SECRETS OF A PREGNANT PRINCESS

by Carla Cassidy

Sheik Ahmed raked a hand across his lower jaw, obviously assessing everything that Samira had just told him. "You should have told me all these things this morning."

  "I know," she agreed. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. "I am ashamed to admit that I was afraid to tell the truth."

  "And I had made her promise not to tell you all this until we both agreed the time was right," Farid said.

  "Ahmed, you have something to say to Farid," Alima said pointedly.

  "Yes, yes." He stood. "I owe you an apology, Farid."

  "No apology is necessary," Farid replied. "You reacted to what you knew and you didn't know the whole truth. I would do whatever it takes to protect your family. It's in my blood to do so."

  Sheik Ahmed gazed at him for a long moment. "It is in your blood to do so," he repeated. "An interesting choice of words. A dear, trusted friend of mine many times used that same phrase. His name was Haroun Dharr. Did you know him?"

  Samira looked at Farid curiously. Haroun Dharr had been a good friend of her father's. Surely Farid didn't know the nobleman?

  Farid hesitated, then nodded. "Haroun Dharr was my father."

  "Why did I not know of this?" Sheik Ahmed asked as Samira looked at Farid in surprise.

  "I only learned that he was my father a year ago, just before my mother passed away," Farid explained.

  "Then why did Haroun not tell me about you? He knew you worked for the palace."

  "He didn't know of my existence until a year ago, and then I specifically asked him not to tell you. I wanted my merits to be based on performance, not on my blood ties to a man who was your friend," Farid said.

  Pride swept through Samira. How she loved this strong, proud man who was her husband. It didn't surprise her that he'd wanted no special treatment due to her father's friendship with his father.

  Sheik Ahmed sat once again. "And he was a dear friend. His passing has left a hole in my life."

  "And in mine," Farid replied. "He told me how you saved his life when you were both young soldiers, and that he had vowed to you his loyalty and service for the rest of his life. He asked me to continue to carry out that vow and so I have pledged my life to you as my father did before me."

  "It is enough that you have bound yourself to my wayward daughter," Sheik Ahmed exclaimed, but his gaze was filled with abiding affection as it lingered on Samira. "I will assign a new bodyguard, for it is not right for your husband to fulfill that position."

  Happiness swelled inside her as she realized her father had just accepted the man she loved as her husband. There would be no more talk of banishment or dishonor.

  He looked at Farid once again. "We will talk later about a new position for you besides the one you now serve as my son-in-law. I welcome you into the family, Farid Nasir. My daughter has made a good choice for a husband. We will talk more soon, once I have finished the business I have to attend to."

  Samira and Farid left the grand chamber. The moment they were out in the hallway, Samira took his hand in hers.

  "Would you walk with me in the garden?" she asked. The happiness she'd felt only moments before had been fleeting, for now other thoughts were intruding into her head. Painful thoughts that she needed to sort out.

  "Of course," he agreed.

  She gestured toward a nearby doorway that led out into a small garden. They stepped out of the doors and into the morning sunshine. The air was rife with floral scents and the murmur of a water fountain broke the silence.

  Instantly Samira was reminded of the garden in Montebello where she and Farid had first shared a real, heart-stopping kiss. "You're right," she said. "The gardens here in Tamir are much prettier than the ones in Montebello."

  He smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes and she knew he was probably thinking about how close he'd come to being arrested and taken back to Montebello. "I'm just glad I'm not on my way to Montebello now."

  She returned his smile. "Me, too."

  They walked a few moments in silence, then she drew him toward a concrete bench near the fountain. "Let's sit for a moment."

  "All right," he agreed.

  They sat side by side on the bench and Samira fought the impulse to lean against him. "This has been the craziest day of my life," she finally said.

  "I think we can agree on that." He stretched his legs out before him and she saw the tension lines that had tightened his features slowly fade away.

  "I can't believe the news about Desmond," she said.

  "Nor can I," he agreed. "But if he treated other people as he treated you, then who knows who might have wanted him dead."

  She sighed. "I didn't want Desmond to be a part of my baby's life, but this isn't the way I wanted to get my wish."

  "I know." He reached for her hand as if to offer her some comfort.

  Again love for him swelled up inside her, a love that was complicated by other emotions as well. She tried to keep her thoughts focused on their conversation. "I wonder if his murder had anything to do with the woman he was seeing." She frowned thoughtfully. "I wish I could have given the inspectors more information about her."

  "Put it out of your mind, Samira. You did the best you could. Leave the murder investigation to the authorities."

  "Thank goodness you didn't have to return to Montebello and try to prove your innocence there." This time she gave his hand a small squeeze.

  He nodded. "I never again in my life want to feel the bite of handcuffs around my wrists."

  "I hope you aren't angry with me," she said.

  He looked at her in obvious surprise. "Why would I be angry with you?"

  "For breaking my promise."

  "When a promise to keep a secret causes pain, then it is time to break the promise." He released her hand and instead raked it through his hair, a frown appearing in his forehead.

  "Before you got to the farmhouse today an old friend of the family stopped by to see me. I asked him why my mother had never told me about my real father and he told me my mother had promised Hashim not to tell me."

  Samira watched the play of emotions that swept across his face as he spoke of his past. Again her love for him welled up inside her.

  "Would my life have been different had my mother broken that promise upon Hashim's death? In truth I don't know, but somehow there is nothing but acceptance in my heart where my mother and her decisions are concerned." The smile he gave her warmed her. "You were right. My mother's only motivation was love."

  "I'm glad, Farid, glad you have found peace."

  He looked at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You were very brave in there, to tell your father the truth and risk having his wrath directed at you. It would seem my gentle, sweet-natured wife has gained some strength."

  "Only when it comes to things and people I desperately care about," she replied. A wave of despair swept through her as she realized what she was about to do – what she had to do.

  "Telling my father was the right thing to do." She looked down at her hands in her lap, her heart aching with the words she knew she was about to speak. "Why did you make me promise not to tell my father the truth, when the truth would clear your name and honor in my father's eyes?" she asked.

  "I know your father's reputation for having a rather volatile temper. I knew that it would be easier on you if his ire was directed at me. And I wished to protect the newfound peace between Tamir and Montebello."

  Samira nodded, then raised her face to the sun, wishing the warmth would banish the chill that filled her up. He'd been willing to sacrifice his honor, his reputation, his livelihood to protect her and his country.

  Again her tremendous love for him filled every pore of her body. He would continue to sacrifice himself for her. For as long as she wanted him as her husband, she knew he would remain by her side.

  But was it right for her to keep him by her side? Was it right to bind him to her with his sense of duty? Was it right for her to think only of her happiness and not of his? Would he not eventually gr
ow to resent her?

  "What's wrong, Samira?"

  She looked at him once again, vaguely surprised that he could read her so well. "Farid, I know that you married me because you felt it was your duty. I know that you were trying to protect me, but now there is nothing to protect me from."

  She drew a deep breath, willing away the tears that burned hot at her eyes. "I just want you to know, Farid, that I appreciate everything you have done for me and my baby. I will forever be grateful to you. You are a wonderful man and I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, but if you wish, I will release you from our marriage."

  * * *

  Her words shocked him. The last thing he'd expected from her was the offer of his freedom from their marriage. His heart suddenly pounded in a rhythm that sent dread coursing through him.

  "Is that what you wish?" he asked, the words coming from him with difficulty.

  She didn't reply, nor did she look at him. Her gaze remained focused on her hands in her lap, making it impossible for him to see her eyes.

  "Samira … is that what you wish? An end to our marriage?" He reached out and took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up so she had to look at him. Her eyes were awash with tears.

  "No," she said, the word a mere whisper. "But I love you too much to hold on to you if you don't want to be with me."

  "You love me?"

  She nodded, looking as if the whole thing made her miserable. "It was my love for you that made me brave enough to face my father, Farid. I love you in a way I'd only dreamed of loving before."

  Farid had believed that she couldn't have said anything more that would surprise him. He'd been wrong. She loved him. He couldn't doubt the love that shone from her eyes, couldn't forget how strong she had been on his behalf.

  For the first time, Farid had to examine his feelings where she was concerned. He thought of those moments alone in his house when his heart had been burdened by bereavement … not for his parents, but rather for the marriage he feared would end.

  Her words of love not only surprised him, but filled him up with warmth and made him realize what was in his own heart. Love.

  He took her hands in his and gazed into her sweet brown eyes. "You asked me once if I'd ever been in love and I told you that I didn't believe in the valentine-and-flowers kind of love you were talking about. How could I believe in something I'd never experienced before?"

  She nodded and started to pull her hands from his, but he held tight, refusing to relinquish his hold. "When your father first assigned me to be your personal bodyguard, I was glad he'd assigned me to you. You were gentle and kind and never gave anyone any problems, and I thought that's why I was happy about the assignment, because you'd be easy."

  A small burst of laughter escaped her. "Little did you know," she said dryly.

  He squeezed her hands. "Now, looking back, I realize I was glad I was assigned to you because I liked your smile and the sound of your laughter. Because I had watched you from the time I first began working at the palace, when I was nineteen and you were only sixteen. I was glad that I was assigned to you because I wanted to be around you and spend time in your presence."

  Her tears had dried and there was a look of wonder in her beautiful eyes, and in that wonder the full force of Farid's feelings for her opened up completely in his heart.

  "When I got to my house today, I was fairly certain that it was the beginning of the end of our marriage. I found myself wondering how my life was going to be without the sound of your laughter in it, how I was going to survive the nights without you in my arms."

  "Farid?" There was a question in her voice.

  "Samira, somehow in the last two weeks, you've taken my heart and turned it into a valentine. You've taken my life and transformed it into a garden of flowers. You've made me believe in love, because I am helplessly, hopelessly in love with you."

  He stood and pulled her up into his arms, loving the way she fit so neatly against him. As if they were two halves and were only truly complete when together.

  "I love you, Samira, and I want our marriage to last through eternity. I want to be the father to the child you carry and father a dozen more with you."

  "Oh, Farid. I love you so…"

  He cut off anything else she might be going to say by claiming her lips with his, the kiss filled with all the passion, all the tenderness and all the love he possessed inside him.

  He tasted the same depth of emotions in her lips and he reveled in them. When the kiss finally ended her eyes shone bright and he knew this was the woman he wanted to wake up with every morning, the woman he wanted in his arms each night when he fell asleep.

  He smiled at her. "I love you, Samira Nasir. You're my princess … my love … my life."

  "And I love you, Farid Nasir," the warmth of her eyes spoke the words as eloquently as her lips. "You are my love and my life."

  Once again they shared a kiss that spoke not only of devotion and commitment, but of a future filled with joy and happiness, and the valentines-and-flowers kind of love.

  * * * *