Qadir poured them each a Scotch and handed his brother a glass. “What woman?”
Kateb raised his eyebrows. “Word of your involvement had even reached me in the desert, so there must be a woman.”
They settled on the oversize sofas in the main living area. Qadir raised his glass in a toast to his brother. “It is good to have you back. You stay away too long.”
“I find no pleasure in the city. I belong in the desert.” Kateb took a sip of his drink. “But you have not answered my question.”
“Her name is Maggie Collins. She’s restoring the Rolls.”
Kateb’s expression gave nothing away. “And?”
“And she’s beautiful, funny, down-to-earth.”
“You say all the right things. What aren’t you telling me, brother?”
Qadir grinned. “That it’s a game. I’m paying her to pretend to be my girlfriend. In a few weeks, we’ll get engaged. Then this will all be too much for her and she’ll return home. Heartbroken, I won’t be able to consider any of our father’s offers for perhaps as long as a year.”
Kateb nodded slowly. “An impressive plan.”
“You wish you’d thought of it yourself.”
“The idea has merit, although living in the desert as I do, I am well out of the king’s reach.”
“Lucky you.”
Kateb took another drink. “You do realize the game may have consequences.”
Qadir thought about his encounter with Maggie that morning, in the garage. If those were the consequences his brother was talking about, he would welcome them.
She had been all sweet fire in his arms. Her body yielding, her moans telling him she was as aroused as he had been.
“I am not concerned,” Qadir told him. “I know what I’m doing.”
“As you wish.”
“Are you here to discuss the nomination?” Qadir asked.
Kateb shrugged. “I am not sure there is anything to discuss.”
“They will name you and then what? Our father will not be pleased.”
“I have never been able to please him.”
“If you accept, you face him as an equal.”
Kateb smiled. “The king will not see things that way.”
Years ago, Qadir and his brothers had been sent into the desert, as was tradition. Young royal sons were taught the old ways, living with the nomads who roamed the deserts of the area. Qadir had endured the time but Kateb had loved it. As soon as he had finished university, he had chosen to make his home in the desert.
Tradition stated that every twenty-five years a new leader was nominated. As Kateb had become one of them, he was expected to be named.
But he was already an heir to Mukhtar’s throne. Not the first in line, but still close to being king. For Kateb to accept the nomination of the desert people meant abdicating his rights to the El Deharian throne.
“What do you want?” Qadir asked.
“To stay where I belong. I am unlikely to be king here. Walking away from what will never be mine is not a hardship.”
But if it was so easy, wouldn’t Kateb have already made the decision?
“Apparently the kind of flowers matter,” Kayleen said with a sigh. “There are rules.”
“Ignore the rules,” Prince As’ad told her. “You are to be my bride. Do what makes you happy.”
“So imperious,” Kayleen said, although she smiled at her fiancé. “It’s easy for him to tell me to break the rules, but he doesn’t have to face the wedding planner.” She leaned toward Maggie, her eyes wide. “Do you know the president of the United States has been invited? I nearly passed out when they told me. Fortunately he can’t come. They’ll send someone else, which is great. I couldn’t help fainting if I knew the president was there.”
As’ad touched her cheek. “You are far too strong to faint.”
“Maybe, but I’ll sure be thinking about it.” Kayleen shook her head. “I’m sorry. Hearing all this talk about the wedding must be really boring for you.” She smiled. “Qadir especially.”
“You are so lovely that any topic is interesting,” Qadir told her.
Maggie had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. As’ad glared at his brother.
“Do not use your charm on my fiancée or you will suffer the consequences.”
Qadir only looked amused. “Are you so unsure of her affections?”
Kayleen rolled her eyes. “They get like this from time to time. Sort of a royal way of letting off steam. We can pretty much send it in any direction we want. You could get insulted that Qadir is pretending to make a play for me or I could be flattered he thinks I’m worthy or we would ignore them altogether and just talk about something else.”
Maggie had been nervous about the dinner with As’ad and Kayleen. She didn’t know either of them and an intimate setting would require a lot of conversation. She had wondered how it would be possible to keep her fake relationship with Qadir seeming real.
But she found herself enjoying the evening very much. The other couple was easy to talk to. Kayleen especially bubbled about the wedding. They hadn’t asked any awkward questions and seemed to totally accept her. Life being what it was, that made her feel a little guilty.
“Let’s ignore them,” Maggie said. “Tell me about your three girls. That’s a lot to take on when you’re just getting married.”
“I know,” Kayleen said, sounding totally thrilled. “But the girls are the reason As’ad and I are together. He adopted them—it’s a long, complicated story. Anyway, I was their nanny and we sort of, well…”
“Fell in love,” Maggie said, seeing the truth in her eyes.
“Yes. It was wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Maggie watched Kayleen look at her fiancé. There was so much love between them. So much caring. She felt a flicker of envy deep inside. A strong desire to have the same for herself.
She tried to remember if she’d ever felt that kind of connection before. Had it existed with Jon? She realized she wasn’t sure. That their love had evolved slowly. How much of it had been proximity? Had they fallen in love because they’d both been together all the time?
She didn’t have an answer, but as she considered the question she realized she wasn’t sad. That thinking about Jon didn’t depress her anymore.
She probed more deliberately. Didn’t she miss him? Didn’t she want them to get back together?
The answer came quickly. No. She still liked him and admired him, but the longing was gone. Even the simple need to talk to him burned much more quietly.
She still felt regret for that last night together. She wasn’t sure how long it would take for the shame to ease. But except for that, she felt ready to put Jon behind her. She found herself genuinely happy that he’d found someone else and longed to do the same herself.
Involuntarily she found herself looking at Qadir. Was he the one?
That made her smile. Yes, the man was amazing and apparently had a direct and sexual line to her nervous system, but that didn’t mean they would have any kind of serious relationship. Ever. The prince and the car mechanic? Not likely.
“Qadir is very nice,” Kayleen said, her voice soft.
Maggie smiled. “He is. Not nearly as imperious as I would have imagined a prince to be.”
“I think he’s more low-key than the other brothers. Now Kateb is superintense. Have you met him?”
“No.”
“He lives in the desert. He just got back. I talked to him for a few minutes earlier today. Wow. Talk about dark and dangerous. I kept wanting to hide behind As’ad.”
“Why?”
“I can’t really explain it. There’s something about him that isn’t completely…tamed. Hmm, that’s the wrong word, but its the best one I can come up with.”
An untamed prince?
“The king is already asking about grandchildren,” As’ad said to Qadir.
Kayleen squeezed his hand. “But that’s the fun part.”
As�
�ad smiled at her. “You are too understanding. The king goes too far. We are not yet married.”
“You could just tell him we’re planning on having children fairly quickly. That would make him feel better.”
“I will not give him the satisfaction.”
Kayleen looked at Maggie. “See what I mean? Totally stubborn. How am I supposed to fight against that?”
“You are not,” As’ad told her. He looked at his brother. “You know, if your relationship gets serious, he will do the same to you. The man is never satisfied.”
Qadir reached for her hand. “Don’t get scared. I’ll protect you from the king.”
“I’m not worried,” Maggie told him. There was no way she and Qadir would ever be having the children discussion. She was here for a limited period of time. Sort of like the traveling theater. Not that she wouldn’t want children one day.
She and Jon had always assumed they would get married and have kids. They’d argued about the number. He wanted three. She kept pointing out that practically, an even number was better. Then he joked about eight and they would laugh.
Instinctively she braced herself for the pain from the memories, but there wasn’t any. She had truly moved on.
“It’s kind of funny to have to worry about not getting pregnant early,” Kayleen said. “Obviously one doesn’t want to be a pregnant bride under any circumstances, but when the groom is a prince, it’s a huge deal.”
“It would only take one mistake,” Qadir said cheerfully. “No pressure, brother.”
As’ad growled some reply but Maggie wasn’t listening. She found herself oddly frozen in time, as if she’d left her body and could see the party happening below her but wasn’t a part of it anymore.
“No, no, no,” she told herself silently. It wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. It had only been the one time. Off the pill, her period was never regular, so she wasn’t technically late.
Fear clutched her, leaving her chilled to the bone.
One time with Jon. That single night.
As they had only ever been with each other, their only worry for protection had been pregnancy. She’d gone on the pill early in their relationship and all had been well. But after the breakup, she hadn’t bothered, knowing she wasn’t interested in being with anyone, at least not for a long time.
Which meant that she hadn’t been taking birth control that last night she and Jon were together—and he hadn’t used a condom.
“Maggie?” Qadir asked. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and tried to smile, even as she fought waves of panic. She couldn’t be pregnant. Not now. Not with Jon’s baby. That would be a massive disaster—one she wouldn’t know how to fix.
After getting directions to the nearest couple of drugstores from Victoria, Maggie headed out first thing the next morning. She hadn’t slept all night, even after telling herself that her period was late because of the stress she’d been through. One encounter did not a baby make. Or did it?
As her friend had promised, there were several shops on the street, with a drugstore at each end. Maggie went into the first one and prayed that El Deharia was a enough of a forward-thinking country that there would be pregnancy kits right there on the shelf.
She found the aisle with all the female products and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the boxes that she had only previously seen on television. At least she wasn’t going to have to ask the pharmacist.
She was about to grab one when she heard some odd whispering. She turned and saw a couple of teenage girls behind her. They were in school uniforms and carrying books.
“You’re her, aren’t you?” one of them said. “The girl dating Qadir. He’s delicious. I like him the best. What’s he really like?”
Maggie wondered if she was standing there with her mouth hanging open from shock. These girls had recognized her from those stupid tabloid pictures? Was it possible?
“Oh, hi,” she said, feeling like an idiot. “He’s really nice. Friendly.”
“How did you meet?”
“I work at the palace.”
The other girl sighed. “I wish I could get a job there. My mom says I’m not the type to do real work, but I could do something.”
Her friend smiled. “He’s the best. You’re so lucky. Come on. We need to get to school.”
They waved and left. Maggie walked around to the next aisle, where she picked up some bandages she didn’t need. When she was sure the girls were gone, she returned to the first aisle and bought three different pregnancy kits. Then she went to the front of the store and paid for them.
What she didn’t see was the third teenage girl lurking behind, her cell phone held high, camera at the ready. As Maggie fished money out of her wallet, the third girl started snapping pictures.
Twenty-four hours later, Maggie sat on her sofa trying to decide which was worse—the fact that she was pregnant, or the picture in the paper showing her buying the pregnancy kits.
And the speculation that the child was Qadir’s.
Chapter Eight
M aggie couldn’t believe it. There was her picture and she was clearly holding the pregnancy kits. Who had done that and how? Who walked around with a camera all the…
A cell phone, she thought as she sank onto the sofa and held in a groan. Those girls. Was it possible?
She looked at the grainy picture and realized it was more than possible. It had happened.
She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Remembering that last night with Jon, she knew it had to have happened then. But why did she have to be pregnant? Now? Like this?
She covered her face with her hands, ashamed, embarrassed, confused. This couldn’t be real. She was asleep and she would wake up and be grateful that—
Someone knocked on the door. She didn’t want to answer, but knew she couldn’t hide out in her suite forever. She would have to face Qadir. She winced, thinking about how all this was going to effect him. What must he think of her?
She stood and walked to the door, then sucked in a breath and pulled it open.
She’d been hoping for Victoria. Instead a handsome prince stood in her doorway.
“I see by your expression you’ve seen the morning paper,” he said calmly. “May I come in?”
She stepped back, then closed the door behind him. Heat burned on her cheeks. She had no idea what to say. She’d never planned on getting pregnant in the first place, let alone drag him into the mess, with people assuming the child was his.
“I feel horrible,” she said, knowing she should be the one to start the conversation. “I had no idea about this. You have to believe me.”
“I do.” He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “Jon is the father?”
She nodded. “There was one time, a few weeks ago. I was feeling lost and alone and things just got out of hand.” She pressed her lips together. Okay, not the whole truth, but she was afraid to have him think even less of her by explaining it all in detail.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. “Not that, not the pregnancy. We don’t love each other. He’s with someone else and I’ve moved on.” She was more sure of that by the day. “I can’t believe I’m pregnant.”
Qadir looked at her. “You’ve taken the test to be sure? There is no mistake?”
“I wish there was. I didn’t just take one test, I took three of them. I’m pregnant.”
She waited for a reaction. An immediate statement that their deal was over. Maybe even orders to leave the country. But when he said nothing, she didn’t know what to think. Worse, she couldn’t look at him.
Maybe he was waiting for her to just pack her things and go. Her previous life hadn’t prepared her for a situation like this. Everything was awkward enough, but his royal status added a whole new level of embarrassment to the conversation.
“This creates a complication,” he said at last.
Despite everything she smiled. “You do have a talent for understatement.”
; “Jon will not be expecting you to be pregnant.”
“Probably not.” She drew in a deep breath. Okay—fine. She could be the one to say it. “Look, I know why you’re here. You want me to understand that with things being the way they are, our deal is off. I get that. In your situation, I’d feel exactly the same way. But I’d really like to finish the car. I can do a beautiful job and being pregnant isn’t going to make me any less skilled. To be honest, I need the job. I don’t have health insurance and once I start to show, no one is going to want to hire me.”
She felt panic flaring inside of her but refused to give in to it. Under the circumstances, she felt slimy enough just begging for her job. If she had any pride—or money in the bank—she would simply walk away. If it was just her, she would. But she now had a baby to think of.
A baby?
She pressed her hand to her stomach. No way. There couldn’t be life growing inside her. She couldn’t sense it. She didn’t feel any different. Shouldn’t she have a maternal connection or at least a clue?
“Do you want to leave?” he asked.
“What? Of course not.”
“I have not suggested you should go.”
“But I’m pregnant.”
He nodded. “And people will assume the child is mine. What does it say about me that I let you leave the country?”
Maggie sank onto the sofa. She hadn’t thought about that. “You’ll have to issue a statement or something. Tell them it’s not your baby. Some kind of official denial. People will think badly of me rather than you.” Which she hated, but how could they get around that?
“Who will believe the child isn’t mine?” he asked. “We have been seen together.”
“Only for a short time and the baby not being yours is the truth.”
“Why would that matter?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Good point, she thought, feeling alone and confused. Since when was truth a priority when it came to gossip?
“I’ll tell the truth,” she said slowly, hating that she would be known as a slut in public. “That I was with someone else. You’re off the hook.”
“You don’t want to do that,” he told her. “You will not enjoy the attention.”
The Sheik and the Pregnant Bride Page 10
