by Ella Brooke
Patrick stared at her for a moment, and then he threw his arms around her tight, murmuring a jumble of words of thanks, praise and love.
Natalie didn't know if he had tamed her or if she had made him wild. All that mattered was that they had each other, and that their love reached out to encompass all that they were.
THE END
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Sheikh’s Secret Children
By Sophia Lynn
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Sheikh’s Secret Children
By Sophia Lynn
All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2017 Sophia Lynn.
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Chapter One
It really is such a pretty night, Annabel Lister thought wistfully. For Brooklyn, it was quiet, with fewer people on the sidewalk than was typical. The brisk crisp cold had driven them all inside, she figured, and as she walked along the sidewalk, small perfect snowflakes began to fall.
As she walked, Annabel shrugged a little further into her coat. It was too large for her, but it was heavy wool, which made it fantastically warm. It was a hand-me-down from a boss who had been looking to donate it a few years ago, and before she could think twice about it, Annabel had fished it out of the bags of donations he was going to send off the moment his back was turned. Once she had belted it with an old black scarf that she had found, it fit passably well, even if it had made Marissa giggle that she looked like a bear.
"Oh, and don't you know that bears love to eat little girls for dinner? Raaaar!"
Marissa had shrieked with laughter as Annabel had raced after her, and they had almost spilled a vase of flowers all over their small living room, but Annabel could hardly be sorry for something that made her daughter that happy.
Annabel's smile dropped from her face as she thought of the time when she had chased her little daughter around the apartment, racing about until both of them were out of breath. These days, Marissa was often too pale and too tired for very much at all, and it made Annabel's heart ache.
A tall man, a small and slender woman by her side, jostled her elbow as they went past, nearly sending Annabel spinning into the gutter next to the sidewalk. She grumbled at them, but didn't do much more as she righted herself and kept on walking. She did however, risk a wistful glance behind her as the couple chattered happily, retreating down the street.
Iain had never been the sort to escort her down the street like that young man was doing. He hadn't been one for going out or even one for telling the world he had a girlfriend, but even though it was ended and she was happy for it, Annabel couldn't help but think of a time when she had been part of a couple. She had Marissa, of course, and she had many friends and acquaintances throughout the city, but there was something to the idea of being part of a team, having someone watch your back, and having someone who was in it the same way that you were...
Annabel realized that she likely should have been keeping an eye on where she was going over mooning over things that she did not have. The impact of walking into the man was a bit like hitting a large and well-padded truck. She yelped and just barely managed to stay on her feet, but then her papers, which she had brought home to look over that weekend, sprayed all over the sidewalk.
"Oh no," she groaned, kneeling to pick them up. They were important, and while she could print them out again if they were ruined, they also contained sensitive information, and she could not imagine that her employers would be thrilled to have them scattered over the avenues of Brooklyn.
For some reason, despite the fact that she had not been having a terrible day, despite the fact that she knew that she was a lucky woman with a great deal going for her, this was a last straw. She stubbed her fingers trying to get at the papers that the wind was beginning to toss around, and her eyes filled with tears. Sometimes, things were just too much, and she felt as if she were at a breaking point.
Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, there was someone else helping. For a moment, Annabel was so surprised that she froze, a sheaf of papers in her hand.
He was a tall man, a touch over six feet with dark tousled hair. Even at a glance, she could tell that his black wool coat was cashmere, and his dark jeans suited him well enough that they must have been tailored for him.
She took all of that in at a glance, and then to her shock, he darted into the street after a piece of paper that was scuttling away. She shouted a warning as his dedicated chase brought him straight into the path of a produce truck, and right before he was going to be struck, he danced out of the way, the offending piece of paper in his hand.
With a bow that struck her as ridiculous gallant, he offered her the sheet of paper, which she took with a shaking hand.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded, her voice instead. "You could have been killed!"
He froze for a moment, and she realized that he was Middle Eastern, his features bold and surprisingly sensuous for a man. It seemed as if he could not decide whether he was angry or merely annoyed with her response, and then he started to laugh, shaking his head.
"This country," he said. "I risk my life for your papers, and this is what I get..."
Under her coat and her scarf, Annabel started to blush. She knew that she had behaved badly, but there was a part of her that said that she could not have borne it if this man had died right in front of her. She would have said that she didn't want anyone to die in front of her, but her mind was oddly specific in this case
"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled. "That was ungracious of me. I of course appreciate getting the paper back, and this one especially it looks like. However, it wouldn't have been worth losing you for it."
She had thought that she was embarrassed enough, but apparently not. She heard the words coming out of her mouth, and she blushed even harder as the man snorted in surprise.
"From shrew to concerned lover all in one step? Truly, American women are a mystery?"
"Oh really?" she retorted. "From nearly knocking an innocent woman onto her rear to chasing her paperwork for her? I would say that men from wherever you are from are no better..."
That got her another laugh, and he shook his head.
"Ah yes, I am the one who erred first, am I not?" he asked. "Well, then. I will say that I am Adil, and I suppose that in the grand scheme of things, I have represented my country very, very poorly. I apologize. I was not looking where I was going."
"Well... you're forgiven then, I suppose," Annabel said, taking a tighter hold on her bag containing the papers. "Just... maybe be more careful in the future, I guess..."
He laughed again, and it struck her that this laugh was a little less kind.
"Now that is not something that women tell me all that often," he said, and she felt a thrill run down her spine. She squashed it immediately, because she was 35 years old, dammit. She was no young girl to be seduced by a dangerous bad boy, and she certainly wasn't going to be picked up off of the street by a man who had nearly knocked her on her rear!
"How very nice for you," she said, putting a little bit of the frost she felt into her voice. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."
She started to walk around him, but to her surprise and irritation, he stepped in her way.
"What is your hurry?" he asked with an inviting grin. "Why not consider this fate? Two people, bumping into each other in this wretched night, that sounds like it could be the beginning of a magical evening."
She could have told him that magical evenings had gotten her into plenty of trouble in the past, but that would mean spending more time with him. She knew that the way her heart was beating q
uickly meant something, but she didn't have the time now to stop and to sort it out. It wasn't fear, and so for the moment, that meant that she could ignore it.
"Sorry, I have someone waiting for me at home."
His eye took on a decidedly wicked glint, and to her surprise and outrage, he stepped even closer. He was close enough that she could smell the sweet woodsy scent of his cologne, and then when he reached out to brush a strand of black hair away from her face, he didn't have to stretch out his arm.
"Are you sure they need to know?"
She was frozen by the strange spark that seemed to jump between them when his fingers brushed over her forehead. It seemed to shock him as well, because he drew his handy away in a hurry, the surprised look on his face perhaps the most genuine expression she had seen yet.
"All right, that is enough!" Annabel said, her voice rising in exasperation. "Thank you for helping me gather up my papers, which I would not have had to do if you hadn't run into me in the first place, and now I am saying goodnight! I have no interest in spending another moment with you, and if I had known that you were a... a cheater, I would have been a lot happier if you had gotten hit by that truck!"
To her surprise, his expression only dimmed for a moment before he smiled again.
"You are a woman of fire and spirit," he observed. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to offer those things to someone who can appreciate it?"
She was about to launch into a fierce tirade, but then she realized that it would never make a difference. This was not a man who changed. He was too well-off, too lucky, and too self-assured to do so. If his ridiculous lines didn't work on her, he would try them on someone else, and then they probably would work. After all, she should know.
"No. Good night. Get out of my way."
For a miracle he did, and making a sound of anger, she strode down the street, her papers clutched fiercely in her hand. When she rounded the corner, she could still see him standing where she had left him, looking after her, and she wondered if she had made an impression after all. Then Annabel started walking the final two blocks back to her home, and she put all thoughts of the handsome stranger out of his mind.
***
Adil al Mahsi shook his head, watching the woman in the enormous black coat scuttle off in high dudgeon.
Well, apparently in America, I am simply not as popular a commodity, he thought with amusement.
It was amusing because it was simply not true. He had been in New York City for the past three weeks, and everywhere he had gone, from exclusive warehouse parties to the height of culture in Manhattan, he had been welcomed and entertained. There were no end of blonds, brunettes and redheads who were interested in making time with the sheikh of Sakhi, but apparently, women in ridiculous winter outfits were immune to his charm.
Well, I suppose you cannot win all of them, Adil thought, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets, and he kept walking.
As he walked, however, Adil had to wonder at himself. As much as he would have liked to smirk and dismiss the entire incident from his mind, he found that he couldn't, not really. Why would a woman like that be so resistant to his charms? She wasn't even his type, he could tell that right away. She had to be at least in her thirties, and no socialite would wear clothes like the outfit she was wearing.
He had been the sheikh of Sakhi for more than fifteen years, and now at the age of forty, he was used to the best. However, one thing that he had discovered was that the best got boring. The respectable news sources had called him spirited and outgoing, while the gossip rags called him the top playboy of the Middle East, but in the end, it came down to the same thing. He was a man who demanded the best, and thanks to his money, his influence or some combination of the two, he usually got it.
That was, he mused as he walked, one of the things that had brought him to the United States. Like most people of his generation, he had grown up on Hollywood movies, and though he would never trade Sakhi for anything, there was something about the so-called land of rugged individualists that had called to him.
He had been disappointed when he realized that it was the same status-chasers and yes men as he ran into elsewhere, but unsurprised.
Perhaps it is time that I go home, Adil thought, looking up at the bright night sky. There are no secrets to be found here, though I would still be curious to see who that woman had at home that was so worth her time when I wasn't...
He wasn't quite ready to give up the solitude of the night, however, and so he walked. Adil this back in Sakhi as well, walking in neighborhoods where no one recognized him and where no one could hinder him from simply having a walk. He had heard that there was no place like New York in all the world, but Adil realized that this walk was also telling him that there was nowhere like Sakhi, either. He was homesick, and decided that the next day, he would make plans to return. He had not been able to find what he had sought in the United States, and when Adil thought about it, it had been something of a fool's errand in the first place. He shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his phone. A single touch to a particular button would summon his driver to where he was, but before he could do that, two men stepped out of the shadows, walking towards him menacingly, and he narrowed his eyes.
Chapter Two
"How is she tonight?" Annabel asked quietly, taking care not to let the apartment door slam behind her.
Doreen, the older woman from two floors up, pursed her lips and tucked her knitting into her bag.
"I asked her to lie down for a rest a little while ago," she said. "She put up quite a fuss, but she went, and I hope she is sleeping right now. She was looking a little peaked, and some rest would do her good."
Annabel sighed, because she knew what that meant. Instead of saying anything, however, she removed a small amount of cash from her purse and handed it to the older woman, trying not to flinch. It wasn't a large amount, but it was enough that it could mean groceries for the next few weeks.
"Thank you very much, Doreen," she said, helping the older woman up. "I should be able to work from home tomorrow, so I can look after her then."
She closed the door behind Doreen, and shedding her jacket and her shoes, she padded to the door with the gold star painted on it. She grinned wryly when she heard the distinct click of a flashlight being turned off, and then she knocked lightly. At the relieved 'come in!” she opened the door and entered.
Annabel had always been slightly regretful that her daughter had gotten her looks. Even at four, Marissa had her round face, her black hair, and her cloudy blue eyes. She would always hold that her daughter was the most beautiful little girl in the world to her, but she wondered if her daughter would have her own troubles with men. Of course, that was years off, and now Annabel came to sit next to Marissa on her small bed.
"Hey little pumpkin," she said. "You weren't reading in bed, were you?"
Marissa looked at her mother half-defiantly.
"I was," she said, and Annabel felt a little surge of pride that her daughter wasn't a liar. "Doreen said that I should lie down and be still in the dark for a while, but it was so boring! Anyway, I did what she said. It's dark and I was lying down."
"Ha, with a love of loopholes like that one, you would make a darned good lawyer some day," Annabel chuckled. "However, before you head for law school, maybe you'd like to come help me make up something good for dinner?"
Marissa brightened at that, slipping out of bed. The slender four year old was only wearing a thin nightgown, and Annabel offered her a robe that she put on with ill-grace.
"Can we make tacos?"
"Sure," said Annabel. "Let's see what we have to put in them..."
She was grateful that Marissa was still too young to see how simple and dull their meals were. It was a long sight better than nothing, and Annabel was proud of the fact that most nights it was decent food cooked at home, but it was a far cry from what other children living in New York might enjoy.
Annabel listened as Marissa chattered ab
out the things she and Doreen had done all day, starting with stories and going through drawing and a walk down the street. Annabel's hand stilled on the heating refried beans when Marissa frowned.
"We walked all the way down to the end of the block and back," she said. "We only had to turn back because I got so tired. I hate that, Mama. I miss going to the park."
"I know you do," Annabel said calmly, resuming her cooking. "But don't worry, you'll feel better soon."
Annabel often had a great deal of cause to be relieved that children oftentimes had a very short view of what was going around them. So far, Marissa had only noted that life was a little more difficult for her than it had been. She had noticed that they did not go out very often, and when they did, they never went all that far. So far, the doctors at the free clinic had not been able to tell them anything, but they were positive that a fix could be found.
Annabel finished the food and set a taco filled with refried beans, salsa and a sprinkle of cheese in front of her daughter. The one she set at her own plate was barely larger, but she told herself that was fine. She had had a surprisingly enormous bowl of chili at work. It was someone's birthday, and she hadn't been able to resist.
"Mama, when can I walk to the park again again?"
Annabel started to say something about being sure that Marissa would feel better soon, but her daughter looked her in the eye, her eyes stormy.
"No," she said. "When? Show me on the calender."
She pointed at the wall calender they had been given at the Chinese grocery, where they marked their appointments, their doctor's visits and their library due dates.
"No one knows, pumpkin," Annabel said. She was raising her daughter not to lie, and that meant that she couldn't lie to her either. "The doctors are working on what is going on, and hopefully..."
"Why don't they know yet?" Marissa insisted. "Isn't there someone who knows?"
