The Sheiks of the Arabian Coast Series: 5 Book Box Set

by Erin Snihur

  Teresa stared at her sister’s back before turning to the phones on the bed. Clutching her phone tightly in her hand, Teresa swiped it unlock, ignoring the words spewing from her sister’s mouth as she laid into Gerry.

  As she hit the messages button, Teresa’s eyes grew wide at the sight of hundreds of messages from Gerry. At the beginning were his cruel words about the prospect of being served with the divorce papers, but they slowly became insistent and even confusing. Some said ‘you need to get home now’. And then, at the bottom, the message that Teresa had never thought to see.

  Teresa, your mother’s been in an accident. You need to get home now! I know we’ve had our issues, but she needs you and Samantha.

  Finally, there’s a few voicemails. Clicking them, Teresa hears the usual frantic voice from Gerry, urging her to call him and take him back until the crisp, cool voice of a woman comes on. A nurse from their local hospital, asking for Teresa and Samantha to return her call immediately regarding their mother and her car accident.

  “Sam!” Teresa’s outburst halts Samantha from picking apart Gerry, who merely stands there, taking it with a solemn expression on his face.

  As her sister turns to face Teresa, she feels the tears beginning to roll down her face, “It’s mom. There’s been an accident.”

  14

  Amoz watched from the upper balcony of the lobby as the woman, who very well could have been the woman of his dreams, scurries to the front desk with her sister and husband in tow. As her husband sets their suitcases down, his hand comes up to rub Teresa’s back soothingly.

  Amoz wanted to strangle the man in that moment. Hell, he wanted to strangle both of them. Was everything she’d told him a lie? How could a woman lie about such things?

  What a fool he’d been. Taking a sip of his drink, Amoz watched as they checked out of the hotel while Samantha was on her cell phone yelling, but her words didn’t carry very far. As he turned his eyes back on the woman who had tricked him into falling for her in a way, he’d promised he never would with a woman, Amoz cursed. The front desk clerk had walked away to finalize their checking out and Teresa was now being held by her husband. The man who had apparently abused her. No woman who had been abused in the way Teresa had described would allow such a thing.

  Cursing to himself, Amoz watched as Teresa’s husband and Samantha moved toward the waiting taxi with their luggage. Teresa remained behind at the desk and was writing something on a card. Giving the front desk clerk the card, Amoz watched as she departed the hotel, disappearing out of view.

  Forever.

  Clutching his glass so tightly it chipped slightly, Amoz set the glass down and tried to breathe through his anger. He should head to the gym or to the training yards in the capital. There he could work out his anger and foolishness in a productive way.

  As the front desk clerk stepped around the desk and walked the winding staircase toward him, Amoz cursed again, this time in Arabic. The clerk flinched as he approached, sensing Amoz’ mood.

  “A note, your Majesty, from Mrs. Evans,” the clerk murmured and, before Amoz could howl in pain at the idea of her being a Mrs. anything, the clerk left the note in Amoz’ outstretched hand and scurried off to hide from his Sheik’s anger.

  Staring at the feminine scrawl of his name on the folded piece of paper, Amoz contemplated ripping it to shreds, but paused. He needed closure. Let him see what other lies she would spin.

  Opening the note, Amoz stared at the one line in the familiar handwriting.

  I’m sorry. I will always cherish paradise. Teresa.

  Crumpling the paper up and discarding it in his drink, Amoz’ stomach soured. Ignoring the shuffled sounds of Palo’s feet approaching him, Amoz finally opened his eyes from his brooding and turned his head toward his most trusted advisor.

  “Find me a wife, Palo. I need an heir,” Amoz muttered softly and the only indication Palo heard was the shuffling of his feet departing. Left wallowing in his misery, Amoz leaned back in the chair and stared at the painted ceiling of his resort.

  How could you, Teresa?

  15

  Teresa was in shock. Leaning against the counter of the hospital’s public bathroom, she flipped her phone between her fingers. At the sound of the timer going off on her phone, Teresa shuts it off and closes her eyes as her heart rate skyrockets. Breathing steadily once more, Teresa opens her eyes and picks up the pen like object.

  Heart plummeting, Teresa doesn’t stop the tears that well up in her eyes at the sight of the blue line. Clutching the pregnancy test to her chest, Teresa covers her mouth with her other hand to stifle her sob.

  Pregnant. How could this have happened?

  Shaking her head, Teresa caps the top of the test and throws it into her purse. Facing the mirror, she stares at her reflection, thinking back to just a few weeks ago when she was standing in the mirror with Amoz as he made love to her pressed against the counter in his suite’s bathroom.

  Shuddering at the memories, Teresa’s hand instinctively moved to her stomach. The nausea and exhaustion made sense, but at the same time, she had been too busy trying to arrange for her mother’s care.

  Oh no, mom! Teresa inwardly thought and quickly washed her hands before rushing out of the bathroom, intent on getting to her mother’s room before her mother woke up.

  With her mind racing as she opened the bathroom door, Teresa barely had a moment to pause before colliding with another person.

  “Hello, wife,” Gerry’s icy voice spoke and Teresa thrashed out of his arms, backing away as she scanned the area. Thankful that they were close enough to the nurses’ station that a few nurses eyed them with curiosity.

  “What are you doing here?” Teresa asked with a glare. After coming out of her shock and thanks to Samantha’s slick maneuvering, she had managed to have the restraining order re-enforced upon their arrival in Colorado a few weeks ago. When her mother awoke and the awful truth of her memory loss discovered, it had killed Teresa all over again to have to explain to her mother why her favorite son-in-law wasn’t around.

  “I came to see you. I’ve missed you, Teresa, don’t tell me you haven’t missed me, too?” Gerry asked, his pale face growing with his sickly-sweet smile that made her stomach revolt.

  Shuddering to keep the nausea at bay, Teresa shook her head and made eye contact with a passing nurse, but the woman only rushed off in the opposite direction.

  “You can’t be here, Gerry. If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police. They’ll throw you in jail for breaking the restraining order,” Teresa said, trying to reason with him. He’d been a smart man once, why hadn’t he realized she was serious about the divorce.

  Shaking his head, Gerry stared at her wildly. “I can’t just leave you to deal with your mother alone. I mean, where the heck is your sister, anyway? I told you she didn’t have the consideration to help you deal with all of this.”

  Running her hands through her greasy hair, Teresa grimaced. It had been a few days since she’d showered and left the hospital. She’d slept in a chair by her mother’s bed on the off chance the injured woman woke and needed anything. Now she was regretting it. Everything was happening too fast. First her mother, then Gerry and now the baby.

  The baby! In her mind, she saw him or her. Lightly tanned, a mix of Amoz and Teresa. Perfect green eyes or maybe pale eyes like Amoz with dark reddish hair. A perfect bundle of joy. A bundle she had to protect.

  Clenching her fists, Teresa leveled Gerry with a glare. “Leave, Gerry. Now, I won’t tell you again. This is a restricted floor and you aren’t on my mother’s list of allowed visitors. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops and tell them to arrest you for harassment.”

  Sputtering, Gerry moved forward trying to reach out and touch her, but Teresa jumped back from his grasp as he hissed, “We are married, Teresa. You wouldn’t do that.”

  Sighing, Teresa pinched the bridge of her nose before pulling her hands away and staring at Gerry, seeing the deranged man he’d
become. “Not anymore. I signed the papers this morning. In a few weeks, our divorce will be official.”

  Mouth gaping open, Gerry’s face turned bright red as he began yelling and screaming. When security arrived and they asked if Teresa wanted them to call the police, she nodded, on autopilot. She told them he was in violation of a restraining order and that she wanted to charge him with further harassment.

  It wasn’t until Gerry was being dragged away by a cop and report given that Teresa breathed a sigh of relief. Hand lightly pressed to her stomach, Teresa smiled slightly as a feeling of happy warmth grew there.

  It’s just you and me now, little one.

  16

  Six months later...

  “Darling, shouldn’t you be resting?” Teresa’s mother, Linda Monet, called out from her seat in the wheelchair sitting in the middle of Teresa’s living room.

  Rolling her eyes, Teresa flitted about the kitchen, intent on finishing their simple lunch. She hoped she could finish before the nausea that had followed Teresa for the past six months forced its way back and she’d be unable to eat.

  “I’m fine, mom. I can make a simple sandwich with chips,” Teresa chuckled.

  “I just worry. My pregnancies were never easy,” her mother murmured before turning her eyes back onto the TV, where her favorite soap opera was playing.

  Teresa paused in reaching for the bag of potato chips to place on their sandwich plates. Running her free hand over her small bump, Teresa warmed at the flutters of movement her baby gave back at the touch of its mother's hand.

  “I know, Mom. The doctor said everything was fine, other than the nausea, I should be able to gain some weight back on after the seven-month mark,” Teresa murmured.

  As if Teresa hadn’t said anything at all, her mother continued, “I had your father to lean on when I was pregnant with you and your sister. He was a good husband and father. Shouldn’t you have Gerry beside you? A child should know his father.”

  Sighing to herself, Teresa opened the bag of chips and brought out their plates. Setting them on the small table trays, Teresa forced a cheerful smile on her face for her mother’s benefit.

  “Gerry and I are divorced. Remember, mom?” Teresa said hopeful as her mother stared up at her daughter with those familiar green eyes so like her own, but she saw no recognition of the facts stated.

  Gasping in delight, Teresa watched as her mother motioned to Teresa’s small but obvious stomach, “You’re finally starting to show! Oh, how exciting! When were you going to tell me you and Gerry were expecting?”

  Inwardly cringing, Teresa collapsed into her seat and dragged her own tray closer. Her energy was waning. It would only be a few more hours before Samantha returned from work, then her sister would relieve Teresa so that she could get some rest and resume getting the nursery ready for the new baby.

  “Oh, Teresa, don’t slouch, have you remembered nothing from your lessons as a child? How are you ever going to find a husband with a crooked back?” Teresa’s mother crooned before her eyes shifted to her sandwich and the TV, “Oh, good lunch is served and my favorite program is on!”

  Forcing a smile on her face, Teresa sat up straighter, wincing as her sore back muscles twinge. She hadn’t been sleeping well, so it was no wonder why her mother commented on her appearance. The dark circles under her eyes and her pale skin were no doubt obvious.

  As she tried to eat, Teresa kept her gaze darting back to her mother as she watched the woman take bites of her food and mumble to herself every so often as she watched the TV with avid interest.

  Teresa recalled the moment she and Samantha had received the doctor’s verdict. According to the medical reports, her mother had been in the grocery store and taken a tumble. Claiming to be alright, her mother had gotten into her car and from there had an accident a few blocks away. Thankfully, no one else had been harmed.

  Unfortunately, when she’d miraculously woken from the medically induced coma the doctors had put upon her to reduce the swelling on her brain, Linda Monet had been confused and blathering about missing Teresa’s wedding to Gerry as if it had just happened. Then she’d demanded to see her husband and he would get this mess sorted out.

  It had been a difficult time trying to explain everything to their mother. She’d never recovered. The doctor had claimed with everyday her mind would drop further into confusion until she couldn’t remember anything of her past correctly. Teresa watched as her mother hesitated to put a potato chip in her mouth.

  “Mom? You okay?” Teresa asked as her mother stared at the chip.

  Her mother moved her dull gaze from the food to Teresa and instantly brightened, “Teresa! Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re here. Your father went out to pick up dessert. I shouldn’t ruin my appetite with these chips!”

  Glancing at her mother's half-eaten sandwich and barely touched chips, Teresa forced a smile on her face and stood. “Of course, mom. You’re right. I’ll ask Samantha to pick up a cake. You deserve it.”

  As she stood, her mother's gaze once again grew dull before focusing on Teresa’s protruding stomach. “You’re pregnant! Oh, darling, I’m so happy! When were you going to tell me?”

  Teresa smiled and knelt down as best she could to kiss her mother's cheek. “Surprise, Grandma.”

  “Marvelous! Who is the father? It isn’t that silly boy next door, is it? You know, he was always more interested in your sister, so be careful. I don’t want my girls fighting,” her mother smiled and patted Teresa’s hand.

  Teresa smiled back recalling her sister’s whirlwind romance with their childhood next-door-neighbor. She couldn’t recall his name, but she’d known her sister had loved that boy, even after he’d gone off and joined the army. It had crushed Samantha. Something she never spoke about.

  “You don’t know the baby's father. He’s not from around here,” Teresa murmured softly as she stroked aside her mother's once vibrant black hair which had now dulled into a silvery grey.

  “Well, tell me about him then? Is he a good husband to you?” her mother asked curiously.

  Blushing, Teresa shook her head. “We aren’t together. We weren’t even a real couple.”

  Without stopping them, Teresa’s eyes filled with tears and they trailed down her cheeks. Her mother's aging hands came up and brushed them aside. Teresa hadn’t been able to think about Amoz without crying lately. Samantha claimed it was hormones, but Teresa was certain it was something more.

  “Hush, dear. Do you love him?” her mother asked.

  “I think I was starting to, but it can’t happen. He doesn’t belong in this life,” Teresa stood to full height and ran a hand lovingly over her stomach. “He gave me a great parting gift though.”

  Her mother sighed and sat back in her wheelchair. “What was his name?”

  “Amoz. He was a great man, Mom, you would have liked him,” Teresa murmured and, before she could break out in heartbreaking sobs, Teresa pushed all thoughts of the man of her dreams from her mind and forced a smile on her face.

  “How about a game of cards, mom?” Teresa asked and watched as her mother's face shifted from solemn to a beaming smile.

  “Yes, of course! Grab the cards, Samantha!” her mother called as she tried to shift herself in the wheelchair, only to give up when it wouldn’t budge.

  Laughing to herself, Teresa flicked the brakes off the chair and motioned to the small table in the corner of their small three-bedroom apartment. “Start shuffling and I’ll put our plates aside.”

  As she made her way into the kitchen, Teresa’s eyes strayed to her reflection in the mirror in their hallway. All she saw were her pale, sickly skin and purple smudges under her eyes. Teresa sighed and pressed another hand to her stomach where she felt the flutters of her baby's movement.

  “It’s just you and me, little one. I love you so much.”

  “You’d think she’s never even seen snow before,” Tariq murmured to Amoz from the side of the rural highway. Around them, security guards stood silen
tly as Tariq, Amoz and Malik watched Malik’s wife, Samara, frolic in the Colorado snow with Malik’s dog, Ayo.

  Chuckling when Samara threw up a pile of snow into the air, only for the playful dog to jump in the air trying to catch it, Amoz finally turned away from the scene.

  “Leave her alone. They didn’t have a lot of snow in England, mostly rain,” Malik murmured and ignored his friends as he strode past his security team and moved in his wife's direction.

  Amoz couldn’t watch the sickening scene any longer when Malik picked up Samara and spun her around. Hearing her squeals of delight and the barks of the dog only reminded Amoz of her. How could it be that after six months, everything reminded him of her. Teresa Evans. Damn her and the spell she’d placed on me.

  “Why exactly did they invite us on this trip if they were only going to maul each other?” Amoz grunted and pulled his winter jacket closer around him. With every breath, the air turned around him as if he’d been smoking. Fascinating.

  “Leave them be,” Tariq murmured, turning back to Amoz who stared across the valley on the other side of the highway. “You know, it is interesting that we find ourselves in Colorado. Do you think she…”

  “If you finish that sentence, I will throw you in the river. The guards won’t be able to stop me,” Amoz growled and pushed away from the waiting car to stomp down the empty highway. He needed to get away from Tariq, from Malik and hell, even Samara, Malik’s sweet wife, who’d treated Amoz as if he were her own brother.

  Tariq’s easygoing laughter followed him, much to Amoz’ displeasure. Grasping Amoz by the shoulders, Tariq turned his friend around and raised an eyebrow at the man.

  “I didn’t mean any offense, old friend. I know they live here. Samantha told me,” Tariq murmured. “I was merely making an observation to see how you’d react and you reacted like a man being forced into a cage. Like you were ready for battle.”