The Sheikh's Bride of Convenience (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 15)

by Cara Albany

  Then, shockingly, she'd blurted out those words. Almost as if she'd rehearsed them, he told himself.

  At first, he'd been taken aback. The realization that she intended to leave had taken a few long moments to sink in.

  At first he hadn't wanted to admit the truth to himself. He'd tried to reason with himself that he'd misunderstood her. That perhaps she didn't mean what she'd said. That maybe this was all some elaborate game Grace was playing with him.

  He already knew how much she liked to toy with him, tease him with her wicked sense of humor.

  But this time had been different.

  At first, when she'd leapt from the bed and pulled on her clothes, all he'd been able to do was observe the beautiful sight of Grace carefully dressing herself. The instincts of his body had taken over, and he'd simply watched her.

  There had been a disbelieving voice in his head, telling him that there would be some simple explanation for all of this.

  He knew the explanation, now.

  The memory of their love-making, earlier that evening, still quivered through every nerve in his body. He felt the coolness of the air on his naked body.

  He sighed heavily and went to the bedroom and threw on a robe from his walk-in closet. He glanced at the clock by the bedside. Four o'clock. The morning sun would be rising soon.

  Barefoot, he padded back into the living area. There was still a glass of champagne on the table by the sofa. He took it, and went out onto the balcony, sensing that he needed to clear his head.

  He thought about Grace as he sipped the champagne. He knew his driver had been instructed to be on call for the entire evening, no matter how late.

  As on so many other occasions.

  Grace would find him waiting for her downstairs in front of the building, the limo ready. She was already familiar with the arrangement. She'd used it often enough, recently.

  The driver would take Grace straight back to her apartment on the other side of the city. At least she'd be safe, Qazim told himself.

  That was something. She'd be safe, even if she believed she no longer belonged with Qazim.

  In any case, Qazhar city was as safe as any in the region. Crime was virtually non-existent.

  Qazim gazed through the glass panel and out, beyond the cityscape, toward the distant desert horizon. There was already a hint of sunrise, a tinge of orange in the darkness. From this high up, Qazim could survey the kingdom.

  His kingdom.

  The place he belonged.

  The place where Grace belonged.

  He ran his gaze across the expanse below him. Sometimes he felt as if the whole thing belonged to him. He knew that was an arrogant thought and he felt foolish every time he played with it. As a child he'd wanted everything, wanted to own everything, possess everything. That desire had only partly been tempered by adulthood.

  His brothers had warned Qazim against such hubris. Zaheer and Riaz both had found their own happiness. Had both been humbled by beautiful women. At least that was how Qazim saw it.

  Would Qazim be denied his own happiness? Was it fair that he couldn't possess what he wanted.

  And what was that?

  The answer was simple. He didn't want any else except her.

  Grace.

  After the way she'd stormed out on him, it seemed he was going to be frustrated.

  Why had she done that? He knew the answer, even if it was unpalatable. Inexplicable.

  Grace had told him straight.

  It was all moving too fast; there was no future in the relationship.

  Qazim had been too much for her. Too possessive. Too demanding.

  So, she had ran.

  Were the last few weeks about to become merely another pointless, if enjoyable, casual encounter?

  Qazim shook his head in the darkness. He knew that wasn't true. At least, not as far as he was concerned.

  Whether she admitted it or not, Grace had found a place in Qazim's heart. Maybe that had scared her. He'd seen panic in her eyes as she'd ran out. Sheer, blind panic.

  Qazim took a sip of his drink and tried not to admit that he'd hurt her in some way. If that was the case, he wasn't sure how he'd deal with that.

  Had he done something he should regret? He thought about the last few weeks. As far as he was concerned, all he had done had been to try and treat Grace as well as possible, and try to make her feel as much pleasure as possible.

  Had he misjudged everything? Had he been blinded by his own arrogant assumptions?

  Grace wasn't the first woman in his life, but she was the first to have wilfully denied Qazim. The first to cast him aside.

  Every other woman he'd known had done the exact opposite. They'd clung to him, seeking to hold onto everything he had to offer.

  But that hadn't been Grace's way. Even when he'd been seducing her, trying to win her over, she'd proven resistant, often reluctant.

  And that had made the pursuit of Grace even more enjoyable. A challenge he hadn't been able to refuse.

  And now she had walked out on him.

  For the moment.

  He'd forced himself not to react as she'd left. It had been difficult. Because he had no intention of letting her go. There was nothing permanent in her departure, he reassured himself. She and her coworkers were still scheduled to remain in Qazhar for at least another two months as they worked on the hotel project for Qazim.

  Grace wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon, he told himself.

  And that was good.

  Some of the tension began to ease out of him as he considered what he had to do over the next few weeks. There would be time to undo all of this, he told himself.

  She'd awakened something primal in Qazim, something he treasured, something he wasn't prepared to lose.

  There would be plenty of time for Qazim to do what he had to do.

  In the darkness he allowed himself a slight smile.

  She might think she'd gotten away from him. But she hadn't.

  Before she went back to the States, Grace would be back in his life.

  Forever.

  ****

  Grace sat back against the leather seat inside Qazim's limo. She sighed and gazed out at the almost deserted streets, the darkened buildings.

  Finally. She'd done it. She was free.

  She knew she should have felt relief. Knew she should be looking forward to the future, now that the craziness of the last two months was finally over.

  So, how come she felt the exact opposite? How come, right now, sitting here alone, being taken back to her apartment, she felt as if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life?

  Even as she'd stepped out of the elevator, she'd considered going to the man at reception and asking him to call up to Qazim's apartment. Say that all of this had been some terrible misunderstanding. That she hadn't really meant what she'd said.

  As she'd leaned against the walls of the elevator, Grace had been torn by doubt. Surprising doubt. Emotions had ripped her apart, and she'd started to think she'd made a mistake. Of course, she couldn't just walk out on him like that, she'd told herself. Surely he didn't deserve that.

  The way he'd looked at her as the doors had closed had made something hard pull at her heart.

  The impulse to undo all this was almost impossible to ignore.

  But she had resisted the impulse and walked straight out of the building and into the waiting limo.

  Grace let her mind settle into blankness for a while. She watched the streets, empty of cars at this time in the morning. For a long time, her mind was thankfully empty. Then she recognized the area where she lived.

  She'd be home soon.

  And then what?

  Her work would carry on. She was scheduled to remain in Qazhar at least another couple of months. It wasn't going to be easy being around Qazim after dumping him like that.

  Because that was what she'd just done.

  She hadn't even considered the possibility that Qazim might be so angered by her actions th
at he would seek some kind of professional retribution, try to punish Grace somehow for doing what she'd done.

  Grace sighed and shook her head in the darkness of the back of the limo. Qazim wasn't that kind of person, she told herself. She knew that fact, deep down. They'd forged a connection that was deep, one that had given Grace a glimpse into the man's soul, his inner being. And she knew that Qazim didn't have a cruel bone in his body.

  No. He wouldn't do anything do make her remaining time in Qazhar any more difficult than it needed to be.

  Grace would just have to do her best to maintain her composure whenever she was around Qazim. There was work to be done, and Grace considered herself nothing if not professional.

  That thought made her smile to herself. There had been nothing professional about sleeping with your company's most important client, she told herself.

  Nothing at all.

  It was just about the most unprofessional thing she could ever have done. But it had been impossible to resist.

  He had been impossible to resist.

  Grace thought about the love-making of only hours before. Emotion caught in her chest and she felt her pulse quicken at the memory of the way Qazim had made love to her. She could still feel the remnants of her own ecstasy in every nerve in her body.

  Qazim had been as expert as ever. However, this time there had been something new, an urgency about the way he had driven her to the peak of pleasure. There had been a hunger about Qazim's passion which had swept Grace along, sending her tumbling even deeper into his world, drawing her further into Qazim's existence. It was as if he'd wanted to create a permanent bond between them.

  That single, shocking and terrifying realization had seized her at one point when he had wrapped her in his arms, enclosing her with his heat and his sheer, unstoppable power.

  For a moment, just before climax, Grace had felt the delicious sensation of being one with Qazim, being completely connected to him, as if they were forging a new life by what they were sharing.

  And that had been the final trigger for Grace. That feeling of losing herself in him, of losing everything she'd worked so hard to build for herself these past few years.

  Qazim's irresistible, forceful desire for Grace had simply sent her running.

  The limo started to slow. They had arrived back at Grace's apartment block.

  She wondered how tomorrow's meeting would go. It had been arranged for the afternoon, so she was relieved she might get a chance to get some sleep. She needed to rest, needed to think about what she'd just done.

  There was one good thing about seeing Qazim so soon after their breakup. She'd get to establish the new rules and she'd see just how he intended to handle everything in the harsh light of day.

  Grace thanked the driver and stepped out of the limo. She made her way up to her apartment and undressed quickly. Her body still felt tender, her muscles tense. She took a quick shower.

  It occurred to her that she might be trying to wash away the scent of Qazim, that she might be trying to cleanse the memory of him out of her body.

  She stood beneath the torrent of warm water and closed her eyes. All she could see, all she could feel was Qazim. His touch, the way he had looked at her, the feel of him inside her.

  She groaned at the memories and stepped out of the shower and dried herself quickly. She lay down on her bed, feeling the harshness of being alone.

  It was such a contrast to earlier, back in Qazim's apartment. There, she had lain in his arms, briefly forgetting what she had intended to do. There, she had allowed herself one last experience of lying with the incredible sheikh who had taken her to the limits of her pleasure.

  And now it was all over.

  All she had to do was see out the remainder of her time in Qazhar. Then she would get back the States and life would go on.

  It all seemed so simple.

  It had been what she'd wanted.

  Hadn't it?

  She told herself that it had been for the best. That it had been inevitable. That she had done the right thing. At least she would always have the memories of her time with Qazim. Even if she would be left with nothing more than that. It had been just physical passion and there would be no consequences.

  So, how come, as she turned onto her side, she told herself that she had probably just acted like a complete and utter fool.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EIGHT WEEKS LATER

  "Miss Collins, the doctor will see you now."

  Grace looked up at the nurse and nodded. She felt nervous, but was determined to hide her unease. It merely added to the mild nausea she'd been feeling the last few days.

  She stood and followed the nurse down the corridor. Grace was returning to the Medical Center, as instructed by the doctor, this morning for her results. She'd come the day before because she hadn't felt well. She had a flight to catch tomorrow, and she needed to be sure she was fit to fly.

  But there was more to this visit than just simply preparing for her return to the States. The vague thought which had been tormenting Grace these last few days, tugged insistently at her again. She pushed it away, just as she had done so many times these past forty-eight hours since the sickness had started.

  The way the doctor had looked at Grace yesterday when she had come to the Center hadn't calmed Grace's nerves one bit. Grace was sure the doctor had already guessed the reason for Grace's symptoms.

  And so had Grace.

  Every time she thought about that,, her heart sank a little.

  Surely that couldn't be true, she told herself for the one hundredth time that day. If her suspicions were about to be confirmed, then things were about to get very complicated. Her footsteps echoed down the long white corridor.

  The last eight weeks had passed in a frenzy of meetings and, as Grace had predicted, none of it had been easy. That first afternoon meeting after storming out on Qazim had been awkward, but Grace had kept her cool.

  And so had Qazim, slightly to Grace's surprise.

  Qazim's attitude during the first meeting after their breakup had been similar to his stoic reaction as she'd walked out of his apartment. It had almost seemed like indifference. Even arrogance, Grace had told herself. As if he was holding something back.

  At one point Grace had thought Qazim had been playing some kind of elaborate game with her. Maybe women storming out of Qazim's life was entirely normal, she'd told herself. Perhaps this was something he was completely used to.

  The other members of Grace's team had been blissfully unaware of the tension in the room on the afternoon of that first meeting. After the meeting had concluded, Qazim hadn't even come to Grace and tried to talk to her. There had been no attempt at reasoning with her. Instead, he had politely thanked Grace and her team for coming to his office, and left without so much as a glance at Grace.

  Had she completely misjudged him? Was he really just another arrogant man?

  If she had been looking for some kind of wild passionate reaction from Qazim, then Grace had been disappointed. More than once, the thought had occurred to Grace that Qazim had already moved on from their relationship.

  She'd played with the notion that he might have already found someone else.

  If that was what he wanted, then fine, she'd told herself.

  That realization had almost triggered indignation, an irrational desire to demand an explanation, in spite of all her efforts at self-control. In spite of the fact that she'd given up the right to such an explanation by the simple act of leaving him.

  Eventually, though, she'd been almost relieved. For both of them. It was over between them, and it looked as if they were both going to carry on as if nothing had ever happened.

  Well, that was a lie, Grace thought to herself. Something had definitely happened and she might well be about to find out the consequences of their last time together.

  Over the next eight weeks, there had been weekly meetings. Every encounter with Qazim had been like that first post-breakup meeting.
r />   Polite. Courteous. Impersonal.

  Eventually, Grace had come to terms with Qazim's attitude, the choice he'd made. It had been her own choice as well, she reminded herself, so she had no right to feel even the slightest indignation.

  And now, it was time for her to leave.

  Time to go home. Back to where she belonged.

  The prospect of going home filled Grace with anticipation. She'd thought she'd be able to start putting everything behind her.

  All the madness. All the promise.

  But there was a problem. Something she hadn't anticipated.

  One final test.

  Her heart was pounding as she entered the doctor's consulting room. The female doctor shook Grace's hand and gestured to the seat in front of her desk.

  The doctor smiled at Grace. "I believe we know what has been causing your problem," she said matter-of-factly, coming straight to the point.

  Grace felt something tighten in her chest. "Really?"

  The doctor eyes brightened. Grace groaned inwardly. Didn't the doctor realize this wasn't going to be good news for Grace?

  "Miss Collins. You are expecting a baby," the doctor announced.

  Everything seemed to slow for a moment. Grace felt herself momentarily unsteady. She gripped onto the side of the chair, feeling the cold metal against her tight grasp. Grace felt her heart begin to race, sensed a pounding in her ears.

  Grace was struck dumb and she felt the color drain from her features. Suddenly everything seemed utterly unreal. This couldn't be happening.

  The doctor looked concerned. She peered at Grace. "Did you understand what I said, Miss Collins?" the doctor asked calmly.

  Grace forced herself to nod. "Yes, doctor. I understand." Grace thought her voice sounded strangely weak, almost unlike herself. She could feel almost every muscle in her body begin to quiver involuntarily. The doctor leaned forward, elbows on the table.

  "Would you like a glass of water?" the doctor said standing up and coming around the table.

  Grace shook her head and looked up at the kindly, concerned features of the doctor. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

  The doctor disregarded Grace's response and went to a small table and poured water into a small, plastic cup. She handed it to Grace.