In Too Deep (8 page)

He lifted his head to meet her gaze. “But will there be other babies…for us, Carmen? For you and me?”

Carmen knew what he was asking. He'd once told her that he didn't want any other woman to have his child but her. And from the look in his eyes he still wanted that. He wanted to know if their relationship would ever get back to the way it was, when he was her whole world and she was his.

She shifted slightly in his embrace to wrap her arms
around his neck. She wanted to make sure he heard what she was about to say. “I never stopped loving you, Matthew. The reason I wanted that baby so much was because it was a part of you, and a part of me. And the reason I hurt so much afterward was because I thought I had lost that connection. I thought the baby would bring us back together.” She paused a second and then said, “But I've discovered that all it takes to bring us back together is us. Being with you here this past week has shown me there is still an us, and I want that back so badly. I was never involved with Bruno. It was all a publicity stunt. The only man I ever wanted to belong to was you. Can you forgive me for shutting you out of my life when I needed you most? Can you forgive me for running away? I will never leave you again.”

“Oh, Carmen. I need you to forgive me, as well. I love you so much. I was so driven to give you the things you were used to having that I lost focus, I forgot about those things that truly mattered. You, and truly making you happy. I've been so lonely without you. And Candy, too, was just a publicity stunt. Hell, I was looking forward to spending time without her here. But when I arrived and discovered you, I wanted you to stay. At first I wanted revenge, to hurt you the way I was hurting, but I soon discovered it couldn't be that way with us.”

She nodded. “I was going to make you want me and then leave again. Instead I ended up wanting you so badly I didn't know what to do.”

“We're going to handle our business differently from here on out,” he declared. “I've learned this week that I can balance my work and the rest of my life. Will you give me another chance to prove it?”

Carmen smiled up at him as he pushed back a strand of hair from her face. “I want that, too, Matthew.”

“And will you marry me, Carmen?”

She felt more tears come to her eyes. “Yes, yes, I will marry you, and this time will be forever.”

“Forever,” he said, bending down to kiss her. And the kiss they shared was full of promise for a brighter and happier future. Together, knowing what they now knew about each other, they would be able to do anything.

Moments later he broke off the kiss and stood with her in his arms. She recognized the look he was giving her. “What about the polo match?” she asked.

He chuckled as he crossed the room to the bed. “There will be others.”

Carmen knew he was right. Being in his arms and making love to him was what she needed. They were being given another chance at happiness and were taking it.

“It will be me and you together, Carmen, for the rest of our lives.”

She reached up and caressed the side of his face. “Yes, Matthew, for the rest of our lives.”

A
rdella rushed over to them the moment Matthew and Carmen entered the tent, and from the anxious look on her face it was evident she was looking for a scoop. This time Matthew and Carmen didn't mind giving her one.

“So you two, what are you smiling about?”

Matthew pulled Carmen closer to his side. “It's a beautiful day and we believe it will be a good polo match.”

The woman gave them a sly look. “I think there's something else.”

Carmen decided to take Ardella out of her inquisitive misery. “There is something else and you can say you heard it right from us. Matthew and I have decided to remarry.”

The smile on the woman's face appeared genuine. “I am truly happy for you two, but you know everyone will want details and facts.”

Carmen threw her head back. “Sorry, but some things
we plan to keep secret and sacred.” She refused to spill the beans about their plan to have a private ceremony on the beach here in the Hamptons this weekend. The first person she'd called was Rachel who had been supremely ecstatic.

“Matthew, will Carmen star in any future Birmingham movies?”

Matthew glanced down at Carmen and chuckled. “Ardella, Carmen can do anything Carmen wants.”

Ardella beamed. “I will take that as a yes.”

“You do that,” Matthew said. And, knowing that Ardella probably had her secret camera ready, with the profound tenderness of a man who was in love, he pulled Carmen into his arms and kissed her.

No one would understand the emotions flowing through him at that that moment. They were the heartfelt emotions of a man meant to cherish the woman he loved. A man who'd recently realized that he really was husband material.

Carmen's heart was just as full and later, as she and Matthew sat beside each other watching the polo match, she couldn't help but wipe a tear from her eye. They had talked and together had promised not to let anything or anyone come between them again.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Carmen glanced up at Matthew and nodded. “I couldn't be better.” She paused and, still holding his gaze, whispered, “I love you.”

A smile touched his lips. “And I love you.”

She leaned closer to him when he tightened his arms around her shoulders. She was happy about the future that lay before them. He wanted to try again for a baby and so
did she. But right now she looked forward to being Carmen Aiken Birmingham again.

She smiled, liking the sound of that and deciding to show him just how much when they returned home later. Life was good but being with the man you love, she decided, was even better.

OLIVIA GATES

To the many fabulous ladies who made this novella and this exciting miniseries come to life.

My senior editor, Krista Stroever, for the wonderful premise and the unstinting guidance, and authors Brenda Jackson, Yvonne Lindsay, Catherine Mann, Katherine Garbera and Emily McKay for all the fun and helpful collaboration.

It was a great experience working with you all.

I can't wait to do it again!

T
hree weeks ago, Sabrina Grant married the man of her dreams.

Sheikh Adham ben Khaleel ben Haamed Aal Ferjani was a prince—literally—who'd charmed and captivated her from the moment she'd set eyes on him. He was everything a woman couldn't be creative enough to hope for. She loved him with every fiber of her being.

And she'd never thought she could be so miserable.

How had she ended up like this? Alone, discarded? This was the last thing she'd imagined when she'd said “I do.”

But then, she couldn't have imagined anything that had happened in the six weeks since her father's heart attack.

It had been late May, less than a week after she'd finished her postgraduate courses, and she'd been about to go home with two master's degrees in hand, when she'd been hit with the terrible news. She'd hurtled to his bedside, struggling with her anxiety as well as his, while fielding
those who'd come to pay tribute to her father, Thomas Grant, multimillionaire vineyard and winery owner. The stress had almost wrecked her…until his best friend had come to visit, accompanied by the most incredible man she'd ever seen. Adham.

She was bowled over. And to her stunned delight, he seemed as taken with her. The best part was that she was sure his interest had nothing to do with her father's fortune. Beyond being second in line to the throne of the staggeringly rich desert kingdom of Khumayrah, he was the owner of the largest horse farm in the States, with a fortune that made her father's look like change.

Adham started coming every day, enthralling her more each time. He kept her company in her vigil at her father's bedside, took her for meals and walks. His companionship bolstered her while each touch inflamed her. By the time she begged for him and he took her, it was only three weeks into their relationship, but she'd already stumbled head over heels in love with him.

Then the next day, her father told her that he was being discharged, and that Adham had asked for her hand in marriage. She was overwhelmed by relief and happiness. Her father was going to be okay, and Adham loved her as much as she loved him.

But she crashed down to earth when she talked to her father's doctors. They said they were releasing him only because he'd asked to die at home. There was no use performing open-heart surgery, or even a heart transplant, since his other systems had been severely damaged, and he had only a few days to live.

Both her father and Adham agreed on an immediate wedding so that her father could witness it. She wanted to give him whatever happiness she could in his last days, but
it was heart wrenching to know he wouldn't live to see her building a family with the man of her dreams.

Hours after the wedding, her father slipped into a coma. He died twenty-four hours later.

After such a tragic start to their marriage, it was the last thing she expected to have Adham whisk her away from her family home in Long Island, to deposit her in a mansion of his in New England and return to his obligations and duties. He came home only fleetingly, but certainly not to her.

She at first thought he was giving her time and space to mourn, so she tried to show him that she wanted nothing but to lose herself in his arms, that his intimacy would be the best salve for her grief.

When that didn't work, she looked everywhere for a reason for his withdrawal. She got a possible explanation when Jameel, his right-hand man who also supervised her
hashyah
—her entourage as a princess—told her there was a forty-day mourning period in Khumayrah, where normal life was interrupted to observe bereavement.

Now it was three weeks later, and she could no longer buy this. It was understandable to cancel their honeymoon in their situation, but to not come near her at all? To treat her like a stranger and not the bride she'd thought he hadn't been able to wait to possess again? That, she couldn't understand.

Just this morning, she'd again tried to speak to him. And again, he hadn't given her a chance.

He whisked her to the Hamptons for the start of the polo season, informing her of his many interests there. He was a player on one of the teams, as well as a patron who provided their horses, and a friend and associate to many of the pivotal people in the Bridgehampton Polo Club.

And here she was, in another one of his mansions, this
one even more impressive than the last—a spectacular estate on a dozen acres in a prime Bridgehampton South location, with a stunning floor plan, top-of-the-line building materials and masterful finishes. Its three floors covered thirty-six thousand square feet, and the grounds included a unique recreation pavilion. He'd said he liked to have his own residence when he came every year for the tournaments, and he needed all that space to accommodate his entourage and security.

He'd installed her in the master suite that boasted Bordeaux walnut floors, exquisite decor and an expansive en suite bathroom with gold fixtures and onyx walls and floors. The only thing it didn't include was her groom. “Sabrina.”

She jerked out of her morbid musings.
Adham.

His voice had come from the suite's sitting-room door. Fathomless, irresistible, the exotic inflections of his native Khumayran that mixed with his upper-crust British accent turning her name into an invocation.

In spite of the crushed expectations and confusion of the past weeks, hope surged, making her dizzy with it.

Maybe he would come to her at last. Maybe he
had
withdrawn to give her time to mourn her father, and had postponed their wedding night until he was sure she was up to withstanding his passion.

If that was it, she'd thank him for his consideration and adherence to his culture's mourning rituals, then scold him for not understanding the last thing she needed was to feel cut off with her grief. She didn't need space and time. She needed
him.

Her breath caught in her lungs as she leaned back on the king-size, white-lace-covered bed. He'd walk in any second now.

Seconds stretched. Then she heard his receding footsteps.

She sat up, stunned. He'd called only so she'd come out, and walked away when she hadn't, rather than be in a bedroom with her? Why?

Then
you
call
him,
you moron. Find out why. Once and for all.

“Adham.”

But she was too late. The door clicked closed behind him.

And she couldn't take it anymore. She exploded from the bed, running after him.

She called out again as she pursued him. But even though he must have heard her, he strode ahead undeterred.

This time, so would she. She had to get to the bottom of this or lose her mind.

She ran after him through the maze of a dazzling parterre, her heels grinding the gravel paths. She caught up with him before he lowered himself into the driver's seat of a gleaming black Jaguar that seemed like an extension of him, of his power and potency.

He turned to her, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, his face blank. God. She missed his smile.

“Sabrina.” That revving
R,
underlining his exotic origins, shuddered through her again. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I'd be narcoleptic if I were asleep every time you think I am.”

He didn't smile. Probably because of the bitterness that had stained her tone.

He looked down the eight inches between them—even with her three-inch heels—the wealth of his rain-straight hair gleaming like a raven's wing in the midday summer sun. She almost moaned as everything about him bombarded
her. His scent, his size, his beauty. He'd changed out of the casual clothes he'd worn while piloting the helicopter out to the Hamptons into one of those designer suits that made him look almost intimidating. At thirty-four, he was the epitome of everything male, of what she'd never imagined could be gathered in one man. And he was her husband. Yet he wasn't really hers at all.

Suddenly, all thoughts, all existence disappeared.

Adham was taking off his sunglasses, his golden eyes flaring with their emerald highlights, reaching out a hand to cup her face in a possessive palm. His thumb stroked her cheek, skimmed over her trembling lips, dipping into their moistness, spreading it over them, setting everything he touched on fire.

“You look edible,
ya jameelati.
”

Hearing him call her “my beauty,” and the way he was gazing at her as if he did want to devour her, thundered through her.

Her response was so fierce, it sent indignation rippling through her. “I look exactly the same as I did this morning. I haven't even changed out of my traveling clothes.”

“Then I beg your forgiveness for not noticing. I had too many urgencies on my mind. But that's no excuse. Nothing should have distracted me from
kanzi, aroosi
—my treasure, my bride.”

Before she could process his words, or register the surge of joy they elicited, his hand slid to her nape, holding her head captive, the other gathering her around her waist and lifting her off the ground, plastering her against his steel-fleshed body.

“Adham…” was all she gasped before his lips took hers.

He drank her moans, thrusting his tongue inside her, occupying her, intoxicating her. “
Aih, gooly esmi
haik
—say my name like that, like you can't draw breath with wanting me.”

“I can't….” She writhed in his arms, not caring that they were out in the open. She'd starved for him.

He turned, pressing her against the back passenger door, thrust against her, his daunting erection digging into her quivering stomach, his knee driving between her melting thighs.

One thing was left inside her mind, looping in a frenzied litany.
He wants me again.

“I would say get a room, but we're standing in front of a mansion with sixteen suites. And by the look of it, you've probably made thorough use of each and every one of them.”

The words, spoken by a deep, amused male voice, trickled through Sabrina's fevered awareness. She only understood that Adham was severing their meld and putting her back fully on her feet. She clung to him, panicked he'd drift away again.

But he brought her in front of him as he turned to the speaker, his arms gathering her tight, linking over her belly.

She blinked through the crimson haze of arousal at a tall, dark, handsome man standing a dozen feet away, his hands deep in the pockets of his ultra-chic pants. He looked highly entertained.

“And hello to you, too, Seb.” Adham's voice above her ear had more moist heat surging between her thighs. She struggled not to rub them together, to ameliorate the pounding there. “It's great that you came,
ya sudeeki,
so I can have the pleasure—” his hands brushed her belly with insistent caresses, his hardness jerking against the small of her back “—of introducing to you the love of my life, my bride, Sabrina Aal Ferjani.” Sabrina didn't know how she
remained upright after such a declaration. “
Ameerati,
let me introduce Sebastian Hughes, my friend and associate. He runs the Bridgehampton Polo Club in his father's stead.”

She extended a trembling hand to Sebastian, overwhelmed at Adham calling her “my princess” on top of everything else.

Sebastian placed a gallant kiss on her hand. “It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Sabrina.” He raised green eyes full of mischief, before he straightened to a height a couple of inches shy of Adham's six foot five. “And a shock. I never thought the day would come when Adham entered matrimony's gilded cage willingly.”

“I never thought it would, either.” Adham looked down, his gaze singeing her. “Until I met Sabrina. And then nothing could have kept me out of it. Not that anywhere she is could be called a cage, gilded or otherwise, but a haven.”

Sebastian barked a laugh. “Oh, man. You're spouting poetry! You must have potent magic, Sabrina. I can call you Sabrina, right?” Before she could blurt out an affirmation, Sebastian turned his teasing eyes to Adham. “You won't make me call her Princess Aal Ferjani, will you, Adham?”

Adham's smile flashed, riddling her vision in spots. “He's having a field day teasing me, since just before I met you, I told him that he'd never see me married. But then I can say the same about him. While we were falling in love, the world's foremost confirmed bachelor had a change of heart, too. It took his assistant almost leaving him to make him realize he can't live without her.”

Sebastian nodded whimsically. “Yeah. One thing for sure, Sabrina, Adham and I are both lucky dogs. And you and Julia must be saints for not only putting up with us, but for forgiving our trespasses and loving us nevertheless.”

“Why do you think Adham had any trespasses to forgive?” The question was out of her mouth before she could think.

Sebastian's lips twisted whimsically. “Because as an inveterate lone wolf, he must have committed some in his struggles not to succumb to his fate and his feelings for you. I know I did.”

Suddenly it felt like floodlights went on inside her head.

Could that be what the past weeks were about? Adham trying to adjust to being married, after a lifetime of thinking he'd never tie his life to another?

“So what brings you here, Seb?” Adham asked, interrupting her musings. “I was just coming to the farm myself.”

“I thought you wouldn't make it out on Sabrina's first day here, so I came to meet your bride and welcome her to our neck of the woods.”

“And now you have.” Adham turned his eyes to her. “And now that you're here, would you like to accompany me,
ya ameerati?
I'd love to give you a tour of the Seven Oaks Farm, where the polo club's tournaments take place.”

She almost jumped in his arms. “Oh, yes, please.”

Sebastian laughed. “And in case things get too hot for you during the tour, you can borrow my personal quarters at the farm to…cool off.”