The Obsessed Billionaire: Boxed Set (Complete Vols. 1-5, A Billionaire Romance Series)
Page 17
“Then it is settled. Your petition is granted.”
My heart soared!
“On one condition.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my shoulders and jaw tensed. I waited for the hammer that seemed poised to crash my dreams.
“You must marry within a fortnight. There has already been too much speculation and it must seem as if this was the arrangement all along. Can you agree to that?”
His eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth.
“Yes, Sire, I believe I can handle that.”
The King stood and moved forward off the dais and toward me.
He laid his right hand on my head and said a small blessing over it, ending it with, ‘my son,’ which nearly choked me up.
“Rise and go to the Queen my friend. She has missed you as I have and this petition would not be granted were it not for her.”
Chapter 21
After Michael’s gratitude and joy toward my mother had been expressed and I had run around her to throw myself into his arms, we all retired to my father’s private library for family tea.
“There is still much work to be done to heal our nation and set its course right again.”
The King’s tone was serious; measured.
“What can I do to help?” Michael asked.
The King looked to Mum who nodded before he turned his gaze back to Michael.
“Not you, but Jannah.”
Michael looked at me, confused, while I felt equally confused.
“I—I don’t understand.”
My father turned to me this time.
“I spoke to the people this week. Did you hear it?”
“Yes, Papa, I did. But I do not know how that applies here.”
His nod was subtle and silent as he seemed to contemplate something.
I wanted to reach for Michael’s hand but knew I needed to refrain.
“I am this nation’s father, in service to Allah. I am the Almighty’s representative on Earth for this nation. I have been its shepherd, its ruler, and its guardian. But,” he glanced to my mother, “we are ushering in a new era. One where greater things are being asked of us. One where we must hold our own with more progressive nations while still retaining our values and culture.”
I nodded to encourage him, trying to understand where he was going.
“Your absence from the country and court life has prepared you in ways we never could have expected. Even your time with Michael has caused important changes to your sense of yourself and what is right and wrong. What is just and unjust.”
“Yes Papa, I feel this.”
“It is time that we harvest that fruit. Our nation needs a bridge. Someone,” he glanced at Michael, which was starting to make a little more sense, “who can protect our way of life yet also bring to light the beauty of things we need to embrace.”
Okay, now I was confused again. If he wanted me to support Michael in playing a political role in our nation, I knew the elders and elitists would balk, but it was a much-needed change that would help us evolve.
But his words weren’t clear yet so I was not certain I understood him fully.
“Jannah, you must become that bridge. You will become our country’s sentinel. You will find ways to help us gently transition from what we were to what we must be.
“Not drastic change. Not directing the change. But rather quietly facilitating it while also safeguarding our cultural mores and customs.
“The people must understand that you are gentle, but firm. Holding belief in what was and space for what will be.
“You must become the ambassador of our much-loved ways and our willingness to treat all people as valued.”
I could not believe what I was hearing. I was stunned. Never before had a woman held any position of power. Never before had we been truly seen.
I knew in a flash that what he proposed was impossible. I would have to show the elders and the staunchest purists and orthodoxy that I was not here to push or sway, yet at the same time effect the necessary change.
To be the guardian of our country’s future, just as he had said in his speech.
I looked to Michael who was as stunned as I, but there was a light of pride in his eyes, and I knew in a flash that he would devote his life to ensuring I served in every way I needed. He would never hold me back.
I looked to my mother and her eyes were awash with tears. I threw my arms around her as I knew I was being called to do what she was never allowed. All because of who she had been with my father.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. Your whole life has been about this.”
I was to become … The Sentinel.
Epilogue
After the dowry was paid Michael was fast-tracked through the Islamic conversion in private to assure the people that their “new” princess was not given to a man without a shared faith. We followed all the rituals and embraced the complexities of the demands, which was further complicated by the decision to host two weddings. One at the palace, and the second, a Western version for Michael’s friends and associates, in Milan, where we met.
When it was time to negotiate the marital contract, Michael asked for a few minutes alone with me to discuss it.
I could not believe this man I loved so dearly would soon become my husband.
“Are you worried about something specific?” I watched his eyes, wondering what it could be.
“No, I’m not worried. I just want… specific stipulations.”
“Oh? Like what?”
Mischievousness flooded his face and I nearly laughed, imagining all the things he could be inferring.
“Like, I want an explicit promise of your maidenhead. I have waited SO long. I need that!”
I laughed and shook my head.
“Oh, you need it, do you?”
“Hell yes! I have paid a king’s ransom for you twice over, chased you all around the world, been shot at more times than I want to count, and knelt in front of your father for what seemed like at least a dozen hours. I have earned it. And if we were anywhere else right now I would have you pinned against the wall to show you how much I need it!”
“And, you think my maidenhead has been purchased? That those things entitle you to it?”
It was hard to sound serious because all I wanted to do was giggle and he knew it.
“No—I mean yes—oh hell … can we just put it in the contract? For me? Please?”
“Only if you agree to give me babies.”
My tone took on a more serious edge as I watched the emotions fly across his face.
“Perri, you pregnant…your belly filled with my seed…us giving your parents grandchildren…oh god there is little I want more.”
He pulled us behind one of the courtyard pillars and immediately embraced me.
“There is nothing…nothing I want more.”
We hugged for a long minute, soaking up the pain of our extended time apart while we were prevented from touching or sleeping together and transforming it into the balm our weary hearts needed.
I eventually pulled back for one last question.
“Michael?”
“Hmm?” He smiled, eyes bright and adoring.
“Remember when we were forced to hide in that bathtub to avoid danger?”
“Do I ever.” He grinned, lasciviously.
I slapped at his arm playfully as I blushed.
“What about it?”
“Well…do you remember what happened?”
Confusion flashed across his eyes as he realized my seriousness.
“Between us, or afterward?”
“Between us. Like literally between us.”
He grinned, suddenly remembering how our orgasmic fluids wetted and mixed in the space between us, initiating the first step of a union that only grew stronger with each passing day.
I continued, needing to get to the point.
“Well, are you aware of what happens when folks enjoy each other without protection?”
“Baby, just tell me what you want me to know. It’s okay, whatever it is. I promise.”
“Michael … I’m pregnant.”
The words fell out of my mouth like lead weights. The look on his face went from a stunned and incomprehensible shock…to incredulity…to rapidly dawning awareness.
“You mean when we—”
I nodded, eyes closing shut as I grinned, blissfully happy he had finally understood.
“Perri! PERRI! You mean when we—when that—when our--?”
“Yes, Michael! When our fluids mixed somehow—”
Instantly I was being lifted up and twirled around as I laughed and he laughed and we both cried.
“Oh, beloved mother of all things holy—I must set you down!”
“Don’t be silly, I can’t break!” I laughed again as I felt a whoosh of relief that he was not put off and did not question that it was his.
I had been so afraid for nothing!
“Mary—I am going to call you Mary now! Talk about immaculate conception!”
He laughed joyfully and then pulled me to him and kissed me, risking the wrath of my father.
“You have just made me the happiest man alive.”
He pulled me in for another embrace and as I lay quietly held against his chest a tear slowly made its way down my cheek.
I sold myself for the love of me, and what I got in return was that, plus so much more.
So very, very much more.
Also, by Camille Alexander:
The Obsessed Billionaire Romance Series
The Brokerage Book 1
The Catacombs - Book 2
The Catacombs II - Book 3
The Catacombs III - Book 4
The Sentinel - Book 5
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