He ordered wine, and I was about to decline, but decided I would pretend to sip at it. I still wasn’t ready to tell him. Besides, wine was allowed during pregnancy in small doses—at least, I thought I remembered that little tidbit. Or I wanted to remember that because I sorely needed something to settle my nerves and dim this quickly erupting anxiety attack.
He asked me what I felt like eating. This surprised me. I told him I could go for an entire cow, making him laugh.
He turned his chair and picked up my hand, his knees touched along the outside of my thigh. “Julie, I am sorry if I upset you earlier.”
My tone was way too airy, “You didn’t—I mean it’s okay—I mean, not your fault—hormones, you know? Being a girl is a tough road to hoe.”
His face took on a way too serious expression, “You were going to tell me something?”
“Um, no—um, just that—well, Amir?” He lifted his brows as I continued to sound like a retard unable to form coherent sentences. “I like you, too.”
Oh God. Here I go again. Like him? You like him? You’re crazy about him. He consumes your every thought—waking and sleeping. You’re carrying his baby. You like him? I sagged against my chair, afraid I was going to pass out.
“Alright. That is a good thing to know.” His face betrayed his internal confusion.
“Amir? I meant—I mean—more than like.”
He gave me an expectant look, “Okay, Julie. I more than like you as well.”
Amir leaned towards me and rested his huge mitt on my bare leg. Goosebumps instantly appeared, and I made a much too needy sound.
Amir leaned even closer and scented my neck, “You smell of the wildflowers and of hydration, of hope and life.”
I batted my lashes in response, feeling like I was having a seizure. “Um, thanks?”
He placed a quick kiss on my neck, “I’ve missed you. I crave you every second of my existence.”
He kissed me and I swooned, leaning into him and making the neediest sounds. “Tell me you will be mine, Julie.” He kissed me again and I almost fell into his lap.
“Tell me your thoughts on children? I realize that modern women, especially American females, often they choose career over progeny. You seem like just such a female to me. Tell me.”
“I um—never wanted kids—never as in the past—I mean—sometimes I’ve entertained the idea. Career though? Yes—that is my focus. My whole life in fact—kids no—at least not yet—career yes—totally into my career.”
“Ahhh, so someday you envision being a mother?”
My snort, followed by a quick, “Sooner than I planned,” made his head jerk up. He didn’t miss a thing.
His tone reminded me of a king, sitting in a throne, seeking an answer, “Explain that last statement.”
I bit my lip and gnawed on it while I decided what to do. I had to eventually tell him. There was no denying him the information. I wanted more of him, I wanted to be with him and near him and somehow have this strange fairy tale come to life. If I wanted all of that, I couldn’t simply abort and never tell him. He would somehow find out, and then hate me and discard me. I knew I could never live with that. Even now, the thought of not being in his life sent me into a near hysteria.
I drew my brows together and faced him, “Amir.” I paused right there. Physically unable to say the words. He picked up my hand and gave me one short nod. I cleared my throat. “Amir. I am pregnant.” A myriad emotions flitted across his face and for a moment it was the most unhinged I’d seen him. Normally the utter canvas of composure, now he seemed almost near tears.
I clarified, “I am one hundred percent certain it is yours.”
He swallowed and dropped my hand, reaching for his napkin. He was entirely speechless—another anomaly for him. In a voice that hinted at extreme fear, he tried to say something, and it came out as a mixture of statement and question.
“You’re keeping it…?”
I decided I’d already jumped off that ledge, so I might as well be honest. “I wasn’t going to. I have an appointment on Monday.”
He turned so abruptly, I jumped in place. His hands went to my shoulders, and he shook me lightly.
“No! Absolutely NOT! You will marry me. You will be my queen. This is my child.”
I nodded and began crying. I sobbed the words, “I didn’t plan this, Amir. I refuse to trap you this way. Not my plan. None of this is what I wanted.”
His hands fell away from me as he sagged back into his chair. “You do not want to be my wife? The queen of a nation?”
“Amir, I think I’m falling for you. That is all I know.” I waved my hands in the air frantically.
“The rest of this—this!” I set a hand on my belly, “This, this isn’t—wasn’t ever in my plans. I wasn’t going to EVER have this…”
His eyes traveled to my belly and his expression softened.
“Julie, I know I am in love with you. I am certain and this…”
He reached forward and set his hand over mine. “This is the manifestation of that love. This is our sign from the heavens.”
The tears pooled in my eyes and I sniffed repeatedly. Then I began a bobble headed kind of nodding that I couldn’t stop. Finally, I simply said, “Yes, I guess it is.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Instead of taking me home, Amir took me to his penthouse suite in the Sheraton. Once we were in the elevator, he pinned me to the wall and devoured my mouth with his. His hands held me securely so I couldn’t move, and he became my air, my support, my strength. I gave to him, fully giving in and succumbing to this moment in time. My mind swirled with numerous doubts as I continued to battle with an uncertain future with a man I hardly knew. But his kisses continued to banish those thoughts and replace them with visions of love.
I saw us as a couple together. In bed, at the beach, eating and simply sitting on a couch and watching TV. Then I saw our son, his son. A golden child with light eyes and sandy hair. He would be an heir to a throne, and his beauty, like his father’s, would hold a nation in sway. The same way Amir held me in rapturous bliss.
When we entered his massive suite, he swept me up into his arms and threw me on the huge bed. Then he froze. “I am so sorry! I should be more careful. Forgive me.” He went to his knees at the side of the bed, and I giggled at him.
“Don’t be silly. I’m only a couple months along. You can’t hurt it—him—or me.”
“Him? Do I dare dream, my princess?”
I shrugged. “I just had a vision of us and of him—so yeah, go ahead. Might as well fall headfirst on this one.”
He dragged my legs apart and to the edge, spreading them. “Sometimes, princess, I do not comprehend your American slang. I, however, would enjoy falling headfirst into you.”
I squealed as he snagged my panties and ripped them down to my knees. “Amir Rashid! You are such a bad man. I didn’t know this about you.”
He jerked me closer to the edge of the bed and then tore my panties the remainder of the way off, over my boots. Then he spread my legs even farther and dove down to kiss at my center. His long tongue dashed out and lapped across my folds, and I dug my fingers in his hair, groaning so loudly, he chuckled between my legs.
I held him there, my fingers digging into his scalp, and he made love to me with his mouth. When he was finished—after he’d made me orgasm in a series of multiple, mind-numbing rushes of release, he pushed me up the bed and kissed me. He kissed me until my lips were numb and my heart was entirely his. The last remnants of doubt flitting away like fog against the morning sun.
I was his. He was mine. And my life was now going to be nothing like I’d planned. No regrets!
To Be Continued…
To stay updated on the sequel, CLICK HERE.
Author’s Note to all of my fans/readers:
Thank you so much for reading my work! I love all of you!!
If you enjoyed the book, please leave a positive review :)
Part 2 is coming in January!<
br />
-J. Brooke
Email me at [email protected]
Follow me on Facebook! CLICK HERE
The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 5) Page 6
