The Sheikh's Scheming Sweetheart

by Holly Rayner

  "Sounds like you're more into the idea of a family than the reality of it," Kathy said. "What happens when you get what you wanted and it doesn't live up to the dream?"

  "Good question," Richard replied. "I don't know."

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  "So much of it, for me, has been about trying to please my dad," Kathy admitted. "I kind of hated him, but at the same time, I wanted his approval so much. I guess I thought if I could prove myself to him, maybe he'd stay. Maybe he'd care about me. But he's dead. He can't approve of anything now. There's just this stupid ultimatum he left behind. At first, I thought maybe it was some kind of last challenge. Like he wanted me to prove I could be a great reporter and have a family the same way he did. Now I'm starting to think he just never wanted me to follow in his footsteps at all."

  "Maybe." Richard leaned back against the bench, contemplating the sky. "Who knows? It's not like you can ask him. He probably wouldn't have given you a straight answer if you did."

  Kathy looked at Richard in surprise.

  "Everyone keeps telling me he meant well," she said.

  "I've got some experience with not-so-great parents," Richard replied. "And whatever way you shake it, this wasn’t a nice thing to do. Anyone who says you have to love your family just because they're related to you can stick that where the sun don't shine. Sometimes parents are monsters. Sometimes they're just not cut out to be parents at all. You're not obligated to excuse their behavior."

  "Seems like you're pretty passionate about that," Kathy noted, suddenly wondering what Richard had gone through.

  "It took a lot of therapy for me to stop trying to find a way to love the people who hurt me," Richard said quietly. "It doesn't have to be that way. You don't owe anyone your forgiveness."

  "Thank you," Kathy said, surprised by how much she meant it. "Really."

  Richard shrugged.

  "I'm not going to marry you," Kathy said after a moment. "Not ever. But I'd like to be your friend."

  "That's probably for the best." Richard laughed. "Yeah. Friends sounds good."

  "I was going to go out with my friend Tessa this weekend," she said. "You could come with. You like craft beer?"

  "Love it."

  "Awesome. Tessa's obsessed. She wants to take me to this tasting thing."

  "The Wynwood Beer Festival?"

  "Yeah, that one."

  "I already have tickets!"

  "What a stroke of serendipity. Tessa will be thrilled. I really couldn't care less about beer."

  Richard shook his head in amused dismay.

  "Yeah, we really shouldn't date," he said with a laugh.

  Kathy snorted, then wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sickly-sweet orange blossom scent.

  "I have to get out of here," she said. "The orange smell is making me feel sick."

  "Really?" Richard frowned, sniffing the air. "I thought it was pretty mild today. I can barely smell it."

  "Well, I'm going to throw up if I stay here any longer," Kathy replied. "I'm going home. I'll send you a message about Wynwood later."

  "See you there," Richard said, watching her go with a slightly concerned frown. He really wasn't such a bad guy.

  Kathy was still feeling unwell when she got home, though it had faded a little away from the orange blossoms. She shook it off, only for it to return in force when she opened the fridge to contemplate dinner.

  The box of leftover Chinese food on the top shelf had only been there a day, but the smell hit her like a rogue wave and sent her reeling and dry heaving. She gave up on the idea of food entirely and crawled into bed until the room stopped spinning. What the hell had that been? Maybe she was coming down with something. She went to bed early in the hopes that it would be gone, but the next morning the nausea was still there. She wasn't throwing up, but any strong smell seemed to set her off. Christ, she thought, it’s a good thing Tessa isn't seeing this. You'd almost think I was—

  Kathy froze in the middle of retching over the kitchen sink and did some mental math. It was three, almost four weeks since Valentine's Day. She'd never kept careful track of her period, but it was fairly regular. She'd been expecting it the past several days, blaming her bloating and moodiness on the upcoming visit from Mother Nature. But it wasn't here. She swallowed hard and her stomach churned for an entirely new reason.

  She pulled on sweatpants and double timed it to the nearest corner store that sold pregnancy tests. Don't panic, she told herself as she hurried home. She probably just had a stomach bug. She was overreacting. It was better to be cautious, but still. There was no chance she was pregnant.

  Well, maybe not no chance, she thought, remembering Valentine's Day. But only a very slim chance. Twenty percent, tops. She did a mental tally and ruefully upgraded the odds to fifty percent. Still, she wasn't pregnant. Maybe if she thought it hard enough, it would be true.

  She took the test as quickly as possible, then paced, fretting, while the result developed. Then, throwing the first result in the garbage, she did it again. But the result was the same. Sitting on the toilet, Kathy looked at the test stick in her hand and the two little pink lines that indicated a positive result. Then she reached for her phone.

  It was hard to say how she was feeling. Perhaps the most honest answer would be to say that she was not. She was having some kind of delayed reaction. Her brain just wouldn't process it. So, she was just sitting there on the couch, totally blank, while Tessa bounced between euphoria and terror like an emotional pinball. She was pacing in front of Kathy's sofa, brandishing a takeout menu like a baton.

  "But this is great!" Tessa said, hitting euphoria again. "You're going to get your inheritance! The family house! This is exactly what you wanted! I mean sure, it’s probably going to ruin your career and QIC Media and the scandal will be awful…" Tessa was dropping back down into terror again, the shift visible on her expression, which just as suddenly lifted. "But just think of the baby! It's going to be so gorgeous, and a prince!"

  "I told you," Kathy said, "Tehar's not—"

  "Semantics!" Tessa said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "The point is, you're having a baby! What did the Sheikh say?"

  "I haven't told him yet," Kathy confessed.

  "Aww, you told me first." Tessa looked briefly touched, then smacked Kathy on the arm with the takeout menu. "I can't believe you told me before the father!"

  "This isn't exactly the way we planned it!" Kathy said in her defense. "We were going to use IVF. It was supposed to be clinical and impersonal and guaranteed. God only knows what's happening inside me right now. I could miscarry tomorrow for all we know!"

  "So?" Tessa looked baffled. "What, are you going to wait until it's born to tell him? He has a right to know!"

  "I know!" Kathy shouted, exasperated. "I just… I'm not ready. I can't have that conversation."

  "We need to get you to a doctor," Tessa said, swinging back into worry, tapping the takeout menu on her lips as she thought. "Have you picked an obstetrician yet?"

  "No." Kathy put her face in her hands. It was starting to get through to her now. She stared down at her stomach through her fingers. It still looked perfectly normal. Was there really a little life growing in there? A life she had made. Her and Tehar. She remembered the dream she'd had, that first night he'd taken her to dinner. Standing on the shore, holding hands with a child that had the perfect combination of their features…

  "I'm going to the airport."

  She stood up, interrupting Tessa in the middle of a rant about her ob-gyn. Tessa stared at her in surprise.

  "What?"

  Kathy was already heading towards her room.

  "I'm going to Abu Sadah," she said. "Today."

  "First of all—what?" Tessa replied. "Secondly, why and with what money?"

  "I've got some savings," Kathy said, confidence wavering a little as she dragged her suitcase out from under her bed. It wasn't a lie, but she didn't exactly have surprise vacation money. "I can't tell him thi
s over the phone, Tess. I just can't."

  "Are you sure he wants to see you?"

  That made her stop for a second, fistfuls of clothes in her hands. He probably didn't.

  "I don't care," she said and put another handful of clothes into her suitcase. "I need to see him."

  Tessa watched her for a moment longer, obviously concerned.

  "Okay," she said at last. "If that's what you need. I'll even help with the ticket."

  Kathy dropped the clothes she was holding to throw her arms around Tessa in gratitude. Tessa hugged back her tightly.

  "What a mess," she said. "Just be safe, okay?"

  "I will," Kathy promised. "I just need to do this."

  "You're going to miss Wynwood." Tess pouted in disappointment.

  "Richard will keep you company," Kathy said with a small laugh. "You know I'm worthless with beer. Plus, it’s not like I can drink now, anyway!"

  Chapter Ten

  They got Kathy’s ticket online, and Tessa drove her to the airport. She'd only packed one bag, small enough for a carry-on. Her first flight was a nine-hour overnight from Miami Airport to Charles De Gaulle in Paris. After a nearly three-hour layover, she'd fly six and a half hours to King Khalid International in Riyadh where she'd have to stay overnight. Then, at six the next morning, she'd take a two-hour flight into Abu Sadah.

  She was thankful she'd kept her passport up-to-date from her days as a travel writer. Still, this was going to be one of the worst flights she'd ever been on.

  That's what you get for buying last minute. Still, it will be worth it, she told herself as she hugged Tessa goodbye and headed through the gate, on to her first flight. To see him again, to figure this out together, would be worth it. It had to be.

  The overnight flight was surprisingly comfortable. There was an in-flight movie and plenty of leg room. She slept through most of it. The six-hour flight after it was less pleasant. She was already stiff and sore from flying all night. At least, thanks to the long layover, she had a chance to walk around the airport, stroll through the shops, and stretch her legs.

  She was still avoiding thinking about her situation. It was harder than it seemed. But then it was back onto the plane for six hours and it was just her and her thoughts in a cramped uncomfortable economy seat.

  Would he want to keep the baby? she wondered. Maybe he'd ask her to abort. It was her decision ultimately, but she didn't really know what she wanted and she wondered if he did. She put her hand on her stomach, imagining that life, as turbulence rattled the plane around her. No, whatever Tehar said, she was going to keep this baby. There was nothing wrong with choosing to end a pregnancy, but she just couldn't do it. It would haunt her.

  The plane finally landed in Riyadh after what felt like a lifetime. She'd booked the closest hotel to the airport. She'd never have been able to afford it alone, but Tessa had refused to entertain the notion of Kathy sleeping in the airport terminal. Kathy made her way up to her small single room and collapsed for eight hours. She woke at five with just enough time to rush back to the airport for her last flight, skipping breakfast in the process.

  It was a small plane, not big enough for separate classes, and the only one flying into Abu Sadah that day. Tehar's country was wealthy but tiny, and not a draw for tourists. As she settled into her seat, she sent him a text.

  I'm landing at the Abu Sadah airport in two hours, she wrote. I'd appreciate it if you picked me up.

  Then, at the insistence of the stewardess, she turned off her phone.

  As the plane taxied for liftoff, the worries she'd been avoiding thinking about came creeping back. The closer she was to Abu Sadah, the stronger they seemed to get. Two hours later, as the plane began to land, she could practically feel them breathing down her neck.

  Would he be there when she landed? Would he be angry? She should have talked to him before she left. She should have explained everything. She'd been too scared to do it over the phone. Why did she think it would be any easier in person? To be perfectly honest, maybe she was just running away, thinking that if she left Miami she could also leave behind the worries that had been plaguing her. But they'd followed her. There was no getting away.

  The plane rolled to a stop. Abu Sadah was too small for a proper airport, just a commercial landing strip outside of its largest city. Kathy disembarked directly onto the tarmac, carrying her single bag. She'd been worrying about where to go after, but there was a sleek white car parked on the asphalt, and Tehar was standing outside it.

  He was wearing traditional clothing, which she'd never seen him in before. The crisp white thobe and red keffiyeh looked good on him; Kathy couldn't deny it. But at the same time, it made him seem like a stranger. She felt even more certain that she'd made the wrong decision. He was frowning, and she couldn't tell if it was concern or anger.

  For a moment, standing in front of him, she wanted to just blurt it out. The words "I'm pregnant" were on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be spoken.

  "Are you all right?" Tehar asked. She nodded and said nothing. Looking unconvinced, he opened the car door for her.

  He sat in the back next to her. Someone else was driving, presumably another hired driver. The car smelled of its new leather seats and Tehar's cologne. Silence hung between them, tangible as a heavy velvet curtain. Tehar tried again to reach past it.

  "We'll have to get you some new clothes," he said. "Western clothes aren't appropriate for a woman in Abu Sadah."

  Kathy looked down at the T-shirt and jeans she'd put on in the hotel in Riyadh, wondering what was so inappropriate about them and what she would be expected to wear instead.

  "How long will you be staying?" Tehar asked.

  "I don't really know," Kathy confessed, finally answering him. "It's complicated."

  "Is it about Mitchell?" Tehar asked, his voice slightly strained. "Did he do something? If he hurt you I—"

  "No." Kathy stopped him, shaking her head. "No, it wasn't Mitchell."

  Despite everything, his concern and his obvious relief when she told him he was wrong was reassuring. It was still Tehar and, though he had distanced himself for the same reason she had, it was clear that he still cared.

  "Then why are you here?" he asked. "Why would you fly all this way just to talk to me?"

  "I'm pregnant," she said. The words spilled out of her all at once before she even realized she was saying them. She just blurted it out. Tehar stared at her.

  She said it again. "I'm pregnant. It's yours. From Valentine's Day."

  Tehar just stared at her. Slowly, he put his head down in his hands. She saw his shoulders shake, and for a moment she was afraid he was crying. Then he sat up and she realized he was laughing.

  "My God." He laughed. "It's exactly what we wanted, at precisely the wrong time."

  Kathy snorted as she realized he was right, and soon she was laughing too. Both of them, giggling hysterically in the back seat of his beautiful town car.

  "I'm so sorry for just showing up this way," Kathy said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes when she could speak again. "I just couldn't say it over the phone."

  "It's fine," Tehar said, taking a deep breath. She waited, hoping the laughter was a sign that he was happy about this, that things would be okay.

  But he said nothing more. He stared out his window, expression as closed off as she'd ever seen it. He said nothing more until the car pulled up in front of a store. He told her to wait as he got out. Several minutes later, he returned with a bag.

  "Put that on," he said. "You'll be meeting my family. You should be properly dressed. You can wear it over your clothes for now."

  Kathy took the black cotton garment from the bag with a frown. It was an abaya, a kind of loose black dress that covered from the neck to the ankle. There was a hood as well. She'd known all Saudi women wore them, but she hadn't been aware they were expected in Abu Sadah as well, and she hadn't really considered that she might be expected to wear one.

  She looked at Tehar, staring
impassively out his window again, and sighed. It seemed like this trip would be more stressful than she'd bargained for. With a little difficulty in the confines of the car, she pulled the dress on over her clothes and tucked her hair haphazardly into the hood. At least there wasn't a veil. The fabric was very light, so at least it wasn't too hot, but it was still strange and a little uncomfortable.

  "I'm sorry about that," Tehar said, seeing her frowning down at herself. "I know you're not used to it. It will just be temporary, so try to bear with it."

  "It's fine," Kathy reassured him. "Kind of reminds me of the time I played a nun back in high school drama club."

  But Tehar was already looking out the window again, remaining as distant from her as he could. Even now that she was pregnant, was he still going to try to act like this was just business?

  "How's it been going with your lawyers?" she asked instead. "Do you think we'll be able to stop Mitchell?'

  "It's a long and tedious process," Tehar replied. "We really don't know anything yet. The laws in my country do not exactly look kindly on sleeping with unmarried women, so that has complicated things a bit."

  "I'm so sorry it turned out this way," Kathy said, giving up watching him and looking out her own window. "This should have been simple."

  "It isn't your fault," Tehar said. "There's no one to blame for this but Mitchell."

  Things fell silent again and remained that way for the rest of the drive. The downtown of Abu Sadah's capital seemed much like any other city she'd ever seen, though all the people were dressed the same, with men in white thobes and women in black abayas.

  But soon they were outside the city, driving along the Gulf coast. The ocean stretched out on one side of them, the desert on the other. Mountains defined the horizon in the farthest distance, hazy in the bright sunlight. Temperatures here weren't so different from Miami, in the eighties this time of year, but far dryer than the humid Florida air.