Page 46 of Hiding in the Sheik's Arms

Back at his hotel, he returned to the suite he’d rented for this trip. “I need…!”

He was alone! Where the hell was his staff? There was a deep, echoing silence in the room and Nathan looked around. It was even dark outside of the windows.

That’s when the lights inside went out. And then he felt it. The blows to his face and his abdomen were brutal and seemingly unending. Nathan tried to block them, but because they were coming from every direction, and he couldn’t see, he couldn’t anticipate where they would fall on his body. In the end, he dropped to the floor, curling up into a ball.

Eighteen hours later, Nathan hobbled down the long hallway of the airport terminal. His private jet had been forced to leave the airport, so Nathan had taken the first flight out of Lativa on a commercial flight. He’d even had to fly economy and, the only saving grace in this embarrassing debacle was that his face was so bruised and swollen that no one on the flight recognized him.

He remembered Tasha’s face when he’d first seen her in the hospital over a year ago. Thankfully, Nathan hadn’t been beaten so badly that he’d required medical attention, but his lip was split, his eye was purple and swollen shut, and there were bruises covering his back and abdomen.

Still, it wasn’t as bad as what he’d done to Tasha. He smiled faintly, thinking about that night. The bitch had done this to him. She’d somehow arranged for him to be beaten in retaliation for what he’d done to her.

Good job, bitch. Now, she was going down! He was going to humiliate her so badly, that old bastard she’d married would have to divorce her. He’d hire actors to talk about how they’d slept with Tasha and done things to her that not even a whore would allow.

“Senator King!” someone called out to him. Nathan lowered his head, not wanting to be recognized. Too late!

The quiet of the late night terminal was shattered by the crowd of reporters, who must have been alerted to his presence.

Trying to straighten, he pulled his jacket closer.

“Senator King, do you have any response to the video that was released this morning?”

Nathan froze, the fake story about how he’d tried to protect a woman from getting mugged to explain his bruises evaporated out of his mind. Videos? Had Tasha really done it? Nathan would have sworn that the bitch wouldn’t dare release the videos.

“Senator, any response to the promise of more videos to come?”

Holy hell! She’d done it! The bitch had truly done it! He was going tokillher! Right after he fixed this election!

Epilogue

Tasha waddled into Khal’s office, one hand supporting her belly as she tried to hand him the report.

“What’s wrong?” Khal demanded, standing up as he ignored the others in the conference room.

“Nothing,” she whispered, smiling up at him and trying to hide the small contractions happening in her belly.

Khal grumbled something, eyed her carefully, including her bulging belly, then glanced over at his guards. “Call the doctor. My wife is in labor!”

“No, I’m not,” she sighed as he pulled her into his arms, then leaned her head against his chest. He felt so good, strong, and comfy. Tasha just needed another moment like this, then she’d be okay. “I’m fine.”

The sound of a wheelchair rolling into the room behind her made her groan.

“Tash,” Khal whispered, then lifted her into his arms. “You’re going to have our son.”

“Not yet,” she protested, then gritted her teeth as she tried to hide the pain lashing at her. “It’s too early. I’m only thirty-seven weeks.”

“I don’t think that our son counted correctly,” he replied smoothly as he carefully set her down in the wheelchair.

Tasha knew that he was right, but…she was scared. No, terrified.

“You’re so strong my love,” he whispered into her ear in his grumbly voice that never failed to arouse her. Except for today. “I will be right by your side the whole time.”

“I know,” she replied.

“Plus, you hate being pregnant.” He rested a comforting hand on her belly.

“I do not!” she hissed back, glaring at him even though he was right. She’d wanted to be one of those women who loved being pregnant, who thrived and felt feminine and gorgeous. But she’d endured six months of nausea that had lasted all day long. As soon as the nausea had eased up, the heartburn had hit her. Hard! So, this pregnancy hadn’t been as fun as she’d hoped.

Khal stroked her belly again. “Just think,” he teased, lifting her into his arms and not grunting even a little at her extra weight, “by tomorrow morning, you will have a tiny babe in your arms instead of pressing against your internal organs.” He kissed her forehead where it rested against his shoulder. “No more pain. No more–”

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