SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  Lacy gave a shake of her hair and put her makeup away. “Everything looks good with the documents,” she said, “but when we spoke before… This didn’t seem to be what you were looking for?”

  “I understand,” he said and stood. Fastening the button on his suit, he approached her desk. “But you say all is in order?”

  The way he moved as he drew closer made the breath leave her lungs in a slow exhale. She couldn’t take her eyes off how gracefully he took those few short steps to her desk. He rested his fingertips against her desk. Not leaning, not threatening, simply position.

  Unconsciously she ran her tongue over her lower lip as she imagined where else he could rest those fingertips.

  “Yes,” she said, and turned her eyes up to him. “All is in order. That is, if you’re certain this is what you want.”

  “Your attention to detail is commendable,” Walid said. Then as slowly as a cat stalking its prey through tall grass, he lowered himself onto those fingertips and locked eyes with her. She felt herself frozen under that gaze, and wondered how many people he’d pinned under the power of his presence. “Rest assured, I know what I want. And I intend on having it.”

  Lacy forced a steady breath into her lungs, refusing to let herself be under his power.

  “Well,” she said, forcing the word out, hoping the sound of her own voice would break his spell. It was clear he was used to women falling for his charm, and she wasn’t going to just be another notch. “If you’re certain.”

  She pushed the documents across her desk toward him and interlocked her fingers.

  “It seems a solid deal. Please let me know if I can advise you further.”

  Those dangerous eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he smiled. “I certainly will. Thank you for your time.”

  She kept her face clear and straight as she nodded and stood as she showed him to the door.

  When he was finally gone, Linda turned toward her boss, but Lacy was already pressed against the doorframe, her knees weak.

  “You weren’t kidding,” Linda said. “I want to climb that man like a tree.”

  FOUR

  The ache in Walid’s neck forced its way into his skull. The chair in his hotel room’s living area was stiff and uncomfortable.

  These were supposed to be luxury suites. Where was the luxury? It was strange how people were more concerned with looking rich rather than being comfortable in this country.

  Where he came from, luxury means body consistently relaxed, the mind forever at ease, the soul insistently appeased. Here, luxury meant expensive cars that felt more like a stiff chair in a chariot of cloud, closed off from the rest of the world. It meant high penthouses and uncomfortable furniture. He rubbed the back of his neck and threw the papers down on the square glass coffee table.

  “They try to cheat me,” he said aloud, not expecting a response.

  His three men stood in their positions against the walls. Walid stood and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the ache.

  “They think they can send me these demands and I will leave. They think I am not American, and so cannot decide for myself what is a good deal.”

  He stood at the window and looked out over the city that hated him. It was opportunity, yes, but would be a hard-fought victory. He looked over to the nearest of his men and nodded his head to get his attention.

  “You. The woman, Lacy, what do you think of her?”

  His man sniffed. “Bold. She’s a warrior spirit, but untested. A wolfhound working in a teddy bear factory.”

  Walid smirked and looked back out the window. “She strikes me as worthy of trust, despite not knowing the world she’s dipped into.”

  “Forgive my saying, but I believe she knows the world she enters. She’s simply unprepared for it. Her eyes are wide open.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  Walid turned toward it and rubbed his aching neck again. “Her naïveté will either spare her or kill her in the days to come.”

  Then raising his voice he said, “Come in.”

  The shift in his men’s posture was subtle and unnoticeable to the untrained eye. It was the shift of relaxed guards becoming ready for action.

  Walid crossed the room toward the door as room service entered with the cart. Trays of the food they ordered filled the room with delicious scents. That, at least, they got right about luxury. Three servants entered the room, one pushing the cart, and two others ready to set the table and present the food. Walid approached the cart and slipped a hand behind his back. It appeared he took on a casual stance, but in truth he readied his body for combat. As he reached out to pluck a grape from the fruit bowl, he tensed his arm to strike.

  “You are even more prompt than your concierge estimated.” Walid smiled to the man and popped the grape into his mouth.

  It was enough for the man to realize his ruse had failed. Now too deep into the room to escape unscathed, the man decided to go for broke.

  Reaching into his jacket for his gun, the other two men jumped into action. Walid’s guards were moving before they’d had a chance to react. Walid’s jab knocked out the man in front of him before he could draw his weapon.

  The room erupted into a brawl as Walid’s guards dove into action. The would-be-assassins were now forced into hand-to-hand as Walid’s forces were too skilled to allow the guns to come into play.

  Many would say that reflexes save lives, that to stop and think would kill you. Perhaps. But there is something to be said for a moment of planning. As fast as it had started, it was over as the last man fell. One of Walid’s guards held his side, blood staining his suit jacket and cutting a red line down his pants. When had a shot gone off?

  “You are injured,” Walid said, acknowledging the man’s pain. “See him to the hospital. You, have this filth cleaned up.”

  “Yes sir,” his man said, moving to gather the bodies even as he dialed for assistance.

  “They knew we were here,” the other uninjured guard said. “I’ll have us moved to a new hotel before the hour is out.”

  “No,” Walid said, holding a hand out towards him. “We go nowhere. I will not be run off.”

  “They’ll send more.”

  Walid looked his man in the eye, fixing him with his glared, holding him immobile. “Let them come.”

  FIVE

  The microwave beeped in Lacy’s kitchen, announcing to the world that it had finished the most glorious task of heating up her leftovers. Lacy’s bare feet patted across her carpeted floor, the loose fabric of her pjs flapping with each step. It’d been a long day, and she had to stay in the office an extra two hours just to finish drawing up some agreement papers.

  Words could not express how happy she was to be home in her comfies. She pulled her plate from the microwave and inhaled the steam rising from her pasta, a slice of meatloaf, and half a hamburger. There was no way she was cooking tonight, and leftovers tasted just as good the next day. Or the day after. Meatloaf never went bad! It was meatloaf.

  She took her plate with her to her second living room. The one in the main area was large, lavishly decorated, and quite the show piece for guests. The TV was a respectable size, the sound system passable. Her second living room, however, was upstairs and nestled between her office and the master bedroom.

  This was where she could truly relax. It had her old furniture from her college days, and the TV and sound system she’d actually put money into. She set the plate on her old solid wood coffee table. The long squat thing was decades old. Lacy curled a foot under her before plopping back onto her tan, tweed couch. It was hideous. She bought it from a thrift store, but to this day, it was the most comfortable thing she’d ever set her butt to. Not only was it perfect for snuggling into for watching a movie, but it was also hands-down the best napping couch in the world.

  The moment she lied down, it sucked out her soul. After the day she had, she was happy to spend some quality time with her room o’ comforts.

  The steaming plat
e in her lap, she turned the sound up on the TV now that she didn’t have to listen for the microwave. Work was still spread out on the table around her, but she was happy to take a break from that to stuff her face.

  She ate happily as she watched the end of her sitcom. As the credits rolled and shrank into a small box in the corner, the news anchor came on to tease the reports for that night. Lacy made a face and grabbed the remote.

  Just before she changed the channel, though, the image of a hotel came onto the screen and a picture of Walid.

  “Wait, what?” she said to the screen and put the remote back down.

  She sat and watched the news report, and wasn’t surprised at all when they saved that story for near the end of the show. Her dinner long finished, she had her feet rested on the coffee table, her plate empty and sitting on the cushion beside her.

  “A shooting today took place involving this man,” the anchor started, and again the picture of Walid.

  To hear them tell it, it was a wild gunfight. The sensationalism of the news was out of control, but she couldn’t help but give a small smile. Here was this businessman that she was impressed with, convinced was a dangerous animal, and then he goes and proves her right. There was not a single client of hers that could have claimed the same thing. It wasn’t that Walid’s guards handled the situation for him.

  The report stated he was directly involved in the fight. She could just picture him whirling about the room like a dervish, laying waste to his enemies. Lacy bit down on the meat of her thumb and switched the channel.

  She was going to have hell to look forward to tomorrow, though. Reporters were relentless.

  That night, she dreamed of Walid and imagined how the fight went down. After, she raced into his arms, they kissed, and then there was a train involved, and something about a forest. Her dreams never stayed on track. When she woke, she was disappointed by that fact, and spent the rest of the morning imagining how that dream would actually end.

  By the time she reached her office building and saw the swarm of reporters outside of her building, she really wished she was back home on her couch. After parking, she took a moment. Steeling her composure, she got out and walked up to the entrance. The reporters and cameras swarmed her, surrounding her despite the fact she wasn’t stopping for them.

  Their tenacity was impressive. They knew she was Walid’s lawyer, and the questions they threw at her were outrageous and ridiculous. It was one thing to seek the truth, but they were no better than paparazzi trying to get a reaction out of people. With every question, her heart beat faster.

  With every accusation, her judgement fogged over, fuzzy with anger. The muscles in her chest and legs tensed as she struggled to maintain control over herself. Just before reaching her door, she couldn’t take it anymore. She wasn’t going to be run off by such brutish tactics. Spinning about, she faced the reporters. She wasn’t even sure what came out of her mouth. For an instant, all she saw was red.

  Adrenaline pumping high in her blood, she didn’t even notice time had passed until she realized she was back inside the building and walking down the hall.

  She had no idea what just happened, but felt damn good about it.

  SIX

  The limo was comfortable enough for the money he was spending on it. Still, he would’ve preferred the ability to recline the back seats a bit more, but at least there was enough room to sprawl out.

  The small TV played in the background as he decided his next move. His partner stateside was also under threat from the organization seeking to stop Walid from gaining a foothold in the U.S., but they still weren’t certain who could be behind such an attack.

  All of his enemies stayed in their territory back home, too proud to dare leave. His siblings of course were all satisfied with his holdings that they’d purchased, and why wouldn’t they? If run properly, his was a profitable territory. His guards were following in the vehicle behind. Sometimes it was nice to just sit without the presence of others.

  The need for their services was very real, but that meant nothing to his sanity. He sipped his glass of grapefruit juice, enjoying the unique flavor of the fruit. The news was once again reporting on the incident at his hotel room.

  This time, however, he saw the face of his lawyer. She was as striking as ever. He tilted his head as he watched the video of her walking away from the cameras. He wasn’t quite able to make out what the reporters were asking, so he leaned forward to press the volume button.

  As he did, Lacy spun about, her eyes burning. It was almost as though she were looking directly at him. “My client fought for his life. Because he succeeded and survived, you feel you have some right to say what you like. He did not seek out violence. He did nothing to bring this to himself. My client was in his hotel room, and the filth of the world found him. And he won.”

  She then arched a threatening brow and added, “Allegedly.”

  No one said a thing as she turned and disappeared behind the doors of her building.

  Walid leaned back in his chair and smiled, swirling the pink juice in his glass idly. A warrior indeed. There was that fire he knew was inside. He sipped his juice and reminisced on the times he’d met her.

  He knew that he held himself as one did when they were dangerous. It wasn’t a conscious choice. A readiness for action, an awareness of space. Experience was the greatest teacher, and he’d had plenty. Yet, when he was near her, he could see in her eyes a boldness lacking in others. Women in his life had all been attracted to his power and money, but were always terrified of him in their quiet, demure way. They wanted to wade under his wing, and enjoy the benefits of his protection, while offering little in return.

  That was all well and good, as it made him feel useful on a different level to be able to provide that. Yet, it was always take.

  Relationships, no matter how casual or serious, always demanded of him. Time, money, effort, and yet he got back very little return on his investment. It was bothersome and exhausting. Lacy, though…

  The news coverage had moved on to some other story, but Walid sat in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the screen and thought of the way her eyes burned into the reporters, as if shaming them for their ignorance in the face of facts. Even when she had no idea what the facts were.

  This was a woman that fought beside him. She didn’t need his protection. There was something absolutely fetching about this fact.

  Walid took another drink of his juice, leaned back in the chair and dialed her number. Her secretary Linda answered.

  “Yes,” he said, “I would like to invite Lacy to dinner. A business meeting, you see. I know she had some questions regarding my financial plans, and this will be a meeting with my partner here in your United States. I believe she would find the meeting most informative.”

  Linda put him on hold for a moment as she checked Lacy’s schedule. While she did, he changed the channel on the TV to a nature show about animals of the amazon.

  “Yes, she’ll be available at that time. I’ve put it in her books.”

  “Excellent. Please let her know I look forward to seeing her.” Walid tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket and smiled.

  A dinner with his lawyer. Such a thing would be unheard of in his home. It would be interesting to witness her reaction to the information he and his partner were to discuss.

  Such eye-opening conversation would truly set her in his mind as someone to be trusted or not.

  SEVEN

  Lacy sat straight-backed across from her client. As she sipped her wine in the awkward silence between them, that’s what she had to continually remind herself. Walid was her client. She worked for him, and that was the end of it.

  It was impossible not to notice how good he looked in that suit, though, or the fact that despite the uncomfortable silence, he never once appeared bored. She knew he must have been. How many more interesting people he could’ve been with other than there with her.

  Originally Linda had said she was g
oing to meet his business partner. So far, however, it was just the two of them. They did the polite small-talk at first, but after twenty minutes, the conversation died as neither could think of anything to say that didn’t start touching on personal subjects. It’d been thirty minutes, and the waiter had refilled her glass twice.

  She was trying to pace herself, but taking a sip out of boredom was proving to be the death of her. When the waiter came by again to check on their bread, Walid gave an almost imperceptible tensing of his lips to show his perturbation. She only noticed because at that exact moment she’d been focused on the shape and fullness of his lips. She’d kissed men with thin, flat lips before.

  The common belief was that women were the only ones to need full, kissable lips, but every woman knew that a good set of peckers were just as important on a guy. Walid had a beautiful pair.

  “I’m surprised they haven’t called,” she said. She hadn’t meant to, but the alcohol was making her chatty, and without actually talking happening, she could feel that she was soon liable to say almost anything.

  “I’ve not checked,” he said. “My phone is kept on silent, especially when in fine establishments. It would be rude of me to look at my phone when such a beautiful woman sits across from me.”