Sheikh's Baby Bombshell (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Five weeks later... The Royal Palace of Dharbiri

‘But you’ve postponed the announcement of your engagement for a month as it is,’ Sheik Sayid Yasin Muhtadi said to Talib. ‘What is the point of putting off the inevitable?’

Inevitable
. Talib mentally rolled his eyes. Was there anything in his life that wasn’t inevitable? Predicted for him? Programmed? Planned?

He felt so hemmed in, so trapped. The wide-open spaces of the desert normally made him feel so free and unfettered, but now they were like the walls of a prison cell closing in on him.

His mind kept drifting back to that night in London with Abby Wright...how interesting she had been, how delightfully refreshing and unaffected. She had treated him like a normal person—as an equal. She hadn’t kowtowed to him or been intimidated by him.

It had been such a standout night for him. Make that
half
a night. That was another thing that irked him. She had left without saying goodbye. She hadn’t even left a note.

He wasn’t used to being left. He couldn’t remember a woman ever walking out on him before. He usually had to nudge them out of his life, to give them their ticket of leave accompanied by a consolation prize of expensive jewellery.

But ever since that night he’d felt as if his life was in limbo. He’d felt jammed. Stuck on pause.

Talib let out a heavy exhalation as he turned to face his father. ‘I’ll make the announcement in a week’s time.’

‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic.’

‘That would be because I’m not.’

‘Talib, you have a duty to—’

‘To what?’ Talib stared down his father. ‘To live a lie like you did with Mama? You hated each other from the minute you were shackled together in marriage. She’s been dead seventeen years and you still can’t think of a positive thing to say about your time with her.’

Sheik Sayid sighed. ‘I know, but that’s why such care has been taken over choosing your wife for you. Yashira is nothing like your mother. She is familiar with royal protocol, comes from an impeccable family and won’t bring disgrace or shame on your name.’

Talib had nothing personal against the girl. Yashira was beautiful and demure and...boring. He didn’t feel any attraction to her, physically or mentally.

Whereas with Abby—

He had to stop thinking about that girl!

‘There are people waiting outside the palace in expectation of an announcement,’ his father said. ‘They’ve been camped there for days.’

‘I want another week before I announce the engagement.’
The
engagement. Not
my
engagement.

‘But why?’ his father asked. ‘What’s got into you? You’ve not been the same since you went to London in May. You’ve seemed restless and on edge ever since you came back.’

Talib hadn’t realised he had been showing any outward sign of the inner turmoil he was experiencing. He knew what was expected of him. He’d known it for a long time. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel constrained by the role he’d been born into. He had the money to buy anything he wanted...
except his freedom
.

He was his father’s sole heir.

With his parents’ troubled marriage they had been lucky to produce one child, let alone a spare or two. He couldn’t abdicate even if he wanted to. He was born to be sheik and he would do it because his country desperately needed stability. It was a rocky region politically. Quarrels between various factions had broken out in neighbouring provinces and the threat of civil war was ever present. The old world and modernity constantly clashed. It would be his role as ruler to bring the two sides together in some sort of working compromise.

‘Nothing’s got into me.’

‘It’s because you spend so much time with that Caffarelli boy,’ his father said. ‘Remy is a loose cannon. I’ve always told you that. He and his older brothers are such rakes. You can’t live that life anymore, Talib. You are a desert prince. You have heavy responsibilities resting on your shoulders.’

Talib turned to look out the window and sighed.
Don’t remind me
....

Abby got off the tour bus just outside the royal palace of Dharbiri. There was an air of expectation in the air, an atmosphere of celebration as she joined the other tourists gathered outside the imposing-looking residence. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked a woman standing next to her holding an impressive-looking camera.

‘There’s a rumour Crown Prince Talib Firas Muhtadi is going to announce his engagement some time this week,’ the woman said. ‘I’ve been here for the last five days. I want to get the first picture of the royal couple.’

Abby felt her heart plummet. ‘Oh... how exciting....’

She had come all this way
...
.

She had found out who Talib was the morning after their night of passion. She had been absently leafing through a gossip magazine in a café when she saw his picture. The shock had made her spill her tea. But it was nothing to the shock of seeing those positive lines appear on the pregnancy test two days ago.

Abby hadn’t tried to call the palace, because she wasn’t sure if anyone would be listening in, even if by some remote chance she were put through to Talib. Servants and officials would surround him every minute of the day. How could she simply announce over the phone she was carrying his child? It was probably naively optimistic of her, but she had flown all this way hoping to catch a glimpse of him, to somehow get a message to him that she was here and would like to see him in private.

But how could she tell him now just days before the announcement of his engagement?

Abby turned away from the palace and, shielding her eyes from the blinding sun, looked at the dunes of the desert shimmering in the distance.

She suddenly felt a very long way from home.

Talib was still standing at the window of his private study after his father left when he caught a glimpse of a chestnut-haired girl standing apart from the crowd of onlookers and tourists that had spilled out of the tour buses. His heart gave a little kick against his chest wall. He had been doing it for the past month, imagining he was seeing her in the crowd. He narrowed his gaze in focus and, as he was looking, she turned away from the palace and began walking with dogged steps towards one of the tour buses. ‘
Abby?’

As if she heard him, the slim girl turned and gave the palace one last wistful look before turning back to the bus again.

Talib quickly phoned his personal assistant Isham. ‘There’s a young Englishwoman getting on tour bus number twenty-two at the palace gates. Her name is Abigail Wright. Take her to my private residence in the desert. Make sure no press or anyone knows she is my guest. Tell her I will join her shortly.’

‘Yes, Your Highness.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Erm...will you require a chaperone?’

‘No.’

CHAPTER FOUR

A
BBY
TRIED
TO
quell her panic as she was transported to a remote desert residence by a robed man who had said only five words to her since he had whisked her away from the other passengers on the bus:
He will join you shortly
.

She felt as if she had stepped into an Arabian Nights fantasy. The desert stretched out as far as the eye could see in rolling dunes of blindingly white sand, initialled by the wind’s ten thousand playful fingers. A bird of prey rode the thermal currents above, its lonely cry piercing the hot dry silent air.

There was a stark, almost savage beauty about the desert. It was untamed, wild, unexpected and treacherous.

‘This way.’

The robed official ushered her into a blessedly cool foyer where a large indoor fountain trickled over a marble statue. The floor and walls were all made of gold inlaid marble, and ornate bronze sconces were lit at various points, their leaping tongues of flame creating a golden glow across the area.

Abby turned in a slow circle to take it all in. ‘It’s so beautiful....’ She stopped and put a hand up to her throat when she saw a tall dark figure step out of the cool shadows. ‘Oh!’

Talib’s expression was impossible to read. ‘That will be all, Isham,’ he said to his servant. ‘I do not wish to be disturbed for the next twenty-four hours.’

Abby waited until the servant had gone before speaking. ‘I would’ve called, but I didn’t have your number and then I worried that someone would listen in and then I thought I’d just fly here and then I—sorry. I’m babbling....’

‘Why are you here?’

‘Um...’ Oh God, she couldn’t just dump it on him. She had to work up to it a bit. Garner her courage. ‘I was in the area and I thought I’d pop in and say hello?’

His frown brought his brows together. ‘It is very dangerous for you to be here. I am breaking ancient cultural mores by allowing you access to my private resort. Only royal family and dignitaries are allowed here.’

Abby took affront at his cool and distant manner. ‘You’re the one who had me brought here. I was just another tourist until I was whisked away. I didn’t know if I was being kidnapped or used as a hostage. I was scared out of my wits.’

‘I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but no one must know you are here.
No one.
Do you understand?’

‘Right. Got that.’

‘Isham will clear things with your tour company,’ he said. ‘When do you fly home?’

‘A week from today.’

He studied her face for a beat or two. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again.’

Abby still wasn’t able to make out his mood. His face was as unreadable as the four walls of marble that surrounded them. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again, either. I kind of hoped I would.... I mean that’s why I came out here, to see you. If I could...’

He came over to her and stopped right in front of her. Her breath stalled in her chest as he tipped her face upwards, his thumb moving over her chin in rhythmic fashion as his gaze held hers. ‘Why didn’t you leave a note or a number so I could contact you?’

Abby blinked at him in surprise. ‘You were going to contact me?’

His thumb stilled before he dropped his hand from her face, his face masklike again. ‘I would’ve liked the option.’

‘Yes, well, I’m not up-to-date on one-night-stand protocol. I thought it best to make an early exit in case you had another appointment lined up.’

Something hardened around his mouth. ‘I might have a reputation as a playboy, but I don’t have a revolving door on my bedroom.’

‘Is it true?’

‘Is what true?’

‘That you’re about to announce your engagement.’ Abby wasn’t sure why those words should hurt her so much, but they did.

Your
engagement. Not
our
engagement.

He stepped away with a frown as he raked a hand through his hair. ‘Yes.’

Ouch
.

‘Congratulations.’ Her face almost cracked on her forced smile.

‘It is my duty to marry and produce an heir.’ His tone was flat, as if he were reading the words from a formal document.

Abby had to stop her hand from straying to her abdomen to cover it protectively. ‘Do you love her?’

The shutter came back down over his face. ‘Love has nothing to do with the arrangement. In fact, it is better if it doesn’t.’

She frowned at him. ‘How can you do that? How can you marry someone you don’t love?’

His mouth had that grim set to it again. ‘It is my destiny. I have no choice but to fulfil my duty.’

‘It sounds like it totally sucks to be royal,’ Abby said. ‘I would hate someone telling me who I could or couldn’t marry. I would only ever marry for love.’

He looked at her for a long moment. He seemed to be memorising her features, one by one, storing them away for a time when he would revisit them. He touched her face again, an almost absent touch, as if he wasn’t quite sure if she was really standing there or just an apparition he had conjured up in his mind. ‘I’ve thought of you a lot over the last month.’ He traced a fingertip over her lower lip until every nerve was on fire. ‘Wondering what you were doing. Who you were with.’

Abby suppressed a little shiver. ‘Me, too... I mean I thought of you, not me. A lot. About what we did that night. The one-night-stand thing. It was fun—’
fun?
‘—I mean it was wonderful. The best night of my life, actually...’

His hands settled about her waist, his eyes dark and intense as they held hers. ‘Stay here with me this week. Just the two of us. Alone.’

Abby bit her lip until she tasted blood. ‘Talib...I have something to tell you. It’s the reason I’m here.... The thing is...I’m not sure how to say it. I’ve been rehearsing it for the last couple of days, but there’s no way of saying it without shocking you. I’m shocked myself. I nearly passed out when I saw those positive lines come up on the test....’

His face suddenly stilled and then drained of colour. ‘You’re...
pregnant?
’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘Y
ES
...’

Talib closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and Abby was still standing in front of him with those big nutmeg-brown eyes, her face looking pinched and worried. ‘You’re sure?’

She gave a miserable nod and said in a soft whisper. ‘I’m so sorry....’

He tightened his hands on her waist. ‘It’s mine?’ Her face immediately fell and he felt like a jerk for even asking. ‘Of course it’s mine. You wouldn’t have come all this way if it wasn’t, would you?’

Her forehead was puckered. ‘I don’t understand how it happened.’

Talib did. He had been very slow to withdraw the last time. He had wanted to hold her for as long as he could, to store the memory of her touch in his head. In his body.

‘Condoms can leak or tear.’ He held her against him, stroking her back to soothe her as he tried to think.

Abby was having a baby.

His baby
.

His heir.

‘Are you well? Is everything all right with the pregnancy so far?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. I feel fine. But I don’t want to get rid of it. Please don’t ask that of me.’ Her voice was soft but no less implacable.

Talib eased her away to look at her. ‘No one is going to make you do that, least of all me. I’ll sort something out. A way to manage this.’
There has to be a way to manage this
.

‘But you’re about to become engaged.’ Her expression was so crestfallen it pained him to witness it.

‘Not officially. I haven’t made any announcement as yet.’
And I don’t want to.
I
never wanted to marry Yashira.

‘But it’s not like you’re going to marry me instead,’ she said in a dispirited tone. ‘We don’t even know each other, not really.’

Talib felt he had learned more about her in that first five minutes of meeting her in the piano bar than he had learned about any other lover he had spent weeks or a couple of months with. Spending the night with her had only confirmed to him she was a one-in—a-million girl. A girl he hadn’t been able to forget. A girl he wasn’t finished with just yet.

Why couldn’t he marry her?

It would be a perfect solution. His people would be surprised, but they would soon get over it, especially if it looked like a love match. Yashira’s family would have to be paid off, but he had a feeling Yashira would be privately relieved at being released from the burden of being a royal princess. He’d heard a rumour she was interested in a young man from a neighbouring province, but he hadn’t been able to establish the veracity of it as yet.

Talib’s father would take a little more convincing, but he would do his best to present Abby in the best light possible. It was surely better to marry someone he knew he could have a passionate relationship with long enough to secure heirs. After that, if things soured, then no one would blame him for moving on with his life, as long as he did it discreetly as his father and forefathers had reputedly done.

He took her by the hands and brought her close to his body. ‘Marry me, Abby. Be my desert bride. Be the mother of my children.’

Her eyes widened. ‘But you don’t love me...do you?’

Talib felt a sharp tug on his conscience like a dog pulling on a tug-of-war toy. Abby was an old-fashioned girl who believed in fairytale endings. He was a little more streetwise and cynical. He knew romantic love was not a reliable emotion. But he wasn’t going to turn his back on his responsibility towards his child.

He would marry Abby because it was in the best interests of the baby and his country.

‘I want to be with you, Abby. I haven’t been with anyone else since that night. I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I think that’s a great basis for marriage, don’t you?’

She chewed at her lower lip, her forehead creased in a worried frown. ‘I didn’t come here to force your hand. I came here because I needed to tell you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to do it over the phone. I wanted to see you face-to-face. To tell you in person.’

Talib brushed his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face in his hands. ‘I’m glad you came, my little dove. I’ll make a public announcement soon. We will stay here until then, away from the prying eyes of the press. Once the news is made public we will have to be chaperoned until we are married according the ancient customs of the land.’

A flicker of uncertainty passed through her gaze. ‘It’s all happening so fast.... I can’t keep up. I have a life back home...a business to run. What will I tell my friends and my clients?’

He brought her up against his body where his need for her was thrumming. ‘Tell them you were swept off your feet by a handsome prince. That’s what happens in the fairytales, isn’t it?’

And before she could answer yay or nay he covered her mouth with his.