I cupped his face and made him focus on me. He was still agitated, but I risked a kiss. I pressed my lips to his, and he made a sound of desperation and kissed me back.
“I wish I could throw you over my shoulder and hold you captive.”
I gave him a wry smile, “They don’t allow that anymore.” I kissed him again, and this time he responded with his hands on my cheeks, “Besides, that is exactly what I am afraid of. I’m not ready to give up my independence.”
“Will you ever?”
Chapter Three
Amir left me alone in the suite for a few hours. I don’t know where he went or what he did. When he returned, I was in bed. Our fight left me weary, and I took a nap. Without words, he angrily ravished me, bruising me with his need. It was as if he needed to physically make sure I felt his anguish. When he’d worn us both out, he made slow, tender, desperate love to me. I think we both cried. I was torn and confused and unable to process any of the ramifications that came with agreeing to marry such a powerful man. Especially a man who lived on the other side of the planet and wished to keep me as his alone—and as the mother to his children.
I never once wanted kids and even being married was something I found sort of archaic. My dream had always been to be my own woman and live the single life until I met Mr. Right. Or perhaps never marry or have children and be independent my entire existence. The thought of that now still intrigued me.
I could easily get into the dream of being alone, childless, and pursuing my career as a litigator in corporate law. If I even entertained the thought of marrying Amir and running off to the land of sand and sun, I cringed internally. This told me volumes about where my heart really was.
I also felt awash with sadness at the thought that I would lose him, and as I still warred with my two conflicting sides, he slid from my body and went to take a shower. When he returned, he was dressed fully in one of his nicest suits. I began to climb out of the bed to get ready to go out, and he halted me.
“I am returning to Abu Dhabi tonight. When you are ready to belong to me in the way I wish—you know how to reach me.”
“Amir! No!” I wailed and again tears fell.
“I will open an account for you to draw from. Anything you need for the baby. If you need more, just send me a note and it is yours.”
“I don’t care about the money, Amir. Can’t we talk about this? Amir? Please! I love you. I can’t lose you!”
He glared at me and pulsed his jaw. “Julie, you cannot have part of me as you wish. It is all or nothing, my love. I will be waiting for you. My heart belongs to you, and if me leaving and remaining faithful to you is what it will take, then I shall prove this to you.”
“Amir, no! I trust you. That isn’t what I meant! Amir, stop.”
He turned with his hand on the door. “The suite will be paid for until next weekend. Feel free to stay.”
He set his case down and came back to me. He brushed away some of my tears, but I was sobbing uncontrollably at this point.
“You are the love of my life, Julie, but I am unwilling to dance this dance with you. You are mine, and until you offer yourself to me as such—fully giving me your life—surrendering this stubborn, iron will of yours—I am unwilling to play at being half in and out of your life.”
“But—but—the baby?” I gulped out between sniffs.
“The baby is yours, my love. You know I am a king, and I have my own country. I cannot live here and dwell with you—pretending you still have your independence. This is a game I am unwilling to play. You should never ask it of me. I’ve been cavalier with my affections. I am to be your husband and your leader or I will be nothing to you. Julie, I am insulted by your insensitivity to my station in life.”
My mouth fell open in an odd mix of shock mixed with a feeling of a chastised child. He was right. I still didn’t know what to do. He gave me an ironic half grin and stood to leave. I still had no words. He left, and I cried for hours. I was angry and confused and tired. I heard the elevator outside ding and for the briefest of moments, I thought he’d returned. But it wasn’t him, and soon the suite was dark except for the light that filtered in from the city below.
I decided to stay in bed, naked and smelling of him. The insides of my thighs were sticky, and whenever I moved in the bed, his scent would waft up and invade my perceptions. I did love him. I had no doubts about that fact. I grappled with a need to run to him and apologize. I had visions of kneeling before him and surrendering fully to his demands as he’d asked, but I could only fantasize about doing so.
I stayed in the suite only one more day. I languished in and out of depression and ordered one meal from room service. His favorite of Irish stew and new potatoes. I’d found it amusing something so foreign, simple, and oddly enough, inexpensive to prepare, would be the number one pick for an Arabian King. I cried through the entire meal.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night, and by dawn I left the hotel high-rise and went back to my apartment. Along with my now-cold body, apparently he’d also been able to offer me sleep.
Insomniac Julie was back in force. I kicked open the door to my apartment and a wave of loneliness washed over me. The reality of my life came crashing in around me too and I sagged onto the couch and stared at the wall of degrees and plaques of accomplishments. Little good any of them would do now. None of them signified love or belonging.
Oh Amir, I miss you so much.
Chapter Four
I thought for sure I would hear from Amir in the following week, but there was no sign he existed. I hated how domineering he was, or dominant, or what was it that irked me? Was it simply because he was a man of his word and was unwavering when he made up his mind? Wasn’t that something to be admired and not condemned?
I was that kind of woman, after all. Maybe we were both too strong for our own good? With these thoughts came the revelation that it was me who would have to surrender. Amir never would. It was a pride thing, and even though I fully understood his side of it and how he felt—part of me even agreed with him—I still wasn’t ready to give up on what I’d worked so hard to achieve.
I was a strong and dominant female. I was intelligent, and I knew if given the opportunity, and with some experience behind me, I could run an entire conglomerate. I even had visions of perhaps going into politics. If Amir weren’t an Arab and from a country where women are maligned and never allowed to rule, I could possibly hammer out a partnership with him. A co-rule kind of deal. I knew I deserved as much and was plenty capable of delivering. I was not a submissive female, and I probably never would kneel at someone else’s feet.
I made an appointment with the doctor just to check on the progress of my pregnancy and hopefully get some kind of anti-nausea pills. I was a wreck and could hardly keep anything down, even water. The two weeks with Amir, I’d been almost fine, better than fine, and hadn’t felt at all sick, but now that he was gone and I wasn’t sleeping again.
Just as I suspected, my body must have agreed with my mind in the area of having babies.
I was going to keep this child though; I had to. For now though, I decided on full steam ahead with my previous plans. I set my jaw on the simple fact I was once again alone and fending entirely for myself, and I really couldn’t count on anyone to help. Although I did arrange to have lunch with Melinda, my best friend’s mother.
Melinda Potts practically raised me alongside her daughter Anna, so to me, it made sense she might help me through the uncharted waters of my first pregnancy. My first? Oh God, I can’t believe I’m thinking in those terms. But, Melinda is a wonderful and caring woman, even if she tends to be a bit of a recluse. Although since Anna married, her husband Richard has become more attentive, and Anna says her mother seems to be happier than she could ever remember.
***
After another sleepless night and morning of dry heaves, I dragged my weary self to the doctor and he gave me two arm bands meant to press on the pressure points on my wrists. They reported
ly suppress motion sickness and morning sickness—I would try anything to stop the onslaught of debilitating nausea!
Arm bands firmly in place and denting the insides of my wrists, I met with Melinda at one of her favorite downtown bistros. Her beaming face was like a balm to my tired and lonely heart and we soon got into an easy conversation. I told her about Amir, and she caught me up on Anna, who was now almost into her second trimester of pregnancy.
“Oh she’s doing fine now. Said the morning sickness stopped about a week ago—just after they noticed her bump had grown considerably. Here is a picture…”
She pulled out her phone and showed me. My best friend in the whole world is grinning from ear to ear with her hands lovingly cradling her much larger abdomen.
“Isn’t she beautiful? I am so proud of her.”
I masked my unease and pet at my own stomach. I’ve always been tall and skinny and the thought of losing my flat belly still made me uneasy.
“She always wanted this—from as far back as I could remember, she wanted to have kids and be a mommy.” I detected my own tone and cringed. I sounded rueful and depressed.
Melinda took my hand from across the table.
“Jules, just come and live with me. You know we have more than enough room. I rattle around in that brownstone all by myself most of the time. Richard spends more time in New York than Boston. You could have your own floor. The nursery needs some work, but it’s actually still a nursery. I think of you as a daughter, too; I’d love to help you with this.”
I wrinkled my nose, “Really? I mean, it seems like too much to ask of anyone.”
She nodded earnestly, “It’s not too much to ask of an old lady who’s lonely and misses her daughter.” She furrowed her brow, “The only problem is that I plan on being with Anna in Dubai when she is due. You’ll be alone for at least a month, maybe two.” Then her tone brightened and she grinned. “I’ll be back just in time for your birth! And on the bright side, I’ll be all practiced and learned up for you!”
I smiled and pondered the whole situation yet again as I stabbed at my salad. “I am really tired,” I offered.
“Jules, you shouldn’t be expected to do this alone. I know Anna would insist you live with us if she were still here.” Her voice changed to a concerned tone, “Why has he abandoned you? I do not understand why he left.”
“Oh no! It’s not him, Melinda. Amir is—well—he’s…” I couldn’t seem to find the words to explain.
“It’s me. Not him. He has already provided me with financial backing. You wouldn’t have to pick up any of the expenses. I just need a place where I’m not alone.”
“Then come home, darling girl. Come home to me, and I’ll take care of you.”
Chapter Five
By the end of the month, I’d moved from my tiny apartment near Harvard to live with Melinda Potts. I was given the entire second floor with my own room and big bathroom and the adjoining nursery. Across the hall was Anna’s room, which has been left unchanged since she moved in with me closer to the university. Melinda had paint and wallpaper swatches on hand for the redecorating and renovations of the nursery, and once I settled into my space, we both started figuring out how we want it to look.
“I don’t think we should do anything until we know if it’s a girl or a boy,” she offered.
I agreed. “Four more weeks and we can tell the sex.”
We tentatively agreed that if it was a girl, the room will be lavender, and if a boy a darker shade of blue will be sufficient. We also agreed that teddy bears would work for either as a theme. I snickered and suggested we need a few camels too, or at the very least a desert theme somewhere just to remind us of his daddy, Amir.
“You know, when Anna ran off with Omar, Richard was so angry. I think it was partly the Arab thing, but also the big blowout he had with Omar. It took us both a while to settle on who our son-in-law was—and, of course, Anna living so far away.”
I agreed, “I never dreamt I’d find an Arab man attractive, let alone fall in love with one.”
Melinda put her hand on my arm. “If you love him, darling, why are you here? Finding that kind of love is more important than anything else I could ever imagine.”
I winced at her sincerity. I didn’t want to hear about love being more important than my fierce need for independence. I sighed and shook my head.
“The timing isn’t right for us. That’s all. Maybe someday.”
My tone was airy and light, and I faked my way through wanting to confess how much I missed Amir.
She let it go, but I could tell she was confused at my choices.
“Do you have a follow up interview this week?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I do, but I think I am going to blow off the New York offer and look for something here in Boston.”
“Oh darling, no! New York was your dream. Is there a chance you could get it?”
I shrugged, “I think, maybe. But once they find out I’m preggers, I believe they’ll pick someone else.”
Chapter Six
A month passed, and I’d become comfortable living with Melinda. We shared meals and watched TV together. The wrist bands helped diminish my constant state of nausea, and I’ve finally put on some weight, although I am still not showing. I was going to the doctor to find out the sex of the baby, and Melinda was going with me.
I’d heard from Amir twice. Both emails, which were incredibly formal and so non-personal I wondered if he even sent them. More than likely, he had a secretary do it for him. He did set me up handsomely with a heavy bank account. I’ve back burnered the job search until after I give birth. Or maybe till after the baby is a bit older. I couldn’t seem to decide if going to work now would be a good thing and motivate me to return soon after the birth—or if I should wait and enjoy my baby while it is it’s most fragile.
With what Amir has provided, I could certainly afford to stay home and rest, which is what I wanted to do all the time. I was so tired, most of the time I couldn’t envision getting up early and then working a sixteen hour day.
I saw the contradiction clearly, however, and I often wondered why I sent Amir away if my plan was to lay around for nine months in Boston. I could have done that with him. Yes, I was a miasma of incongruity. I was fully aware of the paradox of Julie. At least I was still independent and living life on my terms. I still couldn’t envision belonging to a man as his subordinate the way I know Amir expects his female to be.
“I’m debating calling Amir to tell him the news,” I announced at dinner.
“You should! He will be delighted,” Melinda confirmed.
“Maybe I’ll talk to Anna first. I haven’t talked to her much. She seems to always be occupied or sleeping.”
Melinda sipped at her tea and nodded. “The time difference is so frustrating.” She looked up at me and her eyes twinkled. “Omar offered to send the jet. Come with me, and we can visit for a week. You can still fly.”
I wrinkled up my mouth in response.
“Please, Jules. It would make Anna so happy to see you!”
Initially, I’d felt like jumping up and offering to leave immediately. I ached for Amir, but was not going to be the first to crumble and admit I’d been in the wrong. Again, it was a pride thing, and I was coming to grips with my own arrogant self. Perhaps what I detested so much in Amir was exactly what I refused to see in myself.
Lately, I’d found myself with way too much time for reflection and self-introspection and some of these little tid-bits were part of my own evolution. The glaring inescapable fact that I was soon to be a mother meant I needed to grow up in a hurry and face the inevitable. If I couldn’t govern myself, how in the world could I raise a child?
“Um…”
Melinda used her mother voice, “Really, Jules, what else do you have going on? Would a trip to Dubai interrupt another depressed napping session?”
I snorted sarcastically. Leave it to Melinda to not mince words and tell it like it was. S
he was right, too. I was still dwelling in some odd land of depressed and unwilling to accept that the course of my life had changed. Get with the routine, Jules. What happened to no regrets? I feared I was living in the land of multitude at the moment.
“Yeah—touché mother. Let’s do this.”
“Excellent! I’ll call Anna right now and set it up,” Melinda cheerily announced.
“I need another nap,” I said wearily and headed upstairs.
Just as I laid down and closed my eyes, I heard Melinda rushing up the stairs.
“Jules—Jules!”
“What? What happened?”
“It’s Anna—I mean—it’s your Amir. He’s been in a horrible accident.”
My blood turned to ice, and I immediately began to shiver. My vision blurred, and I swayed. Thankfully, I was still in bed. I stuttered, “What? What do you mean? Is he…?”
I couldn’t even bring myself to consider he’d died.
“No, he’s still alive. But it seems tentative right now. They have him in ICU in an induced coma.”
I saw my own eyelids flutter and my peripheral vision went black as everything narrows to a pinprick. I heard myself say, “I love him,” in a pitiful voice.
Melinda picked up my hand, and I sagged against the pillows. “Omar has already sent the jet. We will leave first thing in the morning.”
“Okay,” I said and then everything went black.
Chapter Seven
I don’t remember the flight. I think I was in a haze through all of it. I might have slept. Melinda insisted I play cards with her, and then we started a game of chess. Nothing helped. I was a wreck and continually cursed myself for sending Amir away and denying him marriage. Now all I wanted was to be near him and with him and to take care of him. I was prepared to beg him and surrender all my will if it would mean he would grab hold and seek to live.
The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh Series Book 6) Page 2
