The Sheikh’s Pregnant Foreigner Read online

  Wouldn’t going home disrupt the ritual? Or would it be better if the tribes never found out? It wasn’t like she could marry Skandar, after all.

  Her eyelids got heavier by the moment, and Gina put the notebook and pen down on the bedside table and turned down the lamp. She’d tried to ask about another tent, but her hosts had insisted she stay. And now, apparently, the first trimester of her pregnancy was going to make her so tired that she couldn’t...stay...awake.

  Gina dreamed of the Sweetest Flame.

  A field of the roses, stretching out under moonlight. But no matter how fast she walked, she couldn’t reach the flowers. That’s what she’d come here to do—to pick those roses, to press them in the pages of her notebook and bring them back to life later.

  The sound of the tent’s entrance opening hauled her up from the depths of sleep, but it was a more complicated process now than it had been six weeks ago. A low murmur at the entrance sounded like a bit of a crowd. More than one person? Why? It didn’t matter that much. Not in dreamland.

  “We need to talk, Gina,” Skandar said.

  She rolled onto her back. This dream had taken a wild turn. There was no way she was waking up to him in her tent. “I’m picking flowers.” Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth.

  The bed dipped, and a gentle hand rocked her back and forth. “Wake up, Gina darling. We need to talk.”

  It was just so hard to open her eyes. Gina managed it, but just barely. She squinted at Skandar, registering the gray light in the tent for the first time.

  “It’s too early. Can we talk later?” As she said the words, his face came more into focus. There was a sharpness there that she didn’t quite recognize. Something was wrong. “No, we can’t.” She pushed herself up on one elbow and tried to shake herself awake. It was unsuccessful. “What’s going on?”

  “My father’s died.” He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the floor, and her heart broke for him.

  “Oh, Skandar, I’m so sorry.” She moved to hug him, but he stopped her, running his hands down the sides of her arms.

  “The ancient laws say,” he continued, and it sounded as if every word cost him. “The ancient laws say that the ascendant king, which is me, can be challenged. And I’ve been challenged.”

  “What?” This seemed nightmarish, too. “Who would do that?”

  “My uncle. He’s canvassing for the support of the tribes. That’s what I need your help with.”

  “My research?” Her mind was fighting against her, fighting to go back to sleep. “I don’t see how—”

  “With the tribes.” His hand came around her jaw and tilted her face toward his. Gina met his eyes and the breath whooshed out of her. The heat was there again, made sharp by grief. “I know you’ve built a relationship with them.”

  “Oh, I did not think you’d ask for that.” Gina shook her head a little. “I thought you might have heard about the ba—” She cut herself off at the last possible second. What was she thinking? This wasn’t news she wanted to share with him. At least not right now.

  “What did you say?” Skandar’s whisper cut cleanly across her thoughts.

  She pushed herself onto her knees and rubbed her eyes. There—the world was more in focus now, only that meant that Skandar was in focus, too. Stark focus. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking deeply into her eyes.

  And they were not alone.

  The tribal elders had clustered near the entrance of the tent.

  She’d just admitted her pregnancy to him. In front of the rest of the elders. The shock was plain on their faces. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “I’m pregnant with your baby.”

  Issam was the first of the elders to move, spreading his arms out wide and ushering the rest of them out of the tent. “Let’s give the sheikh a moment,” he said. The moment they were alone, Gina dropped her head into her hands.

  “I’m sorry, Skandar. That wasn’t how I meant for that to come out.”

  He pulled her hands away from her face. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  An expression passed over his face too quickly for her to read it, and then Skandar was clasping her hands tightly in his. “Do you know what the tribes believe?” His tone was so careful, as if he were a little worried she might run out into the desert and keep on running.

  “Yes,” she said thickly. “A pregnancy during the rites is a blessing.”

  Skandar looked down at their clasped hands, and she wished she could feel him moving against her the way he had that night—fierce and hard, unguarded. “I can’t alienate the tribes and destroy all their goodwill. The city people wouldn’t like it, either. They still value the customs and honor. We have to get married.”

  Married. It wasn’t in Gina’s life plan to get married, but then again, even if she did, it wouldn’t be the traditional marriage. No cozy cottage, no 2.5 children, no dog. She could do this for him. Marry him just for appearances. It would help him, and it would help the tribes, who had welcomed her so warmly. And…she had no other argument against it. What would it hurt?

  “Of course.” Her stomach dropped, but the crash only lasted for a moment, and then she was filled with the warmth of purpose. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He met her eyes in a lingering glance, studying her. “It’s that easy, is it?”

  She took one hand delicately from him and smoothed down her hair. “I’m imagining—I’m imagining that it won’t be permanent.”

  “No,” he said slowly.

  “Your uncle—”

  Outside, the settlement was starting to wake up. Footsteps passed along the side of the tent. Even now, news was undoubtedly spreading. It was shocking, in a way, how quickly her plans could change. Gina had been considering secrecy, but that wasn’t on the table anymore. Not if Skandar needed her.

  Not if the kingdom needed her. Which it did. She’d heard stories about Skandar’s uncle.

  Skandar took a deep breath. “My uncle wants the throne to advance his business interests and enrich himself and his coterie.” A flash of anger lit up his eyes. “Have you heard the rumors?”

  “Drilling on sacred lands,” she said. “Yes. I won’t let that happen.”

  He reached up to stroke a lock of hair away from her face. “We won’t let that happen.”

  She wanted to sink into his hand, and after a moment Gina allowed herself to lean into his touch. Marrying a man for political purposes didn’t seem like the best idea, but she couldn’t walk away from him now. “How—how long will we need to stay married, then?”

  “Six weeks or so,” Skandar answered firmly. So he’d thought about this. “Until after the date of the convocation—when the challenge is settled.”

  Watching his full lips form the words distracted her for a moment too long.

  “And you’ll be compensated,” he continued. “I’ll help you with your research. I’ll get better equipment. You’ll have the best guides—”

  She put a hand on his wrist. “If you want to do that, then I won’t stop you.” A laugh bubbled up and burst out of her. “But that’s beside the point. What’s important is to help the tribes by not violating their beliefs and by protecting their land. That’s what matters most to me.”

  Skandar looked at her as if he were meeting her for the first time. “You’d marry me just to protect the tribes?”

  She let her gaze sweep over him, taking him in—how tall he was, how muscular, how egregiously sexy. “Yes. Please and thank you. Also, hi. It’s very nice to see you again.”

  He shook his head, a smile playing over his lips, and leaned in for a kiss.

  4

  Skandar broke the kiss, his whole body suffused with a strange amusement. It verged on delight. Gina was so rumpled and sleepy—nothing like the glossy, immaculate women who normally populated his orbit. She’d been living out of a tent. The royal tent, to be sure, but its amenities were still very basic compared with the palace, or even a nice house in the city.

&nb
sp; He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

  The words to tell her that danced on the tip of his tongue, but Skandar resisted. His feelings had always been secondary to the well-being of the kingdom. Now they would always be. And yet excitement made his heart beat faster and his breath come a little shorter. Pregnant. She was pregnant with his child. And they would marry.

  The fact that it was temporary...

  He squeezed her hands, then leaned in to kiss her again. Skandar could feel her relaxing into the kiss, leaning into it as if he would take some of her weight and perhaps let her go back to sleep.

  “No catnaps now,” he told her. One final peck on her lips, then he went out to where the elders waited in the courtyard. “Issam,” he said.

  The man came to him immediately, and they clasped arms in the greeting Skandar had neglected when he first arrived in his hurry to get to Gina. “Sheikh Skandar. Welcome back.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “Gina is pregnant.”

  Issam’s eyes went wide, and then his face lit up in a smile. “During the fertility rites?”

  “Yes.”

  The others heard, and they gathered around Skandar in a tight clutch, their voices urgent and joyful. “We must celebrate immediately,” said one of the others. “Today.”

  “Of course,” Skandar agreed. “As soon as possible.”

  “Alert the other tribes,” Issam commanded, and then he clasped hands with Skandar again. “Congratulations, Sheikh Skandar.” His voice was tight with pride and the slight anxiety of planning a celebration at the last minute. “We are honored that the rites have blessed you. We will prepare.” As he spoke, the sun crested the horizon, spilling orange rays over the desert. It took Skandar’s breath away. Issam gave a shallow bow and went off to join the bustle.

  Gina came out of the tent a few minutes later, wrapped in a robe and with her hair tied back. The rays from the sunrise caught her hair and turned it into auburn flames. Skandar held out his arm to her and pulled her to stand at his side.

  “Pigeons,” she said, the last vestiges of sleep clinging to her voice. “Are those pigeons with messages?”

  “The traditional method of sending news.” He wanted to kiss her again, right here in front of everyone, but better to wait until after the ceremony. If he kissed her now he might take her back to the tent and not emerge for days. “It’s cheaper and better than trying to get cell phone coverage.” He whipped out his satellite phone, a large, clunky thing, and Gina laughed. Her laugh lifted some of the heaviness that had been clinging to him since his mother had woken him from a restless sleep with news about his father.

  The two of them watched the hurry in the village for a few quiet moments.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” Gina said softly. “How is your family doing?”

  It caught at his heart. She was in the middle of her own upheaval—a wedding, in the desert, to a man she’d spent exactly one week with. And yet she still asked first about his family.

  “As well as can be expected.” He dropped a kiss to her temple, and then Issam emerged from one of the tents.

  “The oasis?” he asked.

  “Yes. Midday?”

  Issam nodded.

  “Did you just set the venue and the time for the ceremony?” Gina asked.

  “I did.”

  She laughed again and leaned closer in to his side. “Easiest wedding ever,” she said.

  They rode out to a neutral settlement near the largest oasis in the desert a few hours later for the midday wedding. He’d expected Issam and the other elders from the bin Shibanah to arrive ahead of them, but it was better than that.

  “That’s a lot of people,” Gina mused as they pulled up beside the tents. They were maintained on a rotating basis by the tribes for special meetings such as this one, and men and women went in and out of them at high speed.

  “The news reached all the tribes.” Warmth and pride shot through the center of him. The wedding was being blessed by all the heads of the tribes—he counted them in the bustle. This was good. Very good.

  He helped Gina down from the Jeep, and a group of women descended on her, pulling her into their midst with laughter. One stepped forward to translate, and she looked back over her shoulder at him as they took her to change.

  “Wait,” he called.

  They stopped.

  Skandar moved to her and freed her hair from the strip of cloth she’d used to tie it back. Her hair fell in its red waves around her shoulders, and he raised an eyebrow. “A torn strip of cloth for your hair?”

  “I usually use sticks or pencils,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Harry always laughs.”

  A bolt of jealousy. “Harry?”

  “My brother. He—” Her face changed, becoming fierce and protective. “He had some troubles when he was younger. Still does, sometimes. It took all of us as a family to take care of him. But—”

  “You’ll have to give her over,” said one of the women, and then Gina was gone, disappearing into one of the tents to the excited discussion around her. A hand on his shoulder made him turn.

  Issam stood close by. “Are you ready for your own preparations?” The rest of the elders had gathered behind him—elders from all the tribes.

  “Yes,” he said, and Skandar found it to be true—he was more than ready to marry Gina. The men took him into an expansive tent with a changing area, complete with water basin, and handed him scented oils and towels behind the screen. Then they gathered around to dress him in traditional robes. Skandar always traveled with this set, made for him by the women of the tribes. Hands moved over him with deft concentration to get the white fabric into place. The men led the way to the courtyard, slightly away from the gathering of tents.

  A clear pool of water surrounded by palm trees and flowers in bloom was the centerpiece of the oasis, and the men led him to the edge of the water. The oasis was alive around him in a riot of green and orange and pink, white flowers threaded throughout, but as he turned back to see the procession from the settlement with Gina at the head, he felt a pang of regret. She deserved better than a simple ceremony out in the desert. He’d plan a flashier one for later. He had to. Gina, with her hair loose and shining and her face flushed with the afternoon warmth and her eyes bright—she deserved more. The women had clothed her in a simple white dress that moved around her in the breeze, almost shimmering in the light, and he wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms. Nothing.

  Issam led the ceremony, which was as simple as the rest of the gathering. They promised each other fealty and to love one another as long as they both lived. And then Issam gave a short speech about how the union of a man and his partner carried them through the hard days and the bountiful ones in the desert. “Love is like the stars above and the water in the oasis,” he said, smiling at them. “It is always watching over us and waiting for us, always there.”

  Quiet applause came from the gathered tribespeople, and as Skandar leaned down to kiss his new bride, they started up another ancient chant—a chant of pure celebration. The sound moved through him like the beat of a drum, and when he straightened up, the moment felt completely, undeniably right. And permanent.

  Gina put her arm through his, and he led her back through the cheering tribespeople to a special tent they’d set up that morning. Skandar led her inside and flung the door closed behind him, and then he finally let himself free—free from the constrictions of acting like the ascendant king—and kissed her, hard and deep.

  She gasped into his mouth, her arms threading around his neck, and he was taken by the scent of her—flowery and warm and uniquely Gina. Her lips against his were a new revelation every time she kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip and coming back for more. “Why are we in this tent?” Gina laughed against his mouth. “What are we doing in this tent, husband?”

  Husband sent an unexpected thrill down the length of his spine. “Traditionally...” He was hard for her already. Had been since the moment Issam ended the cer
emony. Had been for days, for weeks, before this. “Traditionally it was supposed to be for the consummation, but now it’s symbolic.”

  A sly grin spread across her face. “I think it would be better to follow tradition.”

  “The people will be preparing the wedding banquet,” he said as he turned her around in his arms and pinned her to his chest, lifting her wedding gown inch by inch until he found bare skin underneath. “Naughty,” he murmured into her ear. “Were you planning this?”

  “I only wanted to be—” A little gasp as his fingers found the wetness between her legs. “Comfortable in the heat.”

  They’d be expected back outside soon, but Skandar’s control fell away. It felt like he’d been away for an eternity. He stroked her between her legs, two fingers searching for her entrance and finding her so ready for him that he lifted her into his arms with a low growl and took her to the bed. It was a ceremonial piece of furniture, overlaid with far too many pillows in jewel tones, and he bent her over it and pushed her dress up to her hips. Skandar yanked aside his own robes and nudged her feet apart, Gina tossing her head back and angling her ass toward him in a way that made him feel like a wild creature and not a man.

  He took her in a hard thrust, and her hands went tight on the blankets, her body clenching around him. “Oh, god,” she murmured. “It’s so good, it’s so—”

  Skandar slipped a hand around in front of her and toyed with her clit while he worked himself in and out, in and out, giving himself over to the urge to make her his, to mark her in some way, even though she was already well and truly marked by the baby growing inside her. You are going to be the king, he thought, but she pulsed around him again, and there were no more thoughts.

  There was only her. The small noises she made as he took her. The way she rocked her hips into his hand, letting him bring her up and up and up until she came all over him in a burst of pleasure and wetness. He’d wanted to take his time, of course he did, but the heat of her forced him over into his own release.

  He stepped back, catching his breath, and pulled her to his chest again.