Lynn Raye Harris - Sheikh's Desert Desire

“You have to eat. It’s not good for you or the baby not to eat.”

She put her hand over her belly automatically. “We don’t know if there is a baby.”

“We will know soon enough. Besides, it’s better to assume there is a baby and do everything to take care of it properly.”

She wanted to yell at him. “I didn’t refuse, Rashid. I can’t keep anything down right now. My stomach is upset.” She set the book aside and matched his glare. “You promised we would spend some time together so we could know each other better, and yet I’ve not seen you in five days now.”

His expression didn’t ease. “I’ve been busy. This is what happens when one is a king.”

“Yet you found time to come here tonight and chastise me for not eating.”

He stripped off the kaffiyeh and tossed it aside. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “I came straight here from a meeting.” He walked over to the table where Fatima had left food in chafing dishes and examined the contents. Then he picked up a plate and dished some things onto it.

Sheridan bristled. “If you think you’re going to force me to eat—”

“Not at all,” he said, picking up a fork and heading over to sit in a nearby chair. “I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving.”

Sheridan blinked. After days of silence, he was planning to eat with her? He’d taken her to bed, made her feel things that excited and confused her and then when she’d been certain he was planning to do it again, he’d left her standing alone in the courtyard.

To say she didn’t understand him was an understatement.

“Wow, I’m being graced with your majestic presence for dinner? I’m honored.”

He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming. But not with anger. “You said you wanted to talk to me. Here I am. Talk. Bore me silly if you must.”

She folded her arms. “Perhaps I’m a sparkling conversationalist. Did you ever consider that?”

“It has not been my experience with most women, but perhaps you will be different.”

She told herself it would be unwise to throw a pillow at him. She chose instead to focus on one aspect of what he’d said. “Most women? Who has managed to please you conversationally?”

He took a bite of food, chewed and swallowed. She didn’t think he would answer her, but then he looked up again and speared her with his hot gaze. “My wife did,” he said. “Not always, it’s true. But often enough. She died five years ago, in case you were wondering.”

Her belly had tightened into a hot ball of nerves. Of all the things he could have said, she hadn’t seen that one coming. Her heart ached for him. “I’m sorry, Rashid.”

She didn’t know what else to say. To lose someone you loved had to be such a tragedy. And someone so young, too. No wonder he sometimes seemed cold and lonely. It made sense now.

He set the plate aside. “This is not something I speak of, but if we are to marry, I thought you should know it.”

Her throat was tight and her heart hammered in her stomach, her chest, her ears. “I appreciate you telling me. But I’m not certain marriage is the answer to our dilemma. Assuming there is one.”

He frowned. “This child has to be born legitimate, Sheridan. It is the only way.”

Panic bloomed inside her. She didn’t want to take away a child’s heritage, but she also didn’t want to have to marry a man she hardly knew. They had sexual chemistry, but what if that was all they had? How could she live a lifetime with a man who’d only married her to claim a child?

“I assume I have no say in this?”

“You would prefer options? Marry me and be this child’s mother, or go home after you give birth. Those are your options.”

She figured it was a good thing there were no weapons nearby. “Those aren’t options.”

His eyes flashed. “They are the ones you have.”

“I won’t leave my child.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. I might have thought so once, but no longer.”

Her head was beginning to ache. “And what brought about this blinding revelation?”

“Daoud tells me you’ve been playing with the puppies. Feeding them, taking care of them. And then there is my kitchen staff, Fatima and even the stable hands. They like you, and you like them. They all say how kind you are, how caring. Yet even without these things, there is this deed you set out to do for your sister. You are a giving person, Sheridan, but I don’t believe you are so giving as to leave your child in Kyr. You will stay.”

His words wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She liked Daoud, Fatima and the kitchen staff. To know they liked her, too, was touching. “There is every possibility I will go home tomorrow.”

“Yes, there is.”

Pain sliced into her at the thought. It confused her. She wanted to go home, wanted to go back to her life in Savannah, her business, her friends. She wanted her life the way it was before Rashid al-Hassan had walked into it.

And yet that thought filled her with despair. Never to see him again? Never to make love to him? He didn’t seem much bothered either way, and that hurt, too.

“All this talk of marriage is premature,” she said tightly.

“Is it? We will know tomorrow. If you are pregnant, things must be done quickly.”

“And you’ve already decided everything. Without asking me what I might want.”

It was just like him, of course. King Rashid acted. He did not consult a soul. He simply did what he deemed best. Just like when he’d scooped her up and brought her to Kyr against her will.

“I have told you your options.” His voice was smooth and even, as if he was explaining things to a child.

Anger wrapped long fingers around her throat and squeezed. “I still have Annie to consider. What about her?”

His expression grew hard. Hard and cold and unapproachable. “What about her?”

That was the moment when the bile in Sheridan’s stomach started swirling hard, pushing upward, demanding release. She got to her feet and staggered toward the bathroom. She barely made it in time, and then she was bending over the sink, retching.

There was a hand in her hair, holding it back. He put another hand on her back and rubbed gently while tears sprang to her eyes and she felt utterly miserable. She wanted to tell him to stop touching her, but in fact it felt nice to have him soothe her. She was a traitor even to herself.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” he said, his voice gentle for once. “But your sister cannot figure into my dynastic responsibilities. There are other solutions to her problem. You told me yourself about an experimental treatment.”

Sheridan put her hands on the counter, bracing herself, her eyes squeezed shut as she prayed there was nothing else left to come up.

“They can’t afford it,” she said miserably when she could speak.

“I can.”

Sheridan turned on the water and gulped some down before she straightened shakily and turned to face him. His beauty always hit her with a punch and now was no exception. A king had just held her hair while she’d thrown up the little bit of food she’d managed to eat.

If anyone had ever told her such a thing could happen, she’d have never believed them.

“You would do that for them?” Her heart was still pounding, but for a different reason now. It was everything she could have wanted for Annie. There were no guarantees the treatment would work, but it was a chance.

“I would not do it for them,” Rashid said very softly. “I would do it for you.”

* * *

Rashid watched her mouth fall open on a soft “oh” and was seized with a desire to claim her lips and take everything he desired. But she wasn’t feeling well, and he hadn’t come here for that anyway.