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 10

by Holly Rayner


  “I wanted to protect you, once you—once I knew you were going to be carrying my child. You don’t exactly live in the safest part of town, you know.”

  “At least no one in the part of town I live in is having me stalked!” Mia stood up unsteadily, looking around to see if the cab would arrive. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe…. No, you know what, I can believe it. I just can’t believe I was so stupid that I didn’t even think you might be doing this.” Mia almost cried out with relief when the bright yellow flash of a taxi appeared in the parking lot, coming straight to the bar. “Don’t even try and talk to me right now, Rami al-Hassan. I am so damn furious that I could spit on you, but you wouldn’t be worth it.”

  “You call for a cab, Ma’am?” Mia didn’t even glance at Rami as she nodded, fumbling slightly for the door handle. Rami moved closer, and opened the door for her silently. Without thanking him, Mia climbed into the cab and gave the driver her address. She focused on staring straight ahead, struggling to control her nausea.

  TEN

  After her one day of excess, Mia returned immediately to her near-dry lifestyle; the tequila hangover was more than enough to convince her that she didn’t want to drink for a long time. The morning after, she saw that she had three calls from Rami and two from her mother. She called her mother back to let her know that she was okay, but couldn’t bring herself to deal with either Rami’s accusations or his apologies, whichever he wanted to exchange. She felt so violated; the knowledge that he had had her followed for months, and that he obviously didn’t see anything wrong with it, hurt her more than she could have expected. Didn’t he trust her? “You don’t exactly live in the best part of town.” The words played in her head over and over as she nursed herself through the hangover, eating toast and drinking tea.

  It took days for her rage at Rami’s high-handed manipulation to ebb, and once Mia stopped being so angry with him, she didn’t know what to do with herself. She had enough money in the bank to last at least a few months, even with her mother’s bills. If she had to, Mia knew she could go back to working at the school. The semester was almost over but she had heard more than once from the administration that they’d take her back, no questions asked. And yet, the mere thought of going back to the grind of grading papers, trying to inspire students who in many cases had already given up on learning, made Mia’s heart pound with dread.

  Rami called her every day, three times a day, the first week after their fight. Mia refused to answer, letting the phone roll over to voicemail every time. Initially, afraid of what he might have to say to her, she had deleted his messages unheard. But after a week of avoiding him, her curiosity won out. Rather than simply deleting the voicemail, Mia listened to one that had been left at ten o’clock at night. “Mia, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what I did. I know—I know it was the wrong thing to do, but I really, truly just wanted to protect you. I know you’re angry, but I hope you still want to go through with this. Please call me back.”

  Mia stared at her phone in shock. Rami wanted her to try again? After everything they’d been through? After that fight? Her mind spun with questions: could she trust him not to have her followed again? Could she handle continuing the treatments, having her body full of artificial chemicals to manipulate her cycle? Did she even want to have anything to do with Rami anymore?

  The next time he called, she didn’t let it roll over to voicemail. She answered the phone, boredom and exasperation making her brave. “Rami, I need time to think. Please don’t leave any more messages on my phone, I won’t listen to them.”

  “Mia—can’t we just meet up and talk about this in person?”

  “Rami, I’m still exhausted, and upset. I don’t know what I want to do. Give me more time.” She hung up before Rami could say anything else.

  One week became two, and Rami no longer left any messages, but continued to call her three times a day. Mia answered once every couple of days, and only to tell him that she still needed time; that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—meet up with him in person. We’re supposed to be taking a break from treatment. I’m supposed to be resting and relaxing, not stressing myself out, Mia thought resentfully, every time Rami called.

  Apart from visits to her mom and the occasional trip to the grocery store—looking over her shoulder all the time, trying to discern if someone was following her—Mia basically didn’t leave her house for three weeks. The very idea that Rami might still have someone on her tail, informing him of her whereabouts and what she was doing, made it impossible for her to feel comfortable. Even in her own home, where she knew no one could be hiding in a convenient closet (she checked), or sitting outside waiting for her to leave, she felt strangely conspicuous. She told her mother that she and Rami had decided to take some time off from the treatments, to give her body a chance to build back up. Amie didn’t question the idea at all, and in fact seemed almost relieved. When Mia checked her bank account and saw a new deposit for one hundred thousand dollars, she nearly called the bank to reverse it. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to do something that would so clearly sever what was left of her relationship with Rami.

  * * *

  Mia sat in her living room, pretending to watch TV, drinking an herbal concoction Dr. Farber had told her would be safe to continue drinking throughout her pregnancy—when and if that ever happened. She had liked the taste so much that even though she no longer realistically thought she would ever be pregnant, she had taken to drinking it when she wanted something hot.

  Without warning, Mia’s heart started racing. She looked around the room; the walls felt so much closer than they had only minutes before, her living room seemed too quiet even with the TV on, and she had the sudden suspicion that if she tried to leave the house, she would find the doors locked from the outside. “I have to get out of here,” she said, putting down her mug and standing up quickly. “If I stay in this stupid house for even five minutes longer I’m going to lose my mind completely.”

  Mia went into her bedroom and grabbed her jacket and purse. She unplugged her phone, slipped it into the dark confines of her purse and hurried through the hallway to the front door. For a terrifying moment, she was unable to turn the deadbolt latch, and Mia’s heart beat faster and harder inside of her at the thought that, ridiculous as it was, her suspicion of being locked in from the outside was somehow accurate. The next instant, the lock turned over and Mia pulled the door open with a hard jerk. She locked the door behind her and darted down the three steps to her car. Her keys clinked and clattered and nearly fell from her anxious hands, but she managed to unlock the driver’s side and get inside, buckling her seat belt in an automatic movement.

  On an impulse, Mia drove out of her neighborhood and headed east on the main road, traveling past the school without even sparing a glance to see if the PE class was outside. She drove towards the ocean, to the piers; it was the only place she could think of, the only place that would be open enough, broad enough, and far enough away from her confining house to give her the relief she craved. There was almost no one there in the middle of the week, so she was able to find parking with no problem.

  Her heart started to slow down to normal speed as she walked away from the parking lot and out onto the pier itself, the wind blowing her hair back from her face, the seagulls screaming to each other and at the few people below, catching thermals to swoop and dive. Mia took a deep breath and followed the walkway to the end of the pier. She looked out over the water, towards the horizon, and leaned against one of the pilings, letting the sheer openness of the scene in front of her trickle through her brain, infecting her with a calm she hadn’t felt in weeks.

  As her panic cleared, Mia started to think about her situation. “I can’t keep living like this,” she said to herself quietly. “I can’t. It’s just too much.” She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, imagining—for an instant—that she was blowing the few, fluffy clouds gathered over the ocean away from her. She had two choic
es, she thought. On the one hand, she could go back to Rami on the basis that they keep their relationship strictly professional; she could take his money and refuse to go to lunch with him, or spend any time with him which wasn’t directly related to her conceiving. She could just make the whole arrangement nothing more than a business transaction.

  Or, she thought, worrying at her bottom lip, I could break it off completely. I could tell him to find someone else, that obviously I’m not a good candidate to be the mother of his child. The money would absolutely stop coming in if she did that, but Mia was less concerned about money now than she would have ever thought she could be when she had started the process. If she broke things off with him entirely and refused to continue the contract, Mia knew that she would never see Rami again. They’d part ways completely, and she not only wouldn’t have a child to show for it, but she would lose a man who she had come to consider something of a friend. He had done so much for her, above and beyond what they’d initially agreed. “I’d have to leave town,” Mia muttered to herself. It wouldn’t be too difficult with the money she already had in her account. She could go to a new town, pick up a new teaching job, and just ask her mother to never again mention the six months or more she had spent as someone’s unsuccessful surrogate.

  Catching a blur of movement on the right-hand side of her peripheral vision, Mia turned instinctively. She’d gotten so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even seen the person approaching. As she turned completely to confirm that it wasn’t anyone coming after her for some reason, Mia saw—instead—that the figure was none other than Rami, dressed down in jeans and a hoodie. Mia stared, for a moment unable to process what she was seeing, begging her brain to discover that she was mistaken. But in spite of the more modest-than-usual clothes, she knew for certain this was her boss, her client, her friend; the man who right at that particular moment, she least wanted to see of anyone in the world.

  ELEVEN

  Mia’s shock dissipated with a few heartbeats, and adrenaline surged through her body as she remembered the reason why she had broken off her agreement with Rami in the first place. Son of a bitch had me followed again! Mia’s heart began to pound not with panic but with anger, and she turned away from the pier railing, watching as Rami took up a position off to the side, leaning against another piling.

  She strode towards him, trembling with the anger that crackled through her veins, determined to confront him about manipulating her. Wasn’t it enough that he called her three times a day? That she felt like a prisoner in her own house? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Mia gritted her teeth, her hands tightening into fists as she advanced on him. An impulse ran along her arm, to raise one of her hands and let it fly at the back of Rami’s head, but she held back. Instead, Mia took a breath and tapped him on the shoulder.

  Rami turned around, looking startled.

  “What, were you just going to pretend like you just happened to decide to come to the pier too? Why are you still having someone follow me? Can’t you just leave me alone to think about what I want to do, what I need?” Rami threw his hands defensively, his eyes widening in the face of her anger.

  “No—no. I know you won’t believe me, Mia, but I really, genuinely just came here on my own. I know now that it was screwed up to have you followed; no one has been watching you for weeks!”

  “Why would you pick this spot then?” Mia countered, not missing a beat.

  “I just kind of always liked it here. I’ve always come here when I needed to think,” Rami said, shrugging. He let his hands fall to his sides. “Look, I know I was wrong to have you followed. As soon as you went home that night I told the guy I’d hired that I didn’t need his services any longer.” Mia peered at Rami’s face intently. To her surprise, she could see faint lines around his eyes, a puffiness to his face that she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Well okay, say I believe you” Mia said uncertainly. “Why have you been calling me three times a day, then?” Rami smiled weakly.

  “Well first of all, because I wanted to try and make amends,” he said. “You never gave me a chance! But also, because I do still hope we can work things out between us on the issue of having kids. I still want you to be the mother of my child.” Mia shook her head.

  “But what if I just can’t conceive? You’d be wasting your money.”

  Rami shrugged. “If you can’t get pregnant this way, we can take some of the fertilized eggs and just…I guess…put them in a surrogate. Or something. We could go to another country and see a different doctor there.” Mia considered the suggestion; with her mother’s condition still uncertain, she wasn’t sure she could just up and leave the country. But at the same time, she had been working so hard to become pregnant, she wanted to try every possibility before she gave up on it completely.

  Even more than that, seeing Rami in person made Mia realize that she had genuinely missed being around him. The feeling of comfort she had being in his company, the feeling of safety she had been missing, even in her own home, once everything had gone so badly between them, was something she didn’t want to lose. The feelings had crept up on her so slowly that she hadn’t really given herself the space to examine them; she had pushed them aside, so consumed was she with the need to fulfill her obligation to Rami, so guilty over the money he had paid, that she hadn’t let herself realize that she felt better, and happier, just being around him than with any man she had ever dated.

  Acting on impulse, before Rami could say anything else, Mia plunged forward. She closed the short distance between them, throwing her arms around Rami, and before she could even question what she was going to do, pressed her lips to his. Rami stood very still, and Mia felt the first stirrings of low dread start up in the pit of her stomach as she realized she might have crossed an unforgiveable line. But then, just when she would have pulled back and run away down the pier, unable to face the disappointment of knowing for certain that Rami didn’t return her feelings, Mia felt his arms coil tightly around her waist, holding her close. He began to kiss her back, and Mia relaxed against him, feeling the firm flesh of his lean body through his clothes, the warmth of him.

  How long they kissed, Mia never knew. She was so content, wrapped up in Rami’s arms, feeling his body pressed to hers, that she thought she could have stayed that way forever. They parted, caught their breath, and before a word could be said they began to kiss again. Mia felt her feelings shift from comfort and relief to desire. Her body tingled all over, heating up as Rami’s hands moved slowly over her curves, in a lingering, loving caress, as they held one another at the end of the pier.

  “I don’t know if I’m going too fast,” Rami said, breaking away from Mia’s lips and panting slightly. “But can we go back to my place? This is a little public.” Mia laughed breathlessly and nodded, more than willing to continue in private. Her knees felt weak as she separated from Rami at her car.

  “I’ll follow you,” Mia said, smiling. Her whole body tingled as she got into her car, anxious and keen to be alone with Rami as soon as humanly possible. Even before she had agreed to be the surrogate mother of Rami’s child, Mia’s sex life had been entirely academic, and since she had wanted to make sure any child she carried would be Rami’s child, it had been easy for Mia to agree to remain celibate while they were trying. But after more than a year with no more physical affection from the opposite sex beyond a hug or a kiss on the cheek, Mia’s body was more than ready to leap at the opportunity Rami had suggested.

  Mia was in such a hurry to get out of her car when they arrived at Rami’s upscale apartment building that she nearly tripped over the curb. Rami was at her side in an instant, catching her by the shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her again before Mia could even fully recover from the near-fall. He pressed her against the side of the car, his arms tight around her, his lips claiming hers so thoroughly that she couldn’t have broken away to speak even if she had wanted to. She could feel the buzzing hum of anticipation crackling through every n
erve, her whole body exquisitely awake, on the edge of completion with all of her clothes still on.

  Rami led her to his private elevator and Mia had to prevent herself tapping her foot in impatience as it made its way silkily through the floors from the garage level to his penthouse apartment. “Oh God,” she muttered, still panting slightly from the heady kiss Rami had given her moments before, “it’s been a really long time for me.” Rami grinned, looking almost wolfish in his delight.

  “Me too,” he said. Mia rolled her eyes.

  “Liar. You’ve been going after models and sycophants this whole time.” Rami shook his head, his dark eyes serious.

 

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