The Black Sheep Sheik

by Dana Marton

  So she liked the man behind the trappings of royalty. Optimism spread through him. “I’m a normal, everyday person. Behind the title, I’m just a man.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  “Then don’t overcomplicate it.”

  She closed her eyes. He kissed one lid and moved to the other. He wanted her, now, in every way a man could want a woman. Except, he wasn’t sure how that would work with the baby. He reached for the last of his restraint. For now, the feel of her in his arms would have to be enough.

  But she seemed intent on denying him even this. She placed a hand against his chest and pushed him away. “Don’t do this.”

  “I can’t seem to help myself.” That she wasn’t as happy about them finding each other again as he was stung. Isabelle no longer wanted him. Frustration welled in his chest.

  He kept an arm around her. “Sleep. All this running around cannot be helpful in your condition.”

  “I’m the doctor here. I give the rest orders,” she mumbled. But soon her breathing evened and she was asleep.

  He watched her for a while in the moonlight. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She had delicate cheekbones and shapely brows, blazing eyes when they were open. Her mouth was a thing of beauty, her full bottom lip much abused. When she was nervous, she had a tendency to chew it, the only sign of weakness she ever allowed.

  She was intelligent, practical, with a brave spirit. She’d handled that chase as well as one of his security guards. She’d found them shelter and food. No, she was not obedient. But if she were anything less than what she was, they would probably be dead by now.

  He thought that revelation over. She was what she was, and truth be told, he liked what she was. More than liked. She wouldn’t be an accessory on the throne, by his side. She would be a partner. Yes, he had taken on the yoke of ruling willingly and had expected to shoulder it alone. But the thought of her being by his side all through it suddenly made him feel lighter than he had since his parents’ death. She would make an amazing princess, if only he could make her see that.

  He would. First thing tomorrow morning. They would be safe at the resort and his friends would be there to help him. No mortal woman could resist that much charm. The five of them together were a force to be reckoned with. She would see reason.

  He rose quietly and moved to the window without making a sound, scanned the street. He couldn’t see the black van. He picked up a stack of chairs and blocked the back door, just in case. Then he went back to Isabelle and wrapped his arm around her again, breathing in her sweet scent.

  He fell asleep with visions of her on the throne, next to him, in his arms in the royal ballroom, twirling to the music, in his bed—naked. She laughed that laugh of hers that warmed his heart like nothing on earth could. She came into his arms willingly. He sank deeper into the dream.

  He woke to the sun shining into his eyes. Isabelle’s place next to him was empty. Only a stack of coins and a note waited for him.

  The bar across the back alley will open in a couple of hours. They have a pay phone. Call your people. Be safe.

  He bolted straight up, swearing like a desert bandit.

  His future princess had left him.

  Chapter Five

  Her car had been stolen.

  Isabelle groaned with frustration as she looked up and down the alley where they’d left the vehicle the night before. Nothing. Okay, don’t think stolen. Her mind had a habit of going to the worst-case scenario, an occupational hazard. In the O.R., she had to think in terms of the worst-case scenario at each and every surgery and imagine exactly what she would do if that happened. In the O.R., she had to be ready for whatever came her way. Right now, however, she needed some positive thinking.

  Think towed. Towed would be manageable.

  The bar wasn’t open yet, so she couldn’t go use their pay phone. Nor would she have wanted to run into Amir in there. She had to find another phone. Without being seen by whomever was after Amir.

  She walked back out of the alley and headed for one of the busier streets. She was still wearing the nurses’ uniform. She sidled into the first clothing store she found, Lainey’s Western Outfitters, and bought a large shirt, plus a cowboy hat that hid her pinned-up hair and most of her face. She picked up a pair of large hoop earrings, which provided a little more cover and distraction.

  She didn’t exactly look stylish, but at least she didn’t look like she had when that black van had pulled into her front yard. She even exchanged her red purse for a brown one with horseshoe prints on the side and tassels on the bottom. If those men caught sight of her on the street, they might not recognize her like this. Honestly, she barely recognized herself.

  “You wouldn’t have a public phone in here, would you?” she asked the gum-chewing salesgirl after she paid.

  “Sorry.”

  Figured. “A phone book?”

  “Got that.” The girl, seventeen or eighteen, slapped the big yellow book on the table, then pushed back her pink-glittered cowboy hat a little.

  “I think my car was towed,” Isabelle explained, trying to remain positive, as she flipped through the pages. Dumont was a pretty decent town with not much of a crime rate.

  A few seconds passed before she found the right page. Only one towing outfit in town. That made things simple. She copied the phone number onto the back of her store receipt.

  The salesgirl pulled a cordless phone from behind the counter and set it in front of Isabelle. “Might as well call. The boss probably won’t mind a local number.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You can’t be walking around all day. Us knocked-up girls have to stick together.”

  And sure enough, now that Isabelle looked, she did see a little baby bump hanging out of the skimpy top that left too much of the salesgirl’s breasts and midriff bare.

  She made the call and confirmed that they had her car. Yea for positive thinking. She could pick it up anytime for a fifty-dollar fee. She was so relieved, she didn’t even mind the money.

  “Wanna call your man to come and pick you up?” the girl offered when Isabelle handed the phone back.

  “Thanks. No man.”

  “Mine’s out on the rodeo circuit. He’ll be back in two weeks.” The girl smiled and her crooked front teeth made her look even younger.

  “What’s your due date?”

  “End of winter, I think.”

  “Hasn’t your doctor told you exactly?”

  “I only work here a few hours a week. I don’t make that much money.”

  “The hospital has a free prenatal clinic. If you go in, they’ll give you a checkup at no cost. They also have free vitamins.”

  “Yeah? Maybe. Whatever.” The gum in her mouth kept snapping.

  Isabelle held back the urge to push and prayed that the girl would do the right thing. She thanked her for all the help, then shrugged into the oversize shirt and put on her hat before she left the shop, looking carefully up and down the street. Didn’t see anyone suspicious. Which didn’t mean that they weren’t out there. She kept her head down and her neck tucked in, wondering how come, if rodeo daddy had money to travel the circuit, he didn’t have money for prenatal vitamins.

  She stopped. Turned around. Walked back to the store and popped her head in the door. “Forgot to tell you. If you keep going to the free clinic, toward the end they give you a bunch of formula for the baby.”

  “Sweet.”

  Okay. That was all she could do. She waved at the girl and went on her way.

  Amir wanting to take care of her and the baby didn’t sound so terrible and controlling all of a sudden. Would she have liked him better if he had refused to even consider paternity and taken off running? Probably not. Okay, definitely not. She did like that he was honorable through and through. If only he weren’t so absolutely pigheaded.

  He was probably awake by now. Or maybe not. Coma patients tended to need a lot of sleep for a couple of days after they awakened.
Of course, he was tougher than most anyone she knew. He’d be red-hot mad at her for leaving. But he would call the rest of the royals at the resort, they’d come with heavy security to pick him up and he would be safe.

  She couldn’t let him be part of her life. He was too much. He would take control. And no matter how hard she fought against that, she would eventually let him, because some part of her was tired of fighting life’s battles alone and would be grateful to hand over the reins and feel taken care of and protected even if for a short break.

  It was her dirty little secret. She, Isabelle Andrews, self-sufficient and independent surgeon, wanted a man in her life and his shoulder to lean on when she needed it.

  Except that never worked. Believing in something like that would bring nothing but disappointment and grief. She’d seen her mother walk that treacherous path.

  She walked up the street and into the first diner she came across, ordered a toasted sesame-seed bagel with ham and eggs. Plus a tall glass of orange juice. Then she waited, watching for the black van through the window, but thank God, she didn’t see it. She didn’t have to wait long before someone she knew walked in.

  Sue Kim, the dry cleaner’s wife, ordered coffee, then went to sit in the back.

  Isabelle waddled over. Seemed like her belly had somehow grown an extra size overnight. Or maybe the baby was lying in a different way. The bottom of her belly felt tight today.

  “Isabelle?” Sue peered under the cowboy hat. “Are you going to a party?” She eyed the semi-cowboy, semi-nurse outfit doubtfully.

  “Long story. How are you, Sue?”

  “Lilly got into Harvard. Did I tell you that?” She said “Harvard” without saying any of the r’s, and with a slight Korean accent. “She’ll be big doctor.” Her face beamed with pride.

  “Congratulations. That’s wonderful,” Isabelle said sincerely.

  “How are you? When the baby coming?”

  “Very soon. I’m supposed to go and see the doctor this afternoon. They check me every other day now. Of course, I just got my car towed. I was hoping I could ask you—”

  “Towed?” Sue seemed outraged on her behalf. “I take you pick it up.”

  The waitress was coming with the coffee, but Sue waved her back, already standing. “I’ll come back. I go now. Pregnant lady needs help.”

  Isabelle tried to protest that there was no great urgency, but Sue wouldn’t hear of it. They were in the white dry-cleaner minivan before Isabelle could blink, flying down the road at a speed that defied a race-car driver, Sue cursing the busybodies at the towing company all the way.

  “I miss your father,” she said, then suddenly, out of the blue, added, “He a good man. You need a good man like that for your baby. You want me introduce you?”

  Isabelle hid the twinge of panic with a smile. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Waiting for the father of the baby to come back. He will. You good woman.”

  They were at their destination before Isabelle would have had to come up with a response to that, thank God. Sue offered to wait until everything was settled, but Isabelle declined with thanks, sending her back to her coffee and her business. She didn’t want to impose on the woman’s time more than she had to.

  She would get her car, go home, change, call the royals at the resort and tell them where she’d left Amir, in case for some reason Amir couldn’t call for himself. He had said that his friends could be trusted. She wanted to make sure he was all right. Then she would work some more on the baby’s room. The thought of that put a true smile on her face.

  But as she turned to scan the lot, she froze on the spot. A black van was parked by the corner, hidden behind a sign for the towing company. A very familiar black van. She tried to look as non-pregnant and unlike herself as possible as she hurried across the enormous lot—keeping waddling to a minimum, ignoring the hundreds of cars, making a beeline for the office inside a rusty metal shipping container.

  “Hi. I called a few minutes ago about an SUV that was picked up yesterday?”

  The air inside smelled musty even with the door and window open. But at least she was out of sight and could breathe easier for the time being. The transaction was pretty straightforward, lasting less than five minutes. She showed ID and paid the fee, signed the papers.

  The old man behind the beaten-up desk stopped chewing tobacco long enough to tell her where her car was. “Nothin’ personal, little lady. People call that the road is blocked, we come out.” He gave a toothless grin as he rocked back in a chair whose plastic seat cover was peeling.

  When she exited the makeshift office, the sinister-looking black van was still waiting by the corner. She tugged her hat over her eyes and walked as fast as she could, heaved her swollen body into the car and locked the doors, shoved the key into the ignition.

  Then screamed as a large shape shifted in the back, her rearview mirror showing the silhouette of a man.

  “It’s me. Sorry,” Amir said. “I didn’t want anyone to see me while I was waiting. I’m driving this time. Slide over.”

  Of course, she had to get out and go around. Her belly didn’t exactly slide around in tight places.

  “How did you get here?” She might have glared a little. She was annoyed that he’d found her so easily, and her heart was still going a mile a minute from the scare he’d given her.

  “Went back to the alley where we left your car.” He climbed forward and situated himself behind the steering wheel. For the well-built man that he was, he was certainly flexible. “Talked to the woman whose house we ran through. She was bringing out the garbage. I told her I was a friend of Brian’s, and she was more than helpful. She told me about the tow truck.”

  “The black van is out front.”

  His lips flattened. “Wasn’t there when I came. Did they follow you?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know. They could have. It’s not like I’ve been trained in how to spot a tail.”

  He thought for a minute. “We will leave through the back.” He drove away from the office and toward the back of the lot, where a flimsy gate interrupted the chain-link fence. “I will buy you a new car,” he told her, then gunned the engine.

  A second later the gate was history and they were speeding down a secondary road toward the highway.

  She screamed only a little. “This is my car! Are you crazy?” She did smack him on the shoulder before she could catch herself. Yes, she knew he was royalty, but at the moment, she so didn’t care. The man was beyond reckless. He was certifiably crazy.

  He kept his eyes on the road, with an occasional glance at the rearview mirror. He was focused completely on what he was doing, and doing it well. He could have been a super spy straight out of a movie. On one level she found that reassuring; on another it was extremely infuriating.

  “Would you rather they shot us?” he asked after a few seconds.

  She had enough sense not to argue his point. She hated how annoyingly levelheaded he stayed, no matter what. She used to be levelheaded. Composed and together at all times, ready for any emergency at the hospital. Until those pregnancy hormones took over. She no longer recognized herself these days.

  She no longer recognized her life, that was for sure. Was she really the person who had hidden a foreign sheik in her father’s cabin for the last month and was now becoming a fugitive with him, running from God-knew-what kind of criminals, instead of heading to the nearest police station? She needed to have her head examined. Among other things. “I still have that doctor’s appointment today, and I’m not skipping it.”

  Which reminded her that she hadn’t taken her vitamins yet today. As she reached for the bottle she kept in the glove compartment, pain sliced through her belly. She winced.

  As usual, Amir didn’t miss a thing. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not exactly,” she told him but then sucked in a deep breath as another cramp came, this one much stronger than the first.

  “We’re clear.” Amir was looking into
the rearview mirror as he sped down the road.

  But at the very first crossroad, the black van was there, waiting. Amir sailed through the red light. Isabelle grabbed the door for support.

  They turned down the first street, zigzagged among buildings.

  “What is it?” Amir looked at her hand on her belly.

  The pain had stopped, but… “It feels funny.”

  “Are you having the baby?”

  Throughout the chase, and even during the shoot-out at the cabin the day before, he had remained stoic, but now she could see fear flash across his face.

  “No.” She wanted to reassure him.

  Then again, she also owed him the truth. “Okay, maybe.”

  His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “I’m taking you to a hospital.”

  “Let’s get rid of our company first,” she said as the black van reappeared in the rearview mirror once again. They had incredibly sucky timing. This was so not how she had pictured embarking on the great adventure of the miracle of childbirth. If that was what was happening.

  Amir took a sharp right.

  She had the door handle in a death grip. “How did they find us?”

  “They either followed one of us or left a man to watch your car. They could have expected us to return for it. They saw it being towed.” He shook his head. “I checked before I snuck in. Nobody was around then.”

  “They must have gotten here after you already made it in.” Just in time for her. Peachy. “Does this happen to you a lot? This is very stressful. How do you live like this?”

  “Assassination attempts? Hardly ever.”

  Once was too many for her. “How many times so far?”

  “Twice,” he said without the least emotion on his face. “And the second one might have been just a misunderstanding.”