by Ella Brooke
With Haley, it was one child, and Brenda was still a teenager. Now she had so much more riding on her and consequently, so much more to lose. She and Jamsheed were fighting so hard to come together. How could they do that when all she could think about was C-sections and high-risk surgery complications?
“You need to stay here. I’ve already had Jazmina fetch your things. You’ll be in my wing from now on. You’re going to be the sheikha soon. We’ll move up our wedding even faster. I can’t because of certain religious rules and things we must procure do it any faster than when you’ll be at six months, but we have to make sure—”
“—That no one’s a bastard?” she interrupted. “I’ve always hated myself for doing that to Haley. I know she’s an amazing young woman, but I hated that kids could use it against her. Wield it like a sword and make her question herself. I won’t let that happen twice.”
He cleared his throat and then pulled back the comforter on the bed. She was wearing nothing more enticing or fancy than a comfy pair of yoga pants and an old Dave Matthews Band t-shirt. She hardly felt like a sheikha now. Hardly felt like she had a chance of attracting his attention or keeping it.
There will be someone else. I’m not really a queen. I’m not worthy of any of this.
“You need to rest. I know it’s a shock. I’m surprised too,” he said.
She nodded as she curled into her pillow. “I guess the big thing was that before with Haley, I had to figure out what to do. I had to tell my parents and we had to scrape money together.” Brenda rolled her eyes back her Jamsheed. “I can tell from the size of the palace that I could have a whole litter and not set you back.”
“True, and you can trust me that three children will be no better cared for than by me. We can figure all of it out together, including how to make Haley feel a part of this family.”
“I just… There’s so much, and I’m scared it’ll hurt and I’m scared there might be complications. This is a big, scary, all-encompassing thing, but it’s also one of the best things I’ve ever done. I could have gone home to the States or found a different mid job in London. I could have said no, and I know parts of this still make me nervous.”
He nodded even as he stroked his goatee. “I know.”
“And that’s my fault too, all of my trust issues built up over a lifetime.”
“But?”
“But, I would never forgive myself if there were too many complications…” she choked up then and felt the tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn’t say the rest of it out loud, as if by voicing her very fears that they’d be real, that she’d lose the babies then and there.
He was sitting by her side on the bed almost before she could blink. Leaning down, Jamsheed swept her up into his arms and kissed her forehead then trailed his lips down her cheek. “I won’t let that happen. Fate has to listen to sheikhs, most of the time.”
“Not always,” she said, hiccuping a little.
“My father is still hanging in there, still has the best medical care. I will have the same for you.” He pressed a palm to her belly. “Our children are fighters because their mother is a fighter.”
“And they’re confident because you never back down from anything,” she echoed, laughing a bit at all of Jamsheed’s bravado.
“True, but that’s a good thing.”
She nodded and wiped at her eyes. “Then this part is going to sound incredibly stupid because it’s the most shallow thing, but I have to be honest too. Part of my fear is that you won’t lo…like me,” she corrected quickly. Neither of them had confessed their love to each other, even though she lost her heart utterly to Jamsheed, and she knew that now. “I’m going to get so fat.”
“You think I care about that?”
“Yes?”
He snorted and stroked her hair. “If all of your beautiful red hair fell out, if you were bald as a crone, I’d still adore you. If you had boils or a hacking cough or even horns…”
She nodded. “I get it, and let’s not give Fate any ideas.”
“I think there will be no more sexy or enticing a sight on Earth than you before me and with your belly rounded with child.”
“Children,” she corrected. “With three children. As in the number after two. I’m going to need my own zip code and flares or one of those side trucks to trail behind me with a sign saying ‘wide load.’”
Jamsheed stood and started to strip off his clothes. “Jazmina will take some time gathering everything.”
“And?”
He unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor and then worked quickly on shedding his Oxford shirt. This was the part of the day she loved the best. They had sex every day since she came to Zomelia except when he had to travel on business. In fact, it had been a week since they’d been intimate. However, every time he did take off his shirt, Brenda was treated to one of the most glorious sights on earth: Jamsheed’s bare chest.
He didn’t have the Schwarzenegger muscles of someone who lived at the gym, but his lean swimmer’s build was amazingly sculpted. He had broad shoulders that tapered into a thin waist. His torso was carved as if he were a Greek god come to life, and she had, on more than one occasion, traced her tongue over the ample ridges of his eight pack.
For now, at least, she was his, and he was the most handsome man she’d ever known.
“Now, will you be a good girl and slip off your pants for me?” he asked, his voice so low and husky that wetness was already pooling between her legs.
She nodded and slipped the yoga pants off, shimming them off her hips as best as she could from her position on the mattress. “I’ll always do anything for you, my sheikh.”
“Not always, and I love that about you,” he said, stalking up from the foot of the bed with the grace of a jungle cat. “You’re fiery and stubborn, phoenix, and I need that from somebody.”
He emphasized his point by kissing his way up her left leg, inch by inch, as his right hand traced a pattern over her leg. It felt like Fourth of July sparklers were crackling and coming to life all over her skin, the heat and unpredictability of it cause warmth to flare from her belly to her core and the wetness to spread even further. Jamsheed kissed her knee, letting his tongue play across the joint. Then he raised his head.
“I’d never get tired of this, never grow tired of you, and I need you to understand that. I know it’s hard, but I care about you so much, my sheikha. I’d never give this title to anyone else. Soon my bride.”
He went back to his ministrations, now trailing his tongue up her thigh and reaching the apex of her thighs. Running the tip of his nose along her inner thigh as if savoring her, he drew the fingers of his right hand up and to her most delicate lips. They stroked her folds carefully, painting patterns there until he fully opened them. His forefinger pressed against her precious pearl and more sparklers exploded over the length of her body, the light and heat of it arcing over her body. Then he lunged forward.
His tongue was on her folds, lapping over them like a man dying for water in the desert. Jamsheed wrapped his lips around her rosebud and applied just the barest hint of pressure. The sparks were like a riot through her body, an assault of light and heat that drove her mad. Gentle flicks gave way to intense, demanding suckling and she knew what he was doing, could hear him as he laved up her juices as if they were the sweetest nectar of the most valued honey pot.
His goatee scraped just a bit against her thigh, that tickle of scruff that drove her mad, and she screamed even as she dug her heels more deeply into the mattress.
“God, yes, Jamsheed. Please never stop.”
His pacing increased as he slid two, thick fingers inside of her channel, filling her almost as surely as if his length were inside her as well. There was no true replacement for his erection, but his broad digits came close. She bucked her hips up to meet him as his lips and tongue and fingers did naughty things to her body, as the contented slurps he made blended with her screams in the morning air.
Then he
applied just the slightest hint of teeth to her nub of nerves, and she came, her body erupting into fireworks more bright and vibrant than any New Year’s Eve celebration. When she was aware of herself again, sat up on her bed. Jamsheed had gone to the bathroom to clean up and returned soon in boxers but no shirt, a concession to her that she adored.
She still wanted more and knew that once she recovered she’d take care of him in turn, ride him like the wild mustang he was.
He slipped into the bed beside her and she spooned up against his glorious chest. “Do you understand now even a fraction of what you mean to me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I just hope everything will be okay.”
“I know it will be.”
Chapter Ten
Six Months, Three Weeks Pregnant…
“Mom, stop worrying, you know you look amazing!” Haley said, adjusting the veil. “You’re going to do great at the ceremony.”
Brenda waddled—at just over six months pregnant with triplets there was nothing else she could do—over to the foot of the bed she shared with Jamsheed: the man who would be her husband in only a few short hours.
She loved her fiancé and she loved her children. Thanks to the influx of hormones and at triple the rate of her last pregnancy, Brenda would sometimes find herself bursting into tears just because of how happy she actually was. However, she was still ready to be done with the pregnancy. She wanted her children there so she could hold them in her arms, so that she could see into their eyes and see their father reflected back at her. She just knew all of three sets would be amber.
What she wanted was to no longer feel were the night sweats, the back pain, the swollen feet, and, recently, the dizziness from her climbing blood pressure. Soon, they’d have to induce, even earlier than Dr. G wanted if they couldn’t get her blood pressure down.
The hard parts drained her, but soon she’d have her children—all four, now that Haley graduated early—under her roof.
“I think I might look like I’m wearing a circus tent,” she said, trying to fan herself with part of her bed sheet. It was hot in Zomelia under the best of circumstances, but when she was wearing a wedding dress and almost seven months pregnant, it was like being in the ninth circle of Hell. “I just… every dignitary, every person who matters is going to be there. Ugh, they even had to invite Abir. ‘Formal custom,’ they said.”
“The guy who looks like he’s auditioning to be Rasputin? Yeah, I saw him. Talk about a total creeper.”
Brenda chuckled. Over her second trimester, it had been such a joy to have her daughter with her, even if the revelation of her siblings had thrown Haley at first. Of course, everyone took time to adjust to triplets. Brenda still was, and she might be until they were older. Like in high school.
“I’m glad you’re here. I mean what I’ve said before. I don’t want you to feel like the babies are replacing you, or like things will change just because you have a new stepfather. We’re still us, that dynamic duo we always were. We just have something extra.”
Her daughter laughed. “Oh, we definitely have something extra going on. I’ll say!”
“I’m serious. How do you really feel?”
Haley laughed and twisted a finger through one of the curls of her auburn hair. “The horse is out of the barn now. We can’t go back, and I wouldn’t want to. I can’t pretend to understand how fast this all happened.”
“Well, you’re not alone in that. I know it was a whirlwind.”
“And maybe just a little hint of ‘shotgun,’” Haley continued. “But you’re smiling. Mom, I haven’t seen you smile like this, maybe ever.”
“I have with you.”
Haley snorted. “Yeah, sure, we have a blast but I mean there’s this other smile, this like secret smile you had and I only see it when you and Jamsheed look at each other. That’s what I mean. There’s something about your love that gets to both of you, that makes you glow.”
“He hasn’t. I mean, well, we haven’t said the ‘I love yous’ yet.”
Haley frowned and patted her knee. “I don’t understand. Why not?”
“Maybe we were saving it for the big day today. I know that I didn’t say it first because I was scared that, you’re right, it happened so fast. Maybe he’s with me because of obligation. I’m afraid even now, as crazy as this is, if I say ‘I love you first’ that I won’t hear it back. It’ll be like being pantsed, just open air exposed and embarrassed.”
“Mom, trust me, it’s going to be fine. You’ll say your vows, kiss, and then over the cake—because as pregnant as you are a first dance is so a no—you two will look into each other’s eyes and the I love yous will come. It’ll be totally Disney.”
Brenda laughed at her daughter’s way with words and then patted her belly. “I don’t think Disney really anticipated triplets.”
“He did have 101 Dalmatians.”
“Well, most of those were adopted. The point is, I think I’m always just a little bit scared. I know how hard it is to cobble yourself back together.”
“You won’t have to this time,” Haley said, hugging her as best she could. As they pulled apart, a loud clapping sounded out in the air around them.
“Well, well,” Abir said. And, to her horror, as he entered into the bedroom, he did so with a gun in his hand and five men in suits as armed and angry-looking behind him. “I think everything looks like a happy ending… until now.”
Brenda couldn’t leap up. Her body wasn’t made for that now. Hell, it was hard for her to move much at all. Sometimes Haley joked that she was like one of those huge, unwieldy Weebles, those bobble-shaped kids’ punching bags. The comparison seemed to fit. She felt like she bobbed like a blob most days; seeing her feet was a pipe dream.
Still, Brenda tried to stand, struggled and groaned to get to her feet to protect Haley, who, currently, was standing between her and Abir.
Reaching her hand up, Brenda set it on her eldest’s shoulder. “Honey, don’t do that. Let me talk to Abir.” Of course, judging from the from the armed men he surrounded himself with and the semiautomatic in his hands, he wasn’t going to do much talking. Her heart sped up and sweat beaded on her brow. “What’s going on? Just leave my daughter alone.”
Abir stroked his long beard and shook his head. “She’s the one who insists in standing in the way of what I want, but I suppose it’s ‘like mother, like daughter.’ You’ve been ruining my plans for months, infidel.”
“Hey!” Haley barked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t insult my mom, and you’re not getting anywhere near her.”
Brenda reached for the fabric of her daughter’s sleeve and pulled tightly on it, forcing her back to the mattress. “Haley, no.”
Abir laughed, a long grating sound that would haunt her nightmares—if she lived. “You should listen to your mother, you foolish girl. You think you’re being brave, but you’re showing off how stupid you really are. I have five armed men and weapons of my own. Why do you think you could stop anything?”
“Because it’s my family, and you can’t hurt them,” Haley said, her voice still level but her body tensing as she spoke. “If you need a hostage, then take me. That’s all you need to do, take me instead.”
He laughed again, and Brenda would never forget the sound for as long as she lived. “Because your mother’s brats stand between me and the throne. I worked hard to have my uncle poisoned in such a way that the stroke wouldn’t look unnatural, that people wouldn’t suspect me. I have my family, followed the rules, and now my womanizing excuse for a cousin will be taking everything I’ve worked for—with half-American children, at that.”
“You did what?!” Brenda asked, not believing that Jamsheed’s agony and the long months of hoping the old sheikh—still on life support—would pull through.
“You’re a monster!” Haley shouted, hopping to her feet again.
Abir rolled his eyes and hit Hayley hard in the temple with the butt of his weapon. Brenda screamed as her daught
er stumbled and fell to the floor, a trail of blood leaking from her temple. She scurried as best as she could to the floor, getting her hand to her daughter’s head and trying to mop the blood away with her veil. Haley’s breathing was shallow but still there, but she needed a doctor.
Brenda tensed as pain tore through her abdomen and the cramps started in earnest. Her body tensed, and she wanted to scream. Fire shot through her veins, and pain racked her.
Oh god, I can’t be starting labor. Is it my blood pressure? The babies?
She clutched one hand to her stomach and the other to Haley’s temple. “Please, we need help.”
Abir reached down and wrenched her to her feet. “You have no idea how right you are.”
***
“It’s Haley and Brenda, come now, my sheikh.”
Those words had cut through him like a knife ever since Jazmina had rushed into the mosque’s antechamber. It hadn’t even been time for him to take his place at the altar, and he’d assumed that the two most important women in his life were going through the final rituals to make themselves ready for the wedding, whatever type of makeup procedures they needed. He had no idea any trouble at all was brewing.
But the look on Jazmina’s face told him he was wrong.
He rounded the corner to the bedroom and wanted to vomit when he found Haley lying there, her hair on the right side matted with her own blood. He slid down beside her and cradled his stepdaughter in his arms.
“Haley? Oh Allah, please, can you hear me?”
After the longest moment of his life, Haley’s eyes fluttered and she blinked back up at him. “Jamsheed? Where is she?!” She tried to bolt upright in his arms, but he held her still.
“You can’t move. You need for one of my father’s neurologists to look you over. This head wound could be serious.”
Haley, rubbed at her head. “I know and I feel like someone took a drill to my brain, but Mom! She was here. He took her and the babies.”
