Page 36 of Seduced By the Sheikh

She could feel the cool tears trickle down the sides of her face as they lay in silence, looking up at the ceiling, the heaviness of the revelation pressing down on them both.

She swallowed hard. “Do you think my father knows?”

“Yes. I think it highly unlikely my mother wouldn’t tell him.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

He sighed, rolled over, and faced her. “Habibti, you know what he’ll do.”

She gulped. “Then perhaps a better question is, what will you do?” She turned to him.

He frowned. “You’re crying,” he said, leaning over her. “You mustn’t cry.” He swept away the tears with his thumbs as he cradled her face. Trouble was, it only brought on more tears. The sob was wrenched from somewhere deep inside of her. “No,” he moaned, kissing her lips, even as she tried to tear herself away from him, ashamed at her weakness. She’d let no one see her cry before. In her family, weakness was exploited. And here, now, she couldn’t risk any more vulnerability.

She moved away from him, slipped out of bed, and walked over to the open window, her nightgown billowing in the evening breeze, cooling her heated body. She swiped away the tears and turned to him. She would deal with this like she dealt with everything—head-on and logically.

“We must talk this through. It’s obvious what needs to be done.”

“Not to me, it’s not,” said Zak. “Come back to bed.”

“No, not until we’ve sorted out what we’re going to do.”

“This is too complex to discuss now. Besides, it’s very late. I think we should wait until morning, find out what your father’s reaction is, and then work out a plan.”

Plan. That word held a wealth of possibilities—both hopeful and disastrous—and she didn’t know what possibilities he imagined in that word. The curtain flickered behind her, allowing more light into the room. She caught a glimpse of his exhausted face.

“Come back to bed, please,” he said. “And we’ll work things out in the morning.”

Work things out. A plan. They were all euphemisms for the same thing. She had to leave. To stay would bring ridicule and further isolation upon Sirun. But she had tonight. She returned to bed.

Silently, he brought her into his arms and kissed the damp tracks of her tears as he caressed her. Her body was attuned to his now, and she opened her legs to accommodate him. A single kiss on the lips—full of longing from both of them—was all it took to ignite her need for him, a need which was clearly reciprocated in him.

He didn’t hesitate, but slipped inside of her straight away. There was no need for more foreplay. Soraiya needed to connect with this man who’d become the center of her life, and who she loved with all her heart and who she feared she was about to lose. And he? She didn’t know what drove him. Maybe nothing more than physical satisfaction. Because there were no words, no particular tenderness, but an almost desperate need to reach a climax.

And when they did, they parted immediately. He had his arm around her still, and she lay on it, but didn’t snuggle into his chest as she usually did. She didn’t pull the covers over her but left them as they fell and turned away, looking outside at the dark sky, knowing it would be a long night.

CHAPTER 17

It was still dark when Soraiya rose and dressed, quietly packing the few things she needed to take with her. Zak had finally gotten to sleep in the early hours and as soon as he had, Soraiya knew it was time. She knew what she had to do, and she didn’t need Zak’s confirmation to make her do it.

Even though it was dawn by the time she reached the palace offices, there were a few people around, eager to work while the day was still cool. But she didn’t go to the offices immediately. Instead, she went to a secluded garden where she’d be left alone.

First, she checked her phone messages. She knew it was there. She’d heard the distinctive ring tone in the night. She closed her eyes as she listened to her father’s tirade.

She now had only one course of action. With a deep breath, she rang the airline. It didn’t take long. There was a flight leaving in a few hours and she arranged a taxi to collect her in half an hour.

After she’d finished her calls, she sat in the beautiful garden, wondering for a few moments whether she was doing the right thing. She didn’t think of herself. Her only thought was of Zak. And Sirun. And she couldn’t doubt that her absence would only benefit them. Zak might be temporarily sad, but ultimately he’d be relieved because she’d taken one enormous problem off his shoulders. Her.

But if she went to her father and persuaded him to still grant her the land, then she could return. Without it, Zak would have no option but to divorce her. Theirs had always been a business arrangement, and she’d broken her side of the bargain. The deal was now off.

She remained in the garden, not wanting Zak to find her. She couldn’t bear hearing him agree with her, and she equally couldn’t have born him arguing that she should stay. It wouldn’t change her decision, and would only make the scene more traumatic than it already was. Besides, she wouldn’t be alone. She caressed her stomach and imagined her baby growing inside of her. She’d provide for him. She’d make sure he was never short of anything—especially love.

“How far gone are you?”

Soraiya turned around, startled at the question. She’d thought she was alone, far from prying eyes. But it turned out she was wrong. On the other side of the courtyard, about to light a cigarette in her holder, Zak’s mother stood, swathed in exquisite clothes, hair done to perfection and makeup heavy. One of the cleaners must have told her. The woman had spies everywhere.

“What?” Soraiya could hardly think what she’d been asked, so shocked was she.

“I asked,” said Sheikha Alishaba, sucking on the cigarette before leaning against the doorjamb, one arm across her middle, supporting the hand which held the cigarette, “how far gone are you?” She patted her stomach. “I wondered when I saw you last night. You looked so wan. Not as you’d been described.”

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