Sheikh's Pregnant Cinderella

by Maya Blake

  And then he’d fled, uncaring of the devastation he’d left behind.

  Zufar’s insides twisted with bitterness and a pain he wanted to will away with every ounce of his being but had found over the years was near impossible.

  That too was a salutary lesson, an abiding reminder to stay away from foolish feelings and keep his trust circle to a party of one.

  Those reminders had served him well, would continue to serve him well when it came to the subject of Adir. He would need to be dealt with, of course. Zufar’s intelligence chief had pinpointed where Adir had gone into hiding in his desert kingdom but Zufar was in no hurry to pursue his brother. Revenge was a dish best served cold, after all.

  Plus, he had a honeymoon to embark upon.

  The thought of the woman who was now his Queen, his wife, triggered a different sensation in Zufar.

  The rose bushes faded from view, his mind’s eye conjuring up a vision of shy, quiet strength and surprising beauty that clenched a muscle in his belly.

  At every turn his new bride surprised him. He hadn’t held much in the way of expectations from the woman he’d plucked from obscurity. Even though her lack of pedigree hadn’t bothered him as much as it had his councillors, he’d had reservations about her ability to rise to her position. But she’d taken on the role with an intelligence, poise and dignity that had surprised everyone, including him.

  Unlike her predecessor, his mother, Niesha was not filling her diary with appointments with designers, magazine photo shoots and gossip-mongering luncheons. In fact, the occasional demand on her time for anything other than palace duties drew the small press of her lips he was beginning to recognise as signifying her displeasure.

  The one thing that made her eyes light up was any activity involving children. And when it was time to take lessons from her tutor.

  There were other times when he glimpsed strong emotion in her eyes, too, although after their wedding night she’d attempted to hide those emotions from him. Another earthy sensation shifted through Zufar, his manhood responding to his thought.

  Those early-morning hours together were becoming an addictive means of waking her up from her nightmares. They might be sharing a bed in order to produce an heir, but that hour before sunrise was fast becoming a routine he didn’t wish to abandon.

  He sucked in a breath as his blood sang with fire and the pressure behind his fly thickened. His wife might have been innocent when he took her to bed, but she was swiftly gaining the status of the most memorable bed partner he’d ever had.

  He frowned inwardly as the reasons for the need to awaken her each morning sliced through his mind. Niesha claimed not to remember the subject of her nightmares, and he believed her.

  Nevertheless it was a problem. One that might need addressing sooner rather than later. As was the subject of her past. All his investigators had been able to dig up so far was that she’d grown up in an orphanage on the outskirts of his capital city.

  The last thing he needed was for other skeletons to fall out of his proverbial closet, but it seemed her past was a blank no one could fill.

  The knock on his door in that moment was a half-blessing, freeing him from thinking about the enigma surrounding his new bride. Besides, he could do with not inviting problems where there were none, so he turned abruptly from the window.

  ‘Enter,’ he called.

  Niesha entered, and he couldn’t help but stare. He took in her slender form, his eyes lingering on the shadow of her cleavage, the neat little waist he’d gripped to hold her steady as he lost himself in her body, and the curve of her hips that could even now be cradling his child.

  For the first time since his clinical discussions of heirs and legacies, Zufar allowed himself to wonder what their child would look like.

  He frowned, pulling himself from the brink of useless daydream as she drew closer. Dressed in a burnt-orange dress that complemented her colour superbly, with her hair pulled up into some elaborate knot, she more than held her own as a queen.

  And even though he’d availed himself of every inch of her body only a handful of hours ago, a gnawing hunger began to beat a restless, relentless beat through him.

  She stopped before his desk, spine straight, head angled as if she’d spent a lifetime learning comportment rather than a scant two weeks, and looked him straight in the eye, sending the rush in his blood higher.

  ‘I was told you wanted to see me?’ she asked.

  Zufar forced himself to focus. ‘Yes.’ He indicated the chair before his desk and waited for her to sit. ‘I wanted to inform you that we leave for our honeymoon tomorrow. But before we do, there’s one engagement today that needs to be filled.’ The reason why that engagement had now fallen on Niesha made his mouth tighten. ‘I need you.’

  Her eyes widened a touch before they swept to the window, avoiding his gaze. He found himself wanting to capture her chin and redirect her attention to him. He blunted the need.

  He couldn’t afford to indulge in carnal pleasures when he had a kingdom to run.

  You have a fifteen-minute window of free time, a voice whispered insidiously in his ear.

  He pushed it away, striding to his desk and settling himself behind it. ‘Galila’s departure has left a few engagements unfulfilled. I’ve delegated most of them, but I need you to handle this one,’ he said briskly.

  ‘Oh, I see. How can I help?’ There was a briskness to her tone that drew a frown from him despite his own effort to display the same demeanour. He liked her softer, Zufar realised.

  She caught his frown, and a moment later her face was the serene mask she’d been presenting to the adoring public since she first stepped out in her role as his Queen two weeks ago. That his people had taken to her was an understatement. Everywhere she went she was met with bunches of flowers and adoring crowds. But that mask was for the public. Zufar was a little irritated that she was maintaining it when they were alone.

  ‘Your schedule is free for the next few hours, I believe?’ he enquired.

  She nodded. ‘Yes. It is.’

  ‘Good. This is an opening ceremony at a local children’s hospital. Galila was supposed to have attended but of course circumstances have changed.’ His sister was currently in Zyria, Sheikh Karim having wasted no time in whisking her away the moment Zufar had given his agreement.

  Niesha picked up the sheet he slid across the desk, scrutinising the page before setting it back down. This time when she looked at him, a genuine smile was in place. She was pleased, as he’d known she would be when the suggestion of being surrounded by children came up.

  Again, he found himself wondering about his own future offspring, whether his son or daughter would be cherished by Niesha the way he’d never been by his parents. Zufar was a little taken aback to realise that hidden behind the gratification of certainty that his own child wouldn’t be neglected or visited with indifference was a thread of jealousy.

  Was he really jealous of his own unborn child?

  ‘I’d be honoured to attend. I’ll try not to let you down,’ she said with a small smile that drifted away all too quickly.

  He looked closer and saw the faint shadows beneath her eyes. ‘They were expecting a princess. They’re getting a queen. The honour will be theirs, I am sure of it.’

  Her lips parted, as if she was going to respond, then she pressed them firmly together again.

  Zufar wasn’t entirely sure why his unease deepened. Rounding his desk, he drew a finger down her cheek. ‘Are you well?’ He noted that his tone was abrupt and felt a little irritated with himself.

  She drew away under the pretext of rising to her feet. ‘Of course. I had better go and get ready for this.’

  He frowned as she started to walk away. ‘Wait.’

  ‘Yes?’

  He strode towards her, the soft and alluring scent of her perfume tugging at him. ‘I’
ve had to add a few more appointments to the schedule on our honeymoon. It seems the lure of my Queen is too much for dignitaries to resist. I’d advise you therefore not to overtire yourself. We have a busy couple of weeks ahead of us.’

  Her lashes swept down, the long silky length brushing her cheek. ‘I’m glad I can be useful. It is my role here after all, isn’t it?’ she enquired softly with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and a note in her voice that further grated.

  His eyes narrowed on her face but for the life of him, Zufar couldn’t dig beneath her serene demeanour. The realisation that he wanted to know what was bothering her jarred him hard.

  He was the King. He didn’t deal in emotions.

  ‘Yes,’ he affirmed. ‘It is.’

  ‘Then I’ll be ready.’

  He went with her to the outer door, waved away the guard and opened the door himself. Then he stood watching her walk down the wide hallway, again struck by the dignity and grace in her stature and the smiles and reverence she commanded in her wake. He had no doubt she wouldn’t let him down.

  The first speech she’d given had been so in tune with his own vision that he’d wondered whether she’d conscripted his private secretary as her speechwriter. The discovery that she’d written the speech to his army veterans on her own had been a stunning surprise.

  All of that though didn’t explain the withdrawal he glimpsed frequently in her eyes.

  Zufar returned to his desk, unable to shake off his frown or unease. For the first time in his life, he had a problem whose solution was eluding him and the reality of it jarred.

  He had a wife who was shining in areas his own mother had severely lacked. At the thought of his mother, his mood plummeted. But try as he did to dismiss her from his thoughts, he found himself circling back to the woman who had given birth to him and then treated him as if he was an inconvenience.

  Sure, there had been times now fading from memory when she’d bestowed a kind smile and a gentle touch. But that had been a long time ago, possibly even figments of his imagination. As he’d been prone to wondering lately, had those moments of brief affection been because she couldn’t be with Adir, the child she’d truly loved?

  His fingers tightened on the edge of his desk.

  Was that it? Adir had spoken about the letters his mother had written to him in his youth. Letters declaring her love for him. That revelation had driven home the grating fact that all her devotion had been reserved for the child she’d never been able to claim as her own, with nothing left for her remaining children.

  The unpalatable thought pierced him but it wasn’t so easily dismissed on recollection of Adir’s fury at their mother’s funeral. Had their mother’s love for her bastard son eventually faded too, usurped by the wealth and prestige she’d craved more than anything else?

  Enough!

  It was no use dwelling on his mother and a fruitless past he needed to move on from. Zufar planted his elbows on his desk and attempted to dig into the mountain of work awaiting his attention. But concentration was at a premium. Perhaps he should’ve touched wood after all, he mused bitterly.

  When his private secretary knocked, Zufar tossed down his pen.

  ‘Your Highness, your next appointment has been cancelled. The foreign minister’s daughter was taken ill suddenly. I have sent flowers.’

  Zufar’s mouth twisted at his relief.

  His foreign minister was an obsequious man, prone to rambling for an hour on an issue that required ten minutes. Reluctant to return to his sour thoughts, he rose from the desk.

  ‘Free up my appointments for the next three hours,’ he said, even before he’d fully made up his mind.

  ‘Immediately, Your Highness. Can I arrange anything else for that time?’

  ‘Inform my wife’s motorcade not to leave without me. I’m attending the ceremony with her.’

  His private secretary hid his surprise well, made a quick note on his tablet, bowed and hurried away to do his bidding.

  Ten minutes later, Zufar waited in the limo as her bodyguards escorted Niesha to the car. For the several seconds it took for her reach him, he stared, once again arrested and a little stunned that he’d ever imagined her plain.

  Sunlight glinted on her thick, luxurious hair, which had been rearranged into another attractive knot. The sea-green dress she’d changed into hugged her slim torso before flaring at the waist, the skirt showing off shapely long legs balanced on designer heels. A pulse of satisfaction went through him as he spotted the emerald necklace he’d given to her two days ago circling her neck.

  It was part of a larger collection of jewellery that had belonged to his grandmother, and, even though the emerald was the smallest of the lot, it was eye-catching on Niesha and suited her outfit perfectly.

  She was truly exquisite, he observed with a curious catch in his chest and a slowly elevating heartbeat.

  When his gaze rose again to trace her delicate cheekbones and wide, generous mouth, renewed hunger punched through him.

  He hurried to adjust himself or risk embarrassing both of them as the driver held the door open for her.

  She slid in and froze, her eyes widening in surprise and then suspicion. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I found myself free of obligations.’

  ‘So you decided to come to a ribbon-cutting ceremony?’

  He shrugged and reached out to secure her seat belt. ‘I’m in danger of losing my position as the most popular figure in Khalia,’ he mused dryly.

  She didn’t return his smile. ‘There’s no danger of that, and even if there was, you’re not vain, so there must be another reason for your presence,’ she said, her eyes growing wary as the motorcade left the palace grounds.

  ‘A compliment slapped away by suspicion. I don’t know whether to be pleased or wounded, Niesha.’

  Her face remained set in lines that suggested she wasn’t too pleased by his appearance.

  ‘What’s really going on, Zufar? Do you not think I can execute my duty properly?’ she asked with a trace of hurt in her voice.

  ‘I wouldn’t have given you this responsibility if I didn’t think you could handle it,’ he stated, a little put out by the need to explain himself.

  ‘Then why? Don’t forget I saw your itinerary in your office.’

  He’d kept his schedule free to spend time with his wife. It was that simple. And that complicated, Zufar realised.

  ‘There may be questions about Galila.’

  ‘Questions you don’t think I can handle.’ It wasn’t a question but a flat statement.

  For a moment, he wished he’d stayed in his office after all. It was certainly an odd feeling to know his presence wasn’t required. Unsettling still to acknowledge that he wasn’t wanted. That brought back memories he’d dwelt on for far too long already today.

  ‘I don’t believe I owe you an explanation of how I use my time,’ he added, his voice emerging a touch more tersely than he’d intended.

  He caught her wince and her pinched face, and suppressed a growl.

  For several minutes they travelled in silence. Then she reached into her handbag and pulled out a sheet of paper. ‘Well, I’d intended to read through my speech in the car, so if you don’t mind...?’

  ‘You may practise it on me, if you wish.’

  Her breath caught faintly before a wave of colour flowed into her cheeks. It took every ounce of control he could muster not to touch her in that moment. ‘Are...are you sure?’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied.

  She stared at him for endless moments, then gave a small nod. After straightening the sheet, she cleared her throat. And then she began to speak.

  Zufar listened. Watched her. Struggled not to get lost in her husky, melodious voice. Not to get lost in the powerful message of support, the strong empathy and even the self-deprecating joke
s she managed to slot in so effortlessly.

  It took a few beats to realise she was done, and staring at him, eyes wide and wary.

  ‘You wrote that by yourself in three hours?’

  She immediately averted her gaze, looked down at the paper. ‘Is it that bad?’ Her voice was a little unsteady.

  Before he could stop himself, he reached across and captured her hand. ‘It’s that good.’

  She gasped. ‘Really? Are you sure? I always worry that I’m gushing a little too hard. Or not enough.’

  His thumb stroked back and forth across her hand, a strange need that had nothing to do with sex mounting higher inside him. ‘There’s a perfect amount of gush. But I would nix that last joke at your own expense. You can keep that one private.’ For me.

  She nodded, then began to rummage in her handbag. He reached into the sleek compartment next to him and offered her a pen.

  The smallest smile curved her lips as she took it. ‘Thank you.’

  A yearning to see a wider, longer-lasting smile hit him hard, but he settled for watching her amend her speech. When she was done, he took her hand again. She made no move to withdraw it, and, finding that he liked touching her silk-smooth skin far too much, he kept his hand where it was right up until they arrived at the hospital.

  An excited hum of surprise went through the sizeable crowd as he stepped out. Then it turned into shouts of adoration when Niesha joined him on the bright blue carpet. ‘I believe my assessment is proving accurate,’ he murmured.

  Her smile as she waved to the crowd was warm and open. ‘I’m just a passing fancy. You’ll regain their total devotion before the month’s out, I’m sure.’

  He wasn’t sure why that transitory statement rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps it was the reminder that he’d placed a ticking-clock clause on their marriage, one that was already chiming much too loudly for his liking.

  He shrugged the thought away and accompanied Niesha as she approached the crowd. As with her smile, her greeting was warm and engaging, although Zufar noticed that she gravitated towards children and mothers with small babies, taking time to draw a smile or laugh before she moved on.