Sheikh's Baby Bombshell Page 3
His chest was hot to touch, his skin rough with hair, his smell an intoxicating mix of sandalwood and musk and salty male. She pressed her open mouth to his flesh, trailing her tongue over his flat nipple, lightly scraping her fingertips down the carved perfection of his muscles. She felt him draw in a breath as her hand drifted lower to skate over his abdomen and the proud jut of his erection. It made her even more daring and brazen. She slid his zipper down and freed him, caressing him without the shyness of their first encounter.
She knew him now.
She knew how he felt, how he tasted, what he liked and how he responded to her touch. She explored him until he was breathing hard, but before she could slither down in front of him to take him in her mouth as she had dreamed of doing for the past month, he pressed her down on the bed and came over her in a sexy jumble of limbs.
‘I want you this way.’ He entered her with a deep thrust that made her gasp in surprised delight.
He set a frantic rhythm that made the base of Abby’s spine and the backs of her knees tingle like sherbet. Her body was slick with moisture, his rock hard and urgent. Her sensitive nerves stood up and took notice, every one of them doing a pirouette of joy as each of his thrusts drove harder. He lifted her pelvis with a hand beneath her bottom, the slight tilt of her hips giving her more friction. She felt a delicious drag, that wonderful climb to the summit of human pleasure that for so long had been out of her reach.
Only with him had she been able to achieve it.
Abby felt the soar of her flesh as soon as he touched her with his fingers, the stroking, caressing movement sending her reeling into a world where nothing but sensation mattered. She wrapped her arms around him as he surged one last time, his body taut as a wire as he finally let himself go. She felt the pumping action of his body within her, felt him spill and then felt him finally relax....
After a long silence he lifted his head and brushed the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. ‘I was going to come back to London this week. I’d planned to come looking for you.’
‘Why?’
He stroked a fingertip down the length of her nose. ‘I’ve never had a woman walk out on me before without leaving her contact details.’
Abby looked at him archly. ‘And that rankled?’
‘Yes, but you’re here now and that’s all that matters.’ His eyes glinted as he bent his head to kiss her. ‘And I’m not letting you run away a second time.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
TALIB STOOD ON the terrace as he watched the sun set over the desert. The fireball of the sun painted the sky in orange and rich red ochre. The fierce heat had gone out of the day and a light breeze had come like a ghostly spirit to tease the fronds of the date palms that fringed the oasis below.
This was his favourite time of the day. A time of peace and reflection before the night closed in, with just the peepholes of the stars and planets scattered like diamonds over the deep black velvet of the night sky.
He had made the announcement to his father and his press secretary a short time ago while he left Abby resting. The palace would be awash with paparazzi by morning, but he knew he was doing the right thing by offering her the security and protection of marriage. It was a daunting prospect for her to marry into a royal household, but he had assured her she would receive every bit of support she needed. He had taken care of everything so she could settle into her new role as his bride-to-be. The wedding would take place in a month’s time, and then and only then would they announce the news of the baby.
It was a good solution all around.
All the boxes were ticked.
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ Abby asked as she came out to join him on the terrace. ‘I’ve been asleep for hours.’
He turned and, holding out an arm, drew her close. ‘I thought you needed your rest before we head back to the palace tomorrow. Things will get pretty crazy over the next couple of days.’
Her eyes swam for a moment with uncertainty. ‘What did your father say?’
Talib stroked a strand of wayward hair off her forehead and tucked it securely behind the shell of her ear. ‘He wasn’t as surprised as I thought. He’d sensed I was unhappy about something since I came home from London.’
She chewed at her lower lip in that way he found so endearing. ‘What if people don’t like me?’
He bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘They will love you the minute they see you.’
Abby walked out onto the palace balcony with Talib the following day. The huge crowd below was a mix of locals, tourists and members of the press. It was a sight she was totally unprepared for. Loud cheers and applause rose, streamers and flowers were flown and placards of congratulations were held up.
She had already met the palace household, including Talib’s father, who had made her feel much more welcome than she had expected. So much so, the niggling doubts had crept away to the corners of her mind like secretive mice on the opening of a cellar door.
‘Kiss!’ The crowd roared from below. ‘Kiss!’
Talib smiled as he gathered Abby into his arms. ‘This is the fun part.’
His mouth came down and sealed hers with a kiss that was light and yet intense at the same time. She felt the stirring of his body against hers. It responded to her every time she came near, but while she was confident of his physical need of her, she desperately wanted him to respond to her emotionally.
He was like his private oasis. Closed off. Guarded. Locked.
Talib lifted his mouth from hers and turned with her to face the ecstatic crowd of well-wishers below. ‘What did I tell you, my little dove? They love you.’
Abby smiled and waved back as a tiny ache settled like an anchor around her heart. What did it matter if everyone down there loved her but the one person who mattered the most to her didn’t?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE WEDDING PREPARATIONS went into full swing almost immediately and at a dizzying pace at that. The palace officials scurried about organising invitations and accommodation for all the visiting dignitaries who would fly in for the wedding. The banquet hall was being redecorated in time for the royal wedding feast that would go on for days after the ceremony.
Abby was measured for the ancient wedding dress of Dharbiri, a beautiful but heavy and ornate affair that had antiquity stitched in with every thread of gold and every glittering diamond that was fitted to the bodice. Putting on those robes during one of the fittings reminded her of the awesome responsibility it would be to be a royal princess. She was effectively giving up her freedom and her privacy for the man she loved.
She hadn’t seen much of Talib, because she had been assigned separate sleeping quarters in keeping with the tradition of the land, and when they were together they were always chaperoned, which would continue until the wedding. It made her feel uneasy to
not be able to talk freely to him. All her doubts and insecurities plagued her, but she had no way of addressing them. It was too early to tell him she loved him, but being alone with him would surely settle some of her doubts.
She was appointed a lady-in-waiting, who saw to her every need. It was as if her old life had been put on hold while this new, exciting, almost surreal life played out like a fairytale.
Abby had been at the palace only a week when the news broke about her pregnancy. She wasn’t sure how it had been leaked or even if it was just speculation, but the press ran wild with it. It was on every news report and splashed over every paper. It hadn’t been how Talib had planned to announce it, but once it was out there was no way of denying it. But surprisingly for such a traditional culture, the news was not received negatively. The prospect of a royal heir was too exciting to be overshadowed by moral rectitude.
But the news of Abby’s pregnancy also triggered an intense, almost morbid interest in her background. An unscrupulous journalist unearthed some details of Abby’s mother’s struggle with addiction. Photos were published, gossip circulated. Rumours started.
The pr
essure of pretending it wasn’t getting to her made Abby feel as if she was living a lie. Panic set in. Gripped her. Frightened her. Terrified her.
This will be my life now.
One of speculation and intrigue, gossip and slander. Everything she did or said would be documented and pored over. Every move she made, every smile, every frown, every grimace would be plastered over some newspaper or internet site. She would be hounded like prey on a daily or minute-by-minute basis.
I can’t do this...I can’t do this....
* * *
Talib was going over some business in his study when Isham announced that Abby wished to speak to him in private. He had been hoping to steal a few minutes with her. He was aching to be with her.
To hold her.
To feel her body respond to his in that totally captivating way that moved him as no other encounter ever had. It was only when he was connected to her physically that he could express the bone-deep longing he felt for her. It wasn’t something he could put easily into words. He wasn’t the type of man to wax lyrical about his feelings, because from a young age he had witnessed the extreme emotional outbursts of his mother. He had learned to suppress what he felt because a lifetime of living in the public eye had taught him to keep such things hidden.
But he did feel something for Abby. It was something he had never felt before. He had felt it from the first moment he laid eyes on her. The fusion of their gazes had unlocked something inside him. He could never be the same even if he wanted to. Wasn’t that why he had wrestled with himself for the past month?
‘I will wait outside the door, Your Highness,’ Isham offered.
‘Thank you.’ Talib smiled as Abby came in, but then he frowned when he saw her tote bag. ‘Are you going out, darling?’
Her small chin came up. ‘I want to go home.’
Home? Talib controlled his panic. Schooled his features. Locked down. ‘This is your home now.’
‘I can’t do this, Talib.’ Her mouth was set in a grim line. ‘You can’t make me live like this. I don’t want to be gossip fodder. I don’t want to be accused of not being good enough for you. They’re saying it already, that I’m the daughter of a drug addict and not worthy of being your wife. I can’t stand it. I won’t stand it.’
‘This is nonsense, Abby. You can’t just walk away because of a bit of gossip. That’s the way the press play the game. Just ignore it.’
‘I can’t ignore it. I want to leave. I can’t think when there are cameras around every corner. I can’t smile or frown without a flash going off in my face, and now everyone is staring at my belly just waiting for it to pop out. I feel like I’m constantly under a microscope. I want to go home.’
Talib’s back stiffened. He was not used to people walking out on him. He was not used to caring if they did. His chest pounded hollowly at the thought of not seeing her again. It would be like that morning at the hotel. He had woken and reached for her and found...nothing. Empty space. She had even gone to the trouble of smoothing out the dent in the pillow where her head had lain beside his. That acute sense of loss, of something important missing from his life had plagued him until she had appeared outside the palace.
But he would not lower himself by begging her to stay.
If she wanted to go she could go, but he had a trump card and he would use it to get his way.
‘You are free to leave, but have you forgotten you are carrying my child? It is the law of this land that any royal heir must be raised with its father if the parents undergo a separation. Once the child is born he or she will be returned to Dharbiri by law.’
Her face paled, but she had a defiant spark in her gaze. ‘Would you really do that to your child? Take it from its mother as soon as she delivers it?’
Talib ignored the prick of his conscience. ‘It is my duty to inform you of the law. You are free to do as you wish, but there will be consequences that may not be palatable to you in the long run.’
She opened and closed her mouth as if she couldn’t quite think of what to say. One of her hands gripped the strap of her bag so tightly he could see the whitened skin of her knuckles.
‘Is there anything else you wish to discuss?’ His tone was curt and businesslike, because that was the only way he knew how to handle an emotionally charged situation.
‘No.’
He held her gaze for a moment before returning to the papers on his desk as if they were of greater importance. ‘I will see you at dinner. Close the door on your way out.’
CHAPTER NINE
TALIB PROWLED THE length of his study like a hyena housed in a hatbox. He was taking a chance. A big chance, but he was sure it would pay off. He would give Abby an hour or two to think things over. She would soon see she had no choice but to stay.
Of course she would stay.
He would not harbour the thought that she would leave. What woman in her right mind would? He could think of dozens of women who would happily trade places with her. He was no egotist, but wasn’t marrying a prince every girl’s dream?
He glanced at his watch for the thousandth time. Why was each minute crawling past like a snail on sedatives? He was jammed back on Pause. He wanted this sorted out. Right now.
Talib came into the smaller of the two palace dining rooms to find his butler and chief housekeeper looking sheepish. ‘What’s going on?’ He flicked his gaze to the table, where only one place was set. ‘Where’s Abby?’
His housekeeper exchanged a look with the butler. ‘She’s gone, Your Highness. She left the palace two hours ago.’
Talib felt his chest seize. His scalp prickled. His stomach hollowed. His mind filled with images of her boarding a plane back to London. He pictured the plane lifting off and disappearing into the clouds, leaving no trace of her behind....
How had he not realised what she meant to him until now? Of course he loved her. He adored her. Her shyness, her understated beauty, her natural grace and elegance. He loved everything about her. He hadn’t expected falling in love would be something that happened to him, rather than a choice he made. But he had fallen irrevocably in love with Abby the night he met her. Their chance meeting had changed everything for him. He could not imagine his future without her at front and centre of it.
‘Gone?’ His voice sounded strangled. ‘Gone where? Why wasn’t I told?’
‘She asked us not to.’
He gave them a furious frown. ‘And you obeyed her? What is wrong with you?’
‘Beg pardon, sir, but we felt we were doing the right thing,’ the butler said. ‘She said she needed some time alone to think.’
Talib glared at them both. ‘She doesn’t need to get on a plane to London to think! You should’ve stopped her, for pity’s sake!’
‘She didn’t catch a plane to London,’ the butler said.
Talib stopped fuming and pacing. ‘What?’
‘She’s gone to the oasis,’ the housekeeper said. ‘She said it’s the only place she can be alone with you. I think that’s what she needs, sir. To be alone with you, just till she finds her feet.’
‘She’s at the oasis?’ Talib’s heart gave a leap inside his chest. She hasn’t left me? She’s still here? ‘Then why the hell didn’t you say so?’
* * *
Abby stood out on the terrace and watched a shooting star fall all the way to the earth in a rolling ball of silver. She made a wish and closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the desert: the whistling wind, the rustling of the date palm fronds, the trickle of the fountain near the pool, the hooting of an owl.
The tread of firm footsteps...
She swung around to see a tall dark figure standing at the French doors that led out to the terrace.
Her Tall Dark-Eyed Guy.
‘Did you make a wish on that shooting star?’ Talib asked.
‘You saw it, too?’
‘It was a big one, wasn’t it?’ He came and stood in front of her. ‘Do you think it was big enough for two wishes?’
Abby looked up into his face. There was a hint of a smile playing about his mouth and his eyes were warm and tender. ‘What did you wish for?’
He stroked a finger down her cheek. ‘I wished that I could be better at expressing how I feel.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘I should’ve told you how I was feeling back at the palace when you told me you wanted to leave. But instead I said the opposite. I made it seem like I didn’t care at all, when nothing could be further from the truth.’
‘You care about me?’
He brought her closer. ‘I love you. I fell in love with you that night at the piano bar. I met your eyes, and zap. That was it. I was off the market. I was yours and have been ever since. It just took me a while to realise it.’
Abby smiled a wide joyous smile. ‘It was the same for me. I didn’t realise how quickly it could happen. I thought people were lying when they said they fell in love at first sight. But that’s exactly what happened when I met you.’
Talib stroked her cheek again. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask you to stay with me. You will gain a lot in being a royal bride, but I realise you will have to give up an awful lot, too. But I want you with me, Abby. I love you and can’t imagine being happy without you by my side.’
Abby’s heart felt as if it was going to explode with happiness. ‘I want to be with you. I can face just about anything now I know you love me. And if we can come here now and again to be alone that would be wonderful. It’s so peaceful here. So private and isolated.’
‘This will always be our special place,’ Talib said. ‘We can come here to get out of the spotlight whenever you feel the need.’
‘What about that hotel in London?’ she asked with a little twinkling smile. ‘Do you think we could go back there now and again?’
‘Of course.’ Talib kissed her lingeringly before finally raising his head to ask, ‘So, what did you wish for?’