The Sheikh’s Pregnant Foreigner

by Leslie North

  Gina laughed, sounding breathless and a little drowsy. “Is part of the wedding ritual a post-ceremony nap?”

  She bent toward the bed, pulling him along with her, and he let himself fall into the pile of pillows. A few cascaded to the ground. Gina lay back on one, looking exactly as gorgeous and flushed as he’d imagined she’d look as his bride. She closed her eyes and reached out to find the collar of his robes, her fingertips tracing the skin underneath. A nap did sound like an excellent idea. Gina’s movements slowed, and a lazy smile came over her face. It tugged at his heart.

  Skandar bent to kiss the side of her neck where her pulse beat underneath the delicate skin. “You can sleep all the way back to the capital.”

  She froze, eyes flying open. “What?”

  “We need to leave for the capital soon. I have duties there, and beyond that, I need to shore up support. As my wife, you have to be with me.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “You knew this.”

  “I—I just started a new project.” The corners of her mouth turned down, cheeks reddening. “I’m training representatives from the tribes to collect data and send it back, and making notes on their traditional conservation techniques. And I’m researching a species that’s almost extinct. I thought I would have one more night here. If I had one more night, then I could give them a crash course in how to keep my project going. If I had the night and the morning...”

  “Are you finished?”

  Gina worried at her lip with her teeth. “Yes, I’m finished.”

  “You can train the members remotely and come back to the desert from time to time. Remember, this isn’t forever.” It twisted at his stomach to say it, but it was the truth—and he’d do well to remember it. “You’ll have time to finish your projects when we’ve finished ours.”

  She was silent for long enough that the cold in his gut spread up to his chest, but then Gina put on a smile. “You’re right, Skandar. Of course you’re right.”

  5

  Going to the capital had not been on Gina’s agenda for the day. The capital—the palace. Somehow, she just hadn’t thought that far ahead. There had, after all, been a hasty wedding to plan and participate in, and the tiredness still dogged her from earlier in the morning. Being pregnant did that to a person, she guessed.

  “There will be a parade,” Skandar was saying as their enormous black SUV tore through the desert as quickly as it could in the middle of the royal convoy. “And a ceremony.”

  “What kind of ceremony?” They were already married and still in their wedding clothes from the first ceremony.

  “A civil ceremony. Signing the paperwork. You’ll also meet my mother and sister.”

  Her heart beat fast, then faster, and a strange pressure glanced across her cheeks. Meeting the royal family had never been part of her plan. Not once. She was the type of girl who wanted to spend her time working in the desert, not taking tea in the palace. Was tea a thing in this palace? She had no idea.

  Skandar took her hand and squeezed, seeming to sense the thoughts rattling around in her mind. “Will there be tea?” she blurted.

  He raised his eyebrows, a smile making him look devastatingly handsome in a way that focused her attention back on his lips. “If you’d like. You’re English, right? What brought you to the Basran desert? How’d you get interested in desert plants?”

  “Oh, well—” She felt righted, back on solid ground. “My mother was from Scotland, and she brought cuttings of bell heather and bluebells with her when she and my dad moved to Hampshire. She wanted to have a piece of Scotland with her when she married him. All my life, she liked to experiment with those cuttings. What soil was best, and so on.”

  “And you followed right in her footsteps.”

  “I studied maths at Manchester University and took courses in ecology, and then after I graduated I got a job at the Global Conservation Monitoring Centre.” The desert spilled out on either side of them in vast sandy waves dotted with shimmering oases off in the distance. “My job mostly has to do with data compilation and analysis, but it’s still conservation, and that’s what I love to do.” Heat suffused her cheeks. “It’s nothing like what you’ll be doing, though. As king.”

  It had been one thing to know he was a prince out there in the desert, with only the tribal members surrounding them. But now they were headed straight for Skandar’s reality. A rich reality. A job at the Conservation Centre would be nothing to him.

  “You should tell me about your country,” she said quickly. “Tell me about this place.”

  “I would, but we’re almost there.” Skandar pointed ahead to where the city rose from green outlying fields that had obviously been carefully tended to survive in the desert. Buildings rose high into the sky, seeming to tower over the landscape. She’d been out in the desert for two months, and the city now looked impossibly large and glittering.

  The black SUV took them through the afternoon traffic to a gleaming modern building, all white and steel and glass, and Gina craned her neck to look up at it. “This is where you live?”

  “This is where I lived,” corrected Skandar. “But I thought it would be better to stop here than the palace.”

  He helped her out of the SUV, and she stood blinking on the sidewalk. Everything here spoke of opulence and wealth—the spotless glass doors, the avant-garde planters in front of the building, the suited man waiting to usher them into the building. Inside, their shoes echoed on the black marble floor of the lobby, and Skandar guided her to a private elevator in the back. It whisked them up to the penthouse floor and let them off directly into his condo.

  “Wow,” Gina whispered. Floor-to-ceiling windows. White walls as far as the eye could see. Dark, modern furniture in flawless leather. Below them, the business sector of the city bustled, with no idea of how the world—her world—had shifted so completely. Skandar strode to the window, taking a regular mobile phone out of his pocket as he went. He wasted not a single moment placing his first call. From what she could make out, he was organizing...something.

  Gina didn’t belong here.

  Her dress, which had seemed so perfect out in the desert, wasn’t elegant enough for the sleek, modern decor. The desert dust had settled over her skin, and she brushed at her arms. If she stuck out so much here, how was she going to fit in at the palace? A dull panic squeezed at her chest. She’d brought one formal-ish outfit to Basran—the trip was for field work, after all. It just wouldn’t do.

  “Hello, Gina.” A woman’s voice startled her, and it took Gina a minute to place where it had come from—a long hall off to the side of the condo. “My name is Hana.” She looked sleek and professional in a black jumpsuit accented with a red scarf. Hana came toward Gina with a smile and an outstretched hand, a garment bag over her arm. “I’ll be assisting you this afternoon.”

  “Assisting me?”

  “Of course.” She dipped her head. “Sheikh Skandar would never want you to be unaccompanied and without the help you need. Here are your clothes.” Hana held out the garment bag, and Gina froze.

  Her clothes? New clothes. He’d arranged for her to change, because he knew how important this moment would be for him. And for everyone involved. She was about to meet his family.

  “Thank you,” Gina answered, taking the bag a beat too late.

  “The guest suite is this way,” Hana said. “You have plenty of time to shower and change.”

  The guest suite was as immaculate as the rest of the penthouse—white walls, a navy-blue bedspread on the bed. The bathroom was a wonder of tile and polished metal, and Hana opened cabinet doors, showing her towels and a hair dryer. It had been stocked with makeup and brushes and lotions, all of it brand new.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Hana said.

  Gina’s hands shook as she washed and conditioned her hair. Over the weeks with the tribe, she’d gotten used to bathing in the outdoor showers. The hot water here felt like heaven, but even that couldn’t chase away the goose bumps. This
shower wasn’t just any shower. It was the last one she’d take before Skandar introduced her to the royal family and the country as his bride. No big deal. Right? It was only a parade and another wedding ceremony of sorts and meeting his mother and sister, who would eventually find out Gina was pregnant, if they didn’t know already.

  She groaned out loud in the shower. They would know already. The world knew already. It was not what she’d imagined a pregnancy would be like, if she’d ever thought about it for more than a few seconds at a time.

  Gina lingered in the bathroom, making sure her hair was sleek and shiny and her makeup as perfect as she could get it before she emerged.

  Unclothed, because she hadn’t brought her things into the bathroom. Mistake. She hopped out the door and her heart stopped. There was Skandar, holding a tablet, obviously on a video call. Gina swallowed a shriek and leaped back into the bathroom for a robe. Her hands shook as she tied the knot, then went out again.

  “Oh, good,” said Skandar. “Here she is, Mother.” Gina wasn’t three steps outside the bathroom when he put a tablet into her hands.

  “Hello,” beamed a woman with black hair like Skandar’s. Oh, god. A video call with her new mother-in-law. Gina put on a smile and tried to project warmth and relaxation. Don’t freak out. “Gina, it’s so lovely to see you face to face, even if it’s over the video. I can’t say how excited we are to have you at the palace. We’ll look after you, darling, don’t worry. Everything will be taken care of. And you must call me Karima. I won’t hear anything to the contrary.”

  “I—”

  “We’ll have a nursery refreshed for you, working with the palace designers,” Karima went on, her eyes lighting up. This didn’t entirely hide the dark circles under Karima’s eyes. Grief was written in the lines of her face. “But we don’t have to discuss that now. There’s the parade to get through, and the ceremony. The people are clamoring to see you. A bride blessed by the rites—you’re the first one in many years.” Karima gave her a wide smile, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

  “Really? I haven’t heard that story, but—”

  “Oh, we’ll share so many stories. And I’ll introduce you to everyone you need to know.” Karima couldn’t contain herself, and Gina swallowed back a cold unease. Why hadn’t she anticipated this? She’d wanted to learn the language and get to know his family a little better before diving into palace life, but now that was off the table. Goose bumps pulled at her skin at the prospect of being on display every second and having her pregnancy discussed by strangers before she’d even really come to terms with all the complexities of the situation.

  But Skandar stood close, his hand on her shoulder, and Gina knew from the way he touched her that there was nothing else she could do.

  She would move to the palace. She would support him and his family and help and honor the tribal people she’d come to know and love.

  And Karima, too. Skandar’s bereaved mother would have something to take her mind off her grief.

  “Mother, the parade is due to begin,” Skandar said gently.

  “I know, I know. I’ve said too much. But I’m just so thrilled for you, Skandar.”

  “I can’t wait to meet you in person.” Gina gave her a smile, discovering as she said the words that she meant them. “I look forward to spending time with you at the palace.” Karima blew her a kiss and ended the call, the screen going dark, and Gina tipped the tablet back into Skandar’s hands. “I’ll be just a minute,” she told him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as she stepped back into the bathroom.

  “My makeup has to be better than this, and I’m still wearing a bathrobe.” She grinned at him in the mirror, trying to cover the last tendrils of nervousness. “I can’t let your mother down.”

  6

  The entire city had heard the news. That was clear from the way people lined the streets on the way to city hall. Gina waved shyly from the seat next to him in a black convertible, curiously silent.

  Skandar wondered why.

  She’d been quiet when she came out of the bathroom with her makeup bolder. Could she be getting cold feet? Unlikely. He was obviously doing the right thing, by the way the people of the capital were reacting. And she’d be getting a lot out of their arrangement. More than she ever could have imagined when she tumbled down the side of that dune in the desert.

  The car pulled up in front of the city hall, where the royal guard had cleared an area for them to come through with velvet ropes and a line of security. Gina took his hand and kept a smile on her face—good instincts.

  “There are more people here than I thought,” she said into his ear.

  “Word got around.” He bent to kiss her, aware every moment of the cameras flashing around them, and spotted his secretary Zaki waiting by the doors. He and Gina made their way to the entrance and went inside, Zaki close by. “Before I forget,” he told Zaki. “First thing tomorrow, we need to set up a college fund for the child, ensure a grant for Gina’s project, and look into hiring a field assistant. Her family back home might need help, too—and I need a list of our residences that aren’t in use.”

  “Congratulations, Sheikh Skandar,” Zaki snuck in, tapping furiously at his tablet. “The entire city celebrates with you.”

  “And they should,” he said.

  Zaki’s wife came through a set of doors off to the side of city hall, draped in a traditional robe in a navy color. Before he could stop her, Gina was waving.

  “You must be Shahd,” she said, going to her.

  Hamila laughed, and Skandar flicked his eyes toward the ceiling. As if the princess and queen mother would have arrived yet and be dressed in such plain robes. He’d had a bright red wedding robe trimmed with gold sent for Gina, and he himself was wearing a coordinating set of robes. Never mind that it was city hall—there were certain standards that had to be upheld, even here.

  “I’m not,” Hamila said kindly. “I’m Hamila, Zaki’s wife. My husband is the assistant to—to your husband, I suppose.”

  Gina blushed a deep red and apologized to Hamila, who put a hand on her arm and changed the subject to the beauty of Gina’s dress. The two women stepped away, talking in low voices with smiles on their faces, and a knot Skandar hadn’t known was there dissolved from his shoulders. There were bound to be some clashes between the woman Gina was in the desert and the one she was expected to be as his wife, but this first one had skated by without damaging anything. And now look at them. They stood close together, brushing elbows and laughing quietly. Maybe Hamila could be her assistant. That might work.

  Skandar’s council was arriving, and he and Zaki waded into the portion of the ceremony that involved greeting everyone as if they were the most important guest. To his surprise, Gina appeared at his side again and again. He overheard her checking with Zaki about whether there was a way for the people who had gathered outside to see the ceremony. There was—a set of screens in front of city hall, rolled in a few minutes after they’d arrived. She was worried about older people having seats and shade and water. After the third time, Zaki shot him a confused look. Usually the servants would be heading up this kind of effort, but there was Gina, going out and coming back in again, making sure it was all set. A glow of pride warmed Skandar’s heart, even as it battled with a streak of unease. It wouldn’t be good for her to get too comfortable, too beloved—they’d agreed on a few weeks together, no more.

  They moved farther into the city hall when everything had been settled, and Skandar found his mother and sister waiting for him. The two women were dressed in robes meant to coordinate with Gina’s—blue, trimmed with the same gold as hers. The women descended on her, drawing her into their arms.

  “It’s so good to see your face in person,” Gina said to Karima. “The screen didn’t do you justice.”

  “Ah, Habibi, you are too precious.” Karima squeezed Gina tight. “You’ll be mine at the palace.”

  Gina laughed. “Shall I call you Mama Karim
a?”

  Karima stepped back, putting a hand to her mouth, happy tears glowing in her eyes. Then she reached for the tiara on her own head and took it carefully out of her hair. “You must wear this,” she told Gina, settling it on her head.

  “And just like that, you’ve replaced me,” said Shahd good-naturedly, angling in for a hug before things got started.

  Gina looked shocked. “Shouldn’t this go to your daughter? Hello, Shahd, it’s so lovely to meet you.”

  “That old thing?” Shahd waved Gina off. “No! This way I can shop for more.”

  Skandar expected an awkward shrug, or for Gina to say that she never shopped, that in fact all of her clothes were sent in by the Centre. Instead she gave a happy gasp. “Would you mind showing me around some of the stores?”

  Shahd twined an arm through Gina’s. “Would I mind? Would you mind if we were best friends?”

  His stomach sank, and he missed what Zaki had been saying to him. He turned back to the conversation—something about the council members and where they would sit for the ceremony—and looked back to see his mother and Shahd ushering Gina off somewhere else. They re-emerged a couple of minutes later, her makeup tweaked again to something that reminded him of the woman he’d seen in the moonlight that first night.

  “Lovely,” he said.

  “What was that, Sheikh Skandar?”

  “My bride looks lovely,” he said. He cleared his throat. Zaki wasn’t the person to share this feeling with. Nobody was the person to share this feeling with. In a month, they’d be staring down the end of this marriage. Skandar couldn’t have his throat tighten up and his chest ache from looking at her then. “Are we ready?”

  “Yes.” Zaki turned back from a hurried discussion with one of the council elders. “The balcony is the best place to have the ceremony, it’s agreed. The screens will pick up more of the moment and we’ll be better positioned for press photos.”

  The balcony was on the second floor of city hall, wide, long, and overlooking the square; getting there involved crossing to the front of the building and climbing an outdoor staircase.