The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife Read online

  Isabella nearly said that it didn’t matter what she wanted, but bit back the words. Instead she shrugged.

  “That is not an answer, rohi.” He exhaled slowly and pushed to his feet to pace the same track she’d worn in the carpet earlier. “I did not want to tell you this, but I’m afraid you might see it elsewhere when we go out tomorrow for your appointment, so I feel I must. Those photographers yesterday were not kind to you in the papers this morning. They constantly bring up your past…indiscretions.” Isabella winced at the word. Roxanne had left a trail of men across the globe. Feraz was being kind by labeling them as only indiscretions. “I do not wish our children to be subjected to such trash about their mother.”

  Neither did she. She’d expected some talk in the press about her return here to Djeva, especially with her sister’s past reputation these two years, but the impact of it hit her harder than she’d anticipated. “What did they say?”

  Feraz shook his head. “I do not wish to repeat such things. Suffice it to say that it was unkind. My wish is to embark on a new journey between us from this point forward. To put the past behind us and start anew. I spoke to Jess about it at lunch, amongst other things, and we think we can build a new PR campaign for our marriage around the birth of our first child. Would that be something you’d be willing to do?”

  Isabella swallowed hard. She’d never thought that Feraz would want to make a go of his marriage to Roxanne. In fact, from what her sister had said, she’d half-thought he’d bring up divorce today, after a proper amount of time had passed following the birth, of course. That had been what her mother’s plans had banked on.

  Stunned, she blinked at him. “Um, wow. Okay, well… Uh, can I think about it?”

  She needed to buy some time to email her mother and find out where to go from here. If it was just Isabella making the decision, she’d say yes. She loved her mother despite what she’d put Isabella through, but otherwise she really had nothing back in New York now. And Isabella had no doubt that Feraz would be an excellent provider for her and her children.

  “I’m afraid there isn’t much time for thinking, rohi.” He returned to the sofa and sat beside her, taking her hands in his. “We will need to start immediately to repair the damage that’s been done if we want to have a better future for our child. I know that perhaps I was not the husband you wished for in the past. I was too focused on my work and did not give you the attention you deserved. But I promise to do better from now on, if you’ll agree to stay here in Djeva with me and raise our children together, here at the palace. I pledge you my fidelity and loyalty and ask the same from you. Can you give me that?”

  Isabella opened her mouth, then closed it again. She tried to think about what her mother would do in this situation, but quickly pushed those ideas aside. She was not her mother. She wasn’t her sister either. She was Isabella, and she was here, and she was pregnant with Feraz’s child. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about what was best for her and her baby for a change. Her pulse thudded loudly in her ears and jolts of electric awareness zinged up her arms from their point of contact. She licked her lips and fancied she could still taste him there.

  Fidelity and loyalty weren’t a problem. If she didn’t watch herself, she could end up pledging him her heart as well. Isabella closed her eyes and gave a quick nod. “Yes. I’ll stay here with you. I’ll pledge you my fidelity and loyalty.”

  Now, if she could just figure out a way to tell him the truth without destroying everything, she’d be all set.

  8

  As Feraz escorted his wife into the beachside luxury restaurant Amazeena the next afternoon, he couldn’t help noticing how shy she acted. Roxanne had always cultivated the limelight like a true diva, loving the attention, but today she seemed as though she couldn’t wait to get out of the open and into their private Bedouin-inspired dining tent. Jess’s plan to invite some of the local press to photograph them looking happy together seemed to have worked. Reporters and photographers lined the walkway into the restaurant. Feraz stopped several times with Roxanne to smile and pose, always aware of his wife’s stiff posture and the slight tremble in her body. He kept her close by his side, even kissing her cheek once or twice for reassurance.

  This would work because it had to work.

  He’d chosen this particular establishment because it was where they’d come on their first official date. Roxy had always said she loved the lamb chops here. When Feraz thought back on their earlier relationship, he realized that dinner with her that night on the beach had been the last time he’d truly felt happy and content with his wife. The next day, they’d announced their engagement and the trouble had started.

  “Wow, this place is spectacular!” Roxanne said, glancing around at all the opulent cushions and tables. Patrons filled each tent and table, all chattering away or casting quick looks at the sheikh in their presence.

  After getting his wife settled on a crimson velvet divan, Feraz slid into the rounded booth across from her then gestured toward their server to close the tent flaps around them for privacy. The press could get more coverage of them on the way out of the restaurant and again as they went to Roxanne’s doctor’s appointment after this. For now, Feraz wanted more time alone to talk with his wife. The woman did as he wanted, then handed them menus and bowed before leaving.

  “I thought you might like to see it again,” Feraz said, watching her closely over his menu. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why Roxanne didn’t seem like Roxanne. Beyond the small things that he’d attributed to pregnancy changes, of course. There was something more, an underlying tension around her that he longed to discover the source of and dissipate as soon as possible. For the baby’s sake and for his own. He felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells around her and if they were going to make this work, honesty was key. He scanned the specials for the day, happy to see her favorite lamb chops were available. “I believe I know what you’re going to get.”

  “I guess I’ll go with the seafood buffet, since I don’t do meat.”

  “Since when?” He lowered his menu, shocked. “And you’ll find precious little you can eat on the seafood buffet. I’d hate to have to rush you to the hospital and jeopardize our baby.”

  “Oh.” Roxanne looked as surprised as he was by his statements. “I, uh…”

  Realization dawned on him with sickening effect. “Unless that was another of your lies. You don’t have any food allergies, do you.”

  She swallowed hard, staring down at her hand on the table, her fingers twisting a linen napkin mercilessly. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I told you that, other than I wasn’t keen on trying new foods and I didn’t want you to not like me when we first met.”

  “Food preferences are hardly a reason not to date someone,” Feraz said, ordering them each water and tea in Arabic when the server returned. “And you had to know I was smitten with you. I could barely keep my hands off you that first night. You were the same.” He sighed, toying with his menu again. It was all water under the bridge now. He tried again. “They have the lamb chops you liked.”

  “I don’t eat meat,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. “Not anymore, I mean.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “You have changed in many ways, rohi. I feel like I’m getting to know you all over again.”

  Roxanne shrugged, still not looking at him. “People change.”

  “Yes, they do.” The server returned with their drinks and Feraz ordered them something special from the chef instead of what was on the menu. He rarely used his influence for anything and given his wife’s new meal preferences, he wanted to make sure she had something good to eat. The server bowed once more and left, then Feraz turned back to Roxanne, his gaze narrowed. “I took the liberty of ordering off-menu. All regional vegetarian choices. I hope that is all right. Lemon and Coriander Falafel, Roasted Cauliflower Fattoush, and Golden Hummus with Tamari Baked Vegetable Dippers.”

  “Oh, that all sounds wonderful. Thank you.” S
he smiled at him then and the overcast day seemed to brighten. “I’ve been craving spicy food lately, so I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  “Hmm.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “What names have you chosen for our baby?”

  Roxanne blinked at him. “I hadn’t really thought about it, to tell you the truth. I’ve been so busy and all. Do you have any boys’ names in mind?”

  “I would like to name our son after my father, Aram, to show respect. It’s tradition.”

  “Interesting.” She watched him over the rim of her iced tea glass. “Not that you’d follow tradition but given all the troubles you had with your father politically and what you’ve worked so hard to overcome because of him, I would have thought you’d want to distance yourself from him as much as possible.”

  “An interest in affairs of state too?” Feraz couldn’t shake his feeling that this was a whole new woman before him. Roxanne, for all her beauty and fun, had never cared a thing about his work or his country, unless it benefitted her in some way. But now, she seemed to have a good grasp not only on the current government issues he was dealing with but also his family history dynamics. “I’m impressed, rohi. Where did this sudden knowledge of Djevian politics come from?”

  “I…um…” She looked away again, the color intensifying in her cheeks to a delightful deep rose shade. His protective instincts soared and Feraz reached over to take her hand, the urge to reassure her nearly overwhelming. Finally, she glanced up at him. “With the pregnancy and all, I read. A lot. You’re my husband. Shouldn’t I know about the things that are important to you?”

  “Yes, you should.” He smiled, tracing tiny circles on her inner wrist with his thumb, loving how her pulse beat in time with his own. “I just did not realize you’d cared, that’s all.”

  Roxanne opened her mouth to answer, but the server swept back in with a tray full of delectable-smelling dishes. Reluctantly, Feraz let go of his wife’s hand and sat back as they were served lunch, family-style. Heaping dishes filled with fluffy, fragrant steaming hot falafel and the chilled roasted cauliflower salad drenched in savory tahini sauce. He served his wife first, then filled a plate for himself. He’d not dined meatless in a long time, but this was delicious.

  “Good?” he asked around a bite of veggie and hummus.

  “Excellent.” Roxanne dug into her food like a woman starved. She devoured her portion of falafel cakes then went back in for seconds, much to Feraz’s delight. Feeding her and caring for her made him feel good.

  “How about Aram Redmond?” she asked around a bite of salad.

  “I’m sorry?” Feraz frowned.

  “For the baby’s name. Aram after your father, Redmond after mine.” Roxanne sipped her tea then smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Feraz couldn’t help grinning himself, feeling for the first time in a long time like maybe his marriage and his future wouldn’t be such a train wreck after all. “Yes. I’d like that too.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Isabella took a seat on the exam table in Dr. Shira Hassan’s office. She felt beyond stuffed from lunch, but she’d checked with the office ahead of time and they’d ensured her no fasting was necessary for this wellness appointment. It was to be just a quick meet and greet, followed by a weight and blood pressure check and a listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Unless he was having any problems, they should be in and out in no time.

  Which was good, and bad. Good because she didn’t like spending any more time in doctor’s offices than was necessary. After the endless trips to the hospital for her father after his stoke, then later with her mother’s cancer visits and lab tests and scans and chemo appointments, she’d had enough of the medical system for a lifetime.

  But it was also bad because she’d enjoyed getting out of the palace today and seeing some of the city. More, she’d really loved her time with Feraz. Turns out he was funny and snarky, two things her sister had never mentioned about him. And he was kind of a nerd too. He loved to read and research obscure stuff almost as much as she did, though she was careful not to let on to her bibliophile ways too much. She was supposed to be Roxanne, after all, and the only time her sister picked up a book was if she needed something to stand on or to squish a bug with.

  Still, with Feraz at her side now and his warm hand holding hers, all of this felt almost real. Almost like they were a normal married couple in love. Almost like her fondest wishes were coming true. Which was dangerous, because none of this was real and all of it would come crashing down around her the minute Feraz got wind of her deception. The best she could hope for was that her façade would stay intact until after the baby was born. Then he would file for divorce—or not, considering his real wife was dead and Isabella was an imposter.

  She shuddered thinking about how much pain that would cause Feraz.

  Part of her wanted to tell him now and get it over with, throwing herself on his kind heart and tender mercies and pray that he wouldn’t throw her out on her behind. But the other part of her, the part that sounded just like her mother’s voice inside her head, told her that to run at this point would be cowardly and stupid. And that if she wasn’t brave enough to stay for herself then she should consider the child she carried. A child that was half Feraz’s. A child that deserved to live a life of privilege and royalty as was its birthright.

  “Cold?” Feraz said, standing to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side, mannerly as always. And damn if that didn’t make Isabella shiver all the more. Not from the temperature, but from the growing knowledge that she wanted him. Not just as a provider but as a husband, in every sense of that word.

  “Ah, welcome.” Dr. Hassan said as she strode into the room then closed the door behind her. She shook hands with Isabella and Feraz both, then quickly flipped through the chart. “I just finished speaking with my colleague, Dr. Phillips, back in the States and she filled me in on your case. I’m so glad you chose me as your care provider for this pregnancy.”

  The exam proceeded as normal from there, with the usual measurements and such. Then Dr. Hassan picked up the little handheld Doppler machine from the counter and had Isabella lift her shirt. The doctor squirted a tiny dab of gel onto her lower stomach then pressed the flat black end of the monitor to her skin. Soon, the room filled with the steady thump of the baby’s pulse.

  “This sounds really good, guys,” Dr. Hassan said, smiling at both of them. Then she moved the monitor slightly to the left and the sound seemed to double. “Oh, what’s this?”

  Dr. Hassan’s frown increased as she turned off the Doppler machine. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to perform another quick ultrasound before you go.”

  “Is everything all right?” Feraz asked, his tone concerned and his grip tightening on Isabella’s hand.

  “Yes, yes. Sometimes these machines are too sensitive and can distort the heart sounds. I just prefer to be safe rather than sorry. And since this is my first time examining your wife, I want to be a thorough as possible.”

  Feraz looked down at Isabella and she nodded. “Okay. Can we do it now?”

  “Let me just grab the tech. Be right back.” Dr. Hassan left the room and returned a few minutes later with a short Arabic man in green scrubs. He took a seat behind the ultrasound machine while Dr. Hassan lowered the lights. Isabella forced herself to take deep breaths and stay calm. She’d not had any problems since leaving New York. And sure, she’d been a bit more swollen than usual and none of her clothes fit, but that had to be because of the flight.

  “Okay, Ms. Nazrani,” Dr. Hassan said, wheeling her stool up beside the exam table and taking the ultrasound probe from the tech. “This gel will feel cool on your skin and you’ll feel me pressing down to see the baby, but this should only take a moment. Please don’t worry. I’m sure everything is fine.”

  Isabella nodded and squeezed Feraz’s hand, more grateful than she could say for his strong support beside her. She watched the monitor, wincing slightly as the freezing gel hit h
er skin, then stared at her tiny unborn baby on the screen. He was active as always, flaring his little fingers and toes and kicking his legs. Feraz was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the monitor along with her, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss, the sweet gesture making Isabella’s heart flutter.

  Then Dr. Hassan frowned and squinted at the screen, moving the probe to the other side of Isabella’s stomach. The doctor said something to the tech in rapid-fire Arabic and the tech typed in something on his keyboard. Feraz’s hip was pressed tight to Isabella’s arm as she was reclined back on the exam table and she felt his sharp intake of breath at the same moment she spotted a second set of arms and legs on the monitor. Soon, another tiny face looked back at them through the screen. Her mind stuttered to a halt, trying to take it all in.

  Twins.

  I’m having twins.

  “Congratulations, Sheikh. Ms. Nazrani.” Dr. Hassan had the tech print out several pictures of both babies then handed them to Feraz while she cleaned the gel off Isabella’s stomach then sat her up. “Looks like you have a healthy set of twins on the way. A boy and a girl. From looking through your medical history, I see that you had IVF, Ms. Nazrani, which can make you more predisposed to having them. We’ll need to monitor you a bit more closely from here on out and…”

  The doctor’s voice faded into the background as tears rose in Isabella’s eyes. She stared at the images of her unborn children, unable to believe this was really happening. Her first thought was to call Roxanne and tell her the happy news. But then she remembered that she couldn’t call her sister because Roxanne was gone.

  “Thank you, Dr. Hassan,” Feraz said, shaking the doctor’s hand. “We’ll stop at the desk and schedule that appointment and a time for my wife to come back for the non-stress test. If we have any questions, we’ll call you.”

  Isabella blinked as the door closed behind Dr. Hassan, still feeling dazed.