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

  “Shh.” Aisha kept rocking, Karyme cradled gently in her arms. “She’s almost back to sleep.”

  He heard an odd note in her voice but couldn’t place it. Instead, he pulled up another chair next to her rocker, sat down, and started to sing.

  Nadim had meant to sing something else—a silly song, or even a recent pop song turned into a lullaby—but what came out instead was that same love song from the plane. Contentedness shot through with a strange sorrow overwhelmed him, along with a piercing knowledge. He closed his eyes.

  He loved her.

  He loved them both—Aisha and baby Karyme. They were the two most important women in his life. That knowing jostled all the other factors in his mind into a new arrangement, like puzzle pieces that he knew could fit together, if only he could figure out how. Aisha. Accomplishment. His life plan. Love. He kept singing. Did she still want a loveless marriage, or would she accept something more? What, in the end, was the real accomplishment of life—an achievement to hang around his neck or the triumph of loving a person to the best of his abilities? Could he commit without really knowing his purpose in life, or was that commitment itself his calling?

  Aisha’s breathing hitched. He wished he knew what she was thinking. Was it the same feeling that caught her voice earlier, or a response to his song?’

  He finished the final few lines. Nadim opened his eyes. Aisha gazed down at Karyme. The baby slept soundly in her arms. He jumped up from his chair and helped Aisha stand, and she put Karyme carefully back into her crib.

  They crept out into the hallway together, leaving the door open a crack in case she cried out again. Aisha turned to face him. Even in the low light, he could see that she had been crying.

  Shock rang in him like a bell. He hadn’t pictured Aisha as the kind of woman who would cry over anything, and for the last few days she had been the most steadfast and stoic leader he could imagine—never slowing down, never breaking down.

  “Aisha.” He couldn’t help himself—he put a hand to her cheek and wiped away her tears, his own heart feeling heavy and light at the same time. “What is it?”

  She bit her lip but didn’t turn her face away. She only took a few deep, steadying breaths, almost as if she might shed a fresh round of tears.

  “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But I’m here. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Aisha’s eyes flicked up to his, and she took one more long breath. “I’ve just had some news.” She gave a low, rueful laugh, brimming with pain and embarrassment. “Sanaa came to tell me that the park in Liddah is a complete loss.”

  Memories rampaged through his head, playing one after the other. Aisha’s face, shining with pride in the sun. The intense draw of her on the bench next to him. The sound of the stream, bursting with life and hope, burbling close by. Her voice as she told him about how much work she’d done and how much the space meant to her. It had been a connection to her father, and now it was gone.

  “It’s not really that important a site.” Aisha’s voice quavered. He couldn’t blame her. It had been a gorgeous place, and it had obviously meant a lot to the people of Liddah, too. She had made sure it would. “But it was mine.” Her voice went high and breathless, breaking his heart. “On top of everything else, it’s the final straw.”

  Her hand went to her throat, her breathing harsh. Aisha’s shoulders sagged. She looked like she wanted to sink to the floor and disappear.

  Nadim couldn’t have that. Not when he was standing right here. He gathered her into his arms, his own soul sighing with the relief of her body against his, the soft curves back where they belonged: against his own hard lines. Aisha let out a shuddering breath, and after a tense second, she relaxed. Her arms came up around his waist and she held on tight.

  They stood that way for long enough that the ache that had taken him over subsided. He breathed in the light floral scent of her shampoo and smoothed her hair down with the palm of his hand. This is what matters, the small voice in the back of his mind said. This is the only thing that matters.

  Nadim stepped back a couple of inches, just far enough to put a hand under her chin and tip her face up toward his. Her eyes gleamed in the light, still shining with tears. He knew what she needed. He needed it, too. There was no question—her want was plain on her face.

  “Come to my room,” he murmured, pitching his voice low so it didn’t carry to Karyme and wake her up. “Let me take care of you.”

  13

  Aisha didn’t have the strength to resist Nadim’s invitation, and anyway, she didn’t want to. The words from his lips were a balm to her soul, even standing there in the hallway.

  “Please.” It wasn’t like her to feel this broken over anything, much less a park—no matter how much that park had meant to her. Right now, it felt like the end of the world. “I would like that.”

  Nadim took her hand and led her across the hall to his suite. He settled her in the overstuffed armchair by the fire and pulled a soft blanket over her, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “Wait here.”

  Aisha closed her eyes and let her head rest against the chair. For once, she didn’t want to ask any questions. She just wanted Nadim to take charge. She’d just started to drift off when he returned, gentle hands on her face.

  “This way, Aisha.”

  She must’ve dozed a little longer than she thought, because he’d prepared a bath in the massive tub in the suite’s bathroom. Aisha stood on the warm tiles and lifted her arms when he said. Nadim undressed her as carefully as he might’ve carried a precious vase—with infinite care. Then he helped her into the water. It was hot and fragrant, bubbles floating on the surface, and she leaned back and closed her eyes again.

  The next time she opened them, Nadim was up to his bare, muscular forearms in the water, a soft cloth in his hands. He bathed her so carefully. He washed her hair. He rinsed it out. And when he was finished, he dried her off with a series of towels. Aisha only opened her eyes when he wrapped the last one around her.

  He wore a serious expression, but when she met his eyes, his gaze filled with heat. She could see him wrestling with an urge—an urge to do exactly what, she couldn’t be sure.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. Nadim didn’t hesitate. He lowered his lips to hers and pulled her close again. She let the towel drop to the floor. “I don’t want to think anymore,” she murmured against his mouth.

  Aisha felt exquisitely aware of the dampness at the edges of his sleeves, pushed up to his elbows. The brush of his fingertips against her clean, naked skin made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. For once, they stood in a timeless place—no rush. No schedule. Nothing but the two of them. She should’ve been cold, but he’d filled the suite with a protective warmth.

  She let herself sink into it. The kiss deepened. He kissed every part of her lips. Nadim lingered on the corners of her mouth. He licked her bottom lip. Every time she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her, studying her as if he’d never seen her before. Or as if she was the only one he wanted to look at for the rest of his life.

  “You’ll get cold.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, tracing a path along her collarbone with one of his fingertips. “Let me take you to bed.”

  She let him.

  They padded across the plush carpeting outside the bathroom, holding hands all the way to the four-poster bed that dominated the sleeping area. Nadim slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. She’d spent so long working, so long holding it together, that she hadn’t known how much she needed this—needed someone to surround her. To hold her up. Aisha threaded her hands behind his neck and kissed him again, her body waking back up from the lazy heat of the bath.

  “Now it’s my turn.”

  A question flared in his eyes.

  Aisha reached for the hem of his shirt and dragged her fingers across his skin while she lifted it over his head, exposing the hard muscles of his ab
s. He spent time on those, she knew. Early mornings in the gym, and she didn’t care what else, only that he sucked in a breath when she touched him. It made those muscles even more defined. Nadim shoved his pants down, along with his boxers, and stood in front of her, completely naked. His eyes shone with desire, and when his skin met hers, when he gathered her in again, she thought she’d die from how good he smelled—like a lazy day in the sun, turning into a night with a hint of spice.

  Nadim shifted his weight—shifted her—and Aisha found herself stretching out face down on the bed, a pillow gathered under her head. The bed dipped next to her under Nadim’s weight, and then...

  He put his palms on her shoulders, skimming them over her skin until the exact moment when she needed him to increase the pressure. Aisha didn’t have to say a word. He worked her shoulders, then down her back, and...lower.

  Nadim stroked between her thighs, still massaging her. Desire flickered along the length of her skin. She heated up everywhere he touched, and he touched her everywhere. Her calves. Her ankles. Her thighs. He massaged the bottoms of her feet, one after the other, taking his time. She melted into the pillow. She became one with the bed.

  And then his lips met her ankle.

  A playful, lingering kiss started things off, but then he worked his way back up toward the apex of her thighs. Slowly. So, so slowly. So slowly that she came awake with it, the moments blending together until he kissed the very top of her thigh, the crease of her leg, and she cried out.

  Nadim met her cry with his mouth on her folds, licking into the slick wetness that waited for him. Her thighs trembled with the effort of keeping them together—or was it the effort of keeping them apart? She wanted more of him, and he knew it. Nadim drove her into a winding orgasm that had her writhing back against the bed, clutching the comforter.

  “Please,” she begged into the dark, her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure made her arch over the covers. “Take me.”

  But even crying out like that couldn’t make him hurry. He’d mastered the art of waiting, and he used it now. It was impressive, how long he could take—kissing every inch of her exposed skin. Nadim crawled between her legs, the head of his cock brushing against her. Teasing. Torturing. But he seemed not to notice. He lingered on her breasts, swirling his tongue around her nipples and bringing them to peaks so sensitive she ached down to her core with it. Only when he’d nibbled his way up her neck, along her jaw, and held her gaze in his, eliciting a sound from her that could only be begging, did he enter her. He took her with that same unbelievable slowness, letting her feel every inch. Aisha felt a strange sense of...holiness, almost. Like something sacred was happening between them. She was a goddess, and he worshipped her. They’d gone outside the bounds of Earth and into another plane. She might never come back again.

  She’d been a little frustrated that he’d taken so much time, that he teased her like this—but then Nadim settled into a rhythm that seemed cosmic in its power. As relentless as waves on the shore. He was inside her, he was above her, he was everywhere, and she didn’t have to hold on anymore.

  Aisha’s only job in this moment was to give in.

  So she did, breaking apart under his hands. The last of her filter dissolved, and she clung to Nadim with everything she had, rocking her hips toward his, meeting him for every stroke. Her body clenched and shuddered, again and again. She couldn’t tell where one release ended and another began. There were so many. Too many.

  He had to bring her gently back down when his own release came, because her hips still searched for him, wanting more. Nadim reached between them and rubbed her in slow circles until she’d spent all her energy. Every bit.

  In the end he had to arrange her under the covers and pull them up around her shoulders. The cool of the sheets settled around her along with...relief. It would be all right in the end. They’d fix the park, eventually. She’d find a good family for the baby. It would all be well. Something was different about the way they’d been together, there was that—but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  Aisha fell asleep and into a deep peacefulness.

  She woke in the gray before dawn with Nadim sleeping beside her.

  For once, her shoulders didn’t ache. Her back didn’t throb from the tension of repairing the country after the storm. It had been so refreshing, what he’d done with her.

  Nadim’s breathing was even and soft, and she hovered a hand above the line of his spine for a long moment before letting it fall to the bed.

  He didn’t need to wake up now.

  Aisha crept from under the covers and threw on her robe. She went silently out of his suite and to her own room. Was sex with Nadim the key to being this alert without coffee? She tried not to think too hard about it while she climbed into the shower, but the realization—the truth—had wedged itself into her mind. It wouldn’t leave. She couldn’t ignore it.

  She loved him.

  And just as important, she needed him.

  But he was unavailable. He didn’t want to be needed like that. Aisha worked the shampoo into her hair, then conditioner. She’d gone to sleep with her hair in a wild tangle, and now it was time to straighten things out. Nadim didn’t want a relationship, and she had to focus on her duties.

  The country mattered most.

  Because no matter how much she wanted him, needed him, loved him, he didn’t want to change his life for her—and she didn’t have time to wait for him to come around. The storm sweeping over the country had proven that she belonged in her position. Jamad would be a disaster in every situation, but especially one like this.

  Aisha turned the water off and stood on the wet tiles, following the droplets down to the drain.

  She wanted him. She needed him.

  But she’d have to find someone else.

  14

  Kendah settled into a routine around Nadim, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how it had all gone so right while going so wrong.

  Had he imagined the hours he’d spent with Aisha? He’d never felt so connected to her before. He’d gone to sleep that night feeling sure that they’d come to a silent understanding. Then the morning had come, and he’d been shocked to find her side of the bed empty. A few days rolled past, and she stayed distant. When they crossed paths, she gave him professional smiles and hardly met his eyes. It wasn’t right.

  Yet everything about the situation outside the palace had begun to right itself. Cleanup crews put in long hours getting the capital city back into shape, and when they’d finished they moved on to the smaller communities. Delivery drivers got back on the roads, stocking grocery stores and dropping off packages. The country had come through the storm.

  The restlessness that kept him awake at night didn’t make any sense.

  Nadim had thrown himself right back into the business of being of service. He spent time with the cleaning crews and even went out on some delivery routes. He made sure the meeting room in the palace was always stocked with food and drinks, and if someone came to meet with Aisha while she was busy, he made himself available to talk. It was the most profoundly satisfying work he’d ever done, and the most tiring.

  But he lay awake, an odd need to move coursing through his veins. He paced the carpet, waiting for opportunities to rock Karyme back to sleep. Three long days and three long nights passed like that—with sleep elusive and his mind unsettled. It was like she’d walked out of his room that night and taken his peace with her.

  On the fourth night, Aisha sent one of her people to ask if he was free for dinner. The two of them met on the terrace on the main floor. The staff had gone to the extra trouble of putting a white tablecloth on the table, and the evening breeze tossing its edges in a playful dance.

  Nadim took his seat across from Aisha and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. How could he possibly be nervous to see her? Whatever the reason, he was. He drummed his fingertips on one knee until he caught himself doing it, then folded his hands on the table. />
  Aisha studied him from her seat, dark eyes questioning. The set of her lips made him think she wasn’t questioning him. She was probably questioning herself. Making a decision.

  She sat up straight and took a sip of her wine.

  “I think we should talk.”

  His stomach sank, but he got a grip on himself. “I think we should do less talking.”

  Aisha gave him a courtesy laugh. “There is something I want to discuss with you, Nadim. It’s something important.”

  What could be more important than explaining what happened between us? He smiled back at her. “Tell me. I’m here to listen.”

  “Well, I’ve made a decision.” Seriousness came down over her expression. “I’ve decided to adopt Karyme.”

  “Adopt her?” His mind couldn’t process the words. Adoption was supposed to be a good thing. It was the end goal they were going to work toward. But on Aisha’s lips, it seemed like a provocation. She was going to adopt Karyme? What about him? He thought of all the hours he’d spent with Karyme’s head tucked against his shoulder, her hand in his beard. I don’t want to give that up.

  “Yes.” Aisha peered down into her wineglass, then met his eyes again. “With all the flooding, the last thing any of my people need is a new baby to add to their personal chaos. And...” Aisha’s cheeks went a little pink. “I’ve come to love her.”

  It was a second blow, right where he felt it most, and the shock of it stole his breath. Of course he hadn’t planned to take Karyme back to Raihan with him. Of course that hadn’t been on his mind. But it had been a possibility. And now it was another door slamming shut.

  When he went back to Raihan, he’d lose them both. He’d have to give up Aisha, and give up Karyme—it was the cost he had to pay. He would have been doing that anyway, but coming from Aisha...it was different somehow. If Karyme were going to a different family, then he’d still miss her—painfully, deeply—but he wouldn’t be choosing to leave her behind.