The Sheikh’s Accidental Heir (Sharjah Sheikhs Book 2)

by Leslie North

  Desire burst in him, hot and as consuming as a desert storm. Turning, he gestured to the small cakes that were cooling. “Is that for the wedding? You are putting a great deal of effort into this.”

  “I’m being well paid, aren’t I? Both to get it done and put it off.”

  He glanced at her and frowned, uncertain what she was talking about. But she cut off a slice of one of the cakes and held it up between her thumb and forefingers. “Honey spice angel food? Devil’s food just seemed too obvious a choice.”

  “Whatever it is, I will always want a taste if you offer.” He took her wrist and pulled her fingers to his lips. Pressing the tip of his tongue to the edge of her thumb, he licked, and guided her hand to his lips, leaving her no choice but to allow him to take her finger and the cake into his mouth. He bit into the cake’s sweetness, and then sucked her finger, watching her eyes dilate.

  Letting go of her hand, he saw her pull away. He smiled. “It is just the way I like it.”

  He saw her throat work, but she did not step away from him. His mouth went dry. She tilted her head to one side. “This is impossible, you know.”

  Ahmed put his hands on her waist. “What I know is that we fit together.”

  She shook her head. “We had a fling, that’s all. A couple of days.”

  “And why can we not have more?”

  Melanie reached up and brushed her fingers over his lips. “Because…you’re a prince, and this Cinderella works for a living and has a company to run.”

  Growling, he pulled her against him. “You can feel my desire for you.” He rocked his hips against her. She gave a low moan, and her eyes slid half closed.

  Ahmed lifted one hand and buried his fingers in her hair. “I want you so much.” Leaning close, he kissed the corner of her mouth and then her neck, just where her collar hung open.

  With a shove, she pushed him away. “Ahmed, you’re getting married and we’re not…not going to screw around in the kitchen.”

  Reluctantly, he let go of her. “And after this wedding is no more?”

  “After… I’ll be heading to New York, and I’ll have to work damn hard to clean up my company’s reputation. It’s only your money I want.” Melanie snapped the words out at him, aiming them like knives. “I’ll make sure you have the time to blow it up—but then I’m gone.”

  He shook his head. “What are you talking about? The time to blow it up?”

  She parted her lips as if to say something, turned pale and suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth. Turning, she darted to the bathroom. He heard sounds of retching. Following her, he found her leaning over the sink. The room smelled of vomit, and Melanie was shaking.

  “That does it. You are seeing the palace doctor. Now.”

  She started to shake her head, but he simply swept her up in his arms.

  “Ahmed—”

  “No, I am not hearing any more protests.”

  “I was going to ask what happens if I throw up all over you.”

  He glanced at her. “Then you throw up. Try at least to aim for one of the potted plants.” Thankfully, she did not throw up, and Ahmed carried her into the office of the palace physician.

  Dr. Hashim glanced up from his computer and came immediately to the couch where Ahmed had settled Melanie. Ahmed explained how Melanie had been throwing up.

  Hashim had been the palace doctor for as long as Ahmed could remember. Portly now, his head balding, he looked his age, but his black eyes were as sharp as ever and he told Ahmed to wait outside. Ahmed paced the corridor. At last, Hashim opened the door and gestured for Ahmed to enter again. Melanie was buttoning up her shirt and still looking pale.

  Glancing from Melanie to Hashim, Ahmed asked, “What is it? Flu? Food poisoning?”

  “Oh, something far more serious,” Dr. Hashim said. He rubbed a hand over his balding head. “As I have told her, she should start vitamins. It is early yet, but I see no reason she should not have a healthy baby.”

  Ahmed’s legs threatened to buckle. He put a hand out and caught himself on the wall. He glanced at Melanie. She was not looking at him, but was staring at the floor. Ahmed looked at Hashim again. “Could you give us a minute?”

  Dr. Hashim nodded and left. Ahmed walked over to stand in front of Melanie. “I meant to tell you—the condom, that last time—it broke.”

  She glanced up at him, her mouth set. “Great. Now you tell me.”

  He swallowed hard. A lump seemed stuck in his throat. “Do you…will you fly home and…and…” His words fled.

  Melanie stared up at him. Her eyes seemed to harden into emeralds that flashed fire. “And what? Take care of it? Get an abortion? Get rid of this…complication? News flash—it’s my body, my baby, and—” She cut off her words and sucked in a breath. “And I’ll decide.”

  He stiffened. “It is my child as well. And I will not see any baby of mine brought into this world without a name.”

  She stood. “He or she will have a name. And if you think I’m marrying you just because I’m pregnant, think again. This…well, it isn’t planned, but I’m more than able to figure out my own life, thank you very much, Mr. Sheik.” She pushed past him and walked out the door.

  Ahmed sat down.

  A child. A flare of excitement kindled in him. He could see Melanie with his baby in her arms. He wanted that. This changed everything between them—but how did he make her see this as well?

  11

  Melanie headed for her room, locked the door behind her and leaned against it, eyes closed. No wonder she’d been exhausted and throwing up. Pregnant. The word echoed in her head. She wanted to burst into tears. She put her hands on her stomach. She also wanted to give a shout.

  A baby wasn’t in her plans, not now anyway. And not like this. But she’s always wanted a family—a big one. That had been a someday idea for after she’d established herself and her company. But now…

  Images of her as a single mom, working for someone else’s restaurant or catering company because she couldn’t put in the hours necessary to run her own business, flashed into her mind.

  And then she thought of Ahmed, pushing a toddler on a swing as the child laughed.

  Eyes opening, she drew a shallow breath, wishing that image could come true.

  But she was too old for fantasies like that. She wasn’t Cinderella, Ahmed didn’t have a glass slipper, and happy ever after didn’t happen. Not in her world.

  She frowned and rubbed her forehead. One thing she knew in her bones—she was not getting an abortion. She also had some time, and a hundred thousand dollars coming to her if she managed to get the delays to the wedding that Ahmed wanted. That would do a lot to help her deal with a baby. She might be able to make this work if she got Ahmed his wedding delay. She rubbed her tight forehead again. She was not going to think about Ahmed not only getting out of his wedding with Nasiji but also asking her to marry him. No way. He’d want her to live in this palace and give up her life and her work. She’d seen how Nasiji had to wear robes and a veil and how even the women in the city covered their heads. That wasn’t for her. She had a life back in New York—not here.

  And now she had a baby to plan for.

  Pushing off the door, she pulled out her phone. She ordered the vitamins the doctor had recommended, did a little research on how to deal with morning sickness and low energy, and then she did what she hadn’t done in far too many weeks. She called her mother.

  She didn’t have to say more than hello before her mother said, “What’s the matter, baby?”

  “It’s just been a tough job and I guess…well, I’m just tired and ready to come home.”

  Her mother gave a low chuckle. “Man trouble?”

  Melanie winced. “Okay, how on earth do you figure that stuff out so fast?”

  “Honey, it’s a mother’s sixth sense. You know you can talk to me about anything. I was—honey, I worked too much when you were growing up. I missed out on so much. Don’t make me miss out on more. What’s going on?
” The soft tone of her mom’s voice was too much, and Melanie began to cry. “Melanie? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “Oh, Mom, I just…I fell for a guy I shouldn’t have and he’s…let’s just say I don’t think he’s Mr. Dependable and…I’m pregnant.” She let out the last word on a wail.

  “Melanie, honey, it’s not the end of the world. Plenty of women raise children on their own. I did, and I know it wasn’t fun at times, and it doesn’t mean you won’t meet someone else later.”

  “But I don’t want anyone else. I’m an idiot to say that.”

  Her mother laughed—dammit. “Yeah, the wrong guys have a lot of charm. But, honey, I’m here for you. My mom—bless her—wasn’t alive for me, but I’m here. You’re not going to be on your own. It’s not going to be hard work and giving up everything. And, darling, as much as I wanted some things, I wouldn’t exchange you for any other life. You were a blessing. So don’t you think that the way you were raised is how it has to be. I never had your skills in the kitchen. And you will never have to work the hours I did.”

  Melanie wiped at her nose. “I know I’m whining, but I can’t help myself.”

  “Melanie Marie Martin, now you listen to me and you listen to me now. You’re going to be an emotional mess. That’s just the hormones. And I’ve got to tell you, sometimes it’s those unexpected detours that are often the best things to happen to us. You may or may not hang onto this guy, so just enjoy every moment you do have and…and take it easy on yourself. On him, too. Now, go wash your face. Put your shoulders back, and do what you’ve done since you were eight and your daddy walked out on us—go bake something.”

  Managing a low chuckle, Melanie wiped at her eyes. “You’re right, Mom. On everything. I’ll call you soon as I’m back in New York.” She ended the call and then headed to the one thing that had always saved her sanity—the kitchen and cooking.

  Of course, she should have known better.

  Ahmed was waiting for her there.

  She almost turned around and headed back to the refuge of her room. But they needed to talk. They could deal with this like two adults—or that’s what she hoped.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ahmed asked.

  She headed to her knives, which were spread out in the carrying case she had brought with her. “Work,” she said.

  He came over to her and took her hand. “You should be thinking about more important things. Names, for example.”

  She pulled her hand from his gasp and faced him. “My work is important, Ahmed. I’ve busted my butt to get MM Catering established. I… I had to declare bankruptcy once before this. I tried a restaurant and it didn’t work out, so I found another way. The money you’re paying me, that’s going to help, but I am not giving up my business—I love it too much.”

  Ahmed stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You and the baby have nothing to worry about. I will support you and the child completely. You may work only as much as you wish.”

  Melanie crossed her arms. “Oh, great. Thanks. Just what I want. To be a kept woman. You’re not hearing me. My work is important. My business matters to me. I’m not in this to make it a hobby.”.

  He rubbed his beard and shook his head. “So you intend to push me out of your life? To leave this child without a father? Or…what, you think you can find an American man to be the father to my child?”

  She bit down on her lower lip. “No, I know there’s the child to consider. I…I don’t want him or her not to have a dad around.” She leaned a hand on the counter. The urge to burst into tears was hovering close, stinging her eyes. “I just…I think I need time to absorb this.”

  He covered her hands with his. “Let me handle everything for you.”

  He sounded more serious than she’d ever heard him sound before. She almost couldn’t believe his reaction. She didn’t know what she’d expected from him, but she hadn’t expected him to suddenly want to be a dad.

  She glanced at him, took in the dark eyes, the slight curve to his mouth. “You know, there are a lot of things I wanted to do before having a child,” she said, not really talking to him, though if he happened to be listening that was fine, too.

  His smile widened. “You talk like you just found out you were disabled.”

  She nodded. “There are a lot of things you can’t do once you have a child. And the things you can do with one suddenly become more complicated as you juggle the responsibility of being a parent with whatever you’re doing. You know, I had a plan. Or, I thought I had a plan.”

  “I know,” Ahmed said, running a hand through her hair, sympathy in his voice. “I did as well—and now it is dust. I am going to lose everything with this gamble—my father’s respect. But…but I will at least have my own self-respect. And you. I do not want to lose you. And this baby does not have to be the end of all of your dreams and ambitions. Think of us in New York. Me with that gallery I wish to open—and my real estate investments. You cater not for weddings but for business events, such as the one where we met. And for the openings at my galleries.”

  She smiled. “You just jumped from one gallery to several. But that’s not a bad idea—specialize in business events. Not weddings. It wouldn’t matter then what happens with you and Nasiji.”

  He frowned. “I may have to work some magic yet.” He took her hand between both of his. “I don’t know what will happen next. Khalid will someday assume my father’s position as sultan, and Zaid is being groomed to take over many of the family business interests. And I’ve spent too much of my life partying and getting in trouble. I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But I’ve always wanted to start my own business.”

  She let out a breath. “I guess you’ll have plenty of opportunity with our baby to prove them wrong—that you are responsible.”

  “Our baby.” He grinned. “It sounds better every time.”

  “But, Ahmed, what about Nasiji? Is she going to get stuck getting married to any old body just because you won’t marry her?”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “I wish I could say that this is one thing that will be easy to throw money at to make everything better, but it isn’t. Right now, I’m asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”

  Melanie stared at him, unsure how to respond. Could she trust him? But he was the father of her child. How could she not at least give him a chance? She nodded and said, “Okay, what’s the plan?”

  12

  Ahmed took Melanie with him to confront his father. This was not going to be easy, but it must be done. The child changed everything. This was a huge risk—he knew he was facing the loss of everything. If this went wrong, he would lose Melanie and the baby. He would have to face prison if his father lost his temper. But it was a chance. He had to take it.

  They came across Nasiji near the front door—in a dress that must have come from Paris. With her olive skin, green eyes and long, black hair, she was startling.

  She also looked startled.

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced from Ahmed to Melanie.

  Ahmed glanced at the luggage near her feet. “Going somewhere?” Nasiji’s cheeks darkened, and Ahmed smiled. “You’ve been preparing your escape from here, haven’t you? Getting your own plans in place.”

  She lifted her chin. “What, I was supposed to trust you would get us out of this marriage?” She glanced at Melanie. “You should be warned. Ahmed is best at looking after himself.”

  Ahmed’s face warmed, but Melanie stepped up to Nasiji. “In New York, a girl learns a few things—like how to spot a good guy. You should have trusted Ahmed.”

  Nasiji’s face darkened even more. The front door opened, and a man stepped in. Ahmed stiffened. “Who are you?”

  The man gave a low bow. He dressed in traditional robes and curiously light-amber eyes. Ahmed heard Melanie suck in a breath and mutter, “You.”

  The man stepped closer to Nasiji. “Are you ready?”

  Nasiji gave a short nod. “Yes, Jamul.”

/>   Ahmed stepped forward. “Just who are you, and why are you making off with Nasiji?”

  Nasiji faced him. “You have no more business in my affairs. And this is the son of my father’s cousin.”

  Ahmed frowned. “The old man you don’t want to marry—but you do want to run off with his son?”

  Jamul grinned. “It has taken me long enough to convince her it is a good idea. And now we must go.”

  In a low voice, Melanie muttered, “Guess this means our deal is off?”

  Jamul glanced at her. “I think you are in Ahmed’s care.”

  Ahmed glanced from her to Jamul, but Melanie merely shrugged and Jamul was too busy picking up Nasiji’s luggage. He huffed out a breath. “I will see if I can keep my father’s attention long enough for you to get to the airport.”

  “I have a yacht waiting,” Jamul said.

  Nasiji turned and started for the door, but she came back, stood on tiptoe and kissed Ahmed’s cheek. “I am sorry I could not wait for you to be my hero and save me from a marriage I did not want.”

  Ahmed gave her a small smile and caught her hand. “Where is your burka? Did you leave it?”

  She shook her head and gestured to the smallest of her luggage. Taking the bag from Jamul, Ahmed gave it to Melanie. “Here. Take this with you. Just in case. And then wait for me in your room.”

  Her lips parted, and he knew she was about to ask questions or protest. So he kissed her quickly and said, “Please, Melanie.”

  She let out a breath, but she took the case. “I’ve got a feeling whatever you’re planning is not going to go well.”

  He shrugged and then looked at Jamul. Taking Nasiji’s hand, he put it in Jamul’s free hand. “Beat her if she gives you trouble—and she will.”

  Jamul grinned. “Oh, no. I know how to treasure a pearl beyond price.”

  The two headed out the front door. Ahmed glanced at Melanie and took her hand. “And now I must not only tell my father that I am marrying you since you carry my child, but that Nasiji has fled the country rather than marry me.”