by Holly Rayner
His eyebrows lowered, his face growing serious. “Rosie, I have to tell you. Since I met you, you’ve never been far from my mind. I swear, I’ll be sitting in the throne room, going through some problem with my advisor and chief of staff, and suddenly, I’ll see your face.” He laughed to himself. “I can’t explain it. And for so long, I was sure that my memory of your face was off. I was certain I was remembering a kind of ghost. As the months turned to years, I realized I wasn’t going to hear from you again. And yet, here you are.” He shook his head, awestruck.
Rosie allowed silence to linger between them. Her head was spinning, as she realized that she’d encountered the Sheikh just as he’d been when she first had met him: kind, compassionate, even retaining memories of their time together.
She pressed her tongue against her cheek, frowning. “And how have—how have you been?” she finally muttered.
Hakan smiled, leaning toward her, swirling his wine as he told her about his first two years on the throne, about how it had been difficult to juggle his media work in the United States with his role as constitutional monarch, but that it was rewarding. “I know I’m doing my father proud,” he said, bowing his head. “Maybe that sounds silly. But it really means the world. Especially to my mother.”
Rosie swallowed, recognizing that he still cared so much about his family. None of this was fitting into the image she had constructed of Hakan in the past two years. How could he care so much about his mother and father, yet abandon his son in Seattle?
And then she realized; there was absolutely no way Hakan knew about their son. The old man, Osman, had duped her. For some reason, he had lied to her, hoping to remove her from the royal picture. He must have arranged for money to be sent to her without Hakan’s knowledge, in order to erase her from Hakan’s life. Her head was swirling with this new information, and with the realization that Hakan had been as good as she’d thought.
So she wasn’t a bad judge of character, after all.
After Hakan had spoken a bit longer, about his mother, about getting used to reigning over a nation, she heard him ask her a question, somewhere in the mad swirling of her brain.
She listened closely, feeling dizzy. Why couldn’t she concentrate? Everything was spinning.
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” she asked, shaking her head.
“I asked why you gave up your job at the hospital? It seemed like it was your life’s work, last time we spoke,” Hakan said quietly. His eyes were bright, showing her how intensely he listened. She couldn’t help but see her young son in those eyes: the way he looked at her in the morning when she got him up and ready. God, how she treasured those moments.
Rosie shook her head, not quick enough to think of a better response. “Oh. Um. Actually, I’ve only been working here for about a month. I’m trying to earn some extra cash on the side, actually. I’d never give up nursing.”
Hakan nodded, his eyes filled with understanding.
She continued, stuttering. “I heard you were going to be staying here,” she said. “I made up the room service order as an excuse to come to your suite. I couldn’t help but come see you.” She felt tears welling in her eyes, then. She hoped he didn’t notice. She needed to stay strong.
“And I’m so glad you did,” he murmured. His voice was smooth, as if he was talking to her beneath the covers, back when they’d curled up together in the bed in that very suite. She longed for that day again.
Suddenly, Hakan brought his arms out to her, beckoning to her, and she fell into his embrace. Her eyes filled still further, and she felt her slim body shaking in his arms. She felt like a child with him there, knowing that he was accepting her, there in the room in which they’d shared so much.
“It’s all right,” he whispered.
But it wasn’t! She wanted to scream. He had had a son for the past sixteen months of his life, and he hadn’t known—nobody had told him. She’d been living on her own with Zak, thinking that Hakan hated both of them; that he wanted to forget about them completely. And now, here she was, coiled up in his arms, not brave enough to tell him the truth.
Her cries began to grow louder. She bit her lip, trying to keep them inside, but this just caused her to shake more. She felt the Sheikh’s fingers tighten around her, and she wailed into his ear, lost in her emotions. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Finally, the Sheikh pulled back from her, still clinging to her shoulders. He peered up at her wet eyes, his own dark eyes furrowed with concern.
Rosie continued to cry, the tears rolling full-force down her cheeks. She’d hardly known this man—this king—for a full day in her life, and now she was weeping in his arms. What was wrong with her? Was fate really such a messy thing?
“Please, Rosie,” he whispered, bringing her red hair from her face. “What is it? Why are you crying?”
Rosie cleared her throat. She shook her head left, then right, and then, acting on impulse, dove toward him, linking her lips with his.
Their kiss was immediately passionate, gripping her stomach, making her inner muscles tense. She felt like the world was spinning around them, that he was the only person standing still. Please, she wanted to say to him. Please, keep me safe. He had been out in the world the entire time, this genuine, passionate soul, and she hadn’t been with him. She hadn’t been allowed to see him. She felt both robbed and really, beautifully grateful that she’d had the courage to come see him. All of her thoughts, all of her dreams, her every move had hinged on him being a good person. And now: she finally knew the truth.
And all she had to do, then, was tell him about Zak.
She removed her lips from his and gazed into his gleaming eyes, biting her lip. He brought his hands higher on her waist, cinching it. She wondered if her body felt different to him now that she’d given birth. She hoped he still found it attractive to touch.
“What is it, Rosie?” he urged her again. “Why are you crying?”
“Hakan,” she murmured, trying to choose her words carefully. “Do you remember when we were in this room last? When we made love on the floor, and we woke up in that bed together?”
“It was a beautiful night,” Hakan agreed softly. He kissed her lightly on the mouth, and Rosie’s heart felt like it might burst. “I think about it more than I should.”
“Well. When we woke up that morning, something was very different,” Rosie continued, keeping intense eye contact. “A few weeks later, after you’d gone and been instated on the throne, I discovered I was pregnant. With your child.”
Hakan’s eyes grew still wider. His mouth jolted into a magnificent smile, and he clung her closer to him, hugging her till she nearly screamed. “Tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me more.”
Rosie nodded, loving the way he cradled her. She could stay in his arms forever. “I had your baby nine months later,” she said. “A baby boy. Eight pounds and nine ounces. Gorgeous black hair and eyes, so much like yours. And I named him Zak.” She was nearly breathless, watching as the Sheikh’s face changed from happiness to ecstasy. She slid her thumb over his cheek. “And he’s the most beautiful person in the world.”
Hakan kissed her once more, first lightly, then opening her mouth to his and fueling her with passion, with lust. He broke the kiss, and she saw, for the first time, that he was crying.
“Rosie,” he said. “Rosie, this is the most wonderful news I’ve ever received.”
They kissed again, in the midst of weeping and feeling united after so much time apart. Finally, they separated, both of them weeping, lacking the words to propel the conversation further. Spontaneously, Hakan began to laugh—that familiar, outrageous laugh that grew from his gut. And Rosie wanted to join him. But she slid her fingers over her cheeks, shaking once more.
“Wait. There’s more,” she whispered. “There’s so much more you don’t know.”
Hakan swept her hands from her face, sending her a clear, firm gaze. “Tell me, Rosie. What is it? There’s
no reason not to be completely honest with me, now. Everything must be brought to light.”
But Rosie just quivered before him.
Slowly, Hakan’s face loosened. “You tried to tell me, didn’t you? You wanted to tell me you were pregnant?”
She nodded, her teeth chattering. She worried, suddenly, that Osman was around the corner, watching them. She could almost feel his beady eyes boring into her. She felt like she was in danger.
But Hakan continued. “Who did you contact? Who did you speak with? Come on. Please, tell me.” His voice was coaxing, comforting her. He kneaded at her shoulders, at her back. “You can feel safe here. It’s just us. I promise.”
It was as if he could read her mind.
Rosie cleared her throat, inhaling, exhaling. She centered herself on his lap, her chest leaning against his. “I dialed the number you gave me. And I reached your chief of staff.”
“Osman,” Hakan whispered. “You spoke with Osman.”
She nodded, wiping her tears, feeling foolish.
“I see.” Hakan looked angry. “And he wouldn’t pass the information on to me.”
“It was more than that,” Rosie murmured. “He said that if I told anyone that you were the father of my baby, that it would put you in grave danger. He said your country wouldn’t accept an American, and certainly not a half-American prince.” She sniffed. “He said you would pay me one million dollars a year for me to just go away. To pretend like none of it had ever happened.”
Hakan kissed her gently on the cheek, fully understanding, then, what Rosie had gone through the previous two years. He stuttered, something he so rarely did, as he searched for the right words.
“Osman has been my advisor for nearly twenty years,” he affirmed, finally. “He’s always watched out for me, but at the same time, he doesn’t understand much about me. He can’t. He was raised during a very different time. My country was a very different place back then.”
Hakan bowed his head. “He should never have put you through this. He should never have kept this information from me. And I will deal with that the very best I can. But I also know…” He paused, bringing Rosie’s bright red strands behind her ear. “I know that Osman meant well for me, although he betrayed me in the end. He wanted to keep me safe. And now—now, Rosie, I want to keep you and baby Zak safe. More than anything in the world.”
Rosie sniffed softly, taking in the information slowly, nodding along. Osman. That evil Osman. He had tried to destroy her, but now she was back.
She had found the man of her dreams. Fate had brought them together before they were so cruelly dragged apart—and she had used her wit and know-how to put the pieces of the puzzle back together again. She hadn’t been content with the course of things, so she had pointed her finger at what she wanted, and demanded that the universe listen. And it had.
Rosie leaned her head back, looking at the high ceiling of the presidential suite. Hakan leaned in and kissed her neck, then her chin, before meeting her lips once more. Their body heat elevated, and they began toying with each other’s buttons, with each other’s clothes, finding solace in each other’s bodies, the way they had two years ago. They’d both been lonely for far too long. And now, in each other, they could find release. They could find home.
SIXTEEN
Two Months Later
Rosie, her mother, and baby Zak sat in the back of a sleek limousine as it rushed them from Zaymari International Airport. It had been a long plane ride, but Zak had been surprisingly calm—only crying a bit, his face like a tomato, when the air pressure had changed. Rosie had cradled him in her lap the entire way, surprised by how much he’d grown in the past two months. When his father had first met him, at sixteen months old, he’d weighed a few pounds less. Now, even more black hair had swamped over his head, and he was starting to learn more words. Soon, she knew, he would learn to say “Daddy.” She could hardly wait.
“How long is the ride?” Clarice asked, her eyes wide with nervous anticipation. She’d never left the United States before. When Rosie had convinced her to come to Zaymari and live at the palace with them, her only family, she’d been imagining a terrible place. But it was clear, from just a peek out the window, that the tropical landscape, the bright, turquoise water, was more like heaven on Earth.
“It’s not far, Mom,” Rosie whispered reassuringly.
As they neared the palace, people began to notice the limousine, jumping up and down with “Welcome” signs. Rosie knew, all at once, that she would fall for Zaymari, and its people, in an instant.
Hakan had met his son the same night he’d cut the ribbon on his new television station. He’d rushed directly from the ceremony at the Edgewater, not caring to stop at a single after party or business meeting, and arrived on Rosie’s steps in Capitol Hill. Tears still lingered in his eyes from their triumphant reunion earlier that evening. She’d held baby Zak on her hips, and he’d wrapped his strong arms around both of them, wordlessly, as he had in her constant daydreams. He’d stayed the night with them that night, and the following three, never wanting to move from their sight.
She smiled to herself as she remembered the first time she’d watched Hakan and Zak playing on the floor together. Hakan had held the toddler on his stomach, his back flat on the floor, and thrown him high into the air. The baby’s squeals of joy had radiated through her. She hadn’t stopped smiling for days.
And yet, they couldn’t put reality off forever; Hakan had had to return to his home country, and Rosie had had to return to work. Immediately, they had started making plans, figuring out exactly what they were going to do about their family.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hakan had whispered to her on their last night together in Seattle. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Rosie had worked a few weeks more at the hospital before ultimately quitting her job. Amy had warned her several times that she was making a big mistake, but Rosie knew in her soul that this wasn’t correct. In the break room one day, she’d placed her hand over her best friend’s fingers and squeezed them, telling her she was going to be all right this time; that she didn’t need to be watched over anymore. And Amy had wept.
Just two weeks before Rosie was scheduled to move to Zaymari, Amy had gone into labor, and Rosie had rushed back to the hospital after her shift, eager to help her friend deliver. She’d seen Josh in the hallway, looking pale and angular. She’d marched up to him, jabbing her finger into his chest, and said the words: “If you don’t sell that stupid condo and return to your wife, I will destroy you.” And then, she’d rushed past him, back to her screaming, sweating friend.
Later, she’d learned that Josh had done just that. He, Marco, Amy, and their new baby, Mackenzie, had settled back into suburban life, with promises that they would come visit Zaymari as soon as Mackenzie was old enough to fly.
In her heart, Rosie already missed them. But she knew she had made the right decision, joining her family in the Middle East. It was the greatest adventure of her life.
The limousine swept up in front of the palace, before halting. Rosie couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d seen photos of the palace before, online, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw before her.
The palace was huge and ancient, with many circular roofs, all staggered in height. Bright blue tiles flooded the façade, and gigantic columns out front created a massive entryway—one, Clarice said, that was fit for a queen. Rosie knew her mother was referring to her in that moment.
The limo driver leaped from his seat in the front and rushed to open the door. As they prepared Zak to leave the car, Rosie saw Hakan rushing down the steps toward them, dressed in one of his many perfectly-tailored suits. His smile crept across his face. God, her heart broke just looking at him.
He reached them just in time, bringing his face down toward Rosie’s and kissing her warmly, before wrapping his arms around his son and swinging him in the air. A crowd had formed outside the palace in the wake of the limousine, and,
as the baby flew up, they fell into great, resounding applause.
Used to the attention, Hakan turned toward them with Zak, who was dressed in a Baby Gap sweater, and flashed them that signature smile. In that moment, Rosie understood that the public loved him just as much as she did. He was their strong, confident leader. And they would go wherever he took them.
Hakan wrapped his free arm around Rosie, then, and the crowd went insane—leaping up and down, waving their signs.
“So, I take it word got out about Zak and I?” Rosie asked, laughing. She could hardly hear her own voice above the roar.
“Well,” Hakan murmured. “I’m certainly not as big of a celebrity around here as you are.” He leaned in to her and kissed her cheek, and the crowd continued to blare, clearly obsessed with the love the Sheikh had for his new girlfriend.