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

by Clare Connelly

  “Hello,” she said, her word just a breathy sound after hours of not speaking. She looked back at the ocean, and hoped he would not be able to hear her blood pounding through her veins. For her body recognised its master’s return and wanted what she could never ask for again.

  “Abigail,” his own words were thick with feeling. “I came as soon as I discovered that foul piece of writing.”

  She stared down at her lap. Her hands were knotted together; her knuckles white from how tightly she was gripping. He crouched before her and placed his own strong, tanned hands on top of hers.

  “You didn’t need to,” she said simply. “I mean, I know it was embarrassing — for both of us — but it was just a trashy tabloid piece. It will blow over.”

  Her response surprised him. It was mature beyond her years, and certainly beyond her experience with such matters. In part, it also angered him. For her not to care could only mean that she truly didn’t care — for him, or what was said about their marriage.

  “Yes,” he agreed. He lifted a hand and curved it around her cheek, hoping to draw her gaze to his eyes. Still she stared into her lap. “But I should never have exposed you to such cheap speculation.”

  She frowned quickly. “From the moment we married, such speculation was inevitable.”

  “I thought that by going slowly and cautiously, and drip-feeding information about you and Mikey to my people, everything would be easier. That was wrong of me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly.

  Her refusal to meet his eye frustrated him. He dropped his hand to her chin and gently tilted her face. But seeing the accusation and grief in her expression, he grimaced inwardly.

  “Abi,” there was an urgency to his tone. “The article should never have been published. It is illegal to take photographs of the royal family here. I thought you and Michael would be safe. I thought that coming here would give you time to adjust to our marriage.”

  “What marriage?” She interjected hollowly.

  He acknowledged her point with a tight smile. “My security forces have apprehended the photographer. He will be charged for this gross invasion of your privacy.”

  “That’s absurd,” she chastised.

  “He broke the law.”

  Her smile was without humour. “That’s not why you’ve had him arrested.”

  “He shouldn’t have …”

  “No.” She closed her eyes. “He shouldn’t. But let him lose his credibility. Let him lose his job. Arresting someone for something so trivial is a waste of your time.”

  “He needs to be made an example of.”

  “What does it matter? What does any of it matter?”

  “How can you say that?” He demanded. “Do you not care that people might believe the story?”

  She shook her head. “I care that I believe it,” she said, her words quiet but firm with a resilience she’d had to learn. “I care that it’s true.”

  “Abi,” his heart turned over in his chest. “You know the truth. You know why we married.”

  She nodded jerkily. “For Michael.” She could see that he was about to speak and so she shook her head urgently. She couldn’t let him say anything else. She had to express her own feelings and wishes while they were clear in her mind. “Nothing else matters; don't you see that? I’m glad that you have your heir. And I think Michael will love being here. But I’m certainly not cut out to be the royal wife you want.” She let her eyes flutter closed and prayed the tears wouldn’t leak beyond her dark lashes.

  “Abiga --,”

  “No.” She interrupted loudly. “Let me finish, please. I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Since you had us shipped off here …”

  “It was essential,” he muttered. “I couldn’t look at you, knowing what grief I had caused you.”

  “I’m not asking for a divorce,” she promised shakily, pushing his words aside. “But I just want to be left alone as much as possible. Here, or somewhere else. I don’t mind. I would like Michael to stay with me until he’s older and can have a say in his destiny.” The words almost strangled her, they hurt so much to say. “And, for his sake, I would ask that you keep any affairs … discreet. He doesn’t need to know the truth about us until he’s much older and can … can understand …”

  There was a sharp drop from the palace balcony and Kiral had a sense that he’d stepped backwards and was toppling over it. “Stop, Abi,” he begged, his hands cupping her face now as he’d longed to do for days. “Stop, I beg you.”

  “No.” She reached up and detached his hands from her face, and then stood. A breeze billowed past at that moment. It ruffled her hair and pulled at her dress.

  His accented voice was thick with feeling. “I married you because I thought it would be the easiest way to fix everything that was broken between us.”

  “You married me for your lineage,” she corrected matter-of-factly. “I appreciate whatever it is that is motivating you to try to soften the blow of that piece of junk article. But you don’t need to apologise. I never thought there was anything more to ‘us’. We’ve said as much many times.”

  “Yes,” he agreed under his breath. “We have said so. But what have you felt?” He demanded insistently.

  An arc of electricity spiked through her blood. How could he be so cruel? If he knew how she felt — and obviously he did — what did he gain by forcing her to admit it? “You saved our son. I have no words to express …”

  Kiral made a guttural sound of frustration. “He would have had the damned operation in America if I had given you the money you requested. The outcome would have been the same.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. That’s academic. He is here now, and he is safe. And I’m very appreciative.”

  “Don’t. Don’t keep saying that. You do not need to be grateful. He is my son, too. And he has always been my responsibility.”

  Responsibility. The word ricocheted around her brain like a pinball on speed. Kiral undoubtedly felt a sense of responsibility towards her, too. She’d become pregnant at a young age. She’d cared for their sickly child. And his moral fibre surely required him to redress that perceived wrong.

  “Please, Kiral, we don’t need to do this. What good can come from a conversation like this?” She lifted her eyes to his face. “I was upset by the article. Of course I was. Reading those words would have hurt anyone! But I’m already feeling better,” she lied. “I’m sure that by tomorrow, or the day after, I will have forgotten all about it.”

  Kiral spun away from her, his mind buzzing. “How fortunate you are able to care so little,” he intoned flatly. “For my part, I felt a small part of me die when I saw those words written about you. The thought that you might believe them, even for a moment, caused me to panic in a way I hadn’t known possible.”

  “You’re telling me the article wasn’t accurate?” She pushed skeptically. Despite her certainty that this conversation would only end up hurting her, she was drawn to his statement like a moth to a flame.

  “Of course it was not!” He gripped the balustrade and stared out at the ocean. “Not one part of it was correct. These cheap papers make a livelihood by buying grainy photographs and setting a fictitious tale to them.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. What had she been hoping he would say? What did she need to hear? “But the article didn’t say anything I hadn’t already felt. We haven’t touched in weeks.” She squeezed her eyes as mortification flooded her system. “You haven’t touched me in weeks. No, almost a month,” she corrected. “You sent me away without having the courtesy to explain to me why. You regret our marriage. It’s obvious.”

  “Of course I regret our marriage!” He turned back to her, and when he saw the hurt in her face he winced. “I regret everything about my conduct with regards to you. From the moment we met I have taken what I wanted; I have ceased to think as an intelligent man. When I am with you I forget who I am and what I have been taught to feel. I become an animal, operating on instinct alone
. I am not proud of who I am when I am with you. Our relationship is littered with the proof of my cruelty.”

  She angled her face away so that he wouldn’t see her expression. “You were blindsided by the knowledge that you had a son,” she reminded him generously.

  “Yes. But there were so many ways I could have …”

  “Stop.” She closed her eyes, weary now from the strength of her feelings. “You’re not to blame for this, Ki. Not solely, anyway. I kept Michael from you. I didn’t know anything about The First Sheikh business, but I knew nonetheless what it would do to you. I knew it was wrong.” She sobbed, and held a hand to her mouth. “I was so scared. I wish … I wish I’d been brave enough to tell you as soon as I knew …”

  “Brave? What you did for our son shows the strength of your courage. My God, Abi, you have been through so much.”

  Her eyes swept closed.

  “I had no right to pursue you, Abi. But I saw you and I lost my head. I had no damned right! I had come from the embassy, having signed the betrothal papers. I had agreed to marry Melania and then, by some cruel twist of fate, I met you.”

  “A last hurrah,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “No!” His voice was cracked. “It was an awakening. You stirred something in my soul I hadn’t known existed. You taught me to love with a single look. Your smile set fire to my heart. There was no turning back once I saw you. I loved you instantly and I never forgot that love.”

  “It wasn’t love,” she denounced angrily. “Stop saying that. We both know that love would never have led to this! Love would have made you break your engagement! Love would have led to your honesty with me before it was too late. Instead, you treated me like a fool. And I was a fool. A stupid, naive nineteen year old who fell into bed with the first hot guy who paid her any attention.”

  In another situation, he might have laughed at her description. “It is not possible that a man had not shown you interest before me.”

  “Fine. The first guy I was interested in, too. When I think back to that time … the lies you told me…”

  “I never lied,” he insisted.

  She rolled her eyes. “You lied by omission and vagueness. I am in government. My God. Government? You are the government! You know I had no idea who you were.”

  “I wanted to tell you earlier,” he said seriously, taking a step towards her. But Abi moved backwards answeringly, as though his proximity threatened her very existence. “But I was terrified I would lose you. I could think of nothing worse than having you reject me because of something as inconsequential as my claim to this throne.”

  “So you used me until you had your fill and then you rejected me?”

  He recoiled as though she’d slapped his cheek. “I tried to end it in a way that was fair to you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. She was shivering despite the heat of the day. “Well, you failed spectacularly.”

  “We are getting off-topic here. I am not arguing with you about my conduct. I have admitted that I erred in every way with you. I came here today because I want to start making amends.”

  “There are no amends to make,” she retorted hollowly. “If you try to fix things you will break my heart.”

  “Why? Why can I not at least attempt to repair this?”

  “Because it makes a mockery of what we are.” She turned to look at him and blinked into his face. “I have loved you for as long as I’ve known you.” The words hung between them, heavy and sad. “I loved you even when you stood before me and told me that you were engaged. I loved you even as you told me you could never see me again. When you stared at me and told me your destiny and loyalty were to a country and a princess and could never be to me. I loved you when I worried about Michael and knew you to be far away and planning your wedding. I came to you for help — you blackmailed me into your bed and still I loved you. When you overruled my doctors and me and brought Michael here, I hated you and I loved you and yes, even now, I love you, Kiral. You take what you want from me again and again with no respect for what I may feel or want. And still I love you. But I can’t forgive you. I can’t live with you. I can’t pretend to be your wife when I know how little you think of me.”

  Her words were tearing him into tiny pieces. He was shredded from top to toe. “Abigail, I think the world of you —,”

  “Don’t!” She threw her head back and stared at the sky. “Just don’t. It’s so easy to say that, Kiral. It’s so easy to say the words, but your actions show the truth of your heart and your soul. You have shown me how little you care for me all along. Even sending me here without an explanation or a discussion shows the depth of your disrespect.” She swallowed; it hurt her throat. “All I ask is that you leave me here. Please don’t make me face the truth of our relationship yet. I … I’ve been through so much with Michael and I just don’t think I’m strong enough to handle this right now.”

  A knock sounded behind them and Abi dashed away her tears without turning. Kiral had far more practice than she at containing his emotions in front of an ever-present audience. He straightened his facial expression into one of bland boredom with apparent ease. It was softened by genuine pleasure a second later. “R’izar,” he said, and he flattened the impatience from his tone out of deference and affection for this servant.

  “Your highness,” the doctor’s voice was rich with delight. “I did not realise you were here.”

  “I arrived only minutes ago.”

  Abigail still hadn’t turned to face the doctor. But having now composed herself sufficiently, she did so slowly, a smile that felt stiff and unnatural slapped across her face.

  “Good afternoon,” R’izar said with a small bow. If he’d read the article, it didn’t show. His smile was relaxed, his manner comfortable.

  “I have asked Doctor R’izar to be Michael’s primary physician,” Abi said without looking at Kiral.

  “An excellent idea,” Kiral agreed. “Our son will be in good hands.”

  “I am honoured by the praise.” R’izar turned his focus to Abigail. “I would like to speak to you privately for a moment.”

  Abigail wasn’t thinking clearly. Her conversation with Kiral had confounded her completely. “You can speak to me here,” she said with a shrug. “Kiral is Michael’s father. He has a right to know what I know.”

  “This is not about Michael,” R’izar said delicately. “It is about your health instead.”

  At this, Kiral felt his heart lurch. “What is it?”

  “I truly think it is best if I speak to the Emira in private first,” Doctor R’izar was insistent.

  Abigail was nodding but Kiral would not budge. “It pains me to invoke my power, particularly with you R’izar, but I am ordering you to include me in this conversation.”

  “Ki,” Abigail’s eyes shifted awkwardly. “This is what I was just talking about.” You take what you want from me again and again with no respect for what I may feel or want.

  He groaned softly. “Forgive me, Abigail, but since your opinion of me is already set, one more transgression will likely not worsen it. Doctor, what is wrong with my wife?”

  The doctor looked at Abigail in consternation and she shook her head. “It’s fine,” she assured him, anxious at least to appease his crossed loyalties. “Kiral is right. We are married. He’ll learn the truth soon enough.”

  The doctor was not convinced but he could feel Kiral’s stare boring into his face. “It is good news,” he looked from one to the other with a small frown. “I believe.”

  “What is?” Abigail pushed.

  “Your cross little son is to become an older brother,” the doctor’s smile was indulgent. “That will knock some of the fight out of him.”

  Shock speared through Abigail. She reached behind her for something to hold but there was nothing. She might have fallen over had Kiral not clamped an arm around her waist.

  Abigail was pregnant. He was to become a father, again. Shock swirled around the two of th
em as everything they’d just been arguing over became completely irrelevant.

  13

  “Did you know?” The words were clipped from Kiral even before the doctor had closed the door behind him.

  Abigail shook her head and stepped away from him at the same time. She sank back into the chair she’d inhabited all day. “I don’t understand. I don’t know how it’s possible. I’m on birth control.”

  Kiral rubbed his jaw. “It is not foolproof.”

  “No,” she agreed with a frown. “And I was hardly sleeping before I came to you. Perhaps with the timezone shifts I missed a dose.” She dipped her head forward and held it in her hands. “This is impossible.”

  His smile was sardonic. “Apparently not.”

  “Don’t laugh about it,” she warned. “Just don’t.”

  “Abi,” he crouched in front of her. “Do you not see that this is good news?”

  “Good news? Maybe for you and your dynastic needs. An Heir and a Spare. Isn’t that the old adage? This is a nightmare!”

  “Don’t say that,” he urged gently. “You are in shock. There will come a time when you are happy about this and you will wish then that you never felt anger or grief about the existence of this child.”

  She sobbed. He was right. None of this was the baby’s fault. A hand curved protectively over her stomach. A little sibling for Michael was flourishing in her body and she’d had no idea.

  “It changes everything, doesn’t it?” She whispered, without looking at him.

  “Of course it does.”

  “You won’t let me just live peacefully, far away from you?”

  “I would never have indulged that request, Abi.”

  She shook her head from side to side. “You’re happy to keep me here knowing how trapped I feel?”

  He shook his head. Even while grief pummelled him, he felt euphoria too. “We are both trapped, Abi. I am as incapable of leaving as you. The only difference is that I cannot easily leave my country. I would, if I could, for you. For our children. But you claim to love me. You surely would not ask it of me.”