Carrying the Sheikh's Heir

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Carrying the Sheikh's Heir Page 15

by Lynn Raye Harris


  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE ANIMALS BORE down on her quickly, snarling and thumping and snorting, and Sheridan rolled into a ball and tried to protect her head. She would die out here in the Kyrian Desert, her babies with her, and all because she’d been so tormented over a man that she’d lost her head.

  There was another howl, and a shriek that was quickly cut off. And then the thumping grew louder and Sheridan realized there was shouting. Men shouting. She was afraid to uncoil her body, just in case the beasts were still there, but then she felt rough hands on her. She didn’t even scream as a man jerked her up and against his body. He called out in rough Arabic and then she was flung onto a horse and the man climbed up behind her.

  The hijab had fallen around her eyes and she couldn’t see anything at all, but there was a man and a horse and she hung on to his waist for dear life as the horse bolted forward into the night. Around them, she thought she heard more hooves, more horses, but the sound became a dull throbbing as thunder split the night.

  And then she felt the first cold drops of rain on her back and head. She was stunned as the rain began to fall harder. She would have never guessed. But the wind howled and the horses ran and the rain fell, and Sheridan had no idea where she was or who she was with.

  But since the man was infinitely preferable to the beasts, whatever they were, she was grateful for the moment just to be where she was.

  They rode for what seemed forever, the rain pounding down, the wind whipping, the horses straining forward, until finally they came to an abrupt halt and Sheridan knocked her head on the man’s chest.

  There was more Arabic ringing through the night, and then another man put hands around her waist and helped her down. The man on the horse followed, and then he swept her into his arms as if she was a rag doll and strode into a tent. Sheridan struggled to push the fabric from her face. Her teeth were chattering and her skin prickled with goose bumps.

  The man dumped her unceremoniously onto her feet and began to remove her clothing. That was when Sheridan came to her senses. She batted at his hands and tried to scramble away. He said something, but the blood rushing in her ears prevented her from understanding. She just knew she had to get away from him. She had to find Rashid.

  She drew in breath to scream—

  And the man jerked her into his arms, his mouth coming roughly down on top of hers, silencing her.

  Sheridan struggled for only a moment before she realized whose mouth was ravaging hers, whose arms wrapped around her, whose hands speared into her hair and tilted her head back for greater access.

  She clung to him, her body softening, hands clutching his wet robes. When he realized she knew, he set her away from him, though she whimpered and wanted to stay in his arms.

  “We have to get you out of that wet clothing, habibti,” he said, his voice rough and beautiful.

  Her teeth were chattering again and this time when he began to strip her, she didn’t stop him. Her hands were too cold to help and so she simply stood there while he stripped the clothing from her body and then wrapped her in a warm blanket. He chafed her arms and then he picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he set her down and pulled a soft fur on top of her.

  “Rashid,” she said when he started to walk away, but he only turned and shot her a look that she couldn’t read.

  He was wet, too, his hair sticking to his head, his face streaked with moisture. He did not seem to be as cold as she was, however.

  “I’m going to send for something hot to drink. I’m not leaving.”

  When he walked out, she huddled under the blankets, her brain whirling. She’d made a grave mistake coming here like this. He would be furious, and he would think her unbalanced for even attempting such a crazy thing. Why wouldn’t he want another wife? A more sensible one who didn’t act on her emotions without fully considering her actions first?

  He returned soon with a brass pot and two cups. He poured tea for her, laced it with sugar and handed her a cup.

  “I’m afraid the Bedouin don’t drink decaffeinated tea, but this is weak. It shouldn’t hurt the babies.”

  She dropped her eyes as she studied the cup, blowing on the steam curling over the top of the liquid. Shame rolled through her.

  She could hear him pouring tea for himself, stirring the tiny spoon against the glass, and her nerves tightened as she waited for the explosion.

  When it didn’t come, she looked up and met a hot, dark gaze staring back at her. Her heart turned over.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left the palace.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” He lifted his cup and she thought his hands were shaking, but then she decided it was just her who was shaking. “You could have died out there, Sheridan. The desert is very unforgiving.”

  “I know.”

  Strong fingers suddenly gripped her chin and lifted her face until she had to look directly at him again. His gaze was searching.

  “Is that what you wanted to do?”

  She blinked. “Wh-what?” It took her a moment to process it, but when she did, she sucked in a hard breath. “God, no! I wasn’t trying to kill myself!”

  “Then what were you doing?” He sounded angry now. Harsh. “Because you almost did just that, habibti! You and the babies were moments away from being mauled by jackals. If we had not come along when we did—”

  The color drained from his face and he closed his eyes, his jaw tight.

  At that look on his face, there was nothing she could do but tell him the truth. The reason she’d set out on a journey toward this oasis in the first place. Besides, she was too weary to dance around the subject any longer.

  “I heard you were going to bring home another wife.”

  His head snapped up then, his black gaze boring into her. “Where did you hear this?”

  “In the palace. The rumor is that you will marry one of the chieftains’ daughters.” She lifted her chin. “I know that’s not unusual in Kyr, but it’s unusual for me.”

  “And so you decided to risk your life, and the lives of our children, to make your opinion known? Did it not occur to you to ask me about this when I returned?”

  She snorted. “With a new wife on your arm? No, it didn’t occur to me to wait.”

  “Sheridan.” He shook his head. Said something in Arabic. And then he was looking at her again, his eyes filled with fury. “This stubbornness of yours could have cost you your life!”

  “I realize that now!” she shouted back. “I behaved stupidly, I know it, and you’re embarrassed and furious and no doubt the new wife is signing documents as we speak. Well, I won’t live like that! I can’t.”

  She put a fist to her heart, felt hot tears begin to roll down her cheeks and cursed herself for being so damned emotional. Hormones, she reminded herself.

  “I won’t do it, Rashid.”

  He looked stunned. “You do realize I am the king? That it’s not your place to advise me on this?”

  The trembling in her limbs was no longer only due to the cold. “Just tell me if it’s true. Are you planning to take another wife?”

  His jaw was marble. “Kyrian politics are complicated, Sheridan.”

  “That’s not an answer.” Her voice was a painful whisper over the lump in her throat.

  He closed his eyes and put his forehead in his palm. “The council wishes me to take a Kyrian wife. But I did not come out here to do that.”

  “And yet it’s only a matter of time.”

  “It would seem so.”

  She sipped the tea as if they were having a polite conversation rather than one that broke her heart and ripped out her guts.

  “Well, thank you for being honest. If you could perhaps wait until the babies are born, I’ll be busy enough then that I won’t mind so
much.”

  He growled. “You won’t mind so much?”

  She looked at him evenly, though her face was still hot with tears. “As you’ve taken pains to inform me from the beginning, I have no choice. And no say in the matter, either. If you take another wife, I’ll endeavor not to disembowel you both with Daoud’s sword.”

  If Rashid was amused or alarmed, he didn’t show it. “He followed you, you know.”

  She didn’t, but her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Daoud out there alone, too. Guilt filled her then. And fear. “Is he all right? The jackals didn’t get him, did they?”

  “He is fine. His horse went lame, which is why he didn’t catch you. I sent men after him once we found you. They returned a few moments ago, and Daoud is well. For the moment.”

  She heard the dangerous note in his voice. “Rashid, it’s not his fault. He trusted me and I gave him the slip.”

  “He should not have trusted you at all.”

  “Maybe not.” She bowed her head. “Probably not.”

  “Apparently I should not, either. Or at least not with any swords.”

  She glared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “I’d rather do something else with you.”

  She sat there in shock for a moment. And then she shook her head violently. “No. I can’t. Not ever again, Rashid. Not if you’re going to marry another woman.”

  He reached for her, gripped her chin and forced her to look at him again. His eyes were bright. “Why not, habibti? Why would this bother you? Is it because you are American? Or is there another reason?”

  Her heart thrummed and her throat ached and she wanted to sink beneath the covers and hide. He was holding her, demanding an answer, and all she could think was that she wanted him to kiss her. And then she wanted to strangle him.

  “I’ve grown fond of you,” she said as primly as she could manage under the circumstances. It was such a bald-faced lie, but she’d die before she’d admit that she loved him now.

  She did not expect him to grin. “Fond? I like the sound of that.”

  She swatted at his hand. “I meant to say I was fond of you. I’ve changed my mind now. Who could be fond of a dictator?”

  He took her teacup and set it aside. Then he moved closer, threaded his hand through her still-damp hair. “Who indeed?”

  His head descended and she closed her eyes, aching for his kiss. But a hot feeling swelled inside her, bubbling up until she put her hand over his mouth and stopped him from kissing her. If he kissed her, she would sob her heart out and confess all her tragic feelings for him.

  And she couldn’t do that and keep her dignity.

  “No, Rashid. You kiss me and charm me and make me forget myself, but this is where it has to stop. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with a man who runs away from his feelings, a man who can’t even be with me without wanting to escape. I can’t give you everything I have and only get part of you in return. I’ve spent too much of my life making other people happy and I’m not going to keep doing it with you when you can’t even give me something so basic as a normal marriage between two people. I deserve better than that. I demand better than that.”

  She took her hand away slowly, expecting him to explode in arrogant pronouncements about being a king and her having a place, but he caught her hand and held it in his. His skin burned into her. She wanted to pull her hand away and she wanted to curl into his heat at once.

  Why did she have to love a man who was so wrong for her on so many levels?

  His brows drew together as he studied her. And then he lifted a finger and traced her mouth lightly, so lightly. She refused to whimper.

  “When Mostafa called to say you were missing, I thought I was about to relive that moment when I lost Daria and our son. And I was terrified, but not because of what happened in the past and how much it hurt.”

  He pulled in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “I was terrified because it could happen again, and it would hurt just as much this time as the last. It would hurt because of you, Sheridan.”

  Tears filled her eyes then, but she shook her head and wished she could plug her ears. Because the beautiful words didn’t mean what she so desperately wished they meant. They couldn’t. Could they?

  “Don’t say that, Rashid. Don’t say things like that to me when you intend to marry someone else someday.”

  He held her hard against him and she could feel his heart beating strong and fast. “I don’t intend to marry anyone else, habibti. I said the council wishes it. I even agreed to it because it made political sense, but I am the king and I can change my mind. And I have changed my mind, Sheridan. I don’t want any woman but you. I won’t have any woman in my bed but you. You’re all I need. You and our children.”

  Sheridan’s fingers curled into his damp clothes as she squeezed her eyes tight shut and held on. It was as if she’d suddenly gotten onto a crazy merry-go-round and she couldn’t get off. She was dizzy with the feelings ricocheting through her and confused about what was happening.

  She pushed away from him until she could see his eyes. “What does this mean, Rashid? I need you to say it plainly. I need to understand.”

  He pushed the damp hair off her face. He looked so serious. So worried. “It means that I tried to harden my heart against you, but I failed. It means that I’m terrified about you carrying two babies, and that as much as I might like to spank you right now for what you did tonight, I’d much rather fall to my knees and worship your body and thank Allah that you are mine. It means that I love you, Sheridan, though I tried not to. I’m finished with running from this thing between us.”

  The lump in her throat was huge. “This thing between us?”

  He laughed softly. “Have you not noticed? It’s incendiary. I touch you, you touch me, and the room goes up in flame. But it’s not just sex, Sheridan. I’ve had sex before, and it doesn’t feel quite like that. With you, I can’t get enough. Not just of sex, but of you. When I’m not with you, I want to be. And when I am with you, I want to be closer. I know you feel these things, too. You would have to in order to put up with me these past few weeks.”

  She smoothed her hand over his chest. “Oh, Rashid, just when I think you can’t say anything else that surprises me, you say this. I thought it was just me who couldn’t get enough. I thought I was weak where you were concerned and I kept telling myself I needed to be stronger, that I should tell you no. But I couldn’t.”

  “You haven’t said you love me, habibti.” He ran his fingers over her cheek. “And you don’t have to. I already know. And if I had any doubts before, the fact you risked your life to come out here because of a rumor would have erased them all. I’m still angry with you for this, by the way. You should have called me.”

  “I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t run away from the question. I had to see your eyes.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I understand. But never do this again. If you had perished out there—” He swallowed hard. “I would have perished with you, Sheridan. Do you understand that? I would have perished, too.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks again, only this time she felt free enough to lean forward and kiss him. He was hers, really hers, and she wasn’t hiding her feelings another moment. He caught her to him again and kissed her until she was on fire. She was no longer cold, but burning up from the inside out, her entire being filled with flame.

  Somehow they got him out of his damp clothing and then he was under the furs with her, their hot limbs tangling together as they rolled together beneath the covers. She ended up on top, straddling him, sinking down on top of him until they both groaned with the rightness of it.

  “Sheridan,” he gasped, gazing up at her, his expression filled with so much more than simply heat.

  She lowered her mouth to his, kissed him tenderly, teasing it out until ne
ither of them could stand it a moment longer. He gripped her hips and drove up into her while she rode him faster and faster.

  They came together, gasping and crying out as the flame rolled through them. And then they collapsed into each other’s arms with soft caresses and even softer kisses.

  “I love you, Rashid,” she said shyly, and he squeezed her tight. She could feel his smile against her hair.

  “I love you, too, Sheridan. You keep me grounded.”

  “You mean I keep your ego in check,” she said, laughing.

  “That, too.” He stroked his fingers up and down her arm. “I didn’t know how lost I was until you entered my life.”

  “And I didn’t know I would find home with a man who lived in such a different world than my own. But I did.”

  “Do you like it here?” he asked, and she thought he seemed a little hesitant. As if it worried him.

  “I love it more every day. But the truth is I would love any place in this world so long as you were there. You are my home. You.”

  He squeezed her to him and they said nothing for a long while. But then they began to talk and they spent the evening speaking softly about so many things, and then they made love again, tenderly, before falling asleep curled tightly together.

  They would return to the city in a few days and Rashid would issue the proclamation, at their public wedding ceremony, that Sheridan was to be his queen and not just a princess consort. He would deal with the council and they would learn to be happy. In time, they would come to love Queen Sheri, as they called her, as fiercely as if she had been born one of their own.

  But tonight was precisely how the royal couple would spend every night for the rest of their lives. Curled together, complete in each other. First, last and always.

  EPILOGUE

  TWINS. RASHID STILL couldn’t believe it, though he’d known for months they were coming. Sheridan had gotten huge and he’d worried himself silly, but his babies were born—a boy and a girl named Tarek and Amira—and his wife was safe. He watched her sleeping now, her hand held lightly in his as she rested after the long ordeal of giving birth.

 

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