The housekeeper looked directly at Michael. “You make sure she eats.”
“I will.”
Neatly folding the dish towel, she put it on the rack and went to the living room to get Ali. “And I’ll take Toby with me,” she called over her shoulder.
When they’d gone, Michael went upstairs to shower. Jensen built a fire in the living room, then went upstairs, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower with Michael where they made love again under the softly running water, this time more slowly.
“Oh, Jensen,” he sighed against her ear as the water ran over their bodies, “will I ever stop wanting you?”
“I hope not.”
When they dried off, Jensen put on a long-tailed shirt and nothing else. Michael put on jeans and left his chest bare.
It was dark in the house except for the flickering of the fire as they sat on a blanket in front of it, sipping their wine. Or, rather, Michael was sipping wine. Jensen was sipping mineral water.
“I like your Wisconsin,” said Michael. “It’s beautiful. So full of color. And the air is crisp. Clean.”
“Especially this time of year,” said Jensen. “Personally I think it’s even prettier when it’s green.”
“It’s a good place to raise children.”
“I think so.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I want to have children with you.”
“Do you mean that?”
“With all my heart.”
“Then congratulations, because you’re going to be a father.”
“What?”
“It happened the first night we were together. I’m six weeks pregnant.”
Michael touched her face in wonder. “How long have you known?”
“I think, in my heart, I knew that night. But I wasn’t sure until a few weeks ago.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I hadn’t decided yet. Probably not.”
“You would have gone through it alone?”
“You had your own things to deal with. I didn’t want to add to your burdens.”
“A child with you is no burden. It’s a joy.”
Jensen thought she saw something on his face in the firelight. She reached up in wonder and touched his cheek. “A tear?”
He caught her hand and brought her palm to his lips, holding it there. “I wish we could raise the baby together.”
“I know. But you’ll see it sometimes.”
“Not as a true parent should.”
“I’ll tell him or her all about you. I’ll show the child pictures so it knows who you are. And when you’re here, we’ll be a family. A real family.”
“We’ll talk every day,” he said. “And I want to be with you for the birth.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I want you to be a part of that.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her.
Three days.
Three days and he would be married to another woman.
Chapter Sixteen
It was the day before his wedding. Michael was sitting in his office, staring into space. All he could think about was Jensen.
His secretary knocked on his door and entered, closing it behind him and looking distressed.
“What is it?” he asked the man.
“Your fiancée’s father is here to see you.”
“Sheik Mommar?”
“Yes. And he has no appointment.”
“It doesn’t matter. Show him in.” Michael prepared himself to take it on the chin. The man must have found out about his trip to be with Jensen.
He rose as the older man was shown in.
Right away; Michael knew he’d misjudged the purpose of the visit. This wasn’t an angry sheik trying to make things right for his daughter. This was a devastated man.
Michael quickly crossed the room and put his hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”
He handed Michael a note. “This will explain everything.”
Michael unfolded it and read the words he’d hardly dared to hope for. Ayalah had eloped to France with the man she loved. There was to be no marriage with Michael.
It was all he could do not to shout for joy as he crumpled the letter in his hand.
The older man misunderstood the younger man’s emotion and nodded his head. “I don’t know what to say. This is the greatest insult. This is not how she was raised. Her mother and I...” His eyes filled with tears. “She is dead to us, of course.”
“No, no, please,” said Michael, leading the man to a chair and pressing him into it. “Don’t do that.”
“We have no choice. She has disgraced us all.”
“Ayalah was to be my wife, and I find no disgrace in what she has done. She loved another man and went to be with him. Please, don’t punish her for that.”
The older man looked up at Michael in confusion. “But the agreement with your father has been broken. Our two families were to be united through this marriage.”
“Yes,” said Michael. “And my father is dead. He, as much as anyone, would understand what your daughter did. He, too, married for love.”
“I have a younger daughter,” suggested the man, rising. “She would be more than willing to step into her sister’s shoes. The same royal blood runs through her veins.”
“No, no, please,” said Michael. “Consider this matter ended here and now, with no harsh feelings between our families. And I hope none toward your daughter and her new husband. I would be very disappointed to find out that you had rejected her.”
The man shook Michael’s hand. “I’m relieved that you’re taking this so well. If ever you need anything, know that you have a friend.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as the man had left, Michael buzzed his secretary.
“Yes, sit?”
“The wedding is off. Cancel all of the plans. And I want my jet readied for a trip to the United States.”
“To leave when?”
“Immediately.”
“But you were just there.”
“And I’m going back. Now do it.”
“Yes, sir. Is there anyone there who should be notified? Any officials?”
“No one.”
When they arrived at Jensen’s house, it was past midnight. Ali waited in the car while Michael rang the bell.
Jensen was lying in bed, but she wasn’t asleep. In Sumaruan time, Michael—her Michael—was marrying another woman.
When the doorbell rang, she sat up with a frown. Who could that be?
Then she smiled. Henry, of course.
She padded barefoot downstairs, Toby by her side, turning on a light as she went, and opened the door.
Her lips parted softly when she saw the man standing there. “Michael? What are you doing here?”
He lifted her off her feet and held her in his arms. “I’m free. Ayalah ran off with her lover.” He set her down. “Get dressed. We’re getting married.”
“Now?”
“This minute. I called ahead and made the arrangements.”
“But I don’t have a proper dress. ...”
He touched her cheek, his heart in his eyes. “We’ll have a formal wedding another time. Right now, I just want to be married to you. Wear jeans, for all I care.”
Jensen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so afraid I’m going to wake up and find this is all just a dream.
Michael picked her up and carried her into the house and up the stairs to her room, setting her down in front of her closet. “Get dressed. Mr. and Mrs. Sherman are waiting. And Henry will be attending by satellite phone.”
While Michael sat on the bed and watched, Jensen pulled out a white dress with long sleeves and a skirt that flared midthigh. She put it on, along with high heels, and turned to Michael. “What do you think?”
“That you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
&nb
sp; Jensen went to the bed and kissed him. “I think I could wear a potato sack and you’d still think I was beautiful.”
“I look at you, not what you’re wearing.”
She sat at her old-fashioned dressing table and put on a little makeup, but when she started to brush her hair, Michael took it from her and began running it through the silken strands in long, slow strokes.
“Should I leave it down?”
“Yes,” he answered simply, putting the brush back on the dresser. “Now, let’s go.”
“Where?”
Ali was on the porch when they came out. He smiled at her and inclined his head.
She smiled back, still confused.
As soon as they went around to the back of the house, Jensen saw that someone had been busy. Lights had been strung along the path she took to the pond, showing them the way.
Jensen wasn’t used to walking over the uneven ground in high heels. She lost her balance and again Michael swept her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the pond where Mr. and Mrs. Sherman both waited with a black-robed judge.
Michael set Jensen down in front of her and handed Jensen a phone.
“Henry?” said Jensen.
“So you’re really going to do it,” came his cheerful voice. “I can’t believe my little sister is getting married.”
“Where are you?”
“Zaire. I’ll be back in a few weeks.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Henry laughed. “Look, get on with it, will you? The connection is bad and getting worse. I want to hear this.”
She handed the phone back to Mr. Sherman, who moved next to the judge and held it out so Henry could hear.
Mrs. Sherman handed her a bouquet of fall flowers from her own garden and kissed her cheek. “A happy ending,” she said. “I guess this is a romance after all.”
And then the judge was speaking.
Jensen heard herself making all the right responses, but her own voice seemed to come from a distance.
Mostly she looked into Michael’s eyes. The love she saw there filled her completely.
She let him slip a ring onto her finger.
Then Ali handed her a ring to put on Michael’s finger.
And it was done.
Henry offered his crackling congratulations just as the connection was lost.
Michael held her in his arms. “Now we’re complete,” he said.
Tears streamed down Jensen’s cheeks.
He smiled as he gently wiped them away. “You cry more than any woman I’ve ever met.”
“I hope you find it one of my more endearing qualities, because you’re going to be seeing a lot of them over the years.”
“I find all of your qualities endearing. Even your temper.”
She reached up and touched his face, still in wonder at what had happened. “I can’t believe we can really be together. Your people...”
“Will learn to love you.”
“You say that with such certainty.”
“When they know you, as they will come to over the years, they will love you. No one who meets you can resist. Ali is proof of that.”
“Can I still write my novels?”
“Of course.”
“And can I keep my home here so we can visit sometimes?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want our children to know both sides of their heritage and treasure them equally.”
“Oh, Michael,” she said with a sigh, “I love you.”
Epilogue
Jensen gave a final push and out came the most perfect baby boy she’d ever seen—or heard. His lusty cries filled the room.
Michael looked at his son, and then at his wife, and for the second time since knowing him, Jensen saw his eyes fill with tears.
He pulled Jensen into his arms. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, yes.” She was almost laughing with relief. It was over.
“I can’t believe what you went through.”
“All woman do.”
He kissed her perspiration-damp hair and straightened away from her only when the nurse handed her their new son, already swaddled in a light blanket.
He leaned over the child and looked into the tiny face.
Jensen touched the soft little cheek.
Michael leaned over and gathered them both in his arms, then took Jensen’s hand and raised it to his lips, as he gazed at her.
“We’ll never make our son marry a woman he doesn’t love, will we?” she asked.
“Never.”
“And if he doesn’t want to be a king...?”
Michael leaned over and kissed her lips. “Perhaps by that time our little country will be a democracy.”
“Oh, Michael,” she whispered, “I love you. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love you more, I find I do.”
He kissed her again.
The look in his eyes said it all.
IMPRINT: e-book Blush Single
ISBN: 9781460869192
TITLE: THE SHEIK'S MISTRESS
First Australian Publication 2012
Copyright © 2012 BRITTANY YOUNG
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