Carrying the Sheikh's Heir

by Lynn Raye Harris

  She didn’t dare reach out to him. Long minutes passed in which she worried and wondered and thought of what she would say if he withdrew again. And then she thought maybe she should just get up and go. Take the decision away from him. Show him she didn’t care about his rejection.

  Sheridan pushed herself upright and swung her legs off the bed. She fumbled for her clothes in the dark, her eyes stinging, as Rashid didn’t say a word. He didn’t care if she left. After everything he’d said, he didn’t even care.

  But then he was there, his hand smoothing over the curve of her back, her buttock, and she stopped what she was doing as her skin reacted with the same predictable flare of heat as always. Oh, it wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

  “Don’t go,” he said. And then he pulled her down, into his arms, and she was lost all over again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HE’D BEEN RIGHT about her, Rashid thought. She was a people pleaser. Sheridan was the kind of bright, sunny sort of person that he was not and never had been. She was light to his dark, sweet to his sour, sunshine to his ice. She made people happy. She spoke with everyone she met as if she was genuinely interested in them. She had to have a translator, but she was beginning to learn a few words and when she tried them out, no matter how badly she mangled them, even the council smiled indulgently.

  He did not fool himself that would last, however. The council would eventually begin to demand he take a second wife. He’d told them he would, but he was in no hurry to do so.

  Besides, when would he have time for another woman? He was busy enough with Sheridan. Not that she demanded his time, but he often found himself giving it. He went looking for her during the day, found her with her secretary or in the kitchen. Occasionally, he found her in the stables with the puppies.

  He looked down at the basket that Mostafa had placed silently beside his desk and took a moment to wonder at himself. Was he going soft?

  Soon there was a knock on his door, and Sheridan breezed into the room. She was wearing cream trousers and a red shirt today, and her hair tumbled in blond curls over her shoulders. She was fresh and pretty and glowing.

  He glanced at her belly worriedly, but then he told himself it was silly. She wasn’t even showing yet. There was nothing to worry about.

  “You wanted to see me?” she said.

  He stood and went to her side. “I did.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. And then he had to tell himself it was the middle of the day and he had appointments in a few minutes. But he was already hard. It surprised him how quickly she got to him.

  As if she knew what kind of internal battle he was having, she slid her arms around him and brought her body against his.

  “You smell good, Rashid.”

  “Stop flirting with me.” He tried to sound stern but she only laughed. And then she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down. He thought she was going to kiss him on the mouth, but she turned her head at the last moment and landed a kiss on his jaw. Then she laughed and pulled out of his arms.

  He snatched her back and kissed her properly until she clung to him, until her body went soft and her tongue glided against his and she sighed.

  He considered taking her on the desk when there was a noise. A whimper. Sheridan pushed him away and stood with her eyes wide. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “That...that sound. Like a puppy—” And then her breath caught and her eyes brightened and Rashid reached for the basket. He opened the lid and a pale golden puppy sat there, blinking and yawning.

  When it saw Sheridan, the little tail thumped. Sheridan squealed as she reached into the basket and took the puppy out. “Oh, sweet baby, what are you doing in the big, bad king’s office? Are you hiding?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes shining, and he couldn’t remember why he wasn’t supposed to feel a flood of warmth at that look. Why it was dangerous to do so.

  “The puppies are old enough to go to permanent homes now. I thought you might like one of your own. Daoud said this one was your favorite.”

  “Oh, Rashid.” She bent her head and put her face in the dog’s fur. “Yes,” she said softly. “He’s a precious little guy.”

  Rashid was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, but in a “what the hell do I do now” way. Why hadn’t he just sent Daoud to her room with the puppy? Except that she wasn’t staying in her room lately, was she?

  No, she’d been in his every night for the past two weeks. He liked having her there. He thought back to that very first night when he’d found her on his terrace and made love to her. And then he’d jumped out of bed like he’d been singed and escorted her back to her room. He’d followed it up by doing the same thing the next time he’d lost control with her, and she’d thought that meant he didn’t want to be touched.

  Nothing was further from the truth. He loved when she touched him, loved the tenderness in her fingers, the sweetness in her tongue, the wickedness in her mouth when she took him between her lips. He was beginning to crave her touch.

  She beamed at him, her sweet face lighting up with joy. His heart, that organ that was supposed to be encased in ice, kicked. He reached down deep, searching for the ice, jerked it back into place like a blanket.

  He could smile, he could be warm and make love, but he could not let his heart be touched. That was the last battleground and the one he would not allow to be breached.

  Rashid reached out and stroked the dog’s head. “It will be good for the baby to grow up with a dog.”

  Her smile didn’t waver. “It will be good for me, too. Thank you.”

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss him and then she wandered over to the seating area and set the dog on the floor. The little guy scampered around happily, and Rashid hoped he didn’t pee on the rug.

  “Are you prepared for the trip?” he asked. They were traveling out into the desert so that he could fulfill his duties to meet with some of the nomadic tribes that still ranged the vast Kyrian Desert. It was mostly ceremonial, but necessary. And while he could leave Sheridan behind for the week or so he would be gone, he wanted her to see the desert as he saw it. The beauty, the majesty, the overwhelming might of all that sand and sun. He wanted his child to feel it inside the womb, to become one with the land, the same as he was.

  “I think so. My secretary has been telling me what to expect and what to take.”

  “How is Layla working out for you?”

  He’d sent her a woman who’d trained in European universities and who had a fresh, open manner. Not that he supposed Sheridan would have had any trouble if Layla had been dour, considering how she’d wound Daoud around her finger. If Daoud didn’t have a fiancée he adored, Rashid might be jealous.

  “I like her. She never makes me feel stupid for not knowing what I’m supposed to do.”

  Layla had been teaching her protocol and schooling her on Kyrian history in preparation for their upcoming public wedding. Rashid had pushed that out as far as he could, simply because he hadn’t wanted to deal with a long day of ceremony and pomp, but the day would arrive soon enough and they’d have to give the Kyrian people something to celebrate.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  She frowned a little then. “I asked Annie and Chris if they would come for the formal wedding, but I don’t think Annie wants to come.”

  “I’m sorry, Sheridan.” He was predisposed to dislike her sister simply because the other woman seemed not to care how her actions hurt Sheridan, but he knew that it wasn’t quite as simple as that. Annie was shy and frightened of new situations. He understood that now, but it didn’t mean he liked the way it affected Sheridan.

  “I knew it was a long shot. All the pomp and noise, the dignitaries, the heat and strangeness of a place she’s never been. It would be too much for her.”

 
He didn’t point out that apparently the strangeness of Switzerland, where Annie would have her experimental treatment to try to give her a chance to conceive, didn’t seem to bother her.

  “We will bring them here another time, then. I will make it happen, I assure you.”

  She laughed. “Please tell me you’re not going to kidnap my sister and her husband, Rashid. If you keep snatching people from the States, eventually you’ll be caught, and then there’ll be an international incident.”

  He came and sat down beside her while the puppy yipped and tried to chase his tail. “I won’t kidnap them.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  He tugged her onto his lap because he couldn’t quite control himself.

  “But I’m not sorry I kidnapped you,” he told her, pushing her blond hair back behind her ears and watching the way her eyes darkened with passion as he ghosted a thumb over one budding nipple.

  Her voice was a purr. “I thought you had appointments?”

  “I’m the king. I can reschedule if I want to.” He reached for his phone and punched a button. Mostafa answered. “Reschedule everything for the next two hours.”

  Sheridan laughed as he tossed the phone aside again. “Such a bossy man. And so certain of yourself. What if I have appointments?”

  He pulled her head down to his. “None are more important than this one.”

  Her mouth brushed his softly, sweetly, and his groin tightened.

  “No,” she agreed. “None are.”

  * * *

  The car that would take Sheridan to her doctor’s appointment was waiting for her the next morning. Daoud escorted her down the steps and out the door, but before he could help her into the car Rashid strode outside, looking regal and magnificent in his desert robes.

  “I thought you had a meeting,” Sheridan said.

  Rashid grinned at her. “Did I not explain to you how this works? I am the king. I can reschedule meetings.”

  Sheridan settled onto the seat and Rashid climbed in beside her. Then the door sealed shut and the car started toward the city.

  “It’s not necessary for you to be there the first time.”

  He took her hand in his and butterflies soared in her belly. “I know you’re trying to spare me any pain, but I feel as if I should be there for you.”

  Sheridan’s heart squeezed tight as she gazed up at his handsome face. She’d spent every night for the past two weeks in his bed, and she still felt the same butterflies whenever he touched her. Butterflies, heat, need and a melting, aching, wonderful tension that suffused her whole being as he worshipped her body with his own.

  And now he’d given her a dog. She’d named the little guy Leo because it just seemed to fit. He was the same tawny gold as a lion, plus he’d been given to her by the Lion of Kyr. Her husband. She dropped her gaze to their linked hands and felt a bittersweet happiness flood her.

  Because she was falling for this man. So very hard. Sometimes she thought he cared about her, too, but then she’d catch him standing on the terrace in the middle of the night, leaning against the railing, caught up in thought. She didn’t disturb him. She just watched and waited and when she couldn’t stay awake any longer, she fell asleep in his bed alone. He never left her right after they made love anymore, but he did leave. Often.

  And it hurt. She could admit that to herself. It hurt that he still felt the need to get away from her. She could never understand the depth of the loss he’d experienced, but he couldn’t live his life mired in the past. That wasn’t good for him. Or for their child.

  Or for her, but then she felt as if that was a selfish thought to have. She knew she was not a replacement for his lost wife, a woman he’d loved very much, according to Daoud.

  Daoud didn’t talk about his king often, and never about anything private, but he had once let it slip to Sheridan that he’d been with Rashid in Russia and that he’d watched him change after the tragedy. Rashid had never been a bubbly person, but he’d closed down completely in the aftermath of his wife and child’s death.

  Sheridan squeezed Rashid’s hand and hoped he didn’t regret coming with her today.

  They soon arrived at the Royal Kyrian Hospital and were ushered into a spotless examining room. There was no such thing as waiting to be seen when you were the king of Kyr, because the doctor and her staff were already there and waiting for Sheridan to arrive.

  After being directed to change and then ushered onto the table, Sheridan lay there while the doctor used the ultrasound wand to search for a heartbeat. Rashid stood beside her, holding her hand, his eyes on the screen as the doctor found the tiny bean that was their baby.

  And then the heartbeat filled the speaker and Sheridan couldn’t contain a sob. She bit her lip, trembling from head to toe, while the doctor took photos. Rashid’s grip tightened. She looked up at him, at the whiteness of his skin, and her heart skipped.

  He was reliving an earlier moment just like this, she imagined, and she wished she could tell him it was okay, that it would all be okay. But she couldn’t really guarantee such a thing, could she?

  The doctor said something in Arabic that suddenly had Rashid’s fingers tightening even more. The wand stopped moving and the doctor stared at the screen.

  “Twins,” she said after a long moment. She turned to look at Sheridan. “You are having twins, Your Highness.”

  Rashid stood looking at the screen, his body as rigid as a board. “Twins? You are certain?”

  The doctor smiled. “Yes, Your Majesty. There are two heartbeats.” She turned the sound on again. And Sheridan could hear it, the faint beat of another heart beneath the pounding of the first.

  “They’re so fast,” Sheridan said, worried at the quick tempo.

  “This is perfectly normal,” the doctor replied.

  She finished up the exam and then they discussed things like vitamins, exercise and birthing classes. It all seemed so surreal to Sheridan. When it was finally over, the staff made another appointment for her and then she and Rashid were back in the car and returning to the palace.

  The silence between them was uncomfortably thick. Sheridan searched for things to say, but discarded most of them. What did you say to a man who was staring out the window and ignoring you after hearing the heartbeats of his children? If he was any other man, she might ask him what was wrong.

  But she knew, didn’t she? It was the ones who didn’t make it, the ones he’d loved and lost that were on his mind.

  “Are you all right?” she finally asked when the silence stretched too thin. Outside the car, life went on as usual, but inside it was quiet and strained.

  He turned to look at her. His eyes were bleak. “I’m fine.”

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  He was polite and distant at once. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I wanted to be there.”

  “But it causes you pain.”

  “I’ve been through this before, Sheridan. I knew what to expect when I went with you.”

  “You haven’t said anything since we heard the heartbeats.”

  His jaw flexed. “It was a shock. I didn’t expect two babies. I don’t think you did, either.”

  “No. But twins run in my family, though in my aunts and cousins, not my mother. I didn’t even consider it would happen to me.”

  His gaze raked her. “You are so slight. Are the other women in your family as small?”

  “My Aunt Liz is, yes, and she had twins. No problems other than a bit of preeclampsia at the end.” She sighed. “It will be fine, Rashid. What happened to your wife—well, it was uncommon. Tragic and terrible, but uncommon.”

  He seemed so detached and cold. “I am aware of this.”

  They reached the palace then and the doors swung open. Rashid helped her out of the car
and led her inside while the palace guards saluted and other servants bowed as they passed. Her heart pounded as they walked through the ornate and beautiful corridors. She wanted to rewind the clock, to go back to the way things were before they’d gone to the hospital, but that was impossible now. She simply had to deal with the aloof man at her side and wait for him to thaw again.

  When they reached the private wing, he stopped before the door. He looked as if he’d like nothing better than to escape. “The doctor said you should rest.”

  “Yes, but it’s not even lunchtime yet and I just got up a couple of hours ago.”

  “Still. Two babies will sap your strength if you aren’t careful.”

  “They are the size of beans, Rashid. I think I can handle some activity. Besides, I still have things to do before we go into the desert. Layla has promised to give me some more lessons this morning on protocol. I think it would be wise to learn as much as I can if I’m not to embarrass you out there.”

  He grew very still then and a tiny thread of unease uncoiled within her. She knew what he would say before he said it. “Perhaps you should not go with me, habibti. We’ll be moving around a lot. Besides, it’s dreadfully hot, and you might get ill. You should stay here and think about the public wedding. There is much to be done yet.”

  Sheridan put her hand on his arm. He stiffened beneath her touch and she dropped her hand, hurt by his rejection. Frustration pounded into her. She would not be silent.

  “Why are you behaving like this? I’m not any more pregnant than when we left here this morning. Why is it suddenly too hot for me to go with you?”

  He swallowed. “It’s not suddenly too hot. It’s always been too hot. I failed to consider it before.”

  Of course she knew what was wrong with him. She’d been worried about it since he’d insisted on going with her to the hospital. How could he contain his anxiety at what might happen to his children when his previous experience had been so tragic?