Sold To The Sheikh: His Indecent Proposal (An Interracial Sheikh Romance Novel)

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Sold To The Sheikh: His Indecent Proposal (An Interracial Sheikh Romance Novel) Page 7

by Holly Rayner


  “Oh absolutely. Dr. Farber said she wants to make sure I’m still able to have babies of my own after this is done.” Mia laughed bitterly. “Because surely if I’m resorting to IVF now, I’m going to be able to have babies of my own later on the natural way, no problem.” Mia’s mom bit her bottom lip.

  “Have you and Rami considered that?”

  Mia blushed. “No, we’re keeping it strictly business between us. If we did it that way it’d feel like…” Mia squirmed.

  “Like prostitution?” Amie cut in.

  Mia nodded. “Well, you know… some women try the artificial way for years and then give up…and find themselves pregnant the old-fashioned way.”

  “I just…sometimes wish I knew about my birth parents,” Mia said, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Not because I care about them or anything—I don’t even remember them, or know…” why they gave me up before I even had a chance to know them, her mind finished—though she didn’t say it out loud. “But I mean, my bio mom had to have conceived me naturally, right? If she was fertile…”

  “Sweetheart, if your birth mother was able to conceive, you’ll be able to conceive.”

  Mia laughed again, shaking her head. “I don’t know that, and neither do you.”

  “It’s your first cycle, baby girl. Give it a good chance, a good few times, before you start worrying.”

  “But Rami is paying me so much money for this. If I can’t even get pregnant…” Mia’s eyes stung with tears. “I’ll feel like a failure, like I wasted his time.”

  “And what does Rami say?”

  Mia took a deep breath and sighed. “He says that if it doesn’t work out, no harm done,” Mia replied. “That he would just consider it an investment that didn’t pan out.” She frowned, picking at imaginary lint on her jeans. “But that doesn’t make me feel any differently. If I can’t have kids this way…maybe I can’t ever have kids.” Mia’s mom gave her a quick hug.

  “Well, if that happens, like your Dad and me, you’ll adopt. And you’ll make some little girl or boy’s life as special as you can, and give them love.” Mia nodded, resting her head on her mother’s skinny shoulder.

  “You’re right,” she replied. “It won’t stop me from feeling like I basically robbed Rami, but at least…if I can’t get pregnant…at least it’s another option.”

  * * *

  Four weeks later, Mia found herself in Dr. Farber’s office again, with Rami at her side. “Welcome back,” the doctor said as they sat down. “How are you feeling, Mia?” Mia smiled weakly.

  “Like I’ve been scoured by a Brill-o pad,” she said. Dr. Farber nodded sympathetically.

  “Yes, implantation can feel like that,” the doctor agreed. “Are you feeling tired, achy, nauseated?” Mia shrugged.

  “Not any more than usual.” She felt her eyes stinging with tears and looked up at the ceiling, taking a quick, deep breath. The hormones she’d been taking in order to produce the eggs for the procedure were taking their toll on her; Mia had had to stop watching a movie just the day before because she couldn’t stop crying.

  “Well, your blood tests have come back within normal range, which you’ll be pleased to hear, I’m sure,” Dr. Farber’s voice was reassuring, and Mia tried to suppress the nervous feeling bubbling up inside of her. Rami reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze.

  “What about the eggs?” Mia asked finally, steeling herself for bad news.

  “They’re doing wonderfully,” the doctor said. “Exactly what we wanted to see. And the fertilization is looking positive. We’ll know for sure that it’s set in another twenty-four to forty-eight hours, but right now it’s looking very promising.” Mia sighed with relief.

  “So then they can be implanted?” Rami’s voice sounded almost as anxious as Mia’s.

  “Absolutely. You’re going to have some more discomfort, I’m afraid, but as long as nothing interferes with the fertilization, the embryos can be implanted in the next three days or so. We’ll only implant a few of them—the rest can be frozen for another attempt.”

  “I really hope we don’t need another attempt,” Mia said wearily. She glanced at Rami. “I’m actually starting to think I should’ve held out for more money from you.”

  Rami grinned. “I’m perfectly willing to pay you more,” he told her. “Just name your price.” Mia gritted her teeth, trying to suppress a flare of anger that she knew was totally disproportionate.

  “I don’t mean it,” she said finally. “I’d just…really love to get on with being pregnant. I don’t think it could be any more uncomfortable than what I’ve already gone through.” Dr. Farber laughed, giving her another sympathetic look.

  “Many of my patients feel that way,” she said. “And most of them say, once they do get pregnant, that they were right about it.”

  “Good to know it’s all sunshine from here,” Mia said, smiling weakly again.

  “So once we implant the embryos, you will be waiting for two weeks,” Dr. Farber told them. “And then you can take a pregnancy test to see if they have taken.”

  “Two weeks?” Rami sounded somewhat shocked. “But if she has fertile eggs, and the embryos are implanted inside of her, how could she not become pregnant?”

  “There are still many things which could go wrong: sometimes the body rejects the embryos, sometimes the uterus doesn’t cooperate, and sometimes the embryos don’t work their way down into the uterine wall the way they need to. If the embryos—one or all of them—implant as is required, it takes two weeks for the hormones to be strong enough to detect in a pregnancy test.”

  “More waiting,” Mia said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I’m getting so good at waiting, I’m becoming a pro.”

  “You’ve been incredibly patient, and understanding of everything, Mia,” Dr. Farber said.

  “Yes,” Rami agreed. “I really appreciate how willing you’ve been to go through this for my sake.”

  “Well, with an offer like the one you made…” Mia took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m just hoping we can make this work. I’ll feel terrible if we can’t.”

  “It can take time,” Dr. Farber cautioned her. “Don’t get discouraged if the treatment isn’t successful this first round. It often takes several cycles to conceive this way.”

  “I want to make sure we’re doing this the safest way possible,” Rami said. “You’re sure you have enough sperm and enough eggs—and that there won’t be any need for her to take the kinds of hormones she did before?”

  “We should have enough fertilized eggs to do at least three cycles,” Dr. Farber said. “If we’re more conservative, maybe four or five.”

  “Oh man, I so hope it doesn’t take five cycles,” Mia said flatly.

  “Without wanting to upset you, it might,” Dr. Farber told her gently. “Which is why I don’t want you to feel down on yourself if it doesn’t happen this time. There’s a science of reproductive medicine and there’s an art, and sometimes the science isn’t enough.”

  Mia took a sip of the water Dr. Farber had given her. “Okay,” she said. “I won’t get all worked up if it doesn’t happen this time, I promise.”

  “And remember, both of you, that if it gets to be too stressful, we can take a break for a few months,” Dr. Farber said.

  “That’s right, Mia,” Rami told her, giving her hand a squeeze. “A break would be as much a part of this as the active part.”

  “You are not going to convince me to stay in your pay when I’m not even actively trying to get knocked up,” Mia told him firmly.

  “Too much stress reduces the chances of successful conception,” Dr. Farber repeated. “If we’re not able to get it in three cycles, I will insist that you take a month off—maybe even two—to get the hormones out of your system and build your body back up. And that’s part of this process. It isn’t my place to advise on your monetary arrangement, but from a medical point of view, if Rami is paying you for this process, he shoul
d be paying you for that, too.” Mia looked from the doctor to her benefactor and decided that no matter how logically she argued with them, neither was going to budge on the issue.

  “Okay, fine. When can I come in and be implanted?”

  “Another two days and we’ll know for sure. We’ll be in touch very soon, don’t you worry.”

  SEVEN

  “Okay,” Mia said, setting her phone down on her bathroom counter. “I want you to know that this isn’t any less weird the fifth time than it was the first.” Rami laughed on the other end of the phone, the sound echoing from the speaker.

  “Well you won’t let me be there in person, so what choice do I have?” Mia rolled her eyes and tried to fight down the blush that warmed her cheeks. She had agreed to call Rami when she took a pregnancy test after the first cycle of artificial insemination; now on the second cycle of IVF, she would have thought that she couldn’t have a single shred of modesty left—and yet she still felt strange handling her urine while she had him on the phone.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually awake for this. What were you doing last night?” Mia felt a flicker of envy that throughout this process, Rami’s life had not been nearly as interrupted as her own. I didn’t go out much even when I wasn’t trying to get pregnant, Mia reminded herself.

  “For your information, I stayed in last night because I knew I would be waking up early to do this with you,” Rami told her, sounding haughty.

  “I’m sure the models at the club were just heartbroken,” Mia said wryly.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Rami countered. “I haven’t been hanging out with them.”

  “Lies. Filthy lies.” Mia took a deep breath and took the cap off of the test applicator. She looked at the tiny cup and exhaled. “Okay, dipping the applicator now.”

  “How long do we have to wait?”

  “The directions say three minutes,” Mia replied. She held the fibrous tip of the applicator in the liquid for a moment to make sure it absorbed, then quickly took it out and put the cap back on. “Starting now.” She set the timer and sat down on the edge of her tub.

  “So, what were you up to last night?” Rami inquired.

  “Oh God, this small talk,” Mia said, shaking her head. “I ate at a restaurant with Mom.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Better,” Mia said, smiling to herself. “The doctor in New York gave her some recommendations on who is best to see around here, and gave her some fresh information to give to the new doctors. We’re hopeful.”

  “That’s great! Have you started looking at houses?” Mia bit her bottom lip.

  “Kind of. Not seriously, yet. I guess I’m sort of…waiting to see if I’m going to be pregnant anytime soon.”

  “Yeah,” Rami’s cheery tone quieted slightly. “That’s something to consider.”

  “I would love to see you baby-proofing your house when the time comes,” Mia said, trying to lighten the mood. She had been to Rami’s penthouse apartment once. As the months had passed, they had become more and more comfortable with each other, and one afternoon Rami had invited her over to see his place. Whenever she remembered it, Mia was torn between shock and amusement at how incredibly grand it was.

  “All that expensive furniture getting covered in scotch-guard; all those priceless cabinets with those ugly locks on them. It’ll be hilarious.”

  “I might abandon the idea completely,” Rami said. “Get another place and start over.”

  “Now, see, you say things like that and you have no idea how ridiculous it sounds to someone who isn’t so insanely wealthy.”

  Rami chuckled. “Everyone I know thinks it makes more sense to get a house out in the country instead of trying to make it work here.”

  Mia shook her head. “With the exception of me, who do you know who makes less than, say…half a million dollars a year?”

  “Hmm,” Rami considered. “I don’t think I know do know anyone. But hey—you’ve already made more than half a million this year. You no longer count.”

  Mia’s eyes widened. “I did not even realize that,” she said. “You’re right.”

  “You’re one of us rich kids too now.” Rami laughed. “You can’t talk shit about me anymore!”

  “Yeah, well actually…” but before Mia could finish her sentence, the buzzer on her timer went off. “Okay, here goes,” she said. She stood and walked the two steps from the bathroom to the counter. Looking down at the test applicator, her heart sank.

  After a pause that seemed to go on forever, Rami broke the silence. “What does it say?” Mia took a deep breath.

  “Not pregnant. That’s what it says. It says, very clearly, ‘not pregnant.’” Mia trembled and sank onto the floor of the bathroom, her vision wavering as tears began to form in her eyes. Rami sighed.

  “Dr. Farber said it’s not unusual for it to take up to five tries, Mia,” he said, his voice full of sympathy. “Sometimes even more.”

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” The words left her in almost a wail. “Why the hell isn’t this working?”

  “Let me come over,” Rami said. “I’ll bring you breakfast, and we’ll watch something—something with no babies in it.” Mia brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, waves of grief washing through her.

  “What’s wrong with me, Rami?”

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Mia. It just takes time. That’s all.”

  “It’s been six months!”

  “Some people have to keep trying for years,” Rami reminded her. “You have to stop beating yourself up about this, it’s not healthy.”

  “It’s not healthy? Neither is pumping myself full of hormones to ovulate, or producing fifty freaking eggs at one time! None of this is healthy, or normal, but it’s supposed to be—it’s supposed to work.” Mia shuddered as a sob worked through her. “You need to just…just give up on me. Please, just find someone else; it shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

  “Mia,” Rami’s voice was so soft down the phone. “Come on. I know it’s tough. I know you’re tired. Please just let me come over. I’ll bring you some food, and I promise we won’t talk about this or even think about it for the rest of the day.”

  “I just feel like a freak,” Mia said, sniffling as her nose began to run. “I can’t do the single most important thing a woman’s supposed to be able to do.” Mia’s abdomen shook as another sob wracked her.

  “Shh, Mia, it’s okay. You’re not a freak, you’re a wonderful woman. God knows this is a really tough way to get pregnant, Dr. Farber’s told us both a dozen times.”

  “Doesn’t make me feel less like a failure,” Mia muttered, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against her knees.

  “You’re not a failure. Come on. If you don’t want to stay in, let’s go to a museum, or a park or something. You need to get your mind off of this.”

  After a long, pensive pause, Mia wiped at her face and took a deep breath. “I guess,” she said finally. “Okay. You can come over with breakfast and we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

  “Good,” Rami said, and Mia thought she could hear him smiling. “As my contractor I hereby order you to not even think about babies or pregnancy for the next forty-eight hours, do you hear me?” Mia laughed weakly.

  “Right up until we meet with Dr. Farber again and tell her I’m still just as un-knocked-up as ever?”

  “Exactly. Get a shower. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

 

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