Sarah And The Secret Sheikh

He lifted his chin and didn’t pretend not to see her as she made her way towards the bar...and him. ‘Good evening.’ The words growled out of him and she stopped a pace short of the bar. He could’ve bitten his tongue off for sounding so damned forbidding. He tried to inject a note of friendliness as he flipped a coaster onto the bar in front of the nearest stool and said, ‘Your usual?’

She eyed him warily as she slid onto the stool. ‘Just a lemonade, please.’

It might be a work night but that had never stopped her drinking before. Not that she ever got rollicking drunk. She’d once told him she drank in an effort to anaesthetise herself to the mind-numbing mundanity of her life. It had made all the sore places inside him ache.

Fellow feeling—that was what he and Sarah had shared from the first.

And attraction. At least on his part. It had been instant. And insistent. And it had had nothing to do with his covert—and not so covert—scheme to rid her of Superior Sebastian.

He set her lemonade in front of her. ‘Has Sebastian been giving you any trouble?’ Was she seeing him again?

She paused in the act of reaching for her drink. ‘Good God, no. Not since...’

Not since Majed had thrown him out of her apartment?

‘And good riddance to him.’ She drank deeply and then shot him a mischievous, if half-hearted, grin. ‘Sebastian who?’

He wished he could believe her. She deserved better than the likes of the Sebastians of this world. He took in her pallor, the dark circles under her eyes, and wondered how long it would take her to get over him. ‘You’re better off without him.’ Sebastian had never been worthy of her, had never appreciated her the way she ought to be appreciated.

‘I know.’

He could almost believe her...

‘Look, Majed, I didn’t come here to talk about Sebastian. I—’

She broke off to bite her lip. Something in Majed’s gut coiled at the way her gaze slid away, at the way she compulsively jiggled her straw in her drink. ‘What have you come here to talk about?’

She glanced around the room. It was a quiet night but there were still a dozen people in the bar. ‘It’s not the time or place. I was hoping to talk to you once you’d closed. Or...some other time when you’re free.’

He didn’t want to be alone with her. He folded his arms. His right foot started to tap. ‘Can’t you just tell me now?’

She stopped jiggling her straw to fix him with a glare. ‘No. You deserve more respect than that. And so do I.’

Her gaze slid away. Again. She had a lock of hair that always fell forward onto her face. She’d push it back behind her ear, but it would always work its way free again. Majed held his breath and waited... He didn’t release it until it had fallen forward to brush across her cheek. That silly, defiant, joyful lock of hair could always make him smile.

Stop it!

He continued to gaze at her. She didn’t look like other women. At least, not to him. Which made no sense at all because, of course, she looked like a woman. And while she wasn’t stunningly beautiful, she drew his gaze again and again. He found her...lovely.

Her hair was neither gold nor brown, her skin was neither fair nor olive, and it had taken him a while before he’d realised her eyes were a clear brilliant blue, but once he had he couldn’t forget them. Her features were regular, though some might claim her mouth was too wide, but nothing about Sarah immediately stood out. Not physically. Except... She exuded warmth, as if she housed her own internal sun, and everything about her made his fingers ache to reach out and touch her. He had to fight the urge now, and the effort made his muscles burn.

But... There was something in the set of her shoulders.

It hit him then, why she was here, and his hands slammed to his hips. Her eyes caught the movement...followed it... The pink of her tongue snaked out to moisten her full bottom lip and he went hot all over. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ve lost another job.’

His rasped accusation had her gaze spearing back to his but the heat continued to circle in his blood. Her cheeks went pink but, whether at the accuracy of his accusation or the fact he’d caught her staring, he didn’t know.

‘Well, yes.’ One shoulder lifted. ‘But that’s not what I came to talk about either.’

No?

She stared down her nose at him. ‘Mike told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he? He told you to give me a job if I needed one.’

He had, but Majed had no intention of admitting as much.

‘Don’t worry, Majed, I haven’t come to beg you for a job.’

He gave thanks for that mercy. If he had to work with her day in and day out, he didn’t know how he’d manage to keep from touching her.

‘Mike asked me to look out for you too, you know?’

He jerked upright. ‘I don’t need looking out for.’

A smile hovered at the corners of her lips. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You’re an island unto yourself.’

That was exactly what he had to become if he was to ever return to Keddah Jaleel, and the fact she found the idea so nonsensical irked him. Sarah was more than happy to tell anyone who’d listen that she was a complete flake, but she had a perspicacity that was remarkable in its accuracy.

‘I don’t need looking after either, despite appearances to the contrary. I might be a flake...’

There she went, putting herself down.

‘But I’m an independent flake.’

‘I don’t consider you a flake at all.’

She gave a short laugh. ‘I’m going to ask you to hold that thought in the forefront of your mind when we have our conversation.’

What on earth had she come here to discuss?

He stiffened. Was she leaving Melbourne? Had he somehow left her feeling that she had to leave?

Damn it all to hell!

He strode into the middle of the room and clapped his hands together. ‘Excuse me, everyone, but something has come up and I need to close early. Can I ask you all to finish your drinks and leave?’

When he’d locked the door behind the last customer he spun to face Sarah. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

She stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her trousers. ‘I think you should come and take a seat and—’

‘Stop fudging! Don’t delay any longer, Sarah. Out with it.’

‘Fine!’ She folded her arms and stuck out a hip. She swallowed but lifted her chin. ‘I’m pregnant.’

For a moment her words made no sense. He even momentarily revelled in the relief that she wasn’t planning to leave Melbourne. ‘You’re—’ he rubbed his nape ‘—pregnant?’

She nodded. ‘That’s right.’

‘And...?’

She flopped down to her stool. She lifted her arms and then let them drop back into her lap. Her mouth trembled and her eyes were full of fear, sadness, tears and, strangely, some laughter. Her eyes contained the entire world. ‘And the baby is yours, Majed.’

CHAPTER TWO

THE SHOCK OF brandy hitting the back of his throat had Majed jolting back to himself. It was only then he realised Sarah had pushed him into a chair, had poured him a snifter of brandy and was urging him to drink it.

He did what she demanded because he was at a loss to know what else to do. She was having his child!

‘I know it’s a shock.’ Sarah moved to the chair opposite. ‘And I didn’t mean to blurt it out quite so baldly.’

But he’d ordered her to.

Heat scored through him, followed by a wave of ice. He stared at her. Was she okay? It didn’t matter what kind of shock he might be experiencing, it had to be far worse for her. Physically he was exactly the same as he’d been before she’d told him the news. But, regardless of what decision she made, Sarah would never be the same again. He had to focus on what she needed from him—and do his best to provide it.

She was pregnant with his child!

He opened his mouth but before he could speak she said, ‘I understand your reservations concerning the baby’s paternity.’

She thought his silence indicated that he didn’t believe her?

She’d lied about instigating the break-up with Superior Sebastian.

She wouldn’t lie about something as big as this.

‘Sarah—’

‘Please, just let me explain. It’s taken me this long to screw up my courage and now that I’ve started I’d... I’d rather just keep going.’

He gave a terse nod, hating the thought that she’d been afraid to tell him her news.

‘So, the thing is...’ She drew a loop of circles in the condensation of her glass. ‘Sebastian had mumps when he was fifteen, which means the likelihood of him being able to father children is pretty slim. But, besides that—’

She broke off to stare at her hands. He reached out and wrapped one of his hands around both of hers. She had such small hands, and every protective instinct he had surged to the fore. ‘Don’t be frightened of me, Sarah. I’m not angry. Just stunned.’ He made his voice as gentle as he could. ‘I want to help in any way I can.’

Her lips trembled. ‘That’s lovely of you.’

‘You’ve had a lot to bear on your own. I want you to know you’re not alone now.’ She was having his child! He forced himself to swallow. ‘What were you saying about Sebastian?’

‘Oh.’ Her lips twisted. ‘Before we broke up...for the two months before we broke up... Sebastian and I...’

‘Yes?’

She disengaged her hand from his to rub her nape. ‘We hadn’t been intimate.’

He’d always known the man had rocks in his head. This simply confirmed it.

‘I don’t doubt your word.’

The little moue she made informed him she didn’t entirely believe him. ‘We’ll have a paternity test done to put your mind at rest. If I decide to keep the baby.’

If. His heart clenched at the word, though he wasn’t sure why. A child was the last thing he’d expected at this point in his life. It should be the last thing he wanted.

But the ultimate decision rested with Sarah. It was her body and he’d support her whatever she decided to do.

‘Are you and the baby healthy?’

‘The doctor says so.’

‘You’ve been to see a doctor? That’s good.’

She frowned. ‘You’re taking this very calmly.’

Inside he was a mass of conflicting emotions but he refused to reveal them. ‘We’re in this together. I want you to know you’re not alone. Between us we’ll sort it out.’

Her mouth opened but no words emerged.

‘Have you eaten this evening?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I haven’t had much of an appetite.’

He rose and took her hand. ‘Come, I’ll make you an omelette.’

He switched off the lights to the bar and led her upstairs to the flat above.

‘You can cook?’ she asked when he’d seated her at the breakfast bar of his open-plan kitchen-dining-living room.

‘I make omelettes that are out of this world.’

She glanced around and he wondered what she made of his bachelor pad. ‘An omelette sounds kinda nice.’

It wasn’t until Majed pulled the eggs from the fridge that he remembered pregnant women were supposed to avoid certain foods. What about eggs? He swung back. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’

He sped into the bathroom and pulled his phone from his pocket to open his web browser. He typed in his query and then read down the list of foods that pregnant women shouldn’t eat. Right—the eggs shouldn’t be runny. Okay, he’d cook the omelette a little longer than usual... Actually, he might cook it a lot longer than usual, just to be on the safe side. Hard cheeses like cheddar were fine too. Right. He snapped his phone shut. He’d keep it simple with a plain cheese omelette. Well cooked.

* * *

Sarah tried to find some trace of Majed in his flat—in his furniture and in the décor—but... Well, it was all very comfortable and commendably tidy, but something was missing, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

‘What do you think of the place?’

She glanced around from the window that overlooked the busy inner-city Melbourne street to find Majed surveying her from the doorway. And just like that her heart started to jackhammer. ‘It’s nice.’ She ignored his raised eyebrow to add, ‘I’ve always been curious to see up here.’

He stared at her for a bit longer. ‘The bathroom is just down the hall on the left.’ He pointed back behind him. ‘And the bedroom is at the end of the hall. Feel free to take a look.’

‘Oh, no, I’m all good.’ She couldn’t invade his privacy that much.

She slid onto her stool again when he started clattering pots and pans and whisking eggs. She knew they were skirting around the main topic of conversation but...dear Lord...the shock on his face when he’d finally realised what she’d been trying to tell him. It made her stomach churn just remembering it. She wanted to give him a chance to get a little more used to the idea before they launched into a discussion about what they would do.

Frankly, she had no idea what that might be.

He moved with easy grace in his compact kitchen and it was no hardship to watch him rather than make small talk...or think. He started to slide her omelette onto a plate, and then jerked, as if he’d burned himself. His gaze speared hers before he seemed to recall himself and finished serving her food.

She stared at the plate he pushed in front of her and had to fight a frown. This did not look like an out-of-this-world omelette—it looked flat and rubbery. And brown. Her stomach gave a sick little squeeze but she gamely forked in a mouthful. He had gone to all the trouble of making it for her.

His hands went to his hips as he watched her eat. It only made her stomach churn harder. She set her fork down. ‘What?’

‘Did you lose your job because you’re pregnant? They cannot fire you for being pregnant.’

She picked up her fork again. ‘True. But apparently they can fire me for calling the manager a weasel of a bully who’s nothing more than a boil on the backside of the universe that’s in dire need of lancing.’

He choked. ‘You didn’t?’

‘I did. And I can’t begin to tell you how utterly satisfying it was.’ But now she had no job. And she had a baby on the way. Could her timing have been any worse? Talk about irresponsible!

She blew out a breath. She was such a screw-up.

Just ask Sebastian.

Just ask her mother!

‘Eat your omelette,’ Majed ordered.

She didn’t know if it was her self-recriminations, or if the eggs hadn’t agreed with her, but she only just made it to the bathroom before losing the contents of her stomach. Majed held her hair back from her face while she was sick. He pressed a cool, damp cloth to her forehead, and through it all she wished she felt well enough to feel even a modicum of embarrassment.

Eventually she closed the lid of the toilet and sat on top of it. The concern in Majed’s face caught at her. She tried to find a smile. ‘Did you know that morning sickness is a misnomer? Apparently it can happen at any time of the day.’

‘It’s...wrong!’

‘It’s certainly unpleasant.’ But her legs finally felt steady enough to hold her so she rose and rinsed out her mouth. ‘Majed, I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’m feeling beat and—’

The rest of her words stuttered to a halt when he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. ‘You need to rest, habibi. It’s been a difficult day for you. Sharing with me your news has been nerve-racking, yes? We have time yet to talk and make decisions.’ As he spoke, he carried her down the short hallway to his bedroom. Very gently, he lowered her to the bed. She had an impression of vast luxury and comfort and had to bite her lip to prevent a sigh of pure bliss escaping as softness enveloped her.

‘I shouldn’t—’

‘Of course you should.’ He pulled off her shoes.

‘Maybe just a little rest,’ she murmured as he pulled the covers over her.

‘Rest for as long as you like,’ he murmured back.

‘Majed?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did that word mean—“habibi”?’

‘It’s a term of endearment...like “sweetheart”.’

A sigh fluttered out of her. She suspected it would be rather lovely to be his sweetheart for real.

* * *

Sarah woke as the first fingers of dawn filtered through the curtains of Majed’s bedroom windows. She lay still and listened intently but couldn’t sense any signs of movement throughout the rest of the flat. Very quietly, she pushed back the bedclothes and tiptoed into the living room to find Majed sprawled across the sofa that barely contained his bulk, fast asleep.

Most people when they slept looked unguarded, younger...vulnerable. Not Majed. If anything he looked slightly forbidding and stern. It suddenly struck her that the easy-going façade he assumed every day at the bar might be exactly that—a front.

Or maybe your news has given him unpleasant dreams.

She scratched her hands through her hair. How long had he sat up last night, churning over her news? She’d had a few extra days to get used to the idea. Yesterday evening her sleepless nights had finally caught up with her. She felt rested and well now, though, and she didn’t have the heart to wake him.

A shiver shook through her. When she got right down to it, how well did she know Majed? Barely at all. She had no idea if he wanted a child. She gripped her hands together. For all she knew, he might welcome a child with unbridled enthusiasm. Or the idea of fatherhood might be a total anathema to him. Surely one should know these things about a man before becoming pregnant by him?

Your mother didn’t.

Perhaps not, but she didn’t intend to take her parents as role models. They’d spent her entire childhood using her as a pawn in their war to score points off each other. That was the only thing she was certain of—that she wouldn’t do that to any child of hers. If she had this baby she’d do her best to ensure its childhood was happy and carefree—not a battleground.

If.

Slipping onto a chair at the dining table, she lifted her feet to the seat and hugged her knees. She and Majed had to decide what to do about this baby and she had no idea where to start.

A pen and notepad rested in the middle of the table. She pulled them towards her with the thought of writing a list of pros and cons. She’d start with the cons, because there were so many: the pregnancy was unplanned, she was unemployed, so how would she support not just herself but a baby as well? Her mother would have a fit and there’d be no end to the recriminations. Her father would take the opposite stance and think an unplanned pregnancy was an inspired idea. She was only twenty-six—there was plenty of time yet before she needed to start thinking about having children. She was a total screw-up and surely a child deserved better than that for a parent?

There’d be more cons—lots more—but the length of the list had started to dishearten her. She needed something in the pros column to balance it out...just a little bit.

She stared at the page and bit her lip. There had to be one reason to keep this baby. A solid logical reason that made perfect sense. Her throat ached. The page in front of her blurred. She reached out and wrote a single sentence:

I love this baby already.

She stared at the words she’d just written and blinked hard. She did love this baby, but was it enough? A child deserved a better home than Sarah could give it. But, no matter how much she might wish to, she couldn’t draw a line through that single entry on her ‘pros’ list.

Perhaps she should try a different tack and list all of the options available to her instead. Biting back a sigh, she turned the page...only to find that Majed had made a list of his own. Her heart started to pound. Would it be an invasion of privacy to read his list?

Invasion or not, she had no hope of stopping herself.

At the top of the page in bald, ugly print he’d written a single word: abortion.

She couldn’t stop herself from flinching, even though it had been the first option that had occurred to her too. Even though it was an option she was still considering.

Beneath that he’d written: adoption. She swallowed. Did she have the strength for that? If she loved this baby then wouldn’t she want the very best for it? Wouldn’t she fight to give it the very best, regardless of the cost to her personally?

She froze when she realised that was exactly what she’d do. She loved this baby. All she had to work out now was what would be in the baby’s best interests.

She pulled Majed’s list back towards her. Two hard, dark lines separated those first two items from the rest of his list. Pulling in a breath, she read on...

* * *

Majed watched Sarah’s eyes widen as she read down the list he’d made. He knew when she’d reached the end of the list because it wasn’t possible for her eyes to go any wider.

She glanced across at him and saw him watching her. Something arced in the air between them before she gave him a brave little smile that cracked open something in his chest and started up an ache that he feared would never go away.

He couldn’t afford to fall in love with this woman. He couldn’t afford to fall in love with anyone. Love clouded one’s judgement. And when one’s judgement was clouded it put the people one cared about at risk.

He couldn’t fall in love with Sarah, but he could look after her.

‘Good morning,’ she whispered.

Her voice emerged on a rasp, as if her throat was dry, and he threw off his blanket, rose and strode to the kitchen. ‘Let me get you something hot to drink. You should’ve helped yourself.’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’

He came back with glasses of apple juice and steaming mugs of herbal tea. His body cried out for strong black coffee but, if Sarah was avoiding caffeine the way most pregnant women he knew did, then it would be cruel to drink it in front of her.

He nodded at his list. ‘I tried to cover every possible option I could think of. Are there any you’ve thought of that I’ve missed?’

She shook her head and sipped her tea. He watched carefully for any signs of nausea but she merely closed her eyes and inhaled the steam as if welcoming the warmth into her body. Her clothes looked rumpled from having been slept in, and she had bed hair, but beneath all of that a vitality and vibrancy that had been lacking yesterday had started to emerge.

‘You’ve thought of things that hadn’t occurred to me.’ She pointed to the very last item on the list. ‘That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?’

He shrugged but his gut tightened. ‘My purpose was to list every option I could think of, without making value judgements.’

He’d spent a lot of time in the West. Four years in the UK at Oxford University with trips to the USA in the summer breaks. For the last four years, he’d worked in Australia. But he’d grown up in Keddah Jaleel—a world of ancient tradition, arranged marriages and duty. He knew exactly what his family would expect of him in this situation.

He had no intention of forcing those expectations onto Sarah but...

‘I want you to know that whichever one of those options you settle on, whichever you deem is in your and the baby’s best interests, I’ll support you one-hundred percent.’ He didn’t want her to doubt that for a moment.

She set her mug down, a deep furrow marring her brow.

‘What?’

‘Your happiness is just as important as mine.’

He didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t say that out loud, though. It was a sentiment that would horrify her. He nodded at the list. ‘None of those options make me unhappy.’

Her raised eyebrow told him she didn’t believe him. She pointed towards the top of the list. ‘This line here is rather dark. It looks angry. Does that mean you hate the idea of abortion and adoption?’

He tried to keep his face unreadable. ‘I’ve no ethical objection to either. It’s just...’ He reached out and wrapped her hand in his. ‘It’s just, I don’t dare care for the life growing inside you if those are the routes you’re considering.’

She stared at him with such intensity his mouth went dry. The pulse at the base of her throat pounded and he could feel an answering throb start up at the centre of him.