Sheikh's Baby Bombshell (3 page)

CHAPTER SIX

A
BBY
WAS
SWEPT
off her feet by his kiss. But then, she had been from the first moment her eyes had met his in the piano bar. Feeling his mouth come down on hers brought it all back—the magic of his touch, his taste, the strength of his arms as they gathered her close against his deliciously hard body.

His tongue stroked the seam of her mouth, teasing her lips apart before entering with an erotic thrust that sent shivers dancing over her flesh like a shower of tiny bubbles. He tasted fresh and minty and yet quintessentially male. Irresistible.

She whimpered as she kissed him back with all the passion that had been put on pause since she had last seen him. It poured out of her like a flood, hot and urgent and unstoppable.

Her arms went around his neck, her hips pushed up against him until she could feel every pulsing throb of his erection against her body. Her need of him was a tight ache that begged to be assuaged. ‘Is it wrong to want you so much it hurts?’ she asked against his lips.

He nibbled at her lower lip in little teasing tugs and releases that made her spine loosen. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I thought I’d imagined it that night in my hotel, but it’s still the same. Maybe even stronger.’ He kissed her mouth again as if to test his theory. ‘Yes, definitely stronger.’

He picked her up and carried her through to a luxuriously appointed bedroom that was bigger than Abby’s bedsit at home. Rich blue velvet was draped in regal folds on the pelmets and either side of the windows, the floor was covered in ankle-deep hand-woven rugs, and smaller versions of the ornate brass sconces in the foyer were alight on the wall, giving the room a muted glow that made Abby feel as if she was stepping into a previous era.

Talib lowered her to the floor before gently running his hands down the length of her arms to encircle her wrists. A tiny frisson of delight went through her at that possessive touch. He made no apology for being an alpha male. He was born to rule, after all.

How unfathomable it seemed to her that he wanted her so badly that he was prepared to put aside his arranged bride for her. Abby was so ordinary and he was so...so extraordinary. He was her fantasy man, the romantic hero she had dreamed of as a young girl when her life with her mother had been so erratic and unpredictable. She had dreamed of a knight in shining armour who would one day carry her away from all the heartache and loneliness of not belonging to someone who cared enough to stay sober.

He doesn’t love you.

Abby shrugged off the annoying reminder with the reassurance he didn’t love the bride who had been selected for him, either. She closed her mind to her thoughts as she pressed her mouth to his.

This was what she wanted, what she craved.

To be with him, to feel his body and his passion until no thought could take foothold and destroy the precious moment of being back in his arms.

Talib kept his mouth on hers as he removed her cotton shirt, peeling it away from her like a master sculptor uncovering a valuable piece of work. ‘You’re so beautiful, so elegant and natural.’

Abby felt some of her ordinariness slip away along with her cheap cotton shirt. Her hands went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it with more haste than skill, her heart beating like a trapped sparrow inside her rib cage. She had thought her one-night stand with him had been daring, but cloistered away with him in his private desert oasis resort took it another step further. A dangerous step further.

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

T
ALIB
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

T
HE
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 pressure 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.’