Page 31 of The Sheikh's Secret Heir

In the midst of this reverie, my phone buzzes where it sits on the desk, a sudden interruption that sends my heart into a fluttering dance. It’s a text from Faiz, simple words on a screen saying he enjoyed seeing me last night. It’s nothing and everything all at once, warmth blooming in my chest and spreading tendrils ofjoy through my veins. I’m over the moon, feeling every bit the giddy schoolgirl with her first crush.

Same here, I type back, the letters small confessions under my fingertips. It’s ridiculous how two little syllables can feel so momentous.

His reply comes quickly, a gentle tease about my seriousness at dinner, suggesting I could use a break from the palace’s formality. My lips curve into a smile, unbidden and genuine. He’s seen through my professional façade, found the woman beneath who longs for moments just like these — light, flirty exchanges that hint at something more.

Perhaps you could recommend a suitable form of… distraction?I send back, my pulse quickening with the boldness of the message.

I’ll see what I can do,he answers.

There’s a weight to our words now, a recognition of the delicate game we’re playing. With each message, we step closer to a line neither of us is sure we should cross. But, oh, the temptation is fierce, a flame fanned by each coy interaction.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and glance back at the list of names needing their flu shots. It’s my anchor, pulling me back from the brink of daydreams, reminding me where I am — in the heart of the palace, with duties to fulfill. But even as I refocus on my task, the thrill of Faiz’s attention hums through me, a secret melody that promises more to come.

“Dr. Hague?”

Hamza’s voice slices through the gauzy curtain of my thoughts, and I start, having completely forgotten that I’d left my officedoor open. His shadow looms over my paperwork, his eyes sharp and probing.

“Your Highness,” I reply, schooling my features into neutrality. “How can I help you today?”

I glance at my phone on the desk, wanting to turn it over so that Hamza won’t see if a text from his brother comes in, but also knowing that will look suspicious. And while there’s nothing technically wrong with Faiz and I having a personal relationship, I’m not sure how he would feel about broadcasting our flirtations to his family. For now, it’s best to keep things on the down-low.

“Curiosity brings me here, mostly.” He leans against the doorframe, one eyebrow arched with an unsettling grace. “I saw my brother leaving your office last night, before dinner.”

My heart leaps into my throat. Why does the statement sound like a threat?

Hamza and I have always been friendly, but I already know that when it comes to Faiz it’s a different story. The two rarely talk, and when they do it’s not exactly brotherly in the way one would hope.

“Did you?” I feign nonchalance. “We had a brief discussion regarding the healthcare needs of the staff. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Of course,” he says slowly, a chess player contemplating his next move. “You’ve become quite indispensable to us here, Dr. Hague. But tell me, are you as close to all your patients?”

“Professionalism is my priority.” I meet his gaze, unflinching, though my pulse stutters.

I think of Ali, the boy with Faiz’s eyes who trusts me with bedtime stories and laughter. Hamza mustn’t see even a flicker of that truth on my face.

“Good to know,” Hamza replies, his tone cool but not convinced. With a curt nod, he withdraws, leaving a cold draft in his wake.

Exhaling, I gather my papers with trembling hands. The palace walls press in, and the light mood that I had just a few minutes ago dissipates.What if Hamza digs deeper?

I already suspect that he would go to almost any ends to usurp Faiz. Hamza wants to be first in line to the throne, which is traditionally given to the firstborn — Faiz, in this case.

Would Hamza try to break into Faiz’s palace? Send a spy? Or a detective?

The thought of a private investigator sifting through Faiz’s life is a deeply uncomfortable one. Yes, I want Ali to join the rest of the world, but not like that. Not through the meanness of a family at war with itself.

I finish up my work, unease twisting in my belly the whole while. Should I warn Faiz that Ali is snooping around? Maybe not. It could cause Faiz unnecessary worry, and he is already on guard enough as it is. Why bother him any more?

Done for the day, I gather my things and make my way out the door. Thinking again of Hamza, I check the lock on my office twice, not wanting to give him any opportunity to slip in and root through my things when I’m not here.

It’s a busy day in the palace, the sheikh and sheikha away on a political visit. This gives the housekeeping staff an opportunity to deep-clean. The maids are elbow-deep in soap or standingon ladders to dust shelves that are twelve feet above the floor. I think about lingering, but I know that beyond my job I don’t really have a place here, and so I head home.

In my apartment, I drop my keys in the bowl by the door, their clatter briefly filling the void before fading away. I move aimlessly through the living room, picking up and putting away things. There’s a restlessness in my bones, a nagging urge to do something, anything, to fill the afternoon.

Would it be strange if I asked Faiz if I might go over to his palace simply to hang out with Ali? The presents I bought him should have arrived by now, and it would warm my heart to see him enjoying them.

I don’t want to be overbearing, though. Yes, the relationship between me and Faiz is changing, becoming something larger and more vibrant, but I don’t want to force myself on him and Ali.

My gaze flits to the bookshelf, where spines of unread novels promise adventure and romance, but the thought of diving into someone else’s story feels vapid when my own is so uncertain. I consider turning on the TV, letting some mindless show drown out the quiet, but the screen looks cold, uninviting.

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