Claimed by the Desert Sheikh: The Sheikh and the Pregnant Bride / Desert King, Pregnant Mistress / Desert Prince, Expectant Mother. Susan Stephens
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pulled her next to him and put his arm around her. “Don’t apologize. You are not at fault here. The blame is mine.” He looked at his father. “I paraded Maggie in public. That’s why the pictures were taken. It is my fault.”
“But not your child.”
Maggie stared at the king, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He sounded almost disappointed by the news. Had he been hoping he would have a grandchild at last?
“No, Father.”
Mukhtar nodded. “Very well. Maggie, you will leave El Deharia at once.”
Maggie started to nod only to have Qadir say, “No, she will not. She’s staying here.”
“To what end? You can find someone else to work on your car.”
“This isn’t about the car. This is about her.”
Maggie couldn’t believe it. After all this, Qadir was still going forward with the deal? Didn’t he know what a disaster this all was? How her pregnancy complicated everything?
“You can’t go out with her,” the king said.
“Why not?” Qadir asked. “I like her.”
Words spoken to prove a point, she told herself. Silly words that meant nothing. Yet she wanted to wrap herself in them like they were a blanket and she were caught in a snowstorm. She felt her eyes burning, but refused to give in to tears.
“Maggie stays,” Qadir said. “We will issue a discreet statement saying the child isn’t mine.”
“No one will believe you. Not until the child is born and there can be a DNA test.”
“Perhaps not, but we will have stated our position. No one will publicly defy us. We will be left alone. Maggie will be left alone. That is what matters to me.”
Mukhtar narrowed his gaze. “She means this much to you?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
With that, the king left.
Maggie waited until he was out of the room to turn on Qadir. “Are you insane? What are doing? You can’t go up against your father like that. It’s crazy and wrong. I’m pregnant, Qadir. With another man’s child. I know you don’t want your father picking out your future wife, but this is taking things too far. I can’t stay. Besides, you’re a handsome, rich guy who happens to be a prince. Are you telling me there isn’t one other woman you can think of to play this game?”
She practically spat the last couple of sentences at him. Her eyes flashed with temper so hot, he expected to see flames. Intriguing.
“So much energy,” he told her.
“One of us has to put a little energy into this,” she told him. “You obviously have a head injury. I am pregnant.”
“Despite your repetitions of the facts, I am already aware of that.”
The morning paper had shocked him, but not nearly as much as his reaction to the picture. He’d felt a deep, powerful sense of betrayal. As if he’d been cheated on.
Maggie was his in name only. There was nothing between them … if one ignored the powerful sexual chemistry that drew him at every turn. So why would he care that she was pregnant by another man?
Yet he found himself caring and that reaction was so unexpected, he wanted to know what it meant. So he wasn’t going to let her go. Not yet.
“A month,” he told her. “Stay a month. You can finish the car. If acting as if we are dating is still too difficult, you can leave and I will pay you the full amount for both jobs.”
She started to speak, then stopped. He wondered if she was going to refuse the money. If she could. He knew there were money troubles in her past. It would only take him a few minutes to get someone to find out her exact financial situation. But he chose not to violate her privacy that way. Not until he had to.
“I’ll finish the car,” she said at last. “I want to do that. It means a lot to me.”
“And the rest?”
“I can’t figure out why you’d want to continue to pretend to date me, but it’s your call. For now, I’ll agree.”
That night Maggie curled up on the sofa in Victoria’s suite and sipped the herbal tea her friend had made. Her friend’s rooms were similar to hers, with a stylish living room and French doors leading out to the balcony that wrapped around the palace.
But unlike Maggie, Victoria had added little touches to make the place her own. There were a few prints on the walls, a throw that added color. Colorful masks formed a centerpiece on the dining room table.
“They’re beautiful,” Maggie said. “Where did you find them?”
“The local bazaar. They mostly sell food, but a few times a year they feature work from local craftsmen. I always try to go. I’ve picked up some beautiful jewelry, as well. There’s supposed to be a place in the desert where they make the most exquisite gold. Beautiful woven patterns, like nothing you’ve ever seen. I have a pair of earrings I—”
She started to stand, then sank back onto the sofa. “Sorry. You’re not interested in my earrings.”
“Not even on my best day,” Maggie admitted with a smile. “But I can pretend.”
“No need. I forgot the purpose of our meeting.”
“That’s right. I’m expecting you to fix my life.”
“I’m not sure I’m up to that,” Victoria told her.
“I know. It’s kind of beyond fixing.” Maggie set down her mug and pulled her knees to her chest. “I feel so awful. Not physically,” she added quickly. “I’m fine. In fact if I didn’t know better, I would swear I wasn’t pregnant. Nothing’s different. Shouldn’t I be throwing up or something?”
“That can come later,” her friend told her.
“Something to look forward to.” Maggie sighed. “I just can’t get my mind around the fact that I’m going to have a baby. I’ve been distracted the whole day, thinking about it, but it’s just words. I don’t know how to make it mean anything.”
“You have time.”
“Nine months less six weeks,” Maggie said. “I know the day it happened. The exact day.”
“The last time you were with Jon.”
Maggie nodded.
“So you’re confused,” Victoria said. “That’s not a surprise. You weren’t expecting to end up pregnant. But beyond confusion … is there anything else?”
Maggie tried to probe her heart. What did she feel? “Terror,” she admitted. “I’m not like you. I don’t know how to be a mother.”
Victoria held up both her hands. “Hey, I’m about the least maternal person you know. I can’t keep a plant alive.”
“But you’re so feminine and girly.”
“Knowing how to buy shoes on sale has nothing to do with being maternal. You’re confusing your definitions of feminine. From what you’ve told me about your past, you’ll be a great mother.”
Maggie stared at her. “Why?”
“Because you had a great father. He was totally there for you. He loved you and supported you and only wanted what was best for you. So you know how to do the same. No baby is going to care if you actually knitted the blanket or bought it at a store. What he or she will care about is being loved. And you’re gonna love your baby.”
Maggie felt a twinge of something inside. Something hot and fierce and