Bound to the Sheikh & The Sheikh's Secret Baby (Clare Connelly Pairs Book 2)

by Clare Connelly

  “You cannot be pregnant.”

  Laurie’s gasp was silent; her face showed anguish to the empty garden.

  “I did the test three times. I am with child.”

  Laurie stood slowly, wary of making any noise that might alert them to her presence.

  “This is going to destroy Laurie,” his words were soft. Even in that moment, Laurie took heart from the fact that he thought of her. True, not enough to stop sleeping with his mistress. And not enough not to get his mistress pregnant. But on some level, he did care.

  “Our baby has nothing to do with her.”

  Laurie could hardly see straight. Her heart was lurching from one pain to another. She felt burned through to the core of her being.

  Despite the heat and the fact she felt like she could almost have collapsed, she retraced her steps even faster than when she’d first laid them on the pathways. The palace was so far away, but she ran towards it with determination.

  Grief and shock were her constant companions.

  May was pregnant.

  Our baby has nothing to do with her.

  God! She dipped her head and ran faster as the unpalatable truth began to form a cold layer around her heart. This whole month she’d been falling deeper and deeper in love with her husband and he’d been seeing his mistress.

  Although … hope flared in the most desperate of circumstances. Perhaps the baby had been conceived months ago. Perhaps it was before he’d even married Laurie?

  That didn’t matter, she thought with a grimace. Afida would not want to stay married to Laurie now. Not with the woman he really loved carrying his child. Not when David was so much healthier and in better financial standing.

  Afida would want Laurie gone. He would have to tell her of course, and that moment would be excruciating. She could just envisage the way his eyes would crinkle with pity for her.

  Laurie couldn’t go through that! How could she be dismissed by the man she loved so desperately? And yet, no good could come from remaining with him.

  Her body ached with the certainty that she had to run from him. That she would never again know the sweetness and perfection of being made love to by him.

  It was for the best. Eventually this would just be a distant memory. Life would resume as normal.

  She ran the rest of the way to the palace without stopping. Her legs would be like lead the next day. She didn’t think about that. She dismissed her attendants and showered quickly, then dressed in a turquoise gown and settled a sheer scarf elegantly over her hair.

  At her door, she spoke in almost flawless Aktarian to one of her security agents. Her instructions were clear, and reluctantly or not, it was their duty to carry them out.

  11

  “What do you mean, gone?” Afida stared at one of his assistants with barely concealed impatience. After the day he had, he needed to see Laurie more than he’d realised.

  “Her royal highness gave instructions for her jet to be readied earlier today.”

  “Her jet?”

  Afida’s mind was usually sharp. Now? He couldn’t quite connect what he was hearing with reality. “Her jet?”

  The servant was obviously not enjoying the conversation. “Her royal highness assured us you were aware of her movements and we were not able to contact you at the time to confirm this.”

  Afida had kept his phone off all day. Sorting out the mess with May was something he was not relishing. He was trying to see a way around it, but ultimately, he couldn’t hide the truth from Laurie. No matter how devastated she’d be, he had to tell her himself. Before palace gossip reached her.

  “I must have misunderstood,” he murmured, instinctively defusing the suggestion that his wife had moved without his involvement. “Where did she go?”

  The servant’s expression was rich with confusion. “To his honourable Mr Katabi.”

  To Elon. Afida felt his temper rising. She’d fled to his friend? Why?

  “Have my jet prepared.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Immediately.” He tore through the apartment and up to his rooftop helipad. The black bird was waiting, as it had been that perfect afternoon he’d whisked her off to the dunes.

  He climbed in angrily and flicked the dozen switches required to bring flight to it. It lifted seamlessly from the palace, and he pointed it towards his airstrip in the capital. As he flew, he tried to calm down.

  Laurie was his wife. She was as addicted to him as he was to her. For whatever reason she’d gone to Elon, it was not necessarily a bad thing. They’d built a friendship in the lead up to the wedding. Though it had initially irked him, now it ceased to offend him. Of course his wife should have friends.

  While Elon might … admire Laurie, Afida was confident his friend would never act on those feelings. He was too loyal. Too full of honour and righteousness.

  He pushed the helicopter to the limits of its ability, and touched down outside his private airstrip. His plane was ready, the red carpet rolled from the steps and three guards standing to attention on either side of the steps. He strode with urgency towards the plane, barely pausing to greet his captain. He gave the flight instructions gruffly then settled broodingly into one of the seats.

  It took off almost instantly. One of the perks of being in control of the whole country was the air traffic control’s desire to yield all other flights to his. He soared high into the sky, above Aktaria, nudging closer and closer to the neighbouring country Elon called home.

  Were his mood not so dark, he might have taken a moment to enjoy the twinkling of city lights beneath him, pulsing with the hint of the early evening. He might have enjoyed the way the sun was setting, streaking the sky in magnificent colours and sending shards of gold towards the jet.

  Instead, he stared at the window and saw only Laurie.

  He had hesitated to leave her that morning, almost as though he had a presentiment of what might go wrong. She’d been so beautiful asleep, her hair a shimmering, dark skein against the crisp white pillow. He made an exasperated sigh. She was so real, in his mind’s eye, that he almost felt he could reach out and touch her – to feel her softness in his hands; her reassuring warmth.

  He groaned and focussed his mind.

  The problem they faced was hardly simple. This baby would be a constant reminder to his wife of what he’d shared with May. May would forever more be in their lives, despite what he, or Laurie, might have wanted. He needed Laurie to understand. To see that they could weather this, too.

  They’d made it so far in a month. The thought of losing her because of an unplanned pregnancy filled him with ice-cold fear in his veins.

  It was not a long flight, beyond the border of his lands and into the neighbouring country of Salim, but that evening, it felt to Afida to take an eternity. When the plane touched down, he was standing, impatient to get to his wife, his Queen.

  He didn’t question the convenient efficiency which had a jet black Bentley waiting at the foot of the stairwell.

  He nodded curtly at one of his servants, no doubt despatched post haste from the embassy, and then took the wheel.

  “Sir …” The servant as understandably perplexed. The crown prince of Aktaria rarely drove himself.

  “That will be all.”

  Afida felt good to be free of constraint. He pushed the luxury vehicle, taking the roads at speed, with total confidence. The lights of his security detail in his rearvision mirror showed him that he was not alone, and yet he felt it.

  Finally, Elon’s expansive palace came into sight, and he swore under his breath, pausing briefly at the security gates. She was in there somewhere. His beautiful, confusing, sweet, noble wife.

  But why?

  “Are you ready to tell me yet, Laurie, what has brought you here in such a state?”

  Elon nodded at the servant who had brought a platter of tea and Turkish delights, dismissing him and ensuring privacy with his best friend’s wife. His best friend’s wife. He thought of her in that way intenti
onally. So long as he kept her relationship to his oldest friend at the forefront of his mind, he wouldn’t notice the way her cheeks were dimpled so adorably; nor the way her neck had a swan-like elegance to it, as she reached forward and poured tea.

  Laurie shook her head, her smile tight. “I just needed to get away from the palace, that’s all. You don’t mind that I came here, do you?”

  “Mind?” Her fingers were beautiful, stretched around the fine bone handle of her tea cup now, her nails short and clean. “Afida is my oldest friend; he is like a brother to me. Which makes you a sister of sorts.” Yes, that was better. Begin thinking of her as family. Perhaps that would send these fantasies from his mind. “My house is, always, your house.” He put a hand on her elbow, to underscore the sincerity of his offer. But he didn’t remove it.

  He told himself he was simply comforting a woman in obvious distress. That there was nothing more to the simple gesture.

  Even beneath the cotton of her gown, her skin felt warm.

  Laurie exhaled an uneven breath. She’d been close to tears all day, and yet she refused to cry. She kept telling herself to be fatalistic. No, pragmatic.

  This was not a love match, despite her stupidity in falling in love with her husband. Yes, they’d developed a very healthy sexual relationship, but that was just convenience.

  He’d obviously been with May too. Her stomach clenched at the thought. The betrayal! And yet was it really a betrayal? She had heard with her own ears his words to Elon. His honest confession that he didn’t intend to end things with his mistress.

  She sipped her tea, uncaring when it scalded her tongue a little. It was sweet, like vanilla and lime.

  “What is it?” He murmured softly. “You are troubled by something, Laurie. Let me help you.”

  “I …” She squeezed her eyes shut, and saw May. Beautiful, tall, leggy, blonde May. As she’d been the night of their wedding, and as she’d been in the quince grove with David. Laughing, and stunning, as though the wildness of the desert was captured in her soul.

  A short, sharp knock sounded at the door and a servant appeared. “His royal highness of Aktaria, Sheikh Afida Masou-Al.” Neither Laurie nor Elon moved, they were so surprised, so when Afida strode into the parlour, he had a brief moment to observe their cosy closeness. Elon with his hand curled intimately around his wife’s shoulder, Laurie’s head tilted towards his as she cradled a teacup in her hands. Then, he saw the hasty rearrangement that spoke of a guilty conscience. Elon stood sharply, his body putting distance between both himself and Laurie, and acting as a shield between Afida and his wife.

  Afida’s face was carefully wiped of emotion, but his amber eyes glistened with a force of rage. He stared at Elon and a silent challenge flared between them. Best friends once, they were now just competitors.

  If someone had predicted this fate six weeks earlier, Afida would have laughed in their face. He did not believe that any woman could prove a strong enough lure to threaten his friendship with Elon. And now? He would go to war to keep his friend from touching his wife.

  His wife.

  She was sitting on the sofa, her eyes not quite meeting his.

  Guilty conscience there, too?

  Had more than a touch happened?

  Hell, had Elon kissed her? Had he done more than that? He couldn’t think about it. Rage was filtering through his body. He walked swiftly passed Elon and stood directly in front of his wife. “Put down your tea. We are leaving.”

  Her eyes flashed with something he didn’t understand. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but instantly she cowered. Her shoulders slumped. It was over. She could never trust him. She could certainly never sleep with him again. And yet they had to do this first. Unpalatable as it might seem, they had to go through the motions and end their marriage. There was more to consider than her stupid feelings.

  “Laurie.” It was Elon, solicitous and caring. “You do not have to leave.”

  Afida felt as though his friend had punched him. He was betrayed, finally, in the most obvious of ways; by being undercut by his friend in front of his wife.

  Laurie nodded, her eyes bleak. Elon was right. She didn’t have to leave. She could have stayed at his incredibly beautiful home, and then run even further afield. But to what end? Still, she would have been married to a man who didn’t really want her – beyond his bed. And he would replace her with May as soon as she left.

  None of that mattered.

  She had to leave him with her pride intact.

  She had to let him see that she could be mature and rational about it. He could never know the pain his indiscretion had inflicted on her mortal being.

  “Laurie.” Afida’s voice rang with cold determination.

  She placed her teacup carefully on the table and stood. “I shouldn’t have come here, Elon. I didn’t mean to drag you into the middle of this.”

  “You didn’t,” he assured her. “I am pleased you thought of me when you needed help.”

  Laurie’s smile was distracted; she didn’t see the darkening of Afida’s expression. “I hope I can return the favour some day.”

  Afida ground his teeth together. “Come, Laurie.” He put a hand out, but she stared at it as though it were crawling with bugs. She couldn’t touch him. She couldn’t! Those hands had brought such insane pleasure to her body; how could she ever touch him again, knowing the depth of pleasure he’d been giving May at the same time? The baby he’d implanted in her?

  She looked beyond his shoulder. “I’m ready to go back to your palace.” Not home, Afida noticed with displeasure.

  He drove in silence, his wife stony and still beside him. With each moment that passed wordlessly between them, his anger increased. Why had she come to Elon? What had happened between them? What was going through her mind? What was she not telling him?

  His plane was a welcome sight, bold and gleaming in the night. He put a hand out but again, she ignored it, gripping her own in front of her stomach.

  It will be over soon, Laurie told herself, as she walked beside him to his aeroplane. The carpet that ran down the stairs was the same as hers; deep red with a gold royal crest in the centre. She preceded him up the steps, into the almost sickening luxury of his jet.

  Crystal chandeliers hung down the centre of the cabin, and a wood grain table big enough to seat up to to twelve guests at a time. Glistening black leather armchairs were to one side of the plane. Laurie moved towards them but Afida stopped her, his fingers curling around her elbow. “No.” His word held a silent warning at the challenge he perceived she was about to make.

  Laurie was weary. She stared up at his face, unable to fight him. She pressed her lips together, and then sighed softly. “Where then?”

  Her resignation was worst of all! Where had his wife gone? The woman who burned in his arms? He didn’t recognise this silent, deferent creature. He kept a grip on her arm as he walked through the plane, to one of the elegant bedrooms at the back. It was more luxuriously appointed than a room in a five star hotel, with a king size bed in the centre, gold side-tables and a warm glow.

  But Laurie was instantly ill-at-ease. She shook out of his hand, and moved shakily to the other side of the bedroom. She stopped just before the side of the plane curved down, and turned to stare out one of the windows.

  “Why did you leave the palace?”

  Her breathing was ragged. This was it. The moment of truth. Hadn’t she known, from the moment of accepting his proposal, that this wasn’t a marriage for keeps? It was always destined to end. And now it would.

  But how could she leave him? How would she cope?

  How could she stay?

  A lovely little baby would be at the palace in a matter of months.

  Laurie’s heart ached.

  “I have to leave,” she said firmly, her tone only slightly uneven.

  “Leave where?” He was careful. Cautious. He didn’t want to misunderstand her. Nor did he want to increase her frustration.

  “Go
od evening, your royal highnesses. We are now prepared for lift off.” The short disembodied announcement reached them through the cabin’s PA system.

  “Sit,” Afida murmured, pointing to the bed.

  Laurie glared at him as if he’d gone temporarily insane. What choice did he have? Afida crossed the room swiftly and lifted his wife, placing her gently on the end of the bed.

  “It is for your comfort and safety.”

  She ran her hands over her arms, erasing his touch. It didn’t work. Her skin still tingled.

  “Why did you leave?” He murmured, sitting beside her, so close she could feel his breath fanning against her forehead. He smelled so good. Her heart clenched.

  Laurie’s head was swimming. The jet began to accelerate, crossing the runway with power and speed. “I was running this morning,” she said, back in the memory of the moment.

  “Yes, as you do most mornings.”

  She was surprised by this – his knowledge of her movements – but she didn’t wish to be derailed.

  “I ran further than I have before.”

  Afida was watching her. Something deeply disturbing was troubling his wife. “It was very hot this morning.” He had been almost unbearably warm in May’s apartment.

  “Yes.” She swallowed. The plane lifted into the air with a slight judder. They were going to Aktaria. She had left, and yet she was too weak to stay away.

  “What is it, zivzel?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “I hate it.”

  “Why?” He was dismayed by her outburst.

  “Because! It is rude! I know I’m a disturbance in your life. I don’t need you to keep telling me that.”

  He was very still but his mind was turning. “You were speaking of your run.”

  She stared straight ahead, her face pale beneath his gaze. “I ran to the borders of the back garden.”

  A trickle of suspicion surged through him. Fear, like a shard of broken glass from a mirror, punctured his mind. “Go on.”

  “Those houses have always fascinated me. They’re very beautiful. I didn’t set out to go to them. Not consciously.” Her eyes were swarming with grief. “Or maybe I was meant to go there today. To hear what I did.”