The Prince & the Pregnant Princess (6 page)

“Why would you want to hide such a blessing?”

For one thing she hadn’t wanted him to know. For another…She drew in a breath.

“
Sadik
, you have to promise me something. We can’t let everyone know about this.

Not until after Zara’s wedding. I don’t want her big day spoiled by speculation.”

Sadik
considered her words, then nodded. “I agree that the happiness of my sister must come first. In return for this, I want your word that you won’t steal away after the wedding.”

She hadn’t considered ducking out but realized the thought would have occurred to her eventually. “I promise,” she said.

“Good.” He put his arm around her. “We have much to discuss. I wish to know everything you’ve experienced with the child and I will share in the changes as they occur.”

She thought of how she’d had morning sickness just about twenty-four hours a day and how her body was the one that was going to swell like a watermelon. “I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of sharing,” she said glumly. “I can tell you what I’ve experienced, but that’s not the same.”

“I have many questions,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “When did you first realize you were pregnant? Have you been eating right? Why did you not tell me?”

Weariness descended. Cleo told herself that she should be grateful that
Sadik
wasn’t furious with her anymore. She was even surprised that he was taking it so well. But there were so many things she didn’t understand and situations she wasn’t willing to deal with at the moment.

She slipped away from his embrace. Everything was different now. He saw her as the mother of his child, so it was unlikely he would want her in his bed. The thought should have made her relieved, but instead she felt sad.

“I’m really tired,” she said. “Would you mind if we tabled the discussion until later?”

He hesitated, then nodded his agreement. “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

She wasn’t all that thirsty, but she did need some time alone. Her composure had scattered and she had to collect herself before the formal dinner.

Sadik
headed for the bar, but his mind was not on his task. A baby. When his father had mentioned Cleo was pregnant,
Sadik
had known right away that the child had to be his. He’d felt delighted by the news.

Now that he had confirmation, elation welled up inside of him. He wanted to announce the news to the world. Still, he would keep the secret until after Zara’s wedding. Cleo’s concern for her sister was well-founded.

How long had he longed for a son? After
Kamra’s
death, he had put aside his plans for a family. He’d known that eventually he would have to marry and have children, but he’d had no desire to hurry the process. This unexpected bounty made him pleased with the world.

He requested the club soda and lime, then headed back to where he’d left Cleo.

He could see her sitting on a chair by the wall. She looked stunned—as if their encounter had drained her. She needed her rest, he decided. He would make sure she was in bed early that evening. She needed her strength so that his son would grow and develop inside of her.

They were bound now, he thought. Cleo would always be the mother of his son. The concept should have discomfited him, yet it did not. She had many fine qualities to pass on to their child. She continued to challenge and defy him, even now. He would very much enjoy the process of taming her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Zara said as the carriage moved forward.

She perched uneasily on the edge of the cushioned seat in the open conveyance, her flowers gripped tightly in her hand.

Cleo sat opposite and tried not to mind that she was facing the wrong direction.

As the bride, it was right that Zara should face forward. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind. However, while her morning sickness seemed to have disappeared, her stomach often felt faintly unsettled, leaving Cleo concerned that the tossing-her-cookies portion of her pregnancy might make an unexpected return.

“Just smile and wave,” Cleo said, glancing at the crowd lining either side of the road.

Their open, horse-drawn carriage moved slowly, accompanied by cheers and whistles from those who had come out to watch. Mounted guards rode next to them, as much to be part of the spectacle as to offer protection. Cleo figured it was unlikely that anyone was about to kidnap the king’s daughter.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Zara said softly, her face pale, her eyes wide.

“You’ll be fine.” Cleo motioned to her dress. “I don’t think you can return that.”

Zara laughed, then smoothed the front of her designer creation. The long-sleeved wedding gown looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hand-sewn beads caught the sunlight. Yards and yards of silk and lace cascaded to the ground. With her hair upswept and anchored by an antique tiara, Zara was truly a royal princess.

Cleo figured even she didn’t look half-bad. Her rose-colored gown had been cut low and fell straight from below her bodice. The empire style concealed her stomach, which seemed to have suddenly puffed out in the past couple of days.

Zara wore diamonds at her ears and around her throat, while Cleo had been accessorized with pearls. Diamond and pearl earrings glittered on her lobes. A stunning circle of pearls, decorated with a diamond enhancer, draped down to the curve of her breasts.

“I’m going to throw up,” Zara announced.

“You’re going to be fine. Keep smiling and waving. It’s not a big job, especially for someone with all your education.”

Zara laughed again. “Okay. You’re distracting me. I like that.”

Cleo switched her cascade of flowers to her other hand. “I’m having second thoughts about refusing the tiara. Do you think I should have worn it?”

Zara glanced at her spiky hair. “Could we have anchored it?”

They had a detailed conversation about the pros and cons of hair accessories, then Cleo switched the conversation to shoes. They pulled up in front of the church before Zara had a chance to realize where they were.

A uniformed guard approached their carriage. King Hassan had ridden with the groom in a carriage in front of theirs. The princes shared the one behind Zara’s, with Sabrina and her husband bringing up the rear.

The small door was opened and Cleo rose to exit first assisted by the waiting footmen. She managed to get down the two steps without falling. Although she didn’t actually look for
Sadik
, she was aware of him. The man watched her constantly. She tried to take comfort in his attention, but knew that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the baby.

Don’t go there now, she told herself. This day was about Zara.

Her sister managed to get out of the carriage without a mishap. Sabrina joined them, urging them into the church. At the top of the stairs leading into the building, they turned and waved to the waiting crowd. A cheer rose.

“Keep breathing,” Sabrina said as they stepped into the cool darkness of the foyer.

Sabrina’s husband had already escorted the groom and the princes up the aisle.

The organ music changed, cueing the women that it was time.

Sabrina stood in front, with Cleo to follow. Hassan stopped and kissed his daughter, then stepped next to Cleo.

“You are beauty personified,” he murmured, touching his lips to her cheek. “I am most proud.”

Cleo wondered if he was talking about the baby. As far as she could tell, the king still didn’t know that
Sadik
was the father, but maybe his son had told him the truth. Either way, this wasn’t the time for a lengthy conversation.

She gave Hassan a smile. He squeezed her hand, then moved behind her to stand next to Zara.

The twenty-foot double wooden doors opened, revealing the crowded church and the long center aisle. Cleo’s stomach clenched.

Sabrina turned around and winked. “Show time,” she said in a stage whisper. “If you get nervous, picture everyone naked.”

Cleo hadn’t thought the actual wedding through. She’d seen the stacks and stacks of replies from every corner of the globe. She’d seen the gift rooms and had attended the rehearsal in the massive church. But nothing had prepared her for the vast space to be crammed full of members of the extended royal family, visiting dignitaries, family friends and a couple of thousand guests.

Organ music soared to the arched ceiling of the fourteenth-century church.

Saints watched from stained-glass windows, their hands outstretched.

Cleo found herself shaking with unexpected nerves. The only thing that kept her going was watching Sabrina ahead of her. Zara’s half sister moved slowly, in time with the music. Cleo kept her pace even as she struggled to not turn and run.

She could hear the faint murmurings of the guests as they watched her. At least her bouquet of flowers cascaded down to her knees, hiding her bulging belly. She didn’t want there to be any speculation—not on Zara’s day.

As she approached the front of the church, she saw
Rafe
. He grinned at her, then looked past her as the organ music shifted to the wedding march. Everyone stood.

Cleo wanted to turn around and watch her sister, but she still had about ten feet to go. Her gaze lingered on
Rafe
, and she watched his expression change to one of love and wonder. He looked as if he’d been waiting for Zara all his life.

Perhaps he had, Cleo thought as she stepped into place next to Sabrina. Perhaps she was his one true love.

Cleo casually glanced at
Sadik
, who stood behind Prince
Kardal
, who was Sabrina’s husband.
Sadik
didn’t seem to care that the bride had entered the church. He stared at Cleo as if he could claim her with a look.

She fought against a feeling of sadness. Possession was not love, and whatever feelings he had for her were just about the baby. Intense longing filled her—longing for what Zara had. A family, a man who loved her more than anyone in the world, a place to belong. Was it so wrong to want to be a part of something? She’d spent her whole life on the fringes, always on the outside looking in. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to change.

Cleo shook off her unhappy thoughts and turned her attention to her sister. Zara looked like a princess as she walked up the aisle, her father escorting her.

Everything about the moment was perfect, and no more than Zara deserved.

Kissing the bride was not a part of the
Bahania
ceremony, but
Rafe
did it, anyway. Cleo joined in the spontaneous applause as the couple clung to each other before turning and facing their happy guests. Bells rang, the vibrant sound echoing in the church.

The bride and groom started down the aisle. Cleo went next, expecting to link arms with
Kardal
, but he had shifted positions with
Sadik
, and she found herself close to the one man who could—despite everything—still take her breath away.

“You are radiance itself,” he murmured as they strolled down the aisle. He nodded at several guests. No doubt rulers of distant lands and personal friends of the family.

“Thank you.”

As they had on the way up, the crowd continued to overwhelm her. This was for real, she thought, stunned and amazed. Her foster sister, the same person she’d fought with about bathroom time and who had once tried to pierce her ears with a sewing needle was an honest-to-goodness princess married to a sheik.

Even more shattering she, Cleo, was walking down the aisle of an eight-hundred-year-old church, next to a prince who could trace his bloodline back a thousand years. Oh, and she was pregnant by him.

Her head spun when they stepped outside and she saw that thousands had gathered around the church. In a special area set up to the left of the church, several dozen television crews reported on the event for the international news. Still cameras flashed, taking pictures everywhere.

The horse-drawn carriages stood waiting. After
Rafe
and Zara moved off in theirs,
Sadik
helped her into the next one. Thank goodness
Kardal
and Sabrina sat with them. Cleo didn’t think she was capable of forming words let alone dealing with
Sadik
right now.

“You look shell-shocked,” Sabrina said kindly as their carriage started forward.

“I’m not surprised. This is a little overwhelming for me and I’ve been through it before.”

Cleo nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak she would either scream or cry.

Neither would be especially helpful.

They returned to the palace. Pictures were taken, then the royal family joined the reception already in progress.

The largest palace ballroom had been transformed into fairyland, Cleo thought, still dazed. Thousands of yards of beaded tulle decorated the walls and pillars.

Lights twinkled beside a cascading waterfall that hadn’t been there just a few days before. Buffets had been set up against three walls, and there seemed to be enough food to take care of several nations at once. A large orchestra played continuously. Champagne fountains flowed at both ends of the head table where Cleo found she had been seated next to
Sadik
. His doing, no doubt.

She managed to go through the motions, toasting her sister, offering best wishes, meeting people.
Sadik
stayed at her side for much of the afternoon. When
Rafe
and Zara disappeared to change for their honeymoon, he swept her into his arms and danced with her.

“I think they will enjoy their time away,” he said, speaking quietly into her ear.

“Yes. They will.” Her mouth felt numb. She knew she was talking, but she couldn’t feel her lips moving.

The king had arranged for the newlyweds to spend several weeks on his private yacht. They would cruise through the Mediterranean, then up the coast of Spain to France and England.

Her gaze swept over the room and something inside of her snapped. This wasn’t her world; she didn’t belong here. Nothing about the situation felt right.

But even as she prepared to run, she felt a fluttering sensation in her belly.

Her baby turned or kicked, or maybe just waved. It was enough to remind her that there was more at stake than her own desire to belong. If she left, she would have to abandon her child, and Cleo was willing to walk through hell before ever doing that.

Yet compromise seemed hopeless. How were she and
Sadik
supposed to come to terms? Obviously, she would have to live in
Bahania
, but how? She refused to be supported, assuming that was what he had in mind. Yet who was going to give the former mistress of a royal prince any kind of job?

Sadik
watched the light fade from Cleo’s blue eyes. She had begun the morning bursting with happiness for her sister, but somehow over the past few hours it had slowly disappeared until she looked wounded.

He did not like to think of her so, and tried to shake off the image. Still, there was no energy in her speech, and she only picked at her food.

Rafe
and Zara waved to their guests and ducked out the far door.
Sadik
took advantage of the distraction and quickly ushered Cleo toward a side exit that led to the private wing of the palace.

“Where are we going?” she demanded, showing spirit for the first time that afternoon.

“I think we have things to discuss.”

“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk. Isn’t that just like a man. Before, when I had things to say, you weren’t interested. You were all caught up in finding out about the baby. Well maybe I don’t want to talk to you.”

Sadik
ignored her outburst, just as he ignored the way she tugged on his hand as if trying to escape.

“There is no point,” he said calmly, continuing to lead the way. “I have no plans to release you.”

“That’s my big fear.”

When they reached the double doors leading into his private quarters, he slowed to study her. Cleo stared at the doors as if they led to a prison.

He smiled. “I promise I will not have you tortured once you step inside.”

“It’s not the torture I’m afraid of.”

Was she remembering, as he was, what had happened the last time they had been in these rooms together? Passion had exploded between them until they’d had no choice but to give in. They’d made love endlessly, every chance they had, clinging to each other, touching, taking, offering. He’d never known such desire.

He opened the door, then stepped back to allow her to go first. Cleo entered cautiously, glancing around as if checking to see all was as she remembered.

“Nothing has changed,” he told her.

“If you’re talking about the furniture, I guess you’re right. If you mean everything else, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

She crossed the large living room to the French doors that led to the common balcony. From there it was a relatively short walk back to her own suite. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she simply pressed her fingers against the glass.

“This is how birds must feel,” she said quietly. “They can see to the other side, but something invisible prevents them from flying away.”

He frowned. “Of what do you speak?”

She sighed. “Nothing. Everything. The wedding went very well.”

The change of topic confused him. “I’m sure Zara and
Rafe
will be very happy.”

She nodded but didn’t say more. Drawn by a certainty that something was very wrong, he crossed to stand behind her. “What troubles you?”

She shook her head. He saw a single tear slide down her cheek.

Had she defied him, he could have fought her on equal terms and been confident in his victory. But fragility baffled him—especially in Cleo. She was the most tempting woman he’d ever met, and while her beauty kept him enthralled, he found her willingness to fearlessly clash with him one of her most intriguing features.

“What pains you so?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I am an intelligent, successful man who knows much of the world. I am sure I could follow along.”

She looked at him. Tears glittered in her large, blue eyes. She swallowed. “All those months, you never tried to get in touch with me. I doubt you even thought of me. Then the second you found out I’m pregnant, you suddenly act as if you own me. I’m trapped like a bird in a cage. I can’t leave and take my child, and I won’t abandon my baby. So here I am. No choices, no life, save that of being the vessel for your child. It’s not exactly the future I had envisioned for myself.”

He didn’t know which comment to address first, then went with the one he most understood.

“You left my bed.”

She stared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I did not ask you to leave—you simply chose to go away.”

“We’ve been over this material before. Yes, I left before you asked me to. I’m sure you were heartbroken for a nanosecond. So what?”

“Why would I reward such inappropriate behavior by contacting you?”

“I am not your wayward teenager. You have no right to find my behavior wanting and then punish me for it.” She glared at him as if he were the most stupid man on earth. “Well?”

Sadik
would not have admitted it, even under torture, but he didn’t know what to say to her. Of course he hadn’t gotten in touch with her. For one thing he’d known that she was returning for her sister’s wedding. For another, she had left him. No matter how much he explained the gravity of her disobedience, she refused to understand. He had wanted her in his bed. It was a great honor to be desired by him. He had lavished her with attention and had tried to do the same with gifts, and she had walked out. He resented her ability to simply turn her back on him.

Not that he’d missed her, he reminded himself, refusing to acknowledge the emptiness he’d felt when she disappeared from his life. He had barely thought of her at all.

“You are not a trapped bird,” he said, trying a different tack. “As the mother of my son, you will be revered.”

She rolled her eyes, then turned her attention back to the view of the ocean beyond the glass doors. “You’re impossible. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to have this conversation.”

Sadik
would never get it, Cleo thought. And she couldn’t explain without confessing things she didn’t want to say. He’d made it more than clear that he resented her having the strength of will to leave him before he was ready to have her go, but he’d never admitted to even one tender feeling. If he’d said he liked her, that would help.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“That I want to go home.”

“This is your home now.”

That’s what she was afraid of.

She stared unseeingly at the ocean, wishing she could stow away on Zara’s honeymoon yacht, then make her escape in Spain. Although without money or a passport she wouldn’t get far. If she’d thought this through, she would have made alternative plans for her—

A warm, soft pressure on her bare shoulder caught her attention. Cleo’s breath stalled in her throat as
Sadik
bent lower and kissed her skin again. As her dress wasn’t loose enough for him to simply pull it off her shoulders, she had to guess that while she’d been deep in thought, he’d been unfastening her zipper. Geez—and she hadn’t even noticed!

He tilted his head and moved closer, nibbling on the side of her neck. Shivers made her break out in goose bumps while liquid desire poured through her.

Just for a second she promised herself as her eyes closed. She would only give in for a little bit and then she would pull away and tell him this was a mistake. After all,
Sadik
was four hundred kinds of wrong for her, and making love with him would only complicate the situation.

It’s not as if he can get you pregnant.

The small voice in her head made a lot of sense, she thought hazily as his hot breath caressed her. He kissed across the back of her neck—soft, teasing kisses that made it nearly impossible to stay standing. She and
Sadik
might come from different worlds and have completely different views of things, but they sure got along in bed.