Giving the Sheikh a Love Child: A Sheikh's Arranged Baby Romance Read online

  She realized she was chanting his name over and over again, and when she would have buried her face in the blankets, Kashif leaned down to fist his hand in her hair again, keeping her from melting into the mattress.

  “No,” he growled. “I want to hear you call for me.”

  She started to answer, but whatever she wanted to say was lost when he traced sharp nails over her rear. She had almost forgotten the sting of her spanking, but under the sharpness of his touch, she remembered.

  “Yes, yes,” she agreed frantically, and then as he pushed into her harder and faster, she had no choice but to cry out as the pleasure and the passion mounted again.

  Her pleasure was rising up like a tide that wanted to drown her, and for the moment, she could keep above it. This felt too good, so good that she could not think of ending it any time soon, and then, suddenly, there was nothing at all she could do about it. One moment she was pulled taut like a rope, trembling and on the verge of what came next, and the moment after, she had shattered entirely, the pressure bursting and leaving her like a bonfire of sweetness and heat.

  “Oh! Kashif, Kashif!”

  She had no idea what she expected, but she heard him groan, as much in need as her, and then his body shook as he simply grabbed her up so that she was held flush to his chest, his cock still buried inside her as they shook through their climaxes together. It seemed to go on forever, and it seemed as if it was over too soon, and then they were both falling down to the bed, breathing hard and still clinging to one another.

  Honey thought that she might be able to drift in that pleasure forever, but then Kashif was stroking her hair back from her face, pulling back with a worried noise.

  “Honey?”

  “Hm?”

  “Honey, are you all right?”

  She opened one pleased eye to look at him, and somehow she found the energy for a smile.

  “Really? You did all of that to me, and you have to ask if I am all right?”

  Kashif looked as if he was on the verge of being alarmed at that, but she laughed, reaching over to squeeze his hand comfortingly.

  “I promise you, I am good. I am so very good, I might still be good when they call us for breakfast.”

  “No breakfast,” Kashif said expansively. “I forbid it. We shall just stay in bed all day.”

  Honey laughed, but when it looked as if Kashif might really mean it, she offered him a rueful smile.

  “I'm sorry, I wish I could. But unless you want everyone on the board for child literacy to be very angry at me, I'm afraid I have a brunch to get to tomorrow. And Fatima tells me you are booked solid until around three or four.”

  “And after that I have a meeting with the defense cabinet.” Kashif shook his head, mightily put out. “Honestly why in the world do we even have responsibilities? Like breakfast, they should be banned.”

  Honey laughed at his dour pronouncements and leaned over to kiss him soundly on the lips. His mouth was soft and reddened from all the kissing they had done earlier, and judging from the sting of her own, hers were probably in a similar shape.

  “We should be very grateful for your sense of responsibility,” she said, mock sternly. “I wouldn't be here if you weren't feeling so responsible that you decided that you needed a wife.”

  “It wasn't just my sense of responsibility.”

  Honey's heart leaped at his words, and she told it sternly that it was to stay still and exactly where it belonged.

  “Let's not fib to one another, even if we are having fun,” she said determinedly light. “I don't think it suits us, and well, it might make for some trouble down the road.”

  “What trouble?” Kashif asked softly. “No. It might have been duty that brought me to your door but—”

  Kashif raised an eyebrow when she pressed her hand over his mouth. He kissed her palm, but when he looked like he was going to remain silent and listen to what it was she was going to say, she lifted her hand away.

  “Let's not,” she repeated, suddenly uncomfortable. She started to pull the blanket over her in the sudden chill. It was heavier than she thought it would be, and Kashif pulled it over her with a careful touch.

  He's so kind, she thought. Of course he would be so very kind about this as well.

  “Honey...”

  She shook her head.

  “We both know what this began as,” she said. “We are very lucky that we have come this far and done so very well. Why would we jeopardize it? No. We should just let things rest as they are. Please?”

  The last came out more vulnerable than she wanted it to, more like an actual plea than a simple courtesy. For a moment, she thought that Kashif was going to disagree with her, perhaps even fight with her, but then something went briefly shuttered in his eyes and he smiled at her.

  “All right,” he said. “You are obviously the one in this royal pairing that knows best. They are already writing about you being a moderating influence on me, so I will follow where you lead in this matter.”

  “Thank you,” she said, but even as she settled against his chest, she wondered why in the world her victory, such that it was, felt so very hollow.

  Chapter Ten

  Kshif

  If Kashif had thought his feelings for Honey would diminish after a single incredible night together, he was wrong. Instead, after the night at the arboretum, it seemed as if they were stronger than they ever had been. In the morning, when she slipped from his arms to get dressed, it seemed as if it was getting harder and harder to let her go.

  The only thing that made it bearable was the fact that at times she seemed as reluctant to let go as he was, and then she would give him that wry look that he was beginning to love so much.

  "You make it very tempting to stay in bed all day," she told him a few weeks after the arboretum. "How in the world did you develop a reputation for being such a hard worker when you just want to roll around in your very nice sheets all the time?"

  Kashif sighed, rising from the bed to pad after her as she turned on the shower.

  "Believe it or not, I was different before you came into my life," he said mournfully. "I was painstakingly devoted to the management of my country, I rose up bright and early every morning to do what needed to be done."

  "Oh, so this is all my fault?" retorted Honey, and he grinned at her.

  "Of course it is. You are the one who bears all the blame, and of course you are the one who needs to take all the consequences."

  It was worth it to see that pretty blush rise up on her cheeks. Ever since their night together, consequences were one of her favorite things to invoke, and they both knew said consequences had nothing to do with being sorry in the least.

  "I'm afraid I don't have the time to incur any consequences right now," she said, ducking under the hot spray. "I have that lecture to get to downtown, the one on improved food security."

  Kashif followed her into the shower, wrapping one arm around her delicious wet and naked body, and reaching forward with the opposite hand to turn down the water temperature slightly.

  "You like it too cold," Honey complained, but she pressed back against him with a soft sigh.

  "But I keep you warm, don't I?" asked Kashif softly, nuzzling the side of her neck. "You don't need the water to feel as if it's coming out of a volcano."

  "No," she murmured, her voice taking on that softness he was beginning to be absolutely greedy for. "No, I guess not... but oh, Kashif, I really do have to get going..."

  Kashif laughed, turning her around and pressing her against the smooth tile wall. There was plenty of space for what he had in mind that morning, and if the scheduler they now shared was to be believed, plenty of time as well if he was only diligent and efficient.

  "Don't worry," he said solemnly, dropping to his knees. "I will be very mindful and respectful of your schedule, I promise."

  Less than fifteen minutes later, Honey had been reduced to a gasping and trembling wreck, and Kashif was rising from the ground in victo
ry.

  "There you are," he said smugly, giving her a kiss. "On time to get dressed and out the door."

  "I don't really feel much like a lecture on food right now," she said, rinsing herself off quickly and stepping out of the shower.

  "You know what that means you could be staying home and doing—"

  Before Kashif could finish that delicious thought, Honey reached one hand back into the shower, twisting the knob all the way and sending an arctic blast of water down on his head. He yelped with dismay, and Honey laughed as she made her way back to the bedroom to dress, drying herself off as she went.

  "I need to get going, but I'll see you for dinner," she called over her shoulder. And then she was gone.

  As he was showering at a more leisurely pace and with water that was of a proper temperature, Kashif realized that it had been a few months since they had actually gotten married. The festivities had been luxurious, the event perfect, but that was all fading in light of what they had day to day, the way Honey smiled at him, the way she lay in his arms with a trusting look on her beautiful face right before she went to sleep.

  The honeymoon period should have been long over, and even in the good marriages he knew about, the people involved had usually split apart to live their own separate lives by now. At the moment, he showed no sign of doing that with Honey, and he couldn't imagine ever wanting to do so.

  It felt as if he never stopped wanting her, never stopped thinking of her, and when he thought about it too long, he could start missing her so fiercely that it was almost alarming.

  What a comedown for the Sheikh of Allatf, he thought wryly. There was a time when the most beautiful women in the world couldn't get me to stay the night, let alone for breakfast, and now…

  Now he was different, he supposed, and it was a good thing that he loved being this different. He loved the idea of waking up next to her. He loved the idea of her perhaps carrying his son. He loved all of it. He loved her too.

  It wasn't a lightning strike, which is how Kashif had always thought of love – when he thought it existed at all. Instead, it was simply sitting Honey down in his lap after a long day apart and kissing her, even as they both talked about how they had been doing. It was sleeping next to her, and yes it was making love to her as well, but it was everything. It was love, and he could only hope that someday, she would feel the same about him.

  He put the thoughts out of his head, because when you got right down to it, he did not have the right to ask her for more than she had already given. She was the perfect sheikha to appease the country, and she was something else to him when they were alone. What more could he ever ask of her?

  Kashif thought he was doing a relatively good job of keeping his emotions separated from his regular day, at least until he was leaving the parliament building a few hours later. He wasn't thinking about much beyond wondering if Honey might like to go out for dinner that night, possibly to one of his favorite traditional restaurants in one of the older quarters of the city, but then for some reason, a stack of papers left on a bench caught his eye.

  Like most modern Allatfi, Kashif got his news online. It had likely been years since he had picked up a proper newspaper, but now he did, glaring at the headline. It was one of those newspapers that straddled that line between a legitimate news source and something far more sensationalist.

  "New Sheikha Not What She Seems?"

  There was picture of Honey on the front page; nothing too bad, only a picture of her at a recent fundraiser, focused away from the camera and with a thoughtful look in her eyes. With a scowl, Kashif scanned the article and snorted.

  There was absolutely nothing of substance in it, the entire article's content asking a lot of questions that it did not have the answers to. It was all things that had been settled long ago or things that didn't matter at all, though the paper certainly hinted at truths that might soon become known.

  Truths that, strictly speaking, do not exist, Kashif thought, stuffing the newspaper into a trash bin. I swear, if we didn't have news, they would make it up.

  He had spent his life in the public eye, and he knew that every now and then, there would be some flurry or other over absolutely nothing at all. People would work themselves up into a tempest over a teapot, and then, if everyone involved kept their cool and refused to let muckrakers provoke a reaction from them, it would all go away.

  He had just gotten back into his car when his phone chirped, and he grinned to see who was calling him.

  "Hello, you," he said softly. "I was just thinking of you."

  "All good things, I hope," came Honey's cheerful answer.

  "Very much so," Kashif promised, putting the newspaper article out of his mind. "Where are you at right now?"

  "Well, it turns out that the committee to discuss the fundraiser I was telling you about is canceled. I'm officially at a loose end for the remainder of the day, and—"

  She cut herself off, and almost as if he was in the room with her, Kashif could imagine his wife pulling back, biting her lower lip in that way she had when she wondered if she had overstepped. Her impulse to question her place in his life had gotten better in the last while, but it was not gone yet. Kashif knew it might never be, and he smiled ruefully.

  "Tell me what you were thinking with your sudden free time," he coaxed. "I want to hear it."

  "I was wondering," she said bravely, "if you wanted to spend some of it with me."

  Kashif let the smile he was wearing come through in his voice as he leaned back in his seat.

  "I would love to spend it with you. It doesn't matter what we do, and I do mean that, Honey. Anything and everything."

  "Is that what we're going to do?" Honey asked with a laugh. "Anything and everything?"

  "Of course it is. Though I will say that I would like it if anything and everything could include dinner out. There is a restaurant that I have wanted to take you to for ages now."

  He put her on speaker phone and started to drive. He couldn't remember a time before Honey when he had spent this much time looking forward to dinners and walks and outings, and he knew that the difference was only that he had Honey around to do them with now. If she was gone, his life would go back to being the gray that he had never even noticed before.

  His heart beat a little faster in anticipation of seeing her and having her in his arms again, and all memory of the newspaper article slipped out of his mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  Honey

  Honey wasn't sure when she became aware that something was wrong. It wasn't any one thing, nothing that she could put her finger on.

  "I don't know," she told Kashif over dinner. "It just feels as if I'm not having the same impact that I did before. I swear people aren't listening to me the way they did even a week ago."

  "Are you so upset about not being the media darling any longer?" Kashif said teasingly. "I'm sorry to tell you, but from experience, I will say that no one is loved and adored all the time."

  She made a face at him, but she shook her head.

  "You know, I'm perfectly fine with that. Let the newspapers cover the football matches or the kittens rescued from trees or maybe even some of the good that is being done in this country. No. This seems to be something I'm seeing at the committees I'm on, and at some of the events. People just feel... I don't know. Colder, maybe? It's like they ignore everything I say until someone else says it, and then they're excited and interested."

  "I'm sure it's nothing," Kashif said. "You are a royal now. People get all sorts of strange ideas in their heads, and what they think of us is not always flattering. People have been normal as far as I can tell. Don't worry about it so much. It will pass."

  It made sense when Kashif said it, and Honey dearly wanted to believe that he was right. When she was with Kashif, everything felt good and safe. The problem was what she felt when she was away from him, when she could swear that people were glaring at her behind her back only to smile when she turned to face them.
r />   If I have done something wrong, I wish people would just tell me, she thought wearily.

  It took her another few days to realize why this all felt so terrible and so familiar. It came to her while she was being driven back to the palace from yet another function where hardly anyone had spoken to her, and where a woman who had previously been friendly had simply looked at her as if they had never been introduced.

  This is what boarding school felt like, she thought, and the creeping horror of that year rose up in her.

  Suddenly she wasn't the poised and polished sheikha the country had adored. She wasn't even the tough young woman who had weathered her father's death and her mother's long sickness. She had none of the hard and fast defenses she had developed over the years and none of the perspective that had made grave emotional wounds feel softer and older.

  Instead, she was a nine-year-old far from home, placed with a bunch of elite students that she had never met, who seemed to know exactly where she fell short and how she would never be one of them.

  Her father had tried so hard to get her into the school, back when he thought there was a chance he might regain what he had lost when he married her mother.

  Now Honey, remember. These students will be your peers when you grow up, so behave yourself. You never know when you will meet someone who will change your life.

  She had been afraid to go to the school, but her father had been so convinced it would change her life, prepare her for a world where she was noble and elegant; a star.

  Then she had actually arrived and found that kids were mostly the same wherever you went, and that they had a laser-focused ability to pick up who was different, who they could pick on, and who would cry if they filled the pockets of her coat with mealworms from the bucket the science teacher kept to feed her lizards.