Brenda Jackson - Sleeping with the Sheikh - The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior

She sighed. “I know. But when he was almost three, he climbed up on a fence rung and fell backward. He seemed to be okay, but then the next morning he complained about his shoulder. I took him to the doctor and found out he’d broken his collarbone. I should’ve taken him that night.”

Sam tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “It was a simple mistake, Andrea. It does not mean that you don’t care for him.”

“I realize that, but I felt horrible, like a bad mother.”

“You are a wonderful mother,” Sam said adamantly. “I could not have picked a better mother for my child.”

She touched her lips to his cheek, stirring his body and his soul. “Thanks.” After studying him a long moment, she said, “Now tell me what’s bugging you.”

Sam should be surprised that she so easily saw through him, but he wasn’t. It seemed that over the past week they had become totally tuned in to each other’s moods, each other’s needs. Perhaps it had always been that way. Perhaps it always would.

“I’m afraid I have some less-than-satisfactory news.”

Andrea’s frame stiffened in his arms. “What is it?”

“I spoke with my father earlier today. I must return to Barak on Thursday.”

“You weren’t supposed to leave until Sunday.” She stared at him with fire and frustration in her eyes. “So he snaps his fingers and you come running. Wish I knew his secret.”

“It is complicated, Andrea. I do not have the luxury of coming and going as I please.”

She slid off his lap and claimed the place at the end of the sofa. “I’m sorry for you, Sam. It must be awful to have that kind of burden, to not have free will.”

Anger gripped Sam and he struggled to temper his fury. “I have free will. I also have responsibilities.”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I know, I know. But what about your responsibility to your child? You’ve barely spent any time with him. Is this what he’ll have to count on in the future, a father who may or may not come to see him?”

Sam sat forward and lowered his head. “I have been considering that. I can only promise that I will try to be here as much as possible.”

Andrea sighed. “We don’t have much time to decide when to tell him, do we?”

They had little time to be together, as well. “No, we do not.”

Andrea rose from the sofa. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Sam stood. “What time will we leave tomorrow morning to pick up Chance?”

She folded her arms across her breasts and faced him. “Not we, Sam. You.”

He frowned. “I do not understand.”

“I’ve decided you should pick him up by yourself. That way you can have time alone with him to get to know him.”

“But you—”

“I’ll see him when you get back. Besides, I’ll have him with me for the rest of my life. You, on the other hand, have very little time.”

Sam realized the difficulty of her decision and the heartache he was causing her. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Do you wish me to tell him—”

“No, I don’t want you to say anything about you being his father. I think I should be there.”

“I will honor your request.”

She started toward the stairs. “Good night, Sam.”

“I will join you in a few moments.”

She turned to him once again. “I’d like to sleep alone tonight. I’m exhausted.”

In her own way she was already preparing to let him go, that much Sam knew. “I will do what you ask, Andrea, but I would like to spend this last night with you, before Chance returns.”

“It’s okay, Sam,” she said in a weary tone. “We’ve both known all along this wasn’t forever. Might as well end it now.”

He wanted to shout that he wanted no part of this ending, that he wanted to forever be by her side, in her bed, in her life. Instead he turned his back and said, “I wish you pleasant dreams, Andrea.”

Her sharp, mirthless laugh stopped him cold. “I don’t believe in dreams, Sam. Not anymore.”

“Where on earth are they?” Andi paced the length of the kitchen as she stared at the clock that read 3:00 p.m. Long past time for Sam and Chance’s arrival home from the camp.

“Maybe they stopped off for some lunch,” Tess offered as she poured her and Riley another glass of tea at the table.

“I packed them a lunch,” Andi responded, unable to keep the panic from her voice. “I wanted to make sure Chance has the right things to eat.”

“I’m sure they just stopped off for a picnic, then,” Riley said. “Sam seems like a fairly responsible guy.”

Andi spun around to face the pair. “Yeah, that’s how he seems, but how well do we really know him?”

Tess frowned. “Andi, you’re talking nonsense. This is Sam, the boy who practically lived here for four years. The same one who worked on the barn for the past two weeks like some hired hand.”

“He’s changed, Tess. He’s not the same. What if he’s decided to go to the airport and just keep going from there? What if he takes Chance back to his country?”

Tess rose from the kitchen table and took Andi by both arms. “Just listen to yourself, Andi. You’re not making any sense. Sam promised he wouldn’t try something like that.”

“He promised a lot of things, Tess, and he didn’t keep those promises, either. How can I trust that he won’t do the same thing again?”

Tess narrowed her eyes and studied Andi dead-on. “Trust your heart, Andi.”

Andi didn’t dare. She’d done that before only to be crushed in the process.

The shrill of the phone caused Andi to jump. Pushing away from Tess, she grabbed it on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Could I please speak to Ms. Andrea Hamilton,” a soft feminine voice asked.

Frustrated that it wasn’t Sam, Andrea sighed. She didn’t need home repairs or a magazine subscription. “That depends on who you are.”

“I’m Mrs. Murphy with the hospital in Lexington, and I’m calling concerning your son.”

Sheer panic pierced through Andi’s momentary shock. “Has there been an accident?”

Tess quickly came to Andi’s side as the woman continued to speak. “No, no accident. A Mr. Yaman brought Chance in. The boy’s blood sugar is low.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s in the E.R. being examined now. Mr. Yaman asked if I would notify you.”

“I’m on my way.” Andi hung up without saying goodbye and grabbed her keys from the hook by the back door. “Chance is at the hospital,” she called to Tess on her way out.

“Let me drive you, Andi,” Tess said at the door while Andi crossed the yard to the pickup.

“I’ll call you.”

“Andi, are you sure?”

She dismissed Tess with a wave. “I’m fine.”

But was Chance?

Andi managed the thirty-mile drive in record time. She rushed into the emergency room barking inquiries to anyone who would listen. Finally one nurse directed her to a curtained cubicle down a narrow corridor.

Stepping inside, Andi stopped short at the scene playing out before her. Among the all-too-familiar sterile scents and scenery, Sam was stretched out in the small hospital bed, Chance curled against his side with his face turned in profile as his head rested against his father’s solid chest.

Andi covered her mouth to stifle a sob when she caught sight of the IV tubing trailing from Chance’s slender arm. But she couldn’t hold back the emotions when she noted how natural they looked—one beautiful man with his large hand enfolding the equally beautiful child’s smaller one, an overt display of protection. The identical dark hair, the dark lashes fanned against their cheeks as they slept, presented a picture of peace that starkly contrasted with the colorless surroundings.