by Avery Laval
Khalid’s eyes seemed bright as well, she noticed, and it made her heart bend to see it. What must he be feeling right now? To think, for his entire life, he was alone, without family, discarded. But then to discover, all in one fateful morning, that he was part of a grand line of royalty? If Marissa didn’t know Khalid so well, she might have found it unbelievable. But it wasn’t hard to believe he was of royal blood. His broad shoulders and heavy brows, the powerful way he moved through life, his decisive manner—there was no question in her mind now that he was born to rule.
But where did that leave her? Or the unborn baby that might be growing this very second within her?
“Khalid,” the older man said, his voice firmer, as if he could somehow stifle the emotion bubbling within him with strength. “I know this must all come as quite a shock. But as I was telling you before Marissa arrived, there is no time to come to terms with the news. The time has come for you to step up to the responsibilities you were born into. Rifaisa cannot go another moment without knowing of your existence. The news will bring much-needed optimism for the future and quiet the factions who would scrabble for power when I am gone.” He clapped one tanned hand on Khalid’s powerful shoulder. “Grandson, it is time for you to come home at last.”
“Home,” Khalid repeated, and Marissa saw in his eyes a look of such longing it nearly made her heart break.
All her life she’d had her family, all those brothers within reach whenever she needed them. For the first time in his life, Khalid was being offered that same blessing. She could hardly ask him not to grab it with both hands.
Mr. Abbasi smiled. “Yes, home. My jet is waiting at the airport. You and I will be on our way to Rifaisa by noon today.”
Marissa’s heart clutched. “Noon!” she cried. “But I. We.” She hardly knew how to protest.
“He’ll be back,” the older man said, his voice now a soothing balm. “It will only be a month, maybe two. He’ll merely come, get acquainted with the kingdom and his family—and his duties—and then he can decide where to live, and who to bring into his new life.”
There was something about the way he worded that last bit that made Marissa terribly uncomfortable, but she stifled her fears. Khalid would come back for her; of course he would. It was impossible to doubt the love they shared.
Khalid once again took her by the hand, and then moved around to take her other hand in his and lock his eyes with hers. She searched his dark eyes for answers. Was this what he wanted? Would he come back for her? His eyes seemed so confident, so warm, almost glittering with excitement. Even knowing he was suddenly a powerful sheikh, he seemed the same devastatingly handsome man she’d fallen in love with a year ago. The man who’d made her wildest dreams come true by telling her he loved her back.
“Grandfather,” Khalid said, not removing his gaze from hers. “We need a moment of privacy, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” the older man said, and he moved into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
When they were alone, Khalid ran one hand through Marissa’s curly brown hair, pushing a lock that had fallen over her eyes back behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her face when he was done. “Beautiful girl,” he whispered. “I hardly know what to say.”
Say you’ll stay here with me! Marissa thought for a moment, but she shook those thoughts away. It would be too selfish to ask such a thing of him. “Say you’ll come back for me,” she said at last, letting two tears escape from her eyes.
“I’ll come back for you,” he said, his voice thick and low. “But I have to go. I have to see what this is all about. All my life I’ve wanted to know who I came from—where I belonged. This is my chance.”
“Of course,” Marissa said, but inside she was warring with herself. Should she tell him about the pregnancy test now? What if he left, went halfway across the world, and she discovered she was pregnant? How would she break the news? On the phone?
But what if it was all a false alarm? Telling him she might be pregnant now would turn his world upside down, when it was already spinning off its axis almost uncontrollably. No. She would wait until she knew for sure. Then she could tell him in person, when he came back. The thought of it gave her a thrill. She imagined him returning to Las Vegas a newly made sheikh, taking her in his arms. And then she would tell him the exciting news that they were soon going to welcome another member of the Abbasi line.
The fantasy gave her a secret smile. She used it to look into his eyes and let him go, as she knew she must. “Go, Khalid,” she said, working to hold her voice steady. “I will miss you with all my heart, but the world is small these days. We can text, and call, and videochat whenever we want. And before we know it, you’ll be ready to return to me.” She tipped up her head to him, and he bowed his down and captured her lips in a searing kiss that reminded her how incredibly precious their love was.
“Thank you, beautiful girl,” he said, when their lips at last parted. “I love you, forever.” And then he gave her another kiss and held her tight for a slow, quiet moment, and then with one last long look, he picked up the bag he always brought with him to her apartment, with his laptop and cell phone tucked away inside, and then he was gone.
When the door closed behind him, Marissa sank to the hardwood floor, feeling suddenly exhausted, as if she’d run a marathon, and not simply kissed Khalid goodbye. He would be back, she reminded herself once, then again and again, until she realized she was weeping. Had she made the right choice not to tell him what she suspected? Yes, she decided with finality. He had already had so much shock today. Adding this to the list would only make it harder for him to do what he had to do—go to Rifaisa and learn where he came from. If he thought she were pregnant, he would have insisted on staying, and that would forever be on her conscience. She’d done what was best for Khalid.
But what was best for her?
Gathering her strength, Marissa stood, and crossed to the counter where she’d left her purse only a few minutes ago—though it felt like a lifetime. Inside, the pregnancy test was waiting in its soft pink box with the illustration of the words “Yes” and “No” in white bubbles across the front. She slipped the test from her purse and looked at it for a long time, debating whether she should take it now or wait until the shock of this morning’s events had worn off. But she couldn’t wait another moment. She was dying to know. So she removed the plastic covering on the box and opened it up, removing one packet wrapped in white paper. The instructions were simple, printed in friendly icons across the top of the packet. Two minutes, said the label. In two minutes’ time, she’d know if she was carrying the son or daughter of a sheikh.
She rolled her lips together, thinking again of telling Khalid the good news. In her mind’s eye, she was picking him up at the airport, standing on the tarmac, not caring about the gusts of wind around them or the noisy thunder of the jet engines in every direction. She would kiss him, and then rise up on her tiptoes so she could whisper the news in his ear. “We’re pregnant,” she would say, and then he would pick her up and spin her around and they would both cry with joy. Marissa closed her eyes for a moment, picturing it in such detail that she thought for a moment she could make it real.
But when she opened her eyes, she was still standing in her tenth-floor apartment, clutching the pregnancy test like her life depended on it. And Khalid was still gone. So she took a deep breath, dried her tears, and walked straight into the bathroom, ready to find out the truth.
1
Cairo, Three Years Later
The Four Seasons Hotel Cairo was a bustling place, full of energy and life and sights so beautiful they seemed almost unreal. On one side of the building, picture windows draped with lush embroidered curtains displayed magnificent views of the famous Nile River, where the city lights of Cairo danced off the surface of the water and suggested a magical quality to the place worthy of all of the legends. On the other side, a verdant sea of trees, and far off on the horizon, the pointed tip
s of the pyramids, jutting over the tops of the leaves. The view took Marissa’s breath away. Never in her life had she seen such amazing sights—and all in one place. Though she missed her family already, she wished that the conference she was attending here would last three weeks instead of just the three days that were scheduled. She could spend at least that long exploring this amazing city.
But she was here with a purpose, she reminded herself. Ever since she’d been promoted to marketing manager of her brother’s wildly successful contracting company a year and a half before, she’d been constantly busy with the demands of the job. And that was a good thing—it took her mind off of the heartbreak that had chased her around for almost three years, leaving it hard for her to sit still for even a moment without being overcome by regret and sadness.
But sitting still in Cairo certainly wouldn’t be an issue. There was so much to do here, and on top of all of the things she wanted to see, there were several important meetings at the conference that could net Madden Construction a fortune. There was no question of her mission here.
But first, Marissa thought with a sigh, she needed a long, hot shower. The trip from Las Vegas had been an exhausting one, with a long layover in New York and then an overnight flight that had left her completely disoriented. She looked at her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, reminding herself that though it felt like early morning, it was actually just after noon, and time for lunch. The thought of eating seemed impossible, but she knew the best way to get over jet lag was through regular meals. Her shower would have to wait just a little longer.
With a sigh, she checked in, asking that her bags be sent up to her room ahead of her and retrieving a book to read over lunch first. Then she made her way to the lushly appointed restaurant, checking herself out in one of the full-length mirrors that flanked the elevators, reflecting the enormous floral displays over and over again and making the halls seem even larger than they were. Her traveling clothes had served her well, she thought. The long black trousers and topaz blue tunic she’d changed into near the end of the flight were only slightly creased, and she’d tied up her dark brown curls in a low, loose ponytail, with a silk scarf serving as a headband to keep the unruliest hairs in place. All told, she looked very presentable for someone who’d been traveling since time began, she decided with some satisfaction. Certainly nice enough for a quick lunch, even at the Four Seasons.
The hostess at the restaurant was gracious, and seated her at a distant, quiet table right by one of the enormous windows, so that she could watch the Nile trickle by slowly just a few feet from where she ate. Smoked salmon and fresh fruit squeezed with lemon and drizzled in yogurt were the closest things to breakfast food she could think to order, but when they came, she found room in her stomach for only a few bites before resting her fork on the edge of the large plate and focusing on a soothing cup of tea. She was lost in her book, planning to try again with her food after a moment’s respite, when she stopped, mid-sentence, feeling a sudden urge to look up and around.
When she did, her breath was taken away by a sight even more disarming than the one out the window.
“Khalid,” she whispered softly to herself. It was as if she’d felt his presence the moment he’d walked into the dining room. Dressed in an immaculate business suit and dark crimson tie, he stood perhaps thirty feet away, by the hostess stand, lost in conversation with a shorter, less interesting man whom Marissa didn’t recognize. Undetected, she stared openly at the man she’d once loved more than life itself. A man she hadn’t seen in three long years.
Time had changed Khalid little. He still took up more space in the room than any man had the right to, with his broad shoulders, strong chest, and a stance that spoke of power and confidence. And he still had the shock of dark, dark hair that she had so loved running her fingers through. But on his face there were new lines near his eyes—the creases, she suspected, of duty and responsibility. She knew from her favorite news websites that he was the royal heir to the tiny exclave of Rifaisa, with its shipping port that housed every oil tanker making its way from the Middle East to Europe at least once in both directions. No doubt, his obligation was a large one. Surely he was a very busy man.
He’d certainly been too busy for her, she thought with a pang. At first, when he’d left her to visit Rifaisa and meet his biological family, they’d texted and talked on the phone every day. But within a few weeks, the emails had slowed, and after two months, the calls grew rarer and rarer still. He’d become so engrossed in his new life as a sheikh that he’d found less and less time for Marissa. Surely, she imagined, her little life in America would have seemed so boring and pedestrian to him, the more he learned of his noble birthright. But still, she had believed he would come back for her as soon as he was able to get away.
And then, after three months of separation, the accident. Just the merest thought of that time nearly brought tears to her eyes. She’d been devastated, unable to talk to anyone. Even Khalid. She’d hidden away in her parents’ home, speaking to no one, hardly able to even eat for months and months.
When the grief had finally worn off enough for her to face the outside world, it was too late. The news had been all over the Web, even in a few of the tabloids. Pictures of the opulent wedding had been featured in The New York Times.
Marissa looked around, scanning the restaurant, hoping the hurt and heartbreak didn’t read on her face. Where was Khalid’s new wife? she wondered. Was she here, in this very room, within shouting distance of the woman he’d left alone in America? The dining room was full, but Marissa saw no one who met her description—glamorous, beautiful, mysterious—and brought her eyes back to Khalid.
And found, when she did, that he was staring intently right back at her.
When Khalid Abbasi laid eyes on Marissa Madden, sitting in front of a beautiful view of the lazy Nile, his first emotion was anger. How dare she come here, to his side of the world, he thought—until he realized the foolishness of such a sentiment and scolded himself. Cairo was hundreds of miles from Rifaisa, and there was no way she could have known he’d be here today. Even some of his closest advisors didn’t know he was here. He’d told them he was going to spend some quiet time with his ailing grandfather. But Abdul-Malik knew Khalid was really in Cairo, trying to broker a very tenuous trade agreement with a pair of brothers, sheikhs from a landlocked area near Rifaisa, a place that needed port access but had a history of contentious relationships with the leaders of Khalid’s land. A deal was by no means a sure thing, but if he was successful, it could mean a huge increase in port tax revenues for Rifaisa, and in turn, more prosperity for his people. He couldn’t let news of it leak to the media and chance raising the hopes of the entire country without justification.
Even so, it was an important deal, and there was no one on earth he was less happy to see here than Marissa. The very sight of her threatened his composure, risked his focus. She looked as beautiful as ever. When her large, blue-green eyes locked with his, her full lips parted slightly in surprise. He remembered drawing his fingers over that face, stroking her lips softly, kissing each of her eyelids, and then leaving a trail of kisses down her face at night, before they fell asleep. The memory left a bitter taste in his mouth.
There was nothing for it. He’d have to go over there, greet her, make nice, and be done with it. Tomorrow he would be gone from here and never have to see her—or think of her betrayal—again. He squared his shoulders and headed straight for her table, not noticing as he walked away from one of his advisors mid-sentence.
It took just a few moments to cross the room with his long strides, and he did not break eye contact with her the entire time. She too, kept her eyes steady, looking down for only a moment right as he appeared at her table.
“Khalid,” she said, her voice quieter, more unsure than he remembered it.
“Good afternoon, Marissa. It’s such a surprise to see you here in Cairo.”
She swallowed. “And you, as well. Are y
ou here on business?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said dismissively. He had little time for anything but state business these days. “And you?”
“A conference,” she said, her chin raising slightly as she spoke, a habit he had found so endearing way back when. “For Madden Construction.”
“You work for your brother now?” he asked.
“Yes. Ever since...” her voice trailed off. “It’s been about two and a half years. I’m Knox’s marketing manager.”
Khalid exhaled slowly. “I see. The company is doing well, then?”
Marissa nodded slightly, not breaking eye contact. “Very well, thank you. Still growing, albeit cautiously in this economic environment. I’m meeting with a few potential new accounts here.”
“Will you be in Cairo long?” he asked, wishing he didn’t care so much about her answer, wondering how she still managed to affect him so.
“Just three days,” she said, a wistful tone in her voice. “It’s such a beautiful city. I wish I had longer to see all the sights.”
Khalid scoffed. “I’m sure there will be no shortage of men lining up to show you around.” He hoped she understood his cold tone.
“Maybe,” Marissa said slowly, her eyes looking upward as if she were thinking of something. Then she added, more to herself than him, “But none of them are you.”
The words took him aback. That she could pretend to still care for him, even after her betrayal, irked him to no end. “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
