Baby Maker - A Secret Baby Sports Star Romance

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Baby Maker - A Secret Baby Sports Star Romance Page 21

by Rayner, Holly


  A bowl of fresh fruit was brought out, then, containing some items that Nicole had never seen before.

  “What’s this one?” she asked, eager to try something new.

  “This tastes kind of like a kiwi, only it’s a little tarter. You eat it like this.”

  He peeled back the green skin of the fruit. The inside was bright red. Nicole found it hard to believe that it would taste like kiwi, but when Kadeen handed it to her she didn’t hesitate to take a bite. When she did, she laughed in surprise.

  “It really does! I didn’t believe you!”

  “Why, because the color doesn’t match what you know?”

  “I suppose so. There’s so much of the world I haven’t yet opened my eyes to.”

  “Well, I am more than happy to share the experience with you any time you’d care to explore.”

  “That sounds lovely, but I think Imogen would have a heart attack if I took her place.”

  “Never mind Imogen,” he said, dismissing the thought.

  For quite some time, Nicole had assumed that there was something going on between Imogen and Kadeen; the woman was wildly possessive of him, after all. The way he talked about her, though, made Nicole second guess that assumption. Perhaps that affair was entirely one-sided, after all.

  When their dessert was cleaned up, Kadeen paid the bill. Though Nicole wasn’t familiar with the currency used in Al Qazar, based on the number of bills the Sheikh placed on the table, she imagined he had been quite generous with the tip.

  She stood and stretched as they made their way back outside to the car. “Thank you for that. It was delicious.”

  “I’m so glad you thought so. Seafood is one of my favorite things on earth.”

  “Same here,” Nicole agreed.

  She liked connecting with him. The more she learned, the more she realized they had in common, which, coming from backgrounds that were worlds apart, was a fascinating observation. It made her want to learn even more about his culture, if only to continue finding common ground with this man who had grown up in an entirely different world than her own.

  They found the convertible and slid inside. Nicole clicked her seatbelt and glanced at Kadeen.

  “Where to next, boss?”

  “Are you too tired to perhaps make our way to the location of the piece?”

  “Of course not. I know how badly you want to see it. Drive on, and let’s go see if this is the painting you’re searching for.”

  Kadeen’s gaze was intense as she spoke the words, and Nicole wondered if he had plans on grabbing and kissing her then and there. After a moment, he turned back to the steering wheel and started the engine, speeding them on their way.

  Nicole gazed at waves crashing along the sandy shore as the car zipped further up the coastline. She thought about a young Kadeen, causing havoc in a beautiful palace somewhere nearby. Only days ago she would have found it hard to imagine the stoic businessman as a rambunctious child, but as she spent more time with him, she supposed it wasn’t terribly difficult at all.

  Kadeen was a dynamic and interesting man. She recalled some of the things she had read about him in the New York press, about the string of broken hearts he had left behind, and the extravagant purchases he occasionally made to show off. None of that seemed to fit with the man sitting next to her, in spite of the fancy car they were traveling in. There was so much more to Kadeen than Nicole could possibly have read in a gossip blurb, and she was annoyed at herself for having believed the first bit of news she had read about him.

  The road curved away from the coastline, and Nicole was treated to a view of inland Al Qazar, which was essentially desert peppered with patches of oasis. It reminded her of images of Arizona, though the coloring was a shade lighter.

  They entered another village, this one totally different from where they had stopped for lunch, with one well in the center surrounded by squat, wooden houses. Kadeen pulled over to look at his phone, making sure he’d gotten the directions correct before driving over to a small shack on the outskirts.

  Several tumbleweeds blew by as Nicole exited the car and joined Kadeen, who was making his way to the front door of the shack. When he knocked, the wood creaked under his knuckles.

  “Interesting location,” Nicole murmured, glancing around.

  Kadeen said nothing, waiting in silence as they heard approaching footsteps from inside. A portly man in a loose white shirt and trousers opened the door, his salt-and-pepper moustache dotted with breadcrumbs. He was still chewing as he observed his visitors with a wary eye. He asked them a question in Arabic, and Kadeen responded.

  Whatever the Sheikh said certainly woke the man from his stupor. He stood up straight and gave them both a respectful bow before gesturing for them to come inside, which they duly did.

  The inside of the house smelled of mint tea mixed with earth. The man gestured for them to sit at his small kitchen table and Nicole joined Kadeen in taking a seat. The chair creaked unnervingly beneath her, and she thought about grabbing onto Kadeen just in case she fell, then dismissed the idea.

  As the man spoke, Kadeen began to translate for Nicole’s benefit.

  “He says he inherited this house after his father died. He moved in a few weeks ago and found the painting in the basement. Curious to find out if it might be worth something, he did some research online, and a few days later, a contact of mine pointed him towards our firm. He’d like to take us to the basement so we can see if this is the piece we’re looking for.”

  Kadeen’s excitement was palpable even as he kept his face straight, and Nicole did her best to act equally nonchalant as the three of them scooted their chairs out and headed towards the cellar.

  As they took narrow steps down one at a time, Nicole felt she already liked the basement much better than the main floor. It smelled of earth and history, which just happened to be two of her favorite scents.

  The room was pitch black, and the man walked ahead of them, pulling a string to turn on an exposed lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Nicole felt like an archeologist, about to make a major discovery. She wanted to reach out and hold Kadeen’s hand, so to stop herself she placed it in her pocket instead.

  The room was small, and it didn’t take long for them to reach the corner where a large rectangular object lay covered in a dirty sheet. The man made short business of tearing it off to reveal what was underneath.

  Kadeen audibly choked when he saw it. Nicole had never seen him behave this way, but it was as though everything in him fought to keep from falling to his knees before it.

  Before Nicole could even get a good glimpse, Kadeen looked at the man and spoke two words.

  “How much?”

  EIGHT

  Kadeen had to ask the question again in Arabic, as the owner didn’t understand at first. The man’s eyes widened at getting an open offer, and he mumbled as though unsure of what to ask for the portrait. Kadeen threw out some numbers that clearly had the man’s head spinning, and it didn’t take long for him to accept the exorbitant sum.

  He shook Kadeen’s hand enthusiastically, his smile stretching clear across his face, and Kadeen patted his shoulder with a smile of his own before removing his hand.

  The man breathed out something Nicole didn’t understand before dashing up the stairs, two at a time.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  Kadeen’s grin was sheepish. “He’s getting some of his best wine to celebrate finding the lost portrait—though I imagine he might be a little more excited about his newfound wealth.”

  “That was very generous of you,” Nicole observed, but Kadeen just shrugged.

  “The price was nothing compared to the find. This,” he said, turning back to look at the portrait, “is worth all the gold in Al Qazar.”

  Nicole turned back to the painting, then, getting a better look at it. It was difficult to see much in the dark, dank basement, but even with the dirt and grime, she could tell that there was a beautiful picture underneath.


  It was, indeed, the Portrait of a Princess. A beautiful woman with caramel-colored skin wore a sheer lace veil over her head and shoulders. Her dress was red and gold, and it draped down into the bottom of the picture. There was a border around it which ended in a curled point at the top, like many Middle-Eastern paintings Nicole had seen from the same period.

  In short, it was utterly stunning. The woman looked oddly familiar, too, though Nicole couldn’t quite figure out why.

  The man returned to the basement and held out three wine glasses filled with red liquid. He handed them out before raising his glass and making a toast which Kadeen translated.

  “To lost treasures being found. Cheers!”

  Kadeen clinked his glass against Nicole’s, and they all took a sip. The wine was delicious, and Nicole instantly felt giddy. When she looked up into Kadeen’s eyes, she saw raw joy there—something she had never seen in him before.

  When all three cups were empty, their host took the glasses and moved to go back upstairs, gesturing for Nicole and Kadeen to follow.

  “You ready to pick this lady up?” Nicole asked.

  Kadeen’s stare bore into the painting, as though he were trying to move it telepathically. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, I’ll carry it.”

  He lifted the painting as delicately as one would a newborn child, taking great care as he brought it up the stairs and into the light of day.

  “Bet you’re second-guessing the choice of a convertible now, huh?” Nicole asked, wondering just how they were going to transfer the sizeable painting all the way back to the city.

  “We’ll figure it out. All that matters now is that we have her. She’s safe.”

  Nicole repressed a smile, then. Kadeen was anthropomorphizing the painting, another thing he never, ever did, and it was a joy to watch.

  Glancing back at the damaged portrait, Nicole could understand why it was having such an effect on Kadeen. It was one of the most beautiful pieces she had ever laid eyes on.

  They managed to strap the painting into the backseat with a sheet covering it for protection. With such fine weather, there was no risk of precipitation ruining the painting further, at least. Kadeen and Nicole bid adieu to their new friend, who bowed deeply before waving them off, his smile still very much in place.

  Kadeen’s driving was noticeably slower as he turned back onto the main road and got them to the highway that ran parallel to the shore. The sun was making its way toward the horizon, a reminder of just how late Nicole had slept in after their arrival.

  “Do you think you might have the energy to take a preliminary look at this, Nicole?” he asked. “I have a studio space back in the city.”

  The thought of getting a closer look at the painting had Nicole’s fingers itching with anticipation.

  “I’d be happy to,” she replied, and Kadeen’s grin threatened to overwhelm his face.

  They drove in comfortable silence for a while before Nicole finally asked the question she’d been dying to know the answer to since the moment they stepped foot in the basement.

  “Who is she, the woman in the painting?”

  Kadeen glanced over at her, his dark eyes full of excitement and joy. It was contagious, and Nicole, too, felt buoyant with their discovery. What a heady sensation it was! Perhaps she would have to dabble in curating a bit more—get out of the studio every once in a while.

  “She’s actually an ancestor of mine. Her name was Sheikha Ulyaa. I think she’s something like my great-great-great-great-grandmother. This portrait was completed only days before her wedding.”

  “Aha! I thought she looked familiar.”

  Kadeen actually blushed, then, his perfect skin coloring ever so slightly. Nicole realized he was pleased with the comparison.

  “Well. I’ve seen copies before, of course, but looking at the original, I admit I can see a bit of a resemblance. It’s strange, seeing a version of yourself in something so old, so precious.”

  “I can imagine it is. So what’s her story? What makes this painting so valuable?”

  “The artwork itself, if we’re being unbiased, isn’t actually as valuable as I’m making it out to be. It’s the story that goes with it that makes it so alluring—much like Mona Lisa’s smile.”

  Kadeen glanced back at the painting to make sure it was still secure in the backseat. When he was satisfied, he focused back on the road and continued. “The painting was commissioned in honor of the Sheikha’s upcoming wedding. There were rumors that she was in love with the artist that painted the portrait—that you can see her feelings reflected in her expression—but that nothing ever came of it, as she was due to marry the Sheikh of Al Qazar. She married the Sheikh only days after the portrait’s completion, which I admit I am grateful for, since otherwise I wouldn’t be here today.”

  Nicole was surprised to find tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she thought about the tragic story behind the portrait.

  Her imagination got the best of her, and she spent the rest of the drive imagining what it would be like to be the Sheikha, destined to spend the rest of her life with a man she did not love. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be painted by someone and not to be able to tell them about your feelings, to share such an intense experience with someone and not be able to tell them you loved them.

  Actually, that wasn’t so hard to imagine at all.

  NINE

  “Do you know if Sheikha Ulyaa loved her husband?” Nicole asked as they reentered the city, pulling into a parking garage beneath a towering skyscraper.

  Kadeen shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not much is documented about their relationship, but they were immensely popular rulers, and they remained together until his death.”

  Nicole nodded, though she was hardly satisfied with that answer. She wanted to hear that the Sheikha found love anyway, even though she had to go against her heart in favor of her country.

  Kadeen parked the car close to the elevator and turned off the engine. Together, they gingerly lifted the painting from its spot in the back and carried it to the elevator. Kadeen pressed the button for the tenth floor before they rose up, holding the painting like a lifeline until the doors opened on their floor.

  There, Nicole could see a glass-walled room containing all the equipment she would need to evaluate the painting.

  “You pay rent on this all the time, even though you almost never use it?”

  Kadeen shrugged. “We’re using it now, aren’t we? Come on. Let’s see the damage.”

  When they entered the studio, Nicole took over. She had Kadeen place the portrait on a table before bringing over an X-ray machine to take detailed images. Kadeen watched quietly as she worked, Nicole silently wishing she had brought her glasses with her.

  Time slipped away as Nicole focused on taking her X-ray images, then infrared ones, before loading the data onto a computer. As she evaluated the information on the screen, she realized that it was, in fact, the original.

  “You’ve found her,” she breathed.

  Kadeen smiled broadly, his fingertips caressing the rough frame of the portrait, and Nicole did her best not to be jealous of ancient wood. She took another close look at the painting and hesitated, pulling back a little as though unsure if her eyes were deceiving her.

  “What is it?” Kadeen asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

  Nicole walked over to the X-ray image on the screen, shifting the light balance until, all of a sudden, a message was flashing at them in Arabic.

  “My God,” she breathed. “He left a message beneath the paint. That’s amazing!”

  Kadeen was reading the text on the screen, his expression flabbergasted. He was leaning in close enough for Nicole to get a whiff of his cologne, and she almost stepped away, the better to hold onto her sanity. Instead, she leaned a little closer.

  “What’s it say?” she asked, breathless.

  The Sheikh continued to stare at the writing for a moment before he answered her.

&
nbsp; “It’s…it’s a declaration of love from the artist to the Sheikha. He’s talking about how they will never get their chance at happiness, but that it doesn’t matter, because he will love her until the end of time, and his love will be preserved in the oils of this painting.”

  Nicole’s skin tingled as he said the words. She tried to imagine a love so deep, so real, that the artist was willing to risk getting caught just so he could find some way to express his emotions.

  Kadeen glanced down at Nicole then, their faces mere inches apart. All she had to do was lean up a tiny bit, and she could capture his perfect lips with hers. It was something she’d wanted to do for so long, but never dared.

 

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