Sheikh's Scandal

by Lucy Monroe

  “Yes?”

  “Both your mother and I have already committed to accepting and helping Aaliyah succeed in her role should she be pregnant.”

  “And if she’s not.”

  “You know us well enough to answer that.”

  Sayed wasn’t so sure. He’d only come to realize very recently how mistaken he’d been about himself. He’d thought he would have been content to marry Tahira and only now realized how miserable he would have been.

  He thought he might even owe her a thank-you for the elopement.

  *

  Standing on the balcony overlooking the harem gardens, Liyah ignored the second knock on her door in less than hour.

  Hopefully, if she didn’t answer, whoever it was would take the hint and go away.

  The sound of a door opening and soft footfalls across the carpet told her she had not been so lucky.

  “I was an ass.”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t going to deny the obvious.

  Nevertheless, Liyah did not react outwardly to Sayed’s presence or his surprising admission, though her heart started beating faster.

  Honestly, if she could ignore him completely right now, she’d prefer it.

  But Sayed was a guy who took responsibility and apparently his mother believed he had some sort of obligation toward Liyah. Queen Durrah had apparently convinced her son of it, too.

  So, here he was. To apologize? To invite Liyah on an outing?

  Whatever it was, she wanted it over and him gone. Her defenses were always at her lowest around this man and she did not want him to see the tears tightening her throat.

  He stepped up behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “I hurt you.”

  She shrugged, unwilling to lie and equally loath to admit to her weakness. It was too close to admitting why she was so susceptible to him.

  Love hurt. There was no other name for the conflagration of emotion he sparked in her. She loved him.

  She was pretty sure she always would, too. That one-true-love stuff she’d always thought a ridiculous fairy tale? She was living it. Only the happily ever after? It was still in the realm of fantasy and always would be.

  “I am very sorry. It was not intentional.” His right hand slipped down and around to press against her stomach, guiding her body back toward his.

  “I never thought it was.” She was just a one-night stand that wouldn’t go away and his apology didn’t change that, but she’d still liked hearing it. “Please let go of me.”

  She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to spend time with her, but his touch brought her emotions too close to the surface. And that was something she couldn’t deal with.

  His lips brushed against her temple. “I want nothing more than to spend the afternoon with you.”

  “Right.”

  He gently but firmly turned her to face him. If she could believe the evidence of her eyes, his expression showed turmoil equal to Liyah’s. And this time, he was doing nothing to hide it.

  It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Forcing her gaze straight ahead, she opened her mouth to demand again he let her go, but she could not make the words come out.

  She wanted this closeness.

  He sighed, his hands rubbing in circles on Liyah’s back. “I have spent the past two days putting out fires Tahira’s elopement sparked. We have two border countries offering a similar alliance, accepting either one of which would lead to a dangerous political imbalance and almost certain aggression on the part of the other.”

  Did he even realize he was still touching Liyah?

  “Tahira’s country should be offering reparations along with the previously agreed-upon treaty, but her uncle’s current strategy is to lay blame for her defection at my door.”

  Liyah had stubbornly kept her gaze on his chest, but she had to see what he was feeling about that. She raised her head, their gazes clashing immediately.

  A volatile mix of emotions poured through her, needing the smallest spark to send them burning sky-high.

  Longing. Love. Desire. Need. Pain. And worry.

  Because he had major stress lines around his beautiful brown eyes.

  Of its own volition, her hand lifted to smooth away those lines. “Sounds tense.”

  “That’s one word for it. I have others that aren’t acceptable in mixed company.”

  “Is it going to be okay?” Was he going to be all right?

  “Yes, because there is no other option.”

  “Are you going to marry someone from those other two countries?”

  “No.”

  “What about Tahira’s country. Maybe she’s got a sister? A cousin?”

  He shook his head. “Right now the idea of a politically motivated match is leaving a very bad taste in my mouth.”

  “That makes sense.” Liyah did her best to ignore her heart’s leap at his pronouncement.

  “So, with all of this to occupy my thoughts, you’d think there was no room for anything else.”

  “You don’t have to make excuses for not seeing me. Your mother is kind, but she’s wrong. You don’t owe me anything.” Maybe if Liyah kept saying it, he’d realize she believed it.

  No matter how much the truth hurt.

  “I wasn’t trying to excuse myself. I was admitting that even with everything else on my mind right now, I cannot stop thinking about you, craving you.”

  “You mean sex.” Disappointing, but not unexpected. And it wasn’t as if she’d say no. Surely he had to realize that.

  “That’s definitely part of it, but I want to take you sightseeing.”

  “You said—”

  “A bunch of camel dung, because facing what I want doesn’t mean I get to have it.”

  “You’re kind of complicated.”

  “I’m an emir, complicated defines my life.”

  “Is there something we could do that wouldn’t put us at risk for exposure?” She felt like a fugitive in witness protection asking, but as much as he was now disparaging his own arguments, he’d been right.

  Having her recognized with him wouldn’t do him any favors. Not because she wasn’t good enough, but because—like he’d said before—she was just too different to fit in with his life.

  She ignored the tiny voice that said she’d been fitting in pretty well with his family the past two days.

  He smiled. “You are willing to spend time with me, even after I behaved like such an ass?”

  “Yes.” A smile played around her own lips. “But we have to stay in stealth mode.”

  If she had a chance to spend time with him before the inevitable and growing-closer expiry date of their association, she’d take it.

  “We could go into the desert. Our family has been going to the same retreat since the first melech.”

  “Like your Camp David?”

  “If Camp David stepped out of an Arabian Nights fantasy, yes.”

  “Really?” She made no effort to hide her enthusiasm.

  “Absolutely. Will you come with me?”

  The spark of uncertainty and steady burn of desire in his espresso gaze decided her. “Yes.”

  “Pack a bag. We’ll spend at least one night.”

  “Can you afford to take this time off?”

  “Taking myself out of the equation for the moment will actually make it easier for my father to effect his own form of diplomacy.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “Not really, but he yells a lot more than me. He can posture without me there as a witness to force the others to draw a line in the sand.”

  “Not a hard thing to do in the desert.”

  “But sandstorms have a habit of obliterating those lines.”

  “And Melech Falah is the sandstorm?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “The voice of rationality everyone will want to deal with after three days of my father’s chest pounding.”

  “It’s good cop/bad cop.”

  “On an in
ternational scale, yes.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself and his father.

  She couldn’t help returning the smile.

  *

  Sayed hadn’t been exaggerating. The royal family’s retreat was like a set from Arabian Nights, only every silk hanging and antique Turkish carpet was genuine.

  They spent three days exploring the desert, Sayed showing Liyah the beauty of his country in his own unique way.

  And they made love. Often and in romantic settings she would never have envisioned.

  The last day, he took her to an oasis where he had a semipermanent tent set up. He said the herdsmen used it, but when he took her inside it smelled of sweet jasmine and was filled with silk blankets and pillows.

  She twirled around, her silk abayah flowing gently around her. “This is no herdsmen’s tent.”

  “No, today it is the tent for the emir and his lover.”

  She didn’t deny the label like she might have three days before. Their affair might be short-lived, but she would never be the same and she didn’t think he would, either.

  They made love that night into the wee hours. Stars glittered in the cornflower-blue sky as they cuddled, facing the pulled-back curtains of the tent opening.

  Security guards were in smaller tents around, but she’d learned to forget they were there. Strange how quickly a person could become adjusted to things like that.

  She curled around his body, his arms holding her with fierce possessiveness and a sense of security no weaker for its lack of permanence.

  “When is the blood test?” she asked.

  “Dr. Batsmati will draw a sample tomorrow morning.”

  “And the blood test is one hundred percent accurate?”

  “This one is, yes. It’s why we had to wait a minimum of five days from making love.”

  “Then I guess I’ll move to a hotel soon.”

  “You are assuming it will be negative.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No,” he said, shocking her. “I’ve prepared for a positive result.”

  “What do you mean? What will happen if I am pregnant?” The question was academic as far as she was concerned.

  Her body had already started responding as it usually did the week before her period.

  “A royal wedding.”

  “What? What are you saying? We aren’t getting married.” Considering her feelings for him, she should have been thrilled at his words, but panic made her heart race instead.

  She didn’t want him trapped into marriage.

  “If you are pregnant with my child, it is the only course of action open to us.”

  “But I took the pill. I’m not pregnant.”

  He shook his head. “One thing you learn in high-level politics is how real a chance even five percent, much less twenty, can be.”

  “But marriage? You can’t be serious.”

  “Never more so.” He looked down at her, his expression too shadowed to read in light provided by the moon and stars. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “No, it is not. The point is that you will not raise our child alone.”

  “Why can’t we share custody? I could move to Zeena Sahra.” There was nothing to return home to. No one who would care if she made her life halfway around the world. “There are hotels there. I could continue to build my career.”

  “And be what to our child?”

  Was that a trick question? “Her mother.”

  “How do you propose to do that without causing a great scandal?”

  “And you don’t think marrying me—a chambermaid—would do that?”

  “Lead chambermaid,” he said, proving he remembered their first meeting. “And something more when you weren’t taking a job to provide you access to your father.”

  “You’re still nowhere near my orbit, you said so yourself.”

  “There will be a media furor.” He sounded way less bothered by that than he should be. “But nothing like the ongoing existence of a woman in my son’s life who is not my wife.”

  “You can’t want to marry me. I’m not princess material at all.”

  “I disagree. You have already proven to have more heart and honorable intent than Tahira ever did—at least where I am concerned. You are articulate and intelligent, self-controlled, as well. Once you have the proper training, the rest of the world will be able to do nothing but admire my choice in emira.”

  “Proper training?” she asked carefully, not liking the sound of that at all.

  His thumb caressed her palm, sending shivers through her. “Consider it like going to university to get a degree in being a political figure.”

  “A political figure’s wife, surely.”

  “Make no mistake, as my emira and ultimately melecha of our country, you would have a political role, just as my mother does.”

  “How am I supposed to train for something like that?”

  “With the teachers who served me best.”

  “You had tutors? I thought you went to boarding school in the States.”

  He smiled, the expression impacting her like it always did. “I’m referring to my parents. Both have already agreed to do their best to help you learn your new role, should it become necessary.”

  “I didn’t think having sex with you was signing me up for a new career.”

  Sayed shrugged, his body shifting against hers. “Life is like that, full of curve balls, as one of my old professors was so fond of saying.”

  “This is crazy. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Difficult? Perhaps. Crazy? No.”

  “Stop talking about it.” She wasn’t pregnant and all this talk of marriage was only going to make it harder to leave him.

  She couldn’t afford dreams with so little substance.

  “For now.” Sayed turned over, pushing her onto her back and proceeded to blow her mind. Again.

  If his lovemaking seemed to be tinged with desperation, she figured maybe her own feelings were simply reflecting back on her.

  *

  Sayed stormed into his father’s office and threw the newspaper in his hand onto the king’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Once the story broke, there was nothing you could do.” His father flicked a glance at the image of Sayed and Liyah in a passionate lip-lock—and not the first one in three days to run in their country’s most widely circulated newspaper. “The only course of action left open was to wait and see how it was received.”

  “Pictures of Aaliyah and I kissing were on the Net hours after we arrived at the retreat.”

  “You did kiss her outside.”

  “In our private gardens!”

  “Not that private.” His father seemed a lot less angry than Sayed would have expected. “You know how dangerous a high-powered camera lens can be.”

  “How did they know we even left the palace?”

  “You know we have media watching us all the time.”

  “Not this closely. Someone had to have leaked something.”

  His father shrugged. “Perhaps. Our people love the Cinderella angle. Have you noticed? Omar said it’s all over the social media sites.”

  “And your fixer did nothing to kibosh it?”

  “On the internet? Not going to happen.”

  “I doubt very sincerely the border countries looking for an alliance are nearly as caught up in the romance of it all,” Sayed fairly growled.

  “You would be surprised.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Apparently, none of them wanted us making such a firm alliance with the others. You marrying an outsider with no political agenda will actually work in our favor.”

  “Who said anything about marriage?”

  “Do you really think anything else will suffice after that?” His father pointed to the second photo in the story.

  It was of Sayed and Aaliyah leaving the oasis tent, his arm around her, their expressions and manner clea
rly that of a couple who had just made love.

  “What if she won’t agree?” Her reaction to Sayed bringing it up in response to her pregnancy had been a solid wall of negativity.

  He hadn’t realized how much he needed her to want it until she’d made it clear she didn’t.

  “You’ll have to convince her. From the look of things, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

  “You have no idea.”

  *

  Liyah hung up with Dr. Batsmati, a tight band of disappointment squeezing her chest. They’d done a rush on the lab results.

  He’d only drawn her blood a couple of hours ago. She wasn’t pregnant.

  Pretty soon, she’d be leaving the palace.

  And she’d never see Sayed again.

  Pain ripped through her as she’d only felt once before. When her mother died.

  The rejection of her Amari relatives and her father hadn’t been pleasant, but neither had caused this devastating depression to settle over her.

  Even her mother’s death hadn’t made Liyah wonder if she would ever truly know joy again. Melodramatic?

  Maybe, but she loved Sayed and she didn’t care if it made sense. It didn’t matter that she’d always thought it impossible to fall so deep so fast.

  She’d done it and wasn’t sure if her heart was going to survive the blow of losing Sayed.

  And yet the temptation to leave without seeing him again was strong.

  Only, she wasn’t that person, the one who hid from the hard things in life. Hena Amari had set a better example than that.

  Taking the time to change into a dark teal dishdasha Sayed had found particularly alluring, Liyah mentally prepared for the discussion to come.

  She brushed her hair out until it shone and then draped the hijab over it loosely, framing her face to its best advantage.

  Okay, so maybe she wanted Sayed to be at least a little sorry to say goodbye to her.

  Opening the door, Liyah jumped back with a surprised squeak at the sight of Sayed there already, his fist raised to knock.

  “Surely the sight of me is not such a shock,” he said with one of the smiles she’d started to think of as hers.

  He never offered that particular expression to anyone else that she’d noticed. And Liyah had been looking.

  “You know this is the harem. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I am emir.”

  “And you still have to maintain traditions. What, is there some kind of secret passage you use, or something?” She really didn’t think Sayed walked by the door guard without a qualm.