The Sheikh’s Rescued Baby (Hasan Sheikhs Book 3) Read online

  The problem was—one of the problems was—that Aisha just wasn’t playing by the rules. Nadim had been pursuing women since he was in high school, honing the fine art of seduction, or at least attaining a certain degree of charm. But Aisha didn’t want to be charmed. That was clear from the set of her jaw and the way she pressed her lips into a thin line anytime she wasn’t talking.

  The car rolled over a bump in the road at the same time he realized what the unsettling feeling was.

  A challenge.

  Could it be that he was looking forward to spending time with Aisha? She was certainly different from any of the other political leaders he’d interacted with. Most of them fell all over themselves trying to win him to their side. They played their hands close to their chests. They simpered. They used doublespeak. Not Aisha. She’d been very upfront about the fact that she did not want his attention, or even his presence.

  And that was odd.

  Most of the women he’d come to know over the years had wanted his attention. They’d been eager for it. Aisha wasn’t. She had been so cool. So forthright. And she hadn’t gone out of her way to put on a show for him. So what if she wasn’t the most glamorous woman he’d ever met? It all made her oddly mysterious. Like she was hiding a rich warmth underneath her stiff exterior. He itched to break through to that warmth and dip into it, at least for this week.

  Nadim shook his head as if he could shake away all those ridiculous thoughts. He wasn’t going to go there. Not even for this week. It wasn’t fair to lead her on when he had no long-term intentions. There were things he needed to do before he could begin to consider a relationship, much less get married and settle down.

  He’d stick to the plan. He’d appease his parents, get them to stop obsessing over his marriage prospects, and go home to Raihan in one piece.

  Aisha gave a little sigh under her breath, barely audible, and shifted in her seat. Nadim stole a look at her while she faced out the window. She wore a comfortable traveling dress, sheath style, and the way it nipped in at the waist...

  It did things for him.

  But he wasn’t going to give in to that temptation. No. He’d find something to talk about.

  So far, he’d come up with...absolutely nothing. The constant hum of the air conditioning washed over both of them, providing a pleasantly boring white noise. It would have been comforting if he hadn’t been so on edge. The energy surrounding Aisha was not relaxed.

  “There’s the city,” Nadim said, pointing ahead. “I’m sure you already know that, but I’m about to suffocate in the silence.”

  To his utter shock, Aisha laughed. “I’ve been trying to think of something to say that will stay firmly within the boundaries we’ve set.”

  “You mean the part where you said you didn’t want anyone else to help you rule, and I said I didn’t want to get married?”

  “Yes.” She gave a rueful smile. “Those boundaries. They make the trip a bit of a moot point, but we’re here now, so we might as well make the best of it.”

  “I agree.” The closer they got to Liddah, the more Aisha relaxed. She sat back against her seat and let her foot tap against the floor. The rhythm reminded him of the beat to a song his great-aunt had taught him as a child. “I came up with something just now. Do you want to hear it?”

  “Anything to pass the time.” It could have been a barb, but she said it so gently that he knew it wasn’t.

  “I was thinking that the name of this town is so familiar, and now I remember why.” He even recognized the low skyline of the city from the photos kept at the palace in Raihan. “My great-aunt used to love to travel to Liddah. She’d talked about it often.”

  “Your great-aunt Zein,” Aisha said with a nod. “I know of her.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.” She shot him a skeptical look. “Everyone knows of her—she was a fantastic artisan. It was an honor for Kendah that she stayed in Liddah so frequently.”

  “She talked about it, too. I can remember her coming back from one trip or another and putting her hands to her chest...” Nadim imitated the gesture, feeling it thrust him back in time to the days of his childhood, back when his aunt had been alive and vibrant. “She’d go on and on about Liddah. It was one of her favorite places.”

  Aisha smiled at him, and a flush of victory heated his core. There—he’d gotten through at least one of her walls. Not that he would continue. He couldn’t, if he wanted to keep his distance. That was the fact of this little trip. He couldn’t pursue her, not even for the small wins of making her smile and laugh. Or could he? It would make the entire venture much more pleasant. Laughs, yes. Friendship, no. In the end he’d go back to Raihan and they would forget this ever happened.

  They rolled through the outer streets of Liddah and turned down a winding drive, shaded by palm trees. Aisha sat back in her seat and watched the trees go by with a noise in the back of her throat that spoke of contentment. Was it possible she loved Liddah as much as his aunt had loved it? He found himself watching her as they reached the end of the drive and pulled up in front of the villa.

  It was an elegant, sprawling sandstone house with meticulously cared-for gardens in front and wide windows that looked in on a brightly lit interior. The staff waited in a row at the edge of the driveway, each of the men and women dressed in cream-colored tunics with gold embroidery. Each one wore a big smile on his or her face. The driver of the big, black SUV—another detail that reminded him of his life in Raihan—hopped out and opened Aisha’s door for her.

  She was talking as soon as she stepped out, greeting the staff. “Muhammad, hello. How is your wife? Is she feeling any better? And how is your daughter after the wedding?” He assumed this was her butler—he was first in line and stood the tallest.

  “They’re both very well,” piped up one of the women, and Aisha laughed. “Thank you so much for the gift, Sultana Aisha. We were so honored that you thought of us.”

  “Gift?” Nadim posed the question with a smile, then turned to the rest of the staff. “Pleased to meet you. All of you.”

  Aisha introduced him, running down the line of people and giving him everyone’s name. Muhammad, the butler. Ablah, the cook. The butler’s daughter and the cook’s son had gotten married a few weeks before. Aisha turned to Nadim at the end of the line and lifted her dark locks from her neck.

  “Now that we’re all caught up, I’ll freshen up before dinner.” Her eyes slid behind him. “Muhammad, could you show Sheikh Nadim to his rooms?”

  The man’s reply was lost in Nadim’s own thoughts. Aisha went lightly up the steps, a few of the women following close behind. Nadim couldn’t take his eyes off her. Off her dress. Off her hair. He wanted to stroke her hair. Maybe even wrap it around his fist. He settled for stuffing his hands into his pockets while Muhammad took him down several long hallways and to a set of double doors that led to his suite.

  It was as immaculate as the rest of the house—sparkling clean and warm with a wide terrace off the main room. A narrower hall led to a big bedroom with an en suite bathroom big enough to host a jacuzzi and a shower with two rainfall shower heads. It matched what he’d been used to in Raihan, but wasn’t it a bit...over the top? Perhaps it wasn’t, if the sultana was trying to land a man who’d be blinded by these kinds of trappings.

  He splashed some water on his face, smoothed his hair, and went out to the terrace to wait for dinner. The terrace overlooked the ancient city of Liddah, which was made up of buildings in traditional block Arabic architecture. Palm trees swayed between the buildings. If he and Aisha married, this would be part of the royal holdings—he could visit whenever he wanted. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

  The staff arrived through the big doors behind him, carrying covered trays and beaming. They’d already set the table underneath the shade of the terrace awning, and now they loaded it with dishes. Muhammad was pouring two glasses of wine when Aisha stepped through the doors at the other end. Nadim hadn’t noticed another set o
f doors, but it made sense—the terrace connected the biggest rooms in the villa, then. It connected their rooms.

  She’d switched out her traveling dress for another creation, sparkling white with embroidered flowers. The loose fit, cascading down over her body and playing in the breeze, stopped his heart. He’d been certain her traveling dress would be the most distracting clothing item of the day, but the thobe she wore now made him desperate to see what was underneath.

  “Thank you, Muhammad.” Aisha slipped into her seat, motioning for Nadim to take his own.

  He did, and they settled into a private dinner of lamb kebab, marinated in a blend of spices that made him even hungrier, grape leaves stuffed with rice, a basket of piping-hot pita.

  “The wine is from one of our local vineyards,” Aisha commented as he raised the glass to his lips and took the first sip. “It’s my favorite red.”

  He made a small noise of appreciation. “I can see why.” It was full bodied and smooth, with hints of berry and spice. “How far is the vineyard from here? Is it close?”

  “It’s on the other side of the city, by the palace.” Aisha flicked her eyes up to his, then back down to her plate. “The palace is one of the royal properties, of course, but it also houses a museum. The advantage there is the vineyard, but I prefer the villa. It’s closer to the city center and cozier at the same time.”

  “I know just what you mean.” Nadim took another sip of the wine. The food, the wine—all of it was flavorful and fragrant and he wanted more. Or maybe it wasn’t the food he was hungry for. “This villa reminds me of one back home in a town very much like Liddah. It’s one of my family’s favorite places to visit.”

  “Is it known for any particular crafts? Liddah was the trade hub of the country, once upon a time. They exported textiles.” She laughed a little. “I’m sure you already know that, since your aunt came here so often. But the city was known for its dyed fabrics and ceramic goods. Is your...sister city the same?”

  “Linens and ceramic goods,” he said. “They might truly be sister cities.”

  They settled into an easy conversation about art and pottery and traveling back and forth between the palace and places like this. He felt his guard coming down a little more every time Aisha laughed.

  “I can’t say I’ve ever spent much time packing,” she said. “But sometimes the drives do get tedious. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I do. But it’s almost more difficult to hop in a car and drive myself. It can become a security incident in two minutes flat.”

  She tipped her head back, gazing at the awning. “I can’t imagine the panic if I went rogue. The sultana, driving off into the sunset? It would only be worse if I did it with a man who didn’t have any prospects of becoming the sultan.”

  “What kind of man would fit into your idea of a sultan?” The wine had made him feel loose and easy, and why not ask her? He was here now. Nadim knew plenty of women, but he also was friends with lots of single men. They were the kind of men who were free to leave on trips with him or rent out the VIP section of one of the clubs in town. And he tended to keep the company of men who were at least on his level socially. “I mean, what are you looking for in a husband? I might know someone.”

  Aisha looked at him, eyes narrowed and shining. It attracted him, making his heart beat fast and accentuating the heat from the wine. She took long drink of her own wine, draining the glass.

  “Someone who will stay out of my way. This is my country, and if I can’t marry for love, I’ll at least marry someone who won’t butt in. I have to, or else…” She hesitated. “I’ll have to cede the kingdom to my cousin Jamad if I can’t find someone who will do as he’s told.”

  Well, that definitely wouldn’t be Nadim. He wanted to be set in his direction for life before he settled into a commitment with one person. And with Aisha, he’d need to match her own confidence and purpose before he could hope to carve out a role for himself in Kendah. A flash of regret had him throwing up his walls as quickly as they’d come down. He took the last bite of his kebab.

  “I have a contact list full of well-connected, yet desultory, young men,” he said finally, giving her the kind of smile that he hoped communicated how very little he cared about who she married. “Want me to call them for you?”

  Aisha’s face fell, her shoulders dropping, but in the next moment she sat up straight again. Had he imagined that change entirely? If his description of his friends disappointed her, then he’d do the same—disappoint. Not that I care, of course. The end of dinner barreled toward them at breakneck speed. Aisha made small talk over dessert, things about the weather he could hardly focus on.

  The waiter slipped his dessert plate away the moment he’d taken the last bite. Nadim tossed his napkin onto the table. He stretched and stood, putting his hands back into his pockets.

  “I meant what I said about other connections. Let me know.” He gave a little bow. “Goodnight, Sultana.”

  Her voice trailed after him as he went back into his room. “Goodnight.”

  He thought of that flicker of disappointment while he threw himself into the shower. He thought about it while he read one of the books supplied on the shelves in his bedroom, not taking in a single word. And he thought of it again and again as he tried to fall asleep.

  Nadim wished, more than anything, that he hadn’t caused it.

  He was doomed.

  3

  The next morning, Aisha sat at Nadim’s side in the public wing of the palace across town; they were the hosts for a breakfast they’d put on for the locals. Several of the men and women who owned shops were in attendance, as well as the town librarian, three teachers, and a collection of other people who’d heard of Aisha’s search and wanted to meet the man who would eventually take his place by her side.

  “Is that true?” Nadim was saying to Wisal, the librarian. “It seems impossible that the library could have too many books.”

  “Too many for the space we have.” Wisal leaned in closer, eyes sparkling. She, along with every other woman in the room, couldn’t stop looking at Nadim. “They’re beginning to multiply,” she joked. “Soon they’ll crowd out our other services.”

  He laughed, and Aisha’s heart lifted at the joyful sound. He had such a sincere, easy laugh, and whenever he let it loose upon the room, the others joined in. Aisha felt like she was watching from the other side of a window. Nadim had slipped up the night before. He’d tried to make a joke out of this whole situation, and it had stung her. She’d wanted him, foolishly, to be better than that. She’d hoped that his warmth and politeness weren’t just another act.

  They didn’t seem like an act now, but who was she to say? The most important thing was that the locals would have nothing but good things to say about him when he left. She wouldn’t have to quash rumors that she was on the verge of marrying a man who openly disdained the local culture, like one of her suitors had, or who had talked about nothing but money and investment properties.

  Nadim asked Wisal a question about computers and internet access, and a hand on her shoulder got Aisha’s attention. Sanaa nodded toward the side of the room. Aisha excused herself and followed Sanaa gratefully to the side of the large room. They stood by a massive window overlooking the manicured garden, bumblebees floating lazily among the flowers outside. Aisha wanted to go out and lie down in the plants. She could let them conceal her completely.

  “He’s doing very well,” said Sanaa. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine.” Aisha did not feel fine, but that was a matter of pesky personal emotion, not something she could sink into now, in front of all these people. “Was there something you needed to tell me? Is it time to go?”

  Sanaa looked at her, surprised. “No, absolutely not. Haven’t you noticed how quickly the people have taken to him? He’s the first man who hasn’t bothered them with his questions and his presence.”

  “I have noticed.” She turned slightly away, scanning the long table where t
he group of locals looked toward Nadim like he was their personal hero. “But it doesn’t mean anything. He comes from the royal family of Raihan. They’ve obviously trained him well. And he’s an incorrigible flirt.”

  At just that moment, Nadim winked at Wisal and laughed, his gaze lifting above her head to meet Aisha’s. His smile changed, and—oh!—he hadn’t been giving all of himself to Wisal, after all. The smile deepened, the look in his eyes heated, and Aisha’s heart melted.

  She pasted a smile onto her own face—a polite one that she hoped revealed nothing. Then she turned back to Sanaa, who watched her with a skeptical expression. “What? He flirts with everyone. It’s meaningless.”

  And more than that, it annoyed her. Not because Nadim was a flirt and a playboy—she’d known that about him going in. But now it had affected her. That smile had wormed its way under her skin, and she still felt the heat of it on her cheeks.

  By late afternoon, her irritation had settled into a pit in her stomach. Aisha took a deep breath. This was a walk in the park—literally. They’d come to the center of the city to go for a stroll in one of its most beautiful features, and here she was, frowning through the entire thing. And Nadim stuck by her side, tall and handsome and...noticing her.

  “Should we head back? You look like there’s something you’re hoping to do.” Another burst of that warm laughter. She wanted to hold it in both of her hands.

  Aisha sighed, trying to work past how annoyingly handsome he was. “No, I don’t want to cut this visit short.” She made herself look around and appreciate the terraced park. It had been built to resemble an oasis, with lush grounds and plants and the ever-present sound of a stream nearby. “This is one of my favorite places in the city. Maybe even the country. It was my first big project when my father was the sultan.” She took a deep breath, the air redolent with the scent of the flowers, and met Nadim’s eyes. “It was kind of like an internship. My first foray into royal planning. So I made it everything I possibly could.”