The Sheik's Virgin Lover (The Sisterhood) (14 page)

Emma shrugged slightly, a shiver running down her back when his fingers touched her on a sensitive spot. “I never really had a chance.”

He wouldn’t accept that excuse. “There were many opportunities when you could have mentioned something like that. And you haven’t answered my question.”

She pushed herself up and looked down at him. “First of all, there wasn’t any question. And secondly, are you angry with me about this?”

His fingers delved into her hair as he shook his head. “I’m not angry. I’m honored. But you should have told me.”

“Why?”

“Because I would have done things differently.”

She grinned and put her chin on his chest. “I don’t think the way we did things was too bad actually.” Then, experimentally, she blew on his nipple, amazed that he had the same reaction to that sensitive area that she had. Curious, she pulled herself up higher and experimented again, this time touching her tongue to his nipple.

His reaction this time was much more dramatic. Instead of simply taking the teasing, Emma found herself flat on her back, his knee between her knees and her hands pinned above her head. “Want to play?” he asked and she felt his body’s reaction on her leg.

She smiled up at him and wiggled. “I think I do,” she replied. “What would you have done differently if you’d known about my virginity?” she asked.

“It would have been slower.”

“What if I don’t like it slow?” she teased.

He grinned back at her and shook his head. “I think you’ll take it any way I want to give it to you,” he countered, and proceeded to do just that, much to Emma’s delight. Later, much later, she got to have her own way with him, but only for a short period of time before he took over again. She loved the way he mastered her body and made her hum with anticipation. But at some point, she was going to have to figure out how to get equal time with her own symphony, she promised herself moments before she fell asleep, too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

Chapter 9

The tears were flowing unchecked now. Staring at her body in the mirror, she placed her hands on her slightly rounded stomach under the overly large sweater.

“This is wrong, Emma and you know it.” Claire touched Emma’s shoulder to emphasis her point. “I know you aren’t speaking with him since he’s been such a crazy bear lately, but you’ve been awfully sad lately as well. I think both of you need each other more than either of you realize.”

Emma sighed and closed her eyes, turning away from the mirror. “I know.”

The elevator opened and the crowded hotel lobby was bustling with people busy going to various places. Emma and Claire walked slowly, making their way to the restaurant where they could see Darcy was already seated.

As soon as Darcy saw the two of them, she jumped up and hugged both of them. Darcy smiled and touched Emma’s stomach. “You’re absolutely glowing, Em. I know you’re in a pickle, but I’m really happy for you. And I know that, deep down, you’re excited about this pregnancy.”

“If you say so,” she said, sighing as she slid into the worn leather booth. Because Emma was so sad, and they both had an agenda which had been worked out prior to this meeting, Claire and Darcy took the opposite side, both of them opening up their menus.

Darcy noticed that Emma wasn’t looking at the menu herself and frowned. “You’re going to eat, right?”

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll just have a salad or some fruit. I’m really not very hungry.” She shifted on her seat, trying hard to get comfortable. “What are you guys going to eat?”

The waitress arrived and Claire slapped her menu closed. “Three cheeseburgers, three strawberry shakes and extra fries as soon as you can get them here,” she said, adding a smile and a nod towards Emma’s blatantly sad features.

Emma almost burst into tears but managed to hold back until the waitress arrived. “I really don’t think I can eat all that,” she said.

Claire and Darcy exchanged a glance with each other then Claire sat up a bit straighter in her chair. “When are you going to call him?” she asked.

Emma fiddled with the paper napkin holding her utensils in. She struggled to keep from crying, tired of being a leaking faucet. “He’ll marry me, you know.”

“We know. And we also know that you’re in love with him.”

“Yes. Very much so.”

Darcy hesitated, waiting for Emma to finish. But when no other explanation was forthcoming, she leaned forward, prompting, “And what’s the problem?”

Emma’s hand stilled. “He proposed to me about six weeks into our relationship. We weren’t even sleeping together but he said we should marry.”

Claire grimaced instantly, her woman’s intuition telling her what Emma had yet to share. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a proposal on one knee with roses and romance?”

Emma laughed but it came out more like a groan. “Not really. If I remember it correctly, he said I would be a good wife for his position. Because of my background and the work I’ve done with the inner city kids, he basically said I’d be easy to promote as his wife.”

Darcy chuckled. “Okay, so that’s not the most romantic way to ask a woman to marry her.”

Claire shook her head. “If I’m hearing correctly, he didn’t really ask, did he?”

The fries arrived and they all took a moment to unwrap their napkins and pour out a large dollop of ketchup.

“So what did you say when he proposed like that?”

Emma plopped her uneaten French fry onto her plate and looked out the window. “I told him I didn’t want to be window dressing or something like that. Or maybe I simply walked out of the hotel room. I can’t remember my exact words or reaction. I was a bit upset about it is all I remember.”

“And he didn’t bring it up again?” Claire asked. “I’m guessing once burned, twice shy?”

Emma laughed. “Dharran would never be shy.” She shuddered at the memory, but knew it would be better to get it out. “No, he asked me again. After the first time we’d made love, when he realized that I was no longer a virgin, he said I had to marry him now that we’d had sex.”

Darcy and Claire looked at each other. “He’s really missed it, hasn’t he?”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe he wasn’t trying to aim too close to the bull’s eye.”

“Nonsense,” Darcy said, biting into the hot, crispy fry and shaking her head. “It sounds to me like he was aiming, just missing miserably. Did you tell him why you rejected his previous proposals?”

“Not in so many words. The first time he brought up marriage, I was too hurt to reply so I just changed the subject as quickly as I could. The second time, I couldn’t even respond. I distracted him so he wouldn’t give me another horrible proposal or command.” Emma blushed as she told them that, feeling embarrassment at revealing something so intimate.

Claire and Darcy, bless their souls, didn’t even blink but continued on. “You have to tell him, even though he really stinks at proposing,” Darcy decreed.

Claire agreed but put the screws in even more tightly. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?”

Emma smiled, “I’d be running away as fast as I could if I discovered Dharran was pregnant,” she said with the first sign of humor in a long time.

Darcy laughed but shook her head. “You know what I mean. It isn’t fair to keep that knowledge from him.”

Emma sighed. “I know. It’s complicated though.”

“So uncomplicated it. You call him up, tell him you need to speak with him. When he arrives on your doorstep, you give him the wonderful news, he whisks you off to his fabulous palace, both of you get married and live happily ever after. But the best part is that he moves his palace here so we won’t have to miss our get togethers!”

Emma wished it were that simple. “Except that those three little words are dependent on so many other things.” She put her head in her hands and slouched over her cheeseburger. “Why did I have to fall in love with a powerful man? Why couldn’t he have been the guy next door? Someone I could just bash on the head and tell him he can’t marry me for stupid reasons but only because he fell in love with me.”

“Why can’t you say that to Dharran?”

Emma grimaced. “First of all, he’s too tall and I’d have trouble reaching him. Secondly, he’s fast enough that he’d duck and what’s the satisfaction there?” she asked comically. “Thirdly, he’s like the leader of OPEC or at least sitting on the board or whatever with all his trillions of gallons of oil.”

“You lost us there. What does that have to do with anything?”

She sank lower on her side of the booth. “Because he needs an heir and this could be that person. You know how men are about weird things like that. Add in that he’s a monarch and I’ve got a real issue on my hands.”

Darcy put down her burger and shook her head. “As far as I can see, the only issue you have is not telling the man that you love that you’re pregnant with a child that was created out of that love.” She shook her head. “Emma, this is exciting and wonderful news! A baby is a gift from God and here you are sitting in front of that delicious burger like it’s the end of the world as we know it.”

She laughed. “I know,” Emma replied, placing a hand over her slightly swollen stomach. “It is pretty amazing.” She smiled fondly.

“That’s the spirit,” Claire said. “Now take out your phone and tell him you need to talk to him.”

Emma sat up a bit and took a fry, dipping it in the ketchup, then shaking her head and pushing the plate away. “I’ll call him after lunch.”

“Call him now,” both women said simultaneously, then laughed at how their mind thought alike.

Emma was startled by the vehemence in their voice. “All right!” she said, throwing up her hands. She dug her phone out of her purse and pressed the speed dial. It rang only three times before someone answered the phone. “Hello, this is Emma. Is Dharran available for a moment?”

She waited for almost five minutes before the person returned, only to be told that he was in meetings but asked if she would leave a message.

Emma thought about it, but in the end, she asked if he would just return her call.

With that over, Emma changed the subject while nibbling at her fries, unable to eat the burger because of her suddenly finicky stomach.

The three of them ate a leisurely lunch while chatting about various subjects, politics definitely being one of them because of their proximity to the capitol. Darcy groaned about the evening she’d spent partying at the night clubs the previous two nights. Emma and Claire both sympathized with her until they both asked, “How much did you make?”

Darcy smiled excitedly as she relayed the amount, which would keep her animal rescue shelter supplied in food for the next several months, which meant she didn’t have to hit the nightclubs for a while. Being beautiful and famous as a party girl had some benefits, they all knew, one of them being paid by nightclubs to get the club’s name mentioned in the tabloids for free publicity. The down side was that Darcy had a genuine feud going with her father about what Darcy should be doing with her life, namely, marrying and being the perfect mafia wife. Darcy had other plans, which had nothing to do with catering to “daddy’s” wishes.

Darcy was happy enough when she was with her animal friends but Claire and Emma had discussed concern over her lifestyle. It seemed a bit extreme, even if both of them knew that it was extreme in the opposite way most people thought.

Claire told them about a new computer program she was working on that would let her read the newspaper before it came out on the internet. Both Emma and Darcy knew that Claire’s talents were wasted in her present position with a computer programming firm.

“How’s that new guy you mentioned last week? Burt or something?” Emma asked.

Claire’s excitement increased tenfold. “He’s absolutely wonderful! No roving hands, very considerate, always polite! He walked me to my door last night and kissed m on the hand instead of mauling me on my doorstep and assuming he’d be getting into my bed. What a find!” she gushed.

The three of them hugged each other goodbye and Emma hopped onto the bus to get back to the center. She hadn’t seen her old car in weeks and her new one had been stolen a day after Dharran had exchanged it, as Emma knew it would be. Dharran had tried to get her to choose another one but she absolutely refused, stating that public transportation was good for the environment anyway.

She kept her cell phone close by for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for Dharran to return her call. She knew it was odd to call him but when she unlocked her door that night to her apartment and he still hadn’t called, she tossed her cell phone into a drawer, determine to not hover over it any longer. She’d call him in the morning and, if he didn’t respond this time, she wasn’t trying again. It would be his fault if his messengers were too inefficient to convey her requests, not hers.

The apartment seemed abnormally quiet that night, but it could just be her own exhaustion, she thought as she took a quick shower to cool down and change into a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a tee shirt, not yet needing maternity clothes but her jeans were becoming a bit uncomfortable in the waistline already. As she curled up on her well worn sofa, she flipped through the recipe book she’d gotten at the library the previous weekend, intending to cook something healthy to eat for the baby’s sake. But five minutes into the flipping, she couldn’t hold her head up any longer. With a great deal of sadness that she hadn’t heard from Dharran, and the baby starting to make her or his presence known by sapping all of her energy, Emma laid her head down on a fluffy, decorative pillow, wanting just a few moments of sleep before she got up and ate something.