Page 32 of The Sheikh's Secret Heir

I’m a homebody, always have been. Yet now, with the walls closing in, I toy with the idea of going out into the city’s vibrant pulse. But to where? A café filled with couples and laughter? A park where families play and share picnics? It all rings false, a backdrop where I’d only feel more alone.

Instead, I find myself curling up in the window seat, knees drawn to my chest, staring out at the world from behind the safety of glass. My phone lights up with another message fromFaiz, and my heart leaps in response, betraying the calm façade I’ve tried to maintain.

We are having a small pool party here tomorrow,the text reads.We would be delighted if you would join us.

And there it is — exactly what I want. I don’t crave the city, don’t crave excitement. I want close intimacies, enjoyment found at home.

I want Faiz and Ali.

We’re dancing around each other, Faiz and I, our steps careful but charged with an energy that refuses to be ignored. My crush on him is growing, spreading roots deep within me, entwining with every beat of my heart. I want him — more than I’ve allowed myself to admit until now.

But with desire comes fear, a trepidation that coils tight in my belly. What we’re building is fragile, hidden away like a precious gem — or a scandal waiting to burst forth. I know I can’t walk away; the pull toward him is too strong, too vital.

I would love to come, I write back.Can’t wait.

My heartbeat settles into a staccato rhythm as the message sends. It isn’t long before my phone pings with his response.

That is wonderful to hear, Dr. Hague.

His formality makes me smile. He’s being playful now, since he hasn’t called me Dr. Hague since I started working directly for him.

The duality of his nature enchants me — his gruff exterior and the hidden depths of vulnerability. He’s like a puzzle that beckons to be solved, promising a rare treasure within.

Settling into the couch cushions, I decide to keep Hamza’s prying questions to myself. Faiz is already careful enough, and I don’t want to worry him. Let Hamza do his best; he has nothing to go on anyway.

Meanwhile, Faiz and I — and Ali, too — will continue on in our happy little bubble. Just as it should be.

CHAPTER 17

FAIZ

Itie off another ballon — vibrant blue — and hand it to Ali, who giggles with delight as he adds it to the garland across the patio that we’ve been threading since late this morning. The staff, a small group of loyal souls who’ve become like family, flutter around us, draping streamers and setting tables.

“Looks like a festival,” I murmur, and Ali beams at me.

“Best party ever!” he declares with the conviction only a six-year-old can muster.

Instantly, I smile at his enthusiasm, though a part of me is aware that today isn’t just for him. It’s an excuse to see Tara again.

The thought of her sends a wave of anticipation through me. She’s been on my mind nonstop since I last saw her, haunting both my dreams and waking thoughts.

As much as I’d like to sit around and daydream about her all morning, I shake the fantasies off, focusing instead on making sure the swimming pool is clean and ready to go and there’s plenty of ice in the coolers. It’s a small party, but the kind of thing we rarely do, and so I’ve gone all out.

There’s even an inflatable slide, installed right by the pool’s edge, promising screams of delight and hours of fun. And I hope, in the midst of all this fun, I might snag a few quiet moments with Tara.

Will she wear that sundress again? The one that hugs her hips just right? I chuckle at myself, sounding more like a schoolboy than a royal heir. But that’s what Tara does to me. She disarms me, makes my heart flutter like a kid with his first crush.

I hear laughter and turn around, finding Ali already bouncing with joy on the inflated slide. His joy is infectious, and I join in his laughter. It feels good to laugh, to forget about the secrets and lies, even for a little while. It feels good to be where everything is just sunshine, laughter and the scent of grilling food in the air.

“Come on, Baba!” Ali yells, urging me to join him on the slide.

I look skeptically at the bright plastic contraption, knowing that it can of course hold me, but still feeling somewhat apprehensive about making a total fool of myself. But Ali’s big brown eyes are pleading, innocent and full of expectation. It’s a concoction that tugs at my heart.

Before I know it, laughter bubbling through my chest, I’m climbing up the slide next to him, my expensive slacks becoming a casualty to childish delight and recklessness. Ali’s cheer ricochets around us as I awkwardly perch at the top of the slide, a grown man in a child’s wonderland.

“One… two… three!” Ali counts, his eyes sparkling with joy as he tumbles down the slide, his laughter a sweet melody that lingers in the air. I follow behind him, the cool splash of water hitting me like an adrenaline rush.

Soaked and breathless from the laughter, we climb out of the pool. “Now I need to go change,” I laugh.

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