The Sheikh’s Convenient Bride (Omirabad Sheikhs Book 1) Read online

“It’s always hard to tell, isn’t it? We have so many perceptions and memories of childhood, and not all of them are right.” She said childhood, but Rashid could see their school days reflect in her eyes. They’d spent so much time together—just friends, he would have insisted to anyone. Just friends. But he had been drawn to her in a way that had never happened with any of his other so-called friends.

  Nora stretched and braced her arms against the sides of the tub, standing up so slowly that Rashid saw every droplet of water running down over her breasts. “This was just what I needed.”

  He followed her out, helping her get wrapped in a towel, and they both went through to Nora’s walk-in closet. It was mostly empty—one corner of clothes she’d brought from London, and another with outfits that had been added during her time in Omirabad, but Rashid knew where to go. A drawer held a collection of nightshirts and pajama pants. One of the nightshirts would do nicely. At the very bottom, he kept a drawer of his own clothes. He took out briefs and a T-shirt.

  He stole a glance at Nora as she sat by the vanity mirror on the other side of the closet, patting her hair with a towel and brushing it out. Every few strokes, she yawned.

  Settle down. He’d needed her since he saw her coming out of her language lesson, but Rashid wasn’t the kind of man to give in to every whim, as much as he might want to.

  Nora caught his eye in the mirror. “Stay with me tonight?”

  “Of course.” Something still bothered him about the way she’d pushed her food around her plate at dinner. At least this way he could be sure she’d be all right. Not that Nora usually sent him back to his own bedroom—they’d slept most nights together since they’d been married. But there was always a discussion.

  A few minutes later, Rashid climbed into bed behind her and put a gentle arm around Nora’s waist, breathing in the scent of her. It had been a long day. She’d be asleep in moments, he was sure. Her chest rose and fell in a relaxed rhythm, and then…

  She wriggled her hips against his, pressing her bottom back into him.

  He’d barely been able to stifle his urge before, and now it roared to life. In the dark of the bedroom, Nora turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, a soft, languorous kiss. Then she sat up and stripped her nightshirt over her head.

  The feel of her skin beneath his hands unlocked something in Rashid, something that let the ache he had for her all the time rush to the surface. It was enough to make him want to abandon everything in his life except for her, and here in the dark of the bedroom, it seemed possible.

  She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the nightshirt.

  He didn’t need eyes to see that her nipples were already peaked, pulled tight with desire, and when he dipped a hand between her legs he found she was ready. More than ready.

  He wrestled off his own clothes and rolled on a condom, then drew her on top of him, their soft breathing the only sound in the room. Nora straddled him, bending down to kiss the side of his neck, and he held her close as she reached between her legs, took him in her hand, and guided him in.

  It was exquisitely, tortuously slow, taking her inch by inch. No—she was taking him, lowering herself down until they were joined together. A few heartbeats of stillness, and then she began to rock her hips, as slowly and inevitably as waves lapping the shore.

  Rashid could have happily drowned in the sensation. He let his hands play over her body, drawing gasps and moans from her but not a single word. They were in some kind of communion together, some kind of sacred space where words were totally unnecessary.

  She came in a rolling orgasm that made her muscles clench, and Rashid caught her as she tumbled to the side. In moments, he was on top, and Nora was whispering something into the side of his neck.

  “More,” she said. “More, please. More.” It was so vulnerable and open, there in the dark, and with her legs wrapped around him, urging him on, he gave her more.

  And more.

  And more.

  It was a game, making love to her this slowly and deliberately. Every movement was magnified a thousand times, and every sensation along with it.

  He kissed her, exploring every inch of her with his lips and his tongue, every inch that he could reach while still keeping up that slow, steady rhythm.

  “Oh,” Nora said, every time he moved inside her, every time he took her. “Oh, oh, oh…”

  He felt another one of her orgasms coming, felt the buildup and the hot, wet release—and then rode that wave to his own conclusion.

  By the time he came back from the bathroom, Nora was breathing evenly. He put his arms around her, and she scooted closer, mumbling something that sounded like his name.

  “Sleep now, love,” he whispered into her ear.

  With her body close against his, it was easier than ever to drift into dreamland.

  12

  Nora was done.

  She’d given the fundraising three weeks—three long, exhausting, stomach-turning weeks. And fundraising was not for her. The meetings weren’t for her, the handshaking wasn’t for her, and all the food wasn’t for her.

  On top of all of it, how long was it going to be before Rashid noticed that she wasn’t cut out to be his wife? How would he look at her then? Would he look at her, or would they retreat to separate wings of the palace and live parallel lives, meeting only when it was time for a photo op?

  She scowled at the thought.

  Nora’s father had attended plenty of fundraising meetings when she was younger, and he had always expected her to sit quietly at the table while he negotiated some deal or other. It was never really about the causes he was donating to; it was always about name recognition or charitable exemptions from his tax bill. Disgusting.

  She just wanted to be back in the clinic. Nora had given this enough of a shot to know that it wasn’t going to work out long term.

  It was time to tell Rashid.

  Pacing back and forth in front of his secretary’s desk, she tried one more time to convince herself that she could do the fundraising. It was for a good cause. There was an organization of women’s clinics in the capital city, and she was meeting with donors on behalf of all of them.

  But when she pictured herself sitting through another luncheon or tea, chatting demurely and searching for the perfect words to ask for more money, she knew it wasn’t going to be possible. That simply wasn’t what Nora wanted to do with her life, and Rashid would have to accept it.

  He would. Or…

  She didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t.

  Rashid’s secretary, Ms. Nazari, turned in her chair with an understanding smile. “Sheikh Rashid is off the call.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nora pushed open the door to Rashid’s office and went in. He was writing something on a legal pad in the center of his desk.

  “Fundraising isn’t working out,” she blurted out, all the words she’d planned to say flying out of her head. “It’s time for me to start working in the clinic again.”

  Rashid blinked, scribbling a last few words down on the legal pad, and looked up at her with a smile that very nearly had her melting into her shoes. No—stay strong.

  “Good morning, love,” he said. “What was that? The clinic?”

  She smiled back at him on the offchance that it would make her argument more appealing. “Fundraising simply isn’t going well for me. I want to start taking shifts at the clinic. The hands-on work is what satisfies me, not sitting in meetings with donors.” Especially when there were scrambled eggs nearby. She’d always loved scrambled eggs, and now the sight of them made her sick to her stomach. She was not about to lose her beloved scrambled eggs to a fundraising job she didn’t want.

  “Hands-on work,” he repeated, his mind still clearly on the phone call he’d just finished. Rashid looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “Right. Hands-on work. You don’t think the fundraising is effective?”

  “It’s effective,” she admitted. “I’m
bringing in funding for the clinic organization, but I’m not—I don’t like it. The meetings are becoming…” The last thing Nora wanted was to sound like she was complaining. “It’s just not the best use of my talents. I’d rather be meeting with women and helping them through their pregnancies and deliveries. That’s why I became a midwife, not to raise money. Though I’m happy to do that on occasion.” She’d agree to a few of the events if it meant she could get back to work.

  Rashid seemed to consider it. Then he said, “No.”

  A flash of anger burned up the back of her neck. “What do you mean, no? I didn’t—” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but lately she’d felt like she was ready to crawl up the walls. It felt strange to be in her own body, and Nora just wanted to be in a place with routines that felt familiar. “I came here to tell you that I’m going back to work in the clinic. Not ask permission.”

  He looked sympathetic, but she didn’t want sympathy. “It’s just not…suitable work for a member of the royal family.”

  “How is it not? It’s in service to the women of Omirabad. And you know—you know—that my work is important to me. I need time outside the palace walls to do that work. I need time away from the endless meetings. I need this, Rashid.” Nora found herself leaning over, her fingertips braced so hard against Rashid’s desk that her nails had turned white.

  He reached across the desk and took one of her hands, pulling her around the corners until she stood next to him. Nora half wanted him to pull her into his lap, but she knew he wouldn’t do that in his office. He looked up into her eyes. “Let me make a few calls.”

  “To whom?”

  “I’ll find a clinic that’s more…suitable for your status.”

  She dropped his hand. “If by suitable you mean a clinic for wealthy women, then forget it. I go where I’m needed.”

  Rashid cocked his head. “Even the wealthy need care.”

  He was right, and she needed a different tack. “All right. I’d—I’d be happy to set up some workshops for expectant mothers of any social status in my role as your wife.” Rashid smiled. “But in my role as a midwife, I’m going back to the same clinic I started at. They’re understaffed, and they need my help.”

  Rashid gave her a rueful smile. “You’re not going to change your mind on this, are you?”

  “No.” Nora had to find somewhere she fit in, more than she fit in her own skin at this moment. And the clinic was that place.

  “Then you’ll have to take security along with you.”

  “I will.” Nora rocked up on her tiptoes, ready to leave that instant.

  “If they tell you to leave, you have to go. No questions asked.”

  “No questions asked.” Nora turned on her heel. Rashid caught her by the elbow.

  “Nora.”

  “Yes?”

  A deeper emotion curled through his eyes, and for a moment the air seemed to spark with anticipation. Her heart pounded. Rashid looked like he might say the words she craved, even if Nora hadn’t admitted it even to herself.

  “Be safe,” Rashid said, then pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and let her go.

  The women’s clinic, headed by one Dr. Abadi, took Nora back with open arms, but this time it was…different. Her first trip to the clinic had been mostly an accident, after all, though she’d made the most of the opportunity to learn about the clinic’s staff and procedures. Nora’s limited understanding of the language was one of the main barriers, so she’d talked Fatima into coming along to act as a translator until she could add someone permanently to her staff.

  Not an hour into her shift, Nora realized the bodyguards were a bigger problem than the language.

  Rashid had beefed up her security team since the wedding, but this was the first time Nora had seen them in action. So far, she’d mainly gone to events inside the palace or with Rashid and his security team.

  To a one, they were strong, tall, and muscular, and in their dark suits and sunglasses, they seemed to take up all the available space in the clinic.

  She had to make this work for the patients, otherwise they couldn’t be comfortable with her. It would interfere with providing an excellent level of care. How could anyone relax when they were surrounded by security? She was sure some people, like Rashid, were used to it, but in this neighborhood it only made the tension in the waiting room skyrocket.

  Nora sent the guards out to the SUVs in front to wait. The leader, a man named Jabbar, shook his head until Nora pointed out the women in the waiting room, avoiding eye contact and placing their hands protectively over their bellies. By the expression on his face, even Jabbar could see that packing the waiting room wasn’t creating a relaxed atmosphere.

  “If there’s even a hint of trouble, we’re coming back in,” he told Nora sternly. “And if you see anything—anything—out of place, hit your panic button. Don’t hesitate.”

  “I won’t,” she promised. “It’s just better this way. The patients need calm. And I know you’re calm and focused on the job, but I’m not sure they can see much other than your watchfulness. And the lack of space.”

  Jabbar cracked a smile at that. “Sheikh Rashid had a specific idea of how he wanted your team to appear.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t account for how you’d all fit into one small waiting room,” Nora said.

  “All right.” He fixed her with one last look. “Any sign…”

  “Any sign,” Nora agreed.

  After they left, Nora—and the patients—started to relax. With Fatima by her side, it was easier to communicate with the women, and it wasn’t long before Dr. Abadi handed Nora some files and set her loose.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she said. “We’re always running behind. Maybe tonight I can leave at a reasonable hour.”

  Nora’s first patient was a young woman who was eight months pregnant. Her cheeks were pink with excitement as Nora examined her, checking the baby’s heartbeat and measuring her belly.

  “Everything’s looking good,” she told the woman. “You’re right on track.” Nora waited to hear if her patient had any concerns, but while Fatima translated, she got dizzy.

  Nora felt a buzzing in her toes first, like stepping into the very edge of the ocean, but in no time it had raced up through her entire body, turning her stomach and making her arms tingle. Sweat pricked at the back of her neck.

  “Excuse me. I have to—” What she had to do was clap her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t be sick.

  She ran for the bathroom, glad for once that the clinic wasn’t very large. Nora made it just in time to lose her breakfast.

  When it was over she stood shakily and splashed cold water on her face. She patted her skin dry with a few paper towels and stared at the woman in the mirror. That woman, whom she had started to recognize at the clinic today, was wide eyed and pale. A strange nervousness tinged with excitement came over her body like the dizziness had and passed just as quickly.

  Nora knew what these symptoms meant.

  She especially knew what they meant considering that she’d missed…what was it now, two periods? She’d chalked it up to stress, and she’d been so focused on acclimating to life in Omirabad and getting back to the clinic that she hadn’t been keeping track.

  Or she’d ignored it. That was the more likely answer. A pregnancy right now would complicate things with Rashid, and she didn’t feel like they were there yet. Being married was different from being in love, and even if she was in love with Rashid, there was no guarantee that—

  A knock at the door broke her out of her thoughts. “Nora? Are you all right?” It was a relief that Dr. Abadi spoke English. “You’ve been in the bathroom a long time. Is there anything I can get for you? Anyone I can call?”

  Nora did not want the security team to rush in over this, disturbing the peace of the clinic. No—she needed something else entirely.

  She stood up straight and went to the door, cracking it open so she could look the doctor in the e
ye. It was too late, Nora saw, to avoid the security team. They stood in a semicircle behind Dr. Abadi, who gave Nora an apologetic smile. “Your team leader came to check in on you, and they want to confirm that you are well.”

  “It’s all right.” Nora waved to the team.

  Jabbar stepped forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with the doctor. “It’s time to return to the palace.” Genuine concern shone in his eyes.

  “I understand.” It was tiring, Nora realized, just to stand there. “There’s something I need to do first.”

  She spoke quietly to Dr. Abadi, who stepped back toward the wide counter, opened one of the cabinets above it, and pulled out a pregnancy test.

  Nora took it from her and shut the door behind her without another word. It was the easiest explanation for how she’d been feeling—tired and irritated and put off by the endless food that was available at the palace. Still, she couldn’t go to Rashid with anything less than full certainty.

  There was a small cabinet stocked with specimen cups and other items for the women in the clinic, and Nora took out one of the cups. She peed on the test stick, then balanced it in the cup and waited.

  It was the longest three minutes of her entire life.

  But when it was over, there was no question—the two bright lines on the test confirmed it.

  She was pregnant with Rashid’s baby.

  13

  “How long has she been in the bathroom?” Rashid said to Dr. Abadi, struggling to keep his voice under control.

  He hadn’t wanted to interfere with Nora’s clinic visit. Yes, she was his wife, and when he slept next to her in bed, he found himself choked up with how much Nora meant to him and how badly he wanted to keep her next to him for the rest of their lives.

  Not that he’d said as much to her. She had agreed to take the security team…

  It was silly, he decided in the end. Rashid was the crown prince of Omirabad, and he had every right to check in with said security team for his own peace of mind. Nora wasn’t simply a private citizen anymore. Anything that happened to her would also affect the royal family.