person on the other side.

  Emrys slipped in with her and locked the door behind him.

  Chapter Four

  Caitlyn’s eyes grew impossibly round as Emrys stepped into the small space, locked the door, and pulled her flush to his chest. Emrys felt so drawn to her that it was more natural to be pressed against her than not.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” Her voice grew high and fragile.

  “Seizing the day.” He moved his lips close to her ear. “Wresting what I can from life.”

  He gave her full ass a squeeze, causing her to squeak in surprise, maybe indignation. Caitlyn looked up at him, her brows furrowed as her glasses slipped down her nose. He brushed his lips against her cheek, waiting and expecting her to put up a fight or tell him to let her go.

  Instead, she grabbed his left ass cheek.

  “There you are,” he murmured.


  “Just, uh, getting reacquainted with an old friend.” She chuckled awkwardly and pushed her glasses up.

  Emrys cupped her face in one hand, looking into her eyes. They were so vulnerable and hopeful. Caitlyn was still waiting for him; she joked and went along with their evening, but she wanted more. He could read it in every line of her body.

  Moving his hand along the back of her thigh, Emrys leaned in and met her lips with a firm, dominant kiss. He could taste the Cajun spice on her, but as hot as her lips were, she seemed to melt in his grasp, returning his kiss with soft, sweet movements. He grasped the back of her thigh, enjoying the squeak of surprise, and gradually moved his hand down until he was lifting her leg slightly in air.

  “E-Emrys,” she breathed.

  “Shh shh…” he whispered before supplying her with another kiss. Her shoulders heaved in a silent sigh. From this angle, when he moved close, the hem of her dress lifted above her panties. He couldn’t see them, but when he moved his hand back, he could feel them. Smooth and cotton, with a bit of lace around the edges.

  Caitlyn opened her lips in surprise. Emrys’s fingers traced the edge of fabric, as well as the tender skin in the crook between her pelvis and her leg. It was soft, warm. His other hand moved over her breast, massaging the handful of flesh lightly in circles. Caitlyn arched her back in anticipation while he toyed with her underthings.

  “What was that? Hm?” Emrys teased. “Do you want more? Or shall I stop?”

  “I-I…” Caitlyn panted softly, then looked up at him when he stilled his hands. “Don’t stop.”

  “As you wish.”

  Emrys moved his fingers along her sensitive lips, watching as her eyes dilated, her mouth opened helplessly in response to his deft movements. A lesser man might have demanded more of her, even so soon, but he wanted her to crave him in the way they craved one another before, desiring one another’s touch so intensely that it was difficult to get through the day without it.

  Currently, she seemed to desire his touch very much. Her hips gave a jerk against his stroking, and she bit back a moan. He spread his index and middle finger over the breadth of her lips, up and down, up and down, and watched her pleasure rise like the lapping tide. Then his finger moved under her rapidly dampening panties and slipped into the warm sheath of her.

  “Oh!” Caitlyn’s back arched sharply, and she grabbed the back of Emrys’s head and kissed him desperately, attacking his lips and sucking on his tongue as though she needed it to live.

  Her eagerness only encouraged him. He slipped in another finger and massaged his thumb over the top of her mound. Her breath drew in sharply, and her head fell back as she lost focus. He continued to kiss her cheek and neck as he brought her up, her pleasure cresting as his fingers drew her to completion.

  Her body shuddered as she let out a strangled, staccato cry. Her fingers clenched around his arm, and she moaned his name so loudly that there was no question that anyone standing out in the hallway could have any confusion about what was going on inside. She bowed her head over his shoulder and sighed, and Emrys rubbed her back.

  “There’s my girl,” he muttered.

  Caitlyn sat back on the lid of the toilet and tried to get her hair back in order. Emrys had turned to the sink to wash his hands. He was smiling a little. He seemed pleased with himself, but Caitlyn wasn’t sure how she felt about what had happened. She could hear the band starting up again. She could partially see herself in the mirror, and her cheeks were scarlet, the blood brought to the surface from a mixture of their passion and her own sense of shame.

  Conflict rose in her and stopped her breath for a moment. She simultaneously couldn’t believe her behavior tonight and wanted to do it again. She wasn’t the kind of girl to do something like this, but where Emrys was concerned, she didn’t know if she had the ability to tell him no.

  And he was so good with his hands.

  There was a loud, impatient rap on the door. Caitlyn looked up at it and rubbed her fingers over her lips. Had they heard? They had probably heard.

  “I’ll go first.” Emrys smiled back at her and opened the door.

  Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, but she knew she would go wherever he asked her to.

  For the next half hour, Emrys tolerated the jazz band’s playing, and he kept his hand on her knee, inching toward the inside of her thigh. She felt safe, and she felt owned. She knew she had to be careful, or she would fall in love with him again, in spite of everything that had happened, and her heart wouldn’t survive the loss this time when he disappeared on her.

  It wasn’t until they were walking back to the BMW that Caitlyn felt the effect of all the night’s champagne and cocktails. Her legs grew a little rubbery, and her heart was practically in her ears. Emrys kept his arm around her back as he guided her back to his car, where he twirled her around to lean against it and kissed her once more, one hand cupping her cheek, and the other possessively pressed against the small of her back.

  “I’m not taking you home,” he informed her.

  “It’s getting late,” she murmured. “Where should we go?”

  “My hotel room.”

  Caitlyn started to protest, but he kissed her again and then looked into her eyes.

  “I can’t do without you. I won’t,” Emrys insisted, his voice going deep and low and tremulous. “I lived without you once, and I don’t plan to be separated from you again so soon.”

  “You could stay in New York. I’m not going back to Cincinnati for another week.”

  “I can’t. I have to fly out in the morning. Since the PR junket for this film is over, I promised my family I would come home.” Emrys shook his head. “I must meet their expectations, if I want to continue to live freely.”

  “I don’t know what to do, then.” Caitlyn wrapped her arms around him. “If you have to go, I won’t stop you. I understand that your time isn’t always your own. I mean, between your film career and life as Cabeauian royalty…That’s a lot of obligation.”

  “Cait, I’m asking you to come with me.”

  Caitlyn felt her head spinning. “Come with you. To Cabeau? Now?”

  “No better time.” He stroked his fingers through her hair. “You haven’t been to Europe in some time, right?”

  “I— Well, no—“

  “And you said you love to travel. You’ve never been to Cabeau, and we can do day trips back to France, if you like, or any of the other surrounding countries.” Emrys’s eyes pleaded with her.

  “I can’t just run off to Europe!”

  “Why not? You won’t have to pay a cent for the trip, and your work can come with you, can’t it?”

  “Well, it can, but…” Caitlyn shook her head. This was too sudden. It was crazy. She couldn’t just decide to leave the country on a whim. There were plans to be made, paperwork to get in order. She was sure Emrys could arrange travel, but were there regulations for entering Cabeau? Would she need a visa, her passport?

  “Stop thinking,” Emrys ordered. He touched the tip of her nose. “I can see that little worry line on your forehead.”

  “Emrys, this is such a generous offer. I can’t wrap my head around it.”

  “You want to go,” Emrys said confidently.

  “I…”

  She felt the wind on her cheek and his hand on her back. She looked up at him and saw the intensity and raw want in his blue eyes. She had to tell him no, to keep herself and her heart safe.

  “I want to go,” she found herself saying.

  And she let him kiss her again.

  ***

  Caitlyn didn’t get back to Melinda’s apartment until the dawn had come and gone. She was greeted by both Marbles and Snowball, who rushed her with a chorus of demands for breakfast. She chuckled and leaned over after closing the door to give each of them a head pat and a few scratches in turn. She scanned the living room and spotted her things perched neatly on the end of the sofa where she’d left them before heading out to the premiere. She let out a sigh.r />
  First things first. She pulled out some clothes and set them aside. She would need to get cleaned up before they flew out. Then, she went to work packing up her laptop and the various associated notepads and paraphernalia she used to complete her work.

  “Whoa. You’re up.” Melinda came into the room rubbing her eyes. “Are you coming with me on my morning run?”

  “No, I’m gonna have to pass.” Caitlyn turned to face her and twisted her fingers.

  “Did you just get in? You’re still wearing your dress.” Melinda screwed her brows together and looked over Caitlyn in confusion. “Did you stay out all night?”

  Caitlyn pinched her lips to the side as she considered what to say, and Melinda exploded in laughter.

  “You bagged a movie star!”

  “I didn’t bag anyone! He’s…he’s an old friend.” Caitlyn sat on the arm of the sofa and begged Melinda with her eyes. She needed someone to understand. “Do you remember that story I told you about the boy I met in France?”

  “Of course. Back in college, all you could do was babble on about that guy. Mr. Bohemian, Mr. Sweet Lips.” Melinda came over to sit with her.

  “Emrys was that boy,” Caitlyn admitted.

  When Melinda gave her a skeptical look, Caitlyn covered her face and leaned away from her. At first, of course, Melinda clearly didn’t believe her, but as Caitlyn began to break the story down, Melinda grew quiet, occasionally bobbing her head or asking for clarification. She wrapped up the story with Emrys’s invitation.

  “You’re just leaving?” Melinda blinked at her in disbelief.

  “I’ll come back to New York another time. It’s just that I haven’t seen him in so long. I’m really sorry to wreck our trip.”

  “It’s just strange, running off with some random guy you barely know.”

  “He’s not some random guy. We were close. I was in love with him,” Caitlyn argued.

  “Yeah, and that’s clearly in the past tense. People hop across the Atlantic all the time for guys they’ve actually known, what, two months and one passionate night?” Melinda stood and headed to the kitchen with both cats flanking her.