Page 20 of The Sheikh's Secret Family

“Yes, sir,” Tariq teased, making the little boy laugh again.

“And do you like cheese pizza?” Owen continued.

“I love it,” Tariq agreed.

“With or without pineapple?”

“Without, obviously.”

“Oh good!” Owen twisted to smile at Emelia, then made a face at Tariq. “Mom likes pineapple. She’s crazy!”

Tariq made a face back. This was all going so much better than he’d expected. Emelia joined in by nudging Owen with her shoulder.

“Yum, pineapple!” she teased. Tariq gave a pretend shudder, which Owen copied.

“Okay,” Owen said, all-business again. “One more question. Can I call you dad?”

Tariq’s heart melted like a bar of chocolate on an Al Salyan sidewalk. At the same time, he felt a pinch of sadness. How had he lived for years without this sweet little boy? “Of course you can.”

“Thanks. Can we go now? I’m ready for the adventure.”

“That settles it,” Emelia said. “Let’s roll out. Tariq, I packed some clothes and some of Owen’s toys and things in those suitcases.” She pointed to two large suitcases and two backpacks leaning against the wall. “Do you mind helping me carry them downstairs?”

“Sure.”

They all pitched in, Owen carrying his backpack while Tariq and Emelia took the suitcases. Outside, Hamid was waiting by the car, a carefully neutral expression on his face.

“Emelia, Owen, this is my bodyguard, Hamid,” Tariq said. Emelia shook hands with Hamid, so of course Owen wanted to, too. Finally, Emelia and Owen got in the car, leaving Hamid and Tariq alone for a moment.

“Remember,” Tariq said, his voice low and serious. “Don’t tell anyone who they are.”

“I’m offended that you think you need to remind me,” Hamid said, his voice equally low.

Tariq nodded to him once, glad that Hamid understood the seriousness of the situation.

They both climbed into the car, but Tariq was distracted the whole way to the airport. He couldn’t wait to bring Emelia and Owen home to Al Salyah and give them both the life they deserved. At the same time, illegitimate families had often been shunned in the country, especially when they had anything to do with the royal family. Only a few of Tariq’s most trusted servants would know who Emelia and Owen really were. The rest wouldn’t know anything. Otherwise, a scandal could start that would hurt not only Tariq’s reputation, but Emelia and Owen’s too.

He would tell everyone eventually, of course, as long as they chose to stay. Hopefully, everything would work smoothly. The last thing Tariq wanted was for Emelia and Owen to feel unwelcome.

After a half-hour drive, they arrived at the private airport just outside of Boston. Hamid helped Tariq unload the bags while Owen jumped and danced around the parking lot, pointing out the airplanes to his mom. The little boy was a real bundle of energy, his brown eyes shining with enthusiasm. Tariq had been flying on private planes since he was a little boy himself, but some of Owen’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. By the time they had the bags out of the car and were on the way to the tarmac, Tariq was feeling positively excited about the trip.

A little unsure, Tariq fell into place beside Owen as they walked towards the jet. “I heard this was your first time flying,” he said.

Owen nodded. “Yep. But not my last. Did you know I’m going to be a pilot someday?”

Tariq exchanged a smile with Emelia. “I did hear something about that. A pilot is such a cool thing to be. Where are you going to fly?”

“Everywhere,” Owen said, sweeping his arm wide across the airport and almost hitting Tariq in the stomach. Tariq grinned. It seemed like Owen had picked up a touch of Emelia’s love of travel. “Do you fly, like, all the time?”

“Not all the time,” Tariq said. “I have an important job, so mostly I have to be at home.”

“What’s your job?” Owen asked, curious. Tariq glanced at Emelia and she shrugged, shooting him a small smile. Apparently, neither of them had thought to mention to their son what Tariq actually did.

“I’m a sheikh,” Tariq informed his son. “That means that I’m in charge of Al Salyah.”

“Like a president?” Owen asked.

“Yes, kind of like a president,” Tariq agreed. He expected more questions, perhaps about what kind of house Tariq lived in or whether he got to do anything fun as sheikh, but Owen was off on another topic.

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