The Sheikh's Destiny

by Olivia Gates

  He’d joined to pay off his guardian’s debts. The army in Azmahar had been offering top recruits lucrative salaries and educational opportunities. Rashid had calculated he’d repay those debts in five years, get a better education than the one he’d been able to afford, and become a soldier, a career he’d always admired.

  Haidar and Jalal had tried to dissuade him. Hostilities had been brewing between Azmahar and Damhoor and they didn’t want him joining the army in time to be sent to war. But he’d made up his mind. And war had broken out.

  On one mission, his squad leader had led his troops astray in the desert. They would have perished if not for Rashid. Using what he’d learned alongside Haidar and Jalal in the harshest survival methods, he’d led his squad to safety. Laylah remembered those weeks when she’d nearly gone mad fearing for him. Zohayd and Judar had mediated peace. But that hadn’t been the end. She’d continued to go insane with worry as he’d fought in more armed conflicts.

  But Rashid had survived them all, done all he’d set out to do, obtained one degree and promotion after another. Then he’d disappeared.

  Haidar continued as if reading her thoughts. “You remember when he seemed to disappear? He’d started working in intelligence. And he discovered the threads of our mothers’ conspiracy.”

  Her heart, having expended all its force, flailed feebly as she realized that the coming revelation would be worse than anything she’d imagined.

  “He went undercover to get proof, told me he got a promotion and would be under the radar. Thinking he didn’t want to see me again, I told him I didn’t care if I never heard from him again.”

  A skewer twisted in her chest. How hurt Rashid must have been at the apparent lack of caring from his lifelong friend.

  Jalal exhaled. “But though we both treated his choice like brats who only cared they couldn’t have their friend around all the time, he was hoping that he was wrong about our mothers. Knowing what we do now, I’ll bet he considered you more in his efforts to find proof against the conspiracy. Instead, he only found incontrovertible proof against our mothers. He still decided to give us a chance to do something about it first.” Jalal dragged his hands down his face. “But on his way to see us, he was attacked and abducted.”

  She fell back in a nerveless mass. She’d been right. That first night had been like déjà vu for him.

  Haidar carried on. “His kidnappers were our mothers’ flunkies. They tortured him for the information he’d uncovered as well as for intel he had that our mothers’ needed to perfect their plans. At one point, he managed to call me. He was in such bad shape I thought he was drunk. He told me where he thought he was, begged me to help. I rushed over, but found nothing at that address. It was another of our mothers’ contingency tricks. They instructed his kidnappers to text me from that phone and apologize for calling me while drunk, before they destroyed it so that I couldn’t trace it.

  “Rashid thought I didn’t come to his rescue because I, and Jalal, were in on the conspiracy. Even though he was almost broken in mind and body, that agonized him so much, he struck back. He killed his captors and crawled across Zohayd’s desert to Damhoor’s border. The injuries those monsters had carved in his body—which were sliced open every time they started to heal—were so badly infected, he almost died. After spending weeks between life and death, he was stabilized, but no surgery could fix the scars. And I think his psychic scars ran deeper.

  “He couldn’t do anything about the conspiracy, since he’d lost all the evidence. When our mothers were exposed, he thought we’d pretended to abort their conspiracy so we could plot another day. Meanwhile he’d become friends with King Malek of Damhoor, and using his IT knowledge and intelligence techniques, Rashid developed an impenetrable defense system for him. King Malek offered him a ministry, but Rashid preferred to take his payment in hard cash to start his own business. And to pursue what had become his major goal—punishing us, by ‘assimilating our ill-earned achievements.’ He said he considered this a worse injury than exposing us, but I believe he was still unable to hurt us that badly. He’s far more mushy-hearted than any of us thought possible.

  “Then the chain reaction happened in Azmahar, and he was pitted against us for the throne of what he considered his kingdom. He decided he would do anything rather than let either of us take it. The rest you know.”

  Agony too great to find physical manifestation cleaved into her soul.

  Rashid...Rashid...all this time...

  “There’s more.” Her gaze slid sluggishly to Jalal. How could there be more? “There’s a reason he didn’t make it to his joloos.”

  She’d forgotten about that. She wished she could forget who she was. The daughter of the woman who’d mutilated the one man she’d ever loved.

  “He suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. He’d said it was under control, but he called us just now to say it’s back, making him unfit to be king. He told us to toss a coin to decide who will sit on the throne and who will be crown prince.”

  Jalal stopped, looking uneasily at Haidar.

  There could be nothing worse than what they’d already shared.

  Haidar let her know there was always worse. “He said he should have never come back, should have died in one of those wars or in the desert, that it would have saved everyone endless trouble. He also said he understands if you don’t want him near his child and he’ll abide by anything you decide.”

  Desperation drove her to her feet. “Where is he?”

  Haidar’s face twisted. “The place that means the most to him.”

  She jumped on that. “I heard he bought his old family home.”

  Jalal shook his head. “We thought that at first, but we realized that’s not where he’s been happiest.”

  “Then where?” she cried out.

  Haidar exhaled. “His Chicago loft.”

  * * *

  During the trip to Rashid’s loft, Laylah sank deeper in despair. What if Haidar and Jalal were wrong about his whereabouts? What if they’d been right, but he’d already left? She couldn’t dare believe their rationalization of why he’d go there. After all she and her family had put him through, how could he consider the place where they’d started their relationship to be the place where he’d been happiest?

  She’d come alone. She couldn’t bear for anyone to come with her to the one place she’d been her happiest. Where she’d been Rashid’s. Before the world had intruded and almost destroyed everything.

  A few steps into the vast loft had her battered nerves jangling. With that familiar pleasure that burned through them.

  Rashid was here.

  Then he materialized out of the darkness at the mezzanine.

  After staring down at her for an eternity, he started down the stairs. “You didn’t have to come. I’ll grant you the divorce and anything else you ask for.”

  “I—I’m not...I’m here to...” She swallowed the jagged lump of agony in her throat. Then she blurted out, “They told me everything.”

  Harshness replaced the blankness on his face. “I will make them regret telling you.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “You should never have known any of this.”

  “I had a right to know. It’s my mother who did this to you.”

  His face hardened more. “You had enough spoiling your memories and soiling your psyche where she is concerned. There was nothing to be gained if you knew more, and so much to be lost.”

  He’d been protecting her. When he should have used this to hit back at her, at least to defend himself.

  “What she did to me were the misdemeanors of an overbearing mother who didn’t know when to let her daughter breathe on her own. What she did to you was an unforgiveable crime.”

  The turbulence in his eyes ratcheted up. “And that’s why I didn’t want you to know. So you wouldn’t feel like this. I never wanted to add this to your disillusions.”

  And she couldn’t bear being away from him for one
more second. “Rashid...”

  He jerked away from her. “Don’t. Don’t touch me, don’t even come near me. It’s not safe. I’m not safe.”

  A sob hacked her chest. “Ya Ullah ya, Rashid...I’m so sorry...”

  “Don’t...” he gritted. “Don’t pity me. Just don’t.”

  She lunged at him, hugged him with all her strength even as he tried to push her away. “It’s not pity...ya Ullah...it’s rage and regret and pain so fierce it shreds my heart with every breath.”

  Trying to undo her frantic hold, he groaned, “No, Laylah. Don’t feel bad about it. You had nothing to do with this.”

  She clung harder. “It’s still my mother who did this to you.”

  His arms fell to his side, surrendering to her embrace. “It’s in the past. Let it go. I have.”

  She raised her face, seeing him blurred through the tears. “It’s very much in your present, in your future.”

  “I swear to you, it’s not.”

  “I know about your PTSD,” she sobbed.

  His headshake was adamant. “Memories of that ordeal are no longer what’s fueling my instability.”

  Tears slowed down. “What is then?”

  His shrug was forced. It told her he was going to lie. Then he did. “I guess it’s self-perpetuating now.”

  And she had to know. “Is that why you never slept with me?”

  His nod was difficult. “It’s why I don’t have anything around me when I sleep. I used to wake up with things broken, with sheets shredded and mattresses gutted with the shards.”

  He’d been killing his abusers over and over in his nightmares.

  “I couldn’t risk lashing out at you as I wrestled with my demons, even when I thought I had my condition under control. Then it was no longer under control, and I even had episodes while awake. I can no longer be around you.”

  “If memories aren’t why your PTSD flared, what is? Was it the stress of seeking the throne, the fear of losing it?”

  He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he let her see all the way into him for the first time. “It was the stress of seeking you, of having you yet not having you, and the fear of losing even that much of you. And I managed to fulfill my fears. I literally became Majnun Laylah, making it imperative to inflict your loss on myself. But then I lost you irrevocably that day you discovered my original plans. I only kept telling myself I might get you back. It was when I faced that I never would that my PTSD crashed back a hundredfold. You were the one who started me on the path to true healing and losing you has plunged me into worse than my worst days.

  “I thought everything inside me was long dead. But you resurrected it all, made me discover hopes, emotions and needs I never knew I had. I suddenly found myself dependent on another human being. It was glorious, yet scarier than any mortal danger I had ever been exposed to. Then—everything went to hell. Knowing I’d lost your respect, your love, that I had broken your faith and your heart, being unable to heal you, is something I can never heal from.”

  And she charged him, deluging him in tears and kisses and pledges. “You never lost me or my love. You never will as long as I’m still alive, since that’s all I am—love, for you. I was stupid and hurt and trying to protect myself. But I made that deal with you so I would still be with you, in hope that you’d love me someday, if only a fraction as much I love you. I’ve loved you forever, will love you forever.” She pulled away to look into his eyes, her heart twisting. “But how can you love me, after what my family, after what I did to you? You should hate me.”

  He suddenly sank with her in front of the extinguished fireplace where they’d shared such ecstasies, his face trembling, his eyes filling. “You did far less than what I deserved. And your family made up for everything they’d ever done by having you. I might even love them for it.”

  A laugh of incredulity burst through the upheaval. “Now don’t go overboard. But whatever you do, I will never forgive them.”

  He held her face between those callused hands that embodied tenderness and cherishing. “I need you to believe that one touch, one smile, one moment with you has atoned for all their crimes, has healed all my injuries. All I want now is for you to forget this and be at peace. If I have you, I have everything, past, present and future. I want only to be your lover and husband and father of our child.”

  “And king of Azmahar,” she blurted out.

  “Azmahar deserves someone unscarred inside and out.”

  “Azmahar needs you. And it’s your destiny to rule the kingdom you defended and almost died for, the kingdom you’ve taken back from the brink of destruction and will now lead to prosperity. And that kingdom chose you. Like I did. Because you are the absolute best. Even your rivals think that. Hell, even Amjad thinks that. You must take your throne.”

  “On my life and honor, I will do anything you ever demand. But why not wait and see if I am the best choice for Azmahar?”

  As she started to launch into another argument, he kissed her, silenced everything but the need to merge with him.

  Not knowing how, she found herself where he’d first made her his as he came on top of her on the mattress she’d made him return after she’d found it far superior to any bed.

  The next forever was consumed in finding their way back to each other, body, heart and soul.

  What felt like a lifetime of bliss later, he moved her sweat- and pleasure-drenched body on top of his, caressed her all over, paying special attention to the belly that was starting to round.

  “About the throne...” she began.

  He cut her off. “About the honeymoon we never had. How about you tell me where you want to have it?”

  She dove deeper into his embrace. “Right here. But...”

  “There are too many reasons not to think of the throne now.”

  “Your PTSD flared up on my account. It should subside now.”

  “Even if it does, I can’t be king. I need to be with you through your pregnancy and during our baby’s birth and first months. I will make up for both of our lifetimes of alienation.”

  She ran adoring hands and eyes down his beloved face. “Then you’ll consider taking the throne?”

  “How about we take this one day at a time?” He gave her back the words she’d given him in what felt like another life. “Let’s just savor this. What’s the rush?”

  “Uh...a kingdom with no king?”

  He waved it away. “Haidar and Jalal will hold down the fort. It’s good training in case one of them ends up on the throne.”

  As she opened her mouth, everything inside her stopped. At a sight she’d thought she’d never see.

  Rashid’s first full smile.

  “How’s that?” He tickled her out of her swooning. “Am I doing it right?”

  She melted even more. “If I thought your scowl heart-stopping, your smile is possibly life-threatening.”

  And he treated her to another first, his unbridled guffaw.

  “Ahh...” She lost all cohesion. “I’m gonna die!”

  Still exposing her to the incomparable beauty of his grin, he countered, “You’re gonna live. To love me and be loved by me.”

  Joy inundated her, that true ease had finally entered his heart and made his smile ready and laughter possible.

  Deciding not to push for the throne for now, she grinned widely back. “All I ever wanted is to be yours, and for you to be mine.”

  He illuminated her whole world and being with his delight and devotion. “Done. And done.”

  Epilogue

  Haidar and Jalal scowled at Rashid.

  He only raised serene eyes to them, grinning, delighted at how that still fazed them.

  Haidar blinked, as if to clear his eyes from a burst of light, and bit off the words, “You said a couple of months.”

  “And when was six months ever ‘a couple’?” Jalal added, folding his arms over his chest, looking as unsettled at seeing him smile.

  “You were both once intent on tak
ing on the job permanently. What’s so difficult about doing so for half a year?”

  Haidar huffed. “Since you landed the bid, we rearranged our lives accordingly, and you ran and left us holding the baby.”

  He shrugged. “I did so I can hold my and Laylah’s baby. And I’m not holding anything else until I do.”

  “Just give us a straight answer, damn you,” Haidar growled before sitting next to him, grabbing his shoulder, looking deeply into his eyes. “Are you really okay now?”

  “Far better than you can imagine.” Rashid smiled at him, an act that came so easily to him now. “I have my own miracle. And she’s providing me with another one...in about a week’s time.”

  Jalal sat on his other side. “Then we can be allowed to have a piece of you? You can be a husband, a father and a friend, too, you know. We’ve tried it and it works.”

  Rashid grinned at him. “If I don’t expire of happiness when our baby boy is born, I’ll squeeze you, and the throne, onto my list of priorities.”

  Haidar rolled his eyes. “Once we could never get you to crack a joke, now you’re almost rivaling Amjad, your biggest fan and our biggest pain in the ass, in being irreverent. Laylah isn’t a miracle worker, she’s a saboteur.”

  “You found out my true agenda!”

  As Haidar and Jalal turned whimsical gazes to their ribbing cousin, Rashid filled his sight with Laylah as she waddled down the stairs of their loft. She became more beautiful with every passing day.

  Firelight beamed off the brooch she almost always wore. His mahr. What he considered his mother’s gift to her.

  He had another gift for her now. One from her mother.

  He rose, looking at Haidar and Jalal. “It’s a good thing you’re here to hear this. I just learned this moments before you barged in.” His arms went around Laylah, the one being who encompassed the world to him. “I’ve been reinvestigating this ever since you came back to me. And today I made sure. Your mother had nothing to do with my kidnapping.”

  Tears surged into her eyes as her whole face trembled. “You’re not just—just...”

  “I only ever hid things I thought were no longer relevant, but I never and will never lie to you, ya mashoogati. It’s the truth. You can have your mother back now.”