SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  “Do you object to being served by a Crown Prince?”

  Her eyes shot up to his face, sure she would see anger there, but what she saw made a small giggle escape before she could control it. He was teasing her! The very idea was unheard of in her book. Whoever heard of a prince teasing his staff? Granted, she had observed that his relationship with Malik was much friendlier than she might have expected between him and his PA, but he barely knew her, so to be teased so soon seemed somehow significant.

  “No, Your Highness. How could I object? It will most likely never happen again,” she dared to tease in return.

  Something flashed in his eyes, making them darken to black. She held her breath, wondering if she had presumed too much. Then he spoke, his voice cool.

  “Then you must enjoy it while you can,” he said.

  She turned her eyes away to look out at the scenes passing by the window…anything to avoid his suddenly heated gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was making a play for her. But that was just absurd. He was a prince, soon to be a king, for crying out loud! Whatever made her think he would even look twice at her, a mere LPN, with a kid in tow, at that? She wasn’t a prize on any day of the week to most guys, and definitely not to this guy. Simone’s warm body slumped against her, and she reached around and pulled her as close as the seatbelt would allow, closing her eyes and praying that her emotions would settle soon.

  A warm hand on her knee woke her from a nap. She had no idea when she fell asleep, but she felt infinitely better, if embarrassed at having fallen asleep in the prince’s company. Had she slept with her mouth open, or snored? Had she drooled? She swiped her thumb and forefinger down the sides of her lips and found them thankfully dry.

  “We are here, Ms. Downing,” the prince said, removing his hand.

  She missed his touch at once, but she did not miss the way he closed his fist, and she wondered why he did so. It would be nice to think that he was as affected by her as she was by him. It would mean that touching her was as much a treat for him as being touched by him was for her. Sighing inwardly, she roused Simone, and before long, they were standing once again in stifling heat, only this time the vehicles were stopped beneath a sheltering roof over the driveway.

  “Please follow me, Ms. Downing,” Malik said, gesturing to the door, through which she followed him a minute later, holding her daughter’s hand.

  The interior was blessedly cool, and Alex followed Malik without paying any attention to where she was going. She was too busy being impressed by the beauty and elegance of the interior, and the sumptuousness of the style. Paintings, sculptures, wall colors, window dressings, furniture…everything attested not only to great wealth but also superlative taste in interior design. The colors were all in the warm palette, mostly reds and golds, but with some blues and greens to achieve a balance that was as aesthetically pleasing as it was elegant, and worthy of royalty.

  Eventually Malik stopped before a set of double doors that were magnificent. There were twin copper circles with a rampant lion inside each one, inset in deep, heavy mahogany. He knocked once and then pushed the doors inward, revealing a huge space that it turned out was the part of the wing in which the elder sheikh lived. She walked in, feeling Simone clutching her hand nervously. An old man sat ramrod straight in a wheelchair, his gray hair shining in the afternoon light that streamed through the French doors he was sitting in front of. Alex could see what looked like manicured lawns through the doors, and she wondered how anything could grow in such heat and dryness. They had driven through a lot of desert to get to the palace.

  “His Majesty is usually most lucid for a few hours each afternoon, and at night before he goes to sleep,” Malik explained. “It used to be that he was lucid by day and not by night, but things have been changing recently.”

  “As the disease progresses, things do get increasingly worse,” Alex murmured, and then said, “But I’m sure you already know that.” She looked at the old man as they approached, and added, “I’m surprised that he still is so erect, though.”

  “His Majesty has been able to retain a lot of his strength, surprisingly, though that, too is waning rapidly,” Malik replied. “He can now only sit in his wheelchair for two hours at the most before he needs the recliner. He does not enjoy being in his bed except when it is time to sleep, and there is the challenge of moving him from the recliner to his bed.”

  They had reached him by this point, and Malik spoke to him quietly.

  “Salaam, Your Majesty,” he said, and waited.

  The old man turned his head and narrowed his eyes. “Salaam, Malik.”

  Alex looked him in the eye, slipping into professional mode as she took in the condition of his body. He was rail thin, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes sunken. But his dark skin was clear, his eyes bright, and his hands fairly steady on the arms of the wheelchair.

  “Who is this woman?” he asked Malik, pinning her with his unwavering gaze.

  “This is Alexandra Downing, Your Majesty,” Malik replied, “and her daughter Simone. Ms. Downing will be your caregiver.”

  The sheikh looked her over, from the top of her neat bun to her sandal-clad feet. She felt his stare resting heavily on every place he looked, and she wondered what he was thinking about what he saw. He gestured for her to step forward, and she did, with Simone clinging to her, trembling slightly.

  “Why have you left your husband, and taken your child to a foreign country whose customs you do not know to care for a dying man?”

  Alex was taken aback by his question, and by the hard tone of his voice. She felt almost as though she were on trial, and her answer would lose her the job if her own tone and words did not satisfy him.

  “Simone’s father is dead, Your Majesty,” she said, glad she was not lying, even though she had omitted the part where she had not been married to him. She was sure that would be severely frowned upon in this country. “And I need the job.”

  “You have no family?” He asked next. “No one to care for you? No man to love you?”

  Alex looked over at Malik, wondering why he had not warned her that “lucid” meant nosy, old-fashioned, and arrogant, as well as clear-minded.

  “My parents are both gone, sir,” she said, not letting the hurt she still felt grip her, “and I was their only child. And there is no one else.”

  She didn’t want to sound pathetic, because she didn’t need anyone’s pity, and especially not this man’s. She wanted respect, and she was damned if she would let him make her feel less than she was because she only had Simone in the whole world to love her.

  He stared at her for another long moment. “I see you do not require my pity, so I will not offer it,” he said, shocking her completely. “Come and sit with me. And bring your daughter. I wish to talk with her, as well.”

  Malik was already setting out chairs and ushered her and Simone over to them. Once Simone was settled, Malik said,

  “Your Majesty, the little one might be hungry…”

  The king interrupted him before he was finished. “Yes, of course. Have them bring enough for us and the child.”

  Malik bowed and withdrew, leaving Alex alone with her patient. He had turned to look out over the lawns, and what Alex now saw was a small flower garden.

  “I love to sit here, in the height of the afternoon, to watch the day go by,” he said. “It is one of my few remaining pleasures.”

  Alex didn’t know how to reply. She felt unusually tongue-tied, and stared ahead as well, wishing she could forget who he was and think only that he was a dying man who needed her to help him die with dignity.

  “What do you enjoy doing, Ms. Downing?” he asked, apparently recognizing that she didn’t know how to answer his comment.

  “Apart from my work,” she began, needing him to know that working with him would not be a chore, “I enjoy reading and playing games with Simone.”

  “Do you not enjoy other pursuits unrelated to your responsibilities?” he wanted to know,
obviously not interested in whether or not she liked her job.

  “I liked the lessons I took in horseback riding and marksmanship,” she said, remembering how much fun those five sessions had been.

  “Ah, a woman of action and passion,” he said, turning suddenly to pierce her with his gaze. “I am sure that Malik can arrange for those lessons to continue here. Since you have moved your home for me, it is the least I can do.”

  “Oh! Oh, thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied. “I wasn’t asking…”

  “Did I say you were, Ms. Downing?” he snapped irritably. “Do I need your permission to bestow my largesse upon you? Do you not work for me?” He paused to catch his breath and continued, berating her, “Do not presume to tell me how I may dispose of what is mine. And do not adopt a pose of humility with me. We will get along much better if you are honest. I do not tolerate falsehood in any form!” he ended imperiously.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Alex said docilely, chastened, annoyed, and amused all at once.

  She could tell this was going to be an interesting time. And suddenly, she was looking forward to it. A smile curved her lips, and she turned her attention back to his voice as he asked her a question about Simone.

  Chapter 5

  Amit knocked softly on his father’s bedroom door before entering. After their arrival at lunch time a week earlier, he had not seen Alexandra, as he had taken to calling her in his head, again. Malik had whisked her off, as per his instructions, to meet her charge, and then had settled her into her suite. He himself had gone immediately to his study for a conference call that had taken almost an hour. Then, the business left incomplete by his visit abroad waited for him to attend to, and he had been busy every afternoon, and well into the evenings, and for the next few days, only pausing for meals with Malik, who had briefed him on her first meeting with his aging parent.

  Now he needed to see her. No matter how busy he had been, she had never been far from his thoughts, and he wanted to see her one more time, maybe touch her, hear her speak, watch her eyes light up with humor and compassion, before he took himself off to bed. The next day he would be away on business again, and he planned to end things with Amina that evening at dinner. He would not start anything with Alexandra while things with Amina remained as they were.

  At first, he could see nothing, standing inside the open doorway. She had turned off all the lights, and only a night light glowed by the head of the bed. His father’s head was turned on the pillow, and a soft snore escaped his lips, the only sign that he was still alive. Alexandra seemed to be missing, and he frowned. He had made it clear that she was not to be far from his father, who slept fitfully at best, and sometimes not at all. Turning slowly, he saw her seated by the window, her lighted tablet in her hands, watching him. She stood up, but remained silent as he closed the door behind him and approached her. When he was a foot in front of her, she spoke quietly.

  “Good evening, Your Highness,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and bowed her head to him.

  His heart lurched in his chest. He had not expected her to bow to him, and the courtesy was somehow even more poignant because they were alone, where no one would know if she had done it or not. He could not speak for a moment, feeling so overwhelmed by his growing emotion for the woman waiting quietly for him to say something. Inhaling deeply did not help to calm him, either, as he expected, but merely brought the essence of her scent into his lungs. She smelled like frangipani and jasmine, making his body hard with a need to touch her, even as his mouth watered suddenly for a taste of her, particularly the lips that were even now smiling shyly at him.

  “How may I help you, Your Highness?” she continued, when he hesitated. There was a hitch in her voice, and he wondered if she were feeling the electric current of awareness that he felt arcing between them.

  “I just wanted to find out how everything has been so far,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets to stop himself from touching her. “I heard that your first meeting with my father went well.”

  He smiled a little as he said that, remembering how Malik had described the way she expertly handled his father’s irascibility and abruptness. The other caregivers had not been patient with him at all, and his father had disliked them on sight. According to Malik, his father seemed to take to Alexandra, which would be a first, and for which he was very grateful.

  “His Majesty is a very strong man, Your Highness, despite his illness,” she replied, looking over to where his father slept on, undisturbed. “If you need to speak with me,” she added, “perhaps we should take this outside. I’m wearing the mic…I’ll hear him if he stirs.”

  Amir let her lead him out of the bedroom to the sitting room through which he had come in, and watched as she left the door ajar. She was calmly efficient, warm, and strong, and he found himself falling deeper under her spell. What it was about her that made him want to wrap her up in silk sheets and protect her, as well as strip her naked and ravage her, he couldn’t tell, but every moment he spent in her company, no matter how mundane, built those conflicting feelings in his chest. He was old enough not to believe in love at first sight, but still young enough to want a passionate and lasting love with a woman worthy of his regard…a woman like her.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” he asked, searching for some explanation for his being there. “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed to get the job done,” he said, wishing the prevarication was unnecessary.

  He wanted to tell her that he missed her, after their long flight together, that he liked the sound of her voice and wanted to hear her again, that he thought she was beautiful and he wanted to see her again, and that he wished they knew each other better so he could kiss those sweetly pursed lips. He said none of those things, though he acknowledged them all to be true as he waited for her to answer him.

  “Well, I had a concern about Simone,” she began hesitantly.

  When she did not continue immediately, he prompted her. “You may say what is on your mind, Al…Ms. Downing.” He hoped she did not notice his slip, but kept his eyes on her face.

  “Well, I am not going to be able to provide stimulation for her, as she was used to having in the pre-K,” she began, “and I don’t want her to fall behind. And how will I manage school for her if…”another hesitation, “if I am mostly on duty?”

  Amir watched as her face bloomed with heat. He could imagine what she was thinking, and he hastened to reassure her.

  “Those are perfectly understandable and valid concerns, and I will set Malik to addressing them fully. How soon will you be able to see him tomorrow?”

  She considered for a moment, and then said, “If he could pass by after I’ve got His Majesty up, fed and dressed, that would be nice.”

  “Okay…around ten, then?” he asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness. I appreciate your being so understanding,” she added, still blushing slightly.

  Amir fought against the urge to palm her cheek and stroke her with his thumb. She was enticing, and he was lost to her many charms. He managed to restrain himself, and merely said,

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Downing.”

  He left it at that, because any further attempt to speak might end up with him saying things he needed to keep to himself. Besides, his voice was hoarse with unfulfilled desire. He looked at her, letting his gaze travel over the plain, dark blue scrubs and white Keds she wore. She had a nurse’s lapel watch pinned to the pocket of her top, and the big white triangle with the red cross on it was attached to the face by a stainless steel herringbone chain. She looked quietly professional, and the thought of stripping her of everything but that watch, though he couldn’t imagine how she could wear it without clothing, made his body hard.

  He cleared his throat, looking away from her, not willing to let her see the lust in his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he was reminded once again of how her scent wound him up. He clenched his fists inside his pockets, and said,

&nbs
p; “I’d best let you get on, then. I hope you have an uneventful night.”

  He pulled the door open for her and watched her walk back in. He would not follow her. That way lay madness.

  “Good night,” he said, and turned away sharply, leaving her standing just inside the bedroom watching his hasty departure.

  Inside his own suite, he dropped his jacket and pulled the tie off before heading to the bar in the corner of his living room. Pouring himself a stiff drink, he walked over and opened the French doors leading to the same garden that his father’s suite of rooms overlooked. Sipping his drink, he wandered out into the warm night air, inhaling the scent of the flowers that lay heavy on the air. The fragrant roses reminded him of his mother, and his heart softened as he remembered her. These days, the memory of her beautiful face did not cause pain to twist his heart, though he knew he would always miss her.

  A sound made him turn his head, and he saw Alexandra step onto the balcony off his father’s suite. She would not see him from where she stood, but he had a clear view of her face in the moonlight. She was leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself, looking up at the clear night sky, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Was she wishing on one of those brilliant stars that twinkled above them? And if she were, what would she wish for? He knew what he wished for. It was really quite simple. He wished for her…her body, her heart, her soul. He wanted the simplicity of her being, the elegance, the nobility, the toughness, the tenderness. Everything he sensed or had seen in her, he wanted.