Pregnant by the Sheikh

Ya Ullah, had it been only an hour? She felt she’d known him, had been in this state of agitated excitement in his company, forever. It felt like days ago when she’d made her reckless request.

She’d more than half expected he’d shrug and move on. His immediate and unequivocal response had been the last thing she’d expected. And it had shocked the hell out of her.

But what else was new? Everything from the moment she’d laid eyes on him had been one shock after another. And here she was. In his suite. What she’d never done with any man. Not even the man she’d once married. She’d always met any man on her turf. She’d dictated the pace, the rules.

She hadn’t even thought of trying to impose those on Numair. Even when he’d made it clear he’d accommodate her every wish. It wasn’t because she needed his help or because he’d promised it. He was just...overriding. And for the first time in her life, she loved being swept away, not being in control of herself or the situation. Numair made what should have been a disconcerting experience, to someone as obsessive about autonomy as herself, exhilarating.

His hand once again burned her waist through her dress as he guided her through a succession of vestibules to a massive space hosting a sumptuous ten-seat dining table and a luxurious sitting area.

Stepping away from his electrifying touch, she sought the refuge of the grand piano at the far corner. Once behind it and taking in the whole scene with him at its center, she felt herself stumble out of the surreal state she’d plunged into.

Numair might have admitted her equal effect on him, but would he consider it equally her right to follow her instincts as it was his? She did trust him not to make any move she didn’t invite, but she suddenly didn’t trust he’d view this whole thing as she did. Could he be so progressive he wouldn’t hold it against her and change his treatment of her?

Well, if he wasn’t, it would be his loss, and she’d be well rid of him. As she had been of her ex.

Striving for an even tone, she asked, “Are you in New York to attend the reception?”

Those amazing emerald-like eyes of his glittered. “I wasn’t invited, no.”

“So you heard royals from your region were having an engagement celebration at your hotel and you simply decided to investigate?”

“Something like that.”

She’d have to be satisfied with that, because he didn’t seem about to elaborate. Not that it mattered why he happened to be there. What mattered was whether he could truly help her.

Before she could reintroduce the subject, he came around the piano. “I detect a severe drop in temperature since we entered the suite. Having second thoughts after all?”

His voice had deepened, calmed, as if soothing a skittish mare. He reached for her hand that lay fisted on the black, polished surface of the piano. His hand was big enough to lose hers in, tough enough it could pulverize brick. Yet the gentleness with which he coaxed her hand open, the consideration in his eyes as he surveyed her no doubt tense face, suddenly made her ashamed of her surge of doubt.

Squeezing her eyes in contrition, she groaned, “I guess I got a bit paranoid.”

He frowned. “Were you worried that your trust in me was unsubstantiated, and I’d do something against your will once I got you here?”

She shook her head vigorously, needing him to know this was something she’d never suspect. “Not that. I just worried you’d change your...attitude.”

“Like men usually do, once they think they’ve gotten their objectives and no longer need to hide their nasty natures and double-standard convictions?”

From the way his gorgeous lips thinned, she knew if such men crossed his path, they’d regret it for life. He did have that protector/punisher vibe going.

She wished he’d let this go but knew he wouldn’t. This man needed to know everything, to have a tight handle on every situation. He’d probe until she spilled everything that had crossed her mind in those moments of unease.

She sighed. “Men are like that to one degree or another in my experience, but mainly men from my region, yes.”

One dauntingly arched eyebrow rose. “Are all men chauvinists there?”

“Double standards are the general stance, perpetrated by women even more than men. Anyone, especially a woman, who dares flaunt cultural rules and restrictions becomes stigmatized, no matter how modern everyone looks on the surface.”

“Why did you fear I’d be like them? I was born in your region, but I was not raised there.”

“Indoctrination happens at a very early age. It takes very progressive families and especially mothers not to imprint their children with the worst of the culture. In general, men there are raised to have very cruel opinions of women whom they perceive as ‘loose.’”

“And you thought my early programming would resurface, and I’d judge you for coming up here with me?”

“It was a passing thought, okay? An ingrained reaction that really has nothing to do with you.”

“But it wasn’t ingrained in you because of the general state of affairs in your homeland. It was out of personal experience, wasn’t it?”

She’d been right. He wouldn’t rest until he had the whole truth. She sighed again. “How much do you know about me? You clearly investigated me before crashing the reception.”

He guided her to the nearest couch, pulled her down on it with him. “Investigations provide only broad lines that can be interpreted in different ways that can all turn out to be wrong. You tell me what’s accurate.”

Shuddering as his power and warmth encompassed her, she leaned against the dark brown velvet couch. She hoped she didn’t look as swooning as she felt as she gazed up at him.

“I am the very definition of loose in my region. From leaving my family at eighteen to live in another country, to supporting myself ever since, to making success and autonomy my life goal, to being a divorcée who hasn’t returned home in penance, seeking the shelter of her family and the forgiveness of society, I’m the cautionary tale mothers tell their little daughters. Anything bad that ever befell me is advertised as punishment for my sins.”

His expression hardened with her every word, until his face seemed to be hewn from granite. “Everything you just mentioned, everything you achieved and are, makes you only enterprising and powerful, a role model all women in and out of your region should aspire to emulate.”

She let loose an incredulous laugh. At his imperiously questioning look she explained, “It’s just funny to hear you say what my baby sisters always do. But they are incapable of being impartial when it comes to me.”

“I’m totally partial when it comes to you. I also happen to be absolutely right.”

She again barely stopped herself from doing something impulsive. That was, more so than coming up to this suite. Something like throwing herself against his massive chest and smothering him in kisses. Which she might end up doing soon. Exposure to him was chipping away at any control she had left.

Watching her with that intensity that compromised her will, he said, “Your sisters are astute young ladies for making you their role model. You’re the perfect one.”

She waved his words away. “Let’s not exaggerate, okay? I’d just die if they followed in some of my footsteps.”

“Why? You’re not proud of your achievements?”

“Those I’m proud of. I’m not proud of my mistakes.”

“What are those? A failed, short-lived marriage? You think that disqualifies you as an inspiration?”

“Catastrophic choices certainly do. In my bid for freedom and independence, I made more than one. Like marrying the first man who seemed to be the opposite of the chauvinistic men I was used to, and finding out very soon he had equally objectionable traits, only on the other side of the spectrum. But whether I deserved it or not, I was their role model, and I strove to fill my position. The one thing I mourned most about being forced to marry Hassan was that I could no longer be that to them.”

“You’ll always be what your sisters look up to.” He loomed over her as he sat up, his gaze seething with something she could only think was affront on her behalf. “Now tell me exactly how Hassan is forcing you into marriage. Leave out nothing.”

Taking a huge breath, she started explaining everything.

He listened, his focus on her so total, it made it hard to speak. But she did, and she left nothing out as he’d demanded.

His expression grew almost scary as he listened, but he remained silent even after she finished, until she started to vibrate with tension. What if, now that he knew the extent of Zafrana’s debts, he realized he couldn’t do anything for her and apologized for giving her false hope?

Then he finally spoke, his voice a blade. “I knew about the debts, but I didn’t know they were that crippling, or that the internal situation in Zafrana was that volatile.”

“Father wouldn’t have thought of asking me to do this for anything less.”

He raised his hand, his jaw muscles bunching. “Nothing is worth imposing on you in any way, let alone sacrificing you. He should have sacrificed himself.”

“He would have if it would have solved the problem.”

“He should have considered any measures but bartering you to that old goat.”

She burst out laughing. At his grim frown, she spluttered, “That’s exactly what I called him earlier this evening to Zeena.” At the growing thundercloud that gripped his face, she sobered. “What would you have done?”

“You don’t want to know.”

She gasped, for those five words painted a clear picture. This man was as deadly as she’d thought earlier, and not figuratively. He was no stranger to eliminating enemies. Even with his own hands.

Before she could process what kind of disaster she might have instigated by seeking his intervention, he demanded, “I need the specifics of those debts.”

She latched on to the relatively innocuous subject. “Of course. You need to know everything before deciding whether you can help, or even if you’d want to.”

He shot her one of those authoritatively reprimanding glances. “Those specifics have no bearing on my decision. That was final since the moment I gave you my word. They are only for devising the most effective attack.”

She shot up straight. “Attack?”

His eyes became icy emeralds. “There will be extreme measures employed in releasing Zafrana from Saraya’s shackles.”

Her heart hammered in dismay. “Define extreme.”

“Eliminating the problem at the source.”

“And how would you do that?”

“That’s my business.”

“Actually, it’s mine, too. Mine, mainly. I’m the one who asked for this, and if you’re going to do anything to...to hurt Hassan, I’d have to withdraw my request.”

“You care what happens to him?”

“No, but I don’t want him to meet with an unnatural end, either. For Saraya. For Najeeb. For peace’s sake.”

She thought his eyes flared at Najeeb’s mention, but he only said, “Peace is always achieved after a war. A war always comes with heavy losses.”

“I don’t want freedom that comes at such a price.”

“You think I’d kill him, don’t you?”

“You sure made it sound like that.”

“His demise can be easily arranged.” As she started to splutter in alarm, his lips twisted in a lethal smile. “But it just happens I’m not considering liquidating him. Just his chokehold over Zafrana, and with it, most of his assets.”

She held his gaze until she decided he was telling the truth, then collapsed back in relief. “For a moment there I thought I’d just signed Hassan’s death warrant.”

“It is the preferable, cleaner solution.” As her heart pounded again, he added, “But I won’t let him off that easy. Hassan’s actions deserve protracted punishment before I even consider granting him reprieve.”

“You still make it sound as if you’ll end up offing him!” When he only shrugged, she sat up again and threw her hands up in the air. “Ya Ullah...I can’t believe we’re sitting here haggling over the pros and cons of assassinating Hassan.”

“To off him or not to off him, that is the question.”

That, and his bedeviling expression, made her burst out laughing. “You fiend! You had me going there.” Melting back again, she grinned. “So what do you intend to do, for real?”

“Which part of that’s my business don’t you get? You made the demand, now sit back while I take care of it as I see fit.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”

“You’d never be anything but what you are, a princess whose demands must always be met.”

His over-the-top statements kept leaving her breathless, her lips tingling with the need to taste them at the origin.

But she still had to make sure of one thing. “If my requests are that important to you, promise you won’t go overboard. Just do enough to set me free, and hopefully set Zafrana back on the road to economic independence. I don’t want any fallout to hit my father or Zafrana. Or Saraya.”

He inclined his magnificent head, making her again wish he’d release his raven’s-wing silk from its imprisoning band. “I promise I will be surgical. My excisions will leave the whole region healthier. Just for you.”

Breath left her on a choppy exhalation. “You’re really going to do this.” She shook her head dazedly. “Wow...just give me a second to get my head around all of this.”

“Take all the time you need.” He did this heart-melting gesture again, reaching for a lock of her hair and rubbing it in utmost enjoyment between his fingers. “But you can start celebrating your restored freedom right now.”

Moved to the brink of tears, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she finally opened them, they’d filled her eyes, soaked her voice. “I need to apologize.”

He frowned. “Never apologize, not to me. But what do you think you should apologize for?”

“For what I thought when I first thought of asking you for this.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’d never do anything out of the goodness of your heart. That you don’t have one.”

A mirthless huff escaped him. “You were right. I don’t have one. Not in any humanly accepted sense.”

“From where I’m sitting, you have something better. I thought you’d never do anything for anyone without something of equal or more value in it for you, and I was wrong.”

“Maybe you should withdraw your apology. Since you weren’t wrong. I do want something.”

Her heart forgot to beat. “You do?”

“Yes.” He held her gaze in the snare of his. “An heir.”

Three

“An heir.”

Jen heard her voice as if coming from someone else. Reaching her ears from the end of a vortex of incomprehension.

The hypnosis in Numair’s gaze only intensified, as if he was compelling her to say what he wanted her to say.

Good luck with that. It was a miracle she’d been able to produce sound at all, to parrot him. After the agitated excitement of meeting him, the soaring hope that he’d restore her freedom, the release of all tension when she’d made sure he would, it hadn’t shocked her when he’d said that he had a price. What had flabbergasted her was the price itself. She couldn’t even process it.

He couldn’t have really said... “An heir?”

At her croaking question, without any change in his expression, he inclined his head. “Yes. An heir you’ll give me.”

Ya Ullah, he’d said it again. And this time he left no doubt who would provide him with said heir.

The expansive room started spinning, and the sick sensations that earlier had her in their grip crashed back on her. She pressed her head into the headrest, as if to stop the churning. “You’re not joking.”

“I’ve never been more serious.”

Feeling as if she’d fallen into a trap, nausea almost blinded her. “Why are you doing this?”

In response, he covered the space between them. Before she could think of scooting away, she found herself half draped over his great body, stunned by his sheer strength.

“Doing what?” His whisper fanned her face, and the fragrant, virile scent of his breath and flesh only made the room spin harder. She tried to fidget out of his embrace, but he had her head cradled in the nook of his arm, supported by his muscle-laden shoulder, and her face tilted to look up at him. “Being truthful about what I want? I thought you appreciated total honesty.”

“When did you decide you wanted it?” she whispered. “You can’t have come up with it when I asked you to help me.” She tried to shake her head and only felt the world spin again. He secured her tighter and her queasiness quieted. She moaned, in relief this time. “I thought you would have a price, but I never thought it could be something like that.”

“What did you think it would be? Yourself?”

Now that he’d said it out loud, it felt presumptuous for the idea to have crossed her mind. But given his apparent interest in her, it had been the only thing she could think of.

She’d thought the most he’d want would be a short affair, maybe only while he passed through New York this time. But she wouldn’t have considered that a price. It would have been a reward to be with the first and only man she’d wanted breathlessly on sight. In any other circumstances, she would have given anything to be with him, no matter how fleetingly. To have both him and her freedom would have been the most incredible opportunity of her life.

But it was clear she’d read the situation all wrong. No, she couldn’t read it at all.

This was totally incomprehensible.

A gentle finger below her chin tilted her face up to him, his brooding gaze capturing her wandering eyes. “I never bargain for sexual favors, and I certainly would never take advantage of a woman’s need in any other way.”

Now that he put it that way, she again felt silly for thinking what she had. This was a man who must have his pick of the rare beauties and celebrities of the world, and there was no way he’d ever paid for his pleasures. She couldn’t see a woman alive who wouldn’t react to him like she had, wouldn’t want him at any cost.

He went on. “I also never stomached passing liaisons, but I never had any desire for anything more. My life revolved around work and amassing wealth and power. Those were everything I wanted for as long as I can remember. Then recently, everything changed.”

Curiosity, and something poignant and more powerful—empathy—dragged her out of her confused dismay.

Had he suffered some recent life-changing crisis that made him take stock of his life, forced him to reassess his lifestyle?

She realized he was waiting for her to ask before he elaborated. So she forced her constricted throat to release the question. “What happened?”

“I hit forty, and it made me feel I need to rearrange my priorities and adjust my path. It never bothered me before that I have no family, and no one to leave my fortune and legacy to. Now it does.”

She gaped at him. This was again the last thing she’d expected he’d say. She’d expected a reason as unique and earth-shattering as he was. He was the last person on earth she would have believed could have a midlife crisis.

Maybe she’d read him wrong all along. Just like she’d been way off the mark in assessing what he’d want in return for helping her. But she still could think of no reason that he’d want an heir from her, of all women.

She put her bewilderment into words. “So you decided to join the human race after a lifetime of just dominating it. But now you feel the urge to perpetuate your genes. If you make your desire known, women would form lines spanning the globe for a chance to be the one to give you your heir.”

“I am making my desire known. To the only woman I ever considered for the role.”

Her confusion deepened. “Why would you consider me at all, let alone have me on a short list of one?”

“To borrow your earlier words, you’re kidding, right?”

“To borrow yours, I’ve never been more serious.”

He caught her chin between those powerful, roughened fingers. “How can you be? You’re here with me—” he gathered her tighter against his incredible heat and hardness, making her senses whirl harder, her every muscle liquefy even more “—in my arms, within an hour of meeting. You would have been there within minutes had we been in different circumstances. The attraction between us combusted the moment I stepped into that ballroom, and it’s been raging higher ever since.”

She still couldn’t believe she affected him as intensely as he did her. Even if she did, that wasn’t an acceptable explanation. “I can understand this would make you want me in your bed—”

He interrupted her. “And you would have considered that a fair price in return for my services?”

“Your services would have been circumstantial, since I would have come to your bed anyway, if you wanted me there.”

At her admission, his eyes simmered with a triumphant glow. Which was weird, really. Didn’t he already know any woman would throw herself at his feet, if only he would let her?

But it was clear her words didn’t only please him, they stoked his lust. The heat emanating from him rose, igniting her own higher, and the hardness below her became a steel shaft of discomfort digging into her thigh. Her core throbbed with an empty ache she’d only ever felt since he’d touched her.

She wanted to wind herself around him, to tell him to forget everything—her need for his services and his for an heir—and act on the need burning them up.

Instead, she said, “As I was saying, even if you wanted me on sight, that still doesn’t translate to considering me for the role of mother of your heir. From my vast experience with the obscenely rich and powerful, sexual desire is not even among the prerequisites in choosing who to procreate with. I’m sure a man like you has strict criteria for said role, and countless other women who’re better candidates for it than me.”

“I may be obscenely rich and powerful, but I already told you I care nothing about anyone’s rules. I make and follow my own.” Sensual appreciation weighed down his lids, filled his lips as his hand painted her from shoulders to buttocks in luxurious caresses. “But I do have extremely strict criteria in the mother of my heir. That’s why only you will do.”

“Why? Do I somehow fulfill more criteria than others?”

“You fulfill every single one, and others I didn’t even have till I met you.” He cupped her cheek hungrily, his gaze devouring her. “I want my heir to be born of the perfect woman.”

This made her snort. “Boy, are you barking up the wrong woman. I’m so far from perfect I’m in another galaxy.”

His fingers sank into her hair, gave a pleasurable tug at her nape. “You are perfect to me. Just like I, with all of my glaring flaws, am perfect to you.”

Her snort was more indelicate this time. “What glaring flaws? You are perfect, and would be so in anyone’s eyes.”

“Would I? That’s news to me, since both allies and foes consider me a monster.” Before she could object, he pressed on. “From what you know of the business world, you must know what it took to rise to my current status and to maintain it. You know I must be ruthless and remorseless, and that I don’t give a damn what the world thinks of me, and that nothing is beyond me. From our interactions so far, you must realize I’m dangerous, even deadly, and I can destroy anyone I decide deserves it, even kill them, without turning a hair.”

She stared at him. He’d put everything she’d felt about him in her bones into words. Everything that made him even more perfect to her.

She nodded slowly. “Instinctively, and logically, I know you’re all that.”

His lips spread in satisfaction. “All that makes me the opposite of perfect to everyone. Except for my partners, I’m someone to dread, or at most to appease, either in the hope of winning my favor or avoiding my danger. As for the women who pursue me, most risk it for the lure of said obscene power and wealth, and a few for the misguided fantasy of attempting to tame the most dangerous predator there is. But all fear me, and none trust me.” His arms squeezed her tighter into his containment, his eyes growing more possessive. “You’re the only one to ever see me for what I am, scales and claws and fangs and all, and instead of putting you off, everything about me is exactly what appeals to you. As you say in your region, I’m the one to yemla ainek—the one to ‘fill your eye.’”