Sleeping with the Sheikh. Brenda Jackson
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expression went serious. “If only that were possible.”
Suddenly chilled, she backed out of his embrace. “Don’t look so worried, Sam. I told you I don’t expect anything. I was just spouting off.”
“You have no idea how much I wish that we could be together.” Her heart soared, then fell once again when he declared, “But that is not possible.”
She propped a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’ve always believed that anything’s possible.”
“Not in this instance, Andrea.”
She forced back the unexpected tears burning hot behind her eyes. “Why? Because of your duty? Don’t you realize you could be happy here with us? I’ve seen your happiness, Sam. You smile more now. You’re enjoying yourself, especially with Chance. You might as well be wearing a blindfold if you don’t see it, too.”
He kicked the barrel containing the feed, causing a loud thump that would surely give them away if anyone were nearby. “Of course I am happy here. I have always been happy here. But that does not change my circumstance. I have to see to my obligations.”
How many more times would she have to hear this? “Obligations to whom? Your father?”
“To my…” He looked away. “Yes, to my father. To my people.”
Andi swiped away one rogue tear. “Well, great. I guess that doesn’t include your son.” Or me.
“I have told you I will provide—”
“Money. I know. But that won’t buy you his love, Sam. Your money and your station won’t buy you happiness, either.”
Without a word he yanked open the door and left Andi alone with her sorrow once more. If only he knew how much she loved him. If only he would consider the possibilities. But something was keeping him from doing that, and she wondered if there was more to his resistance than his duty. Something he was failing to tell her.
She intended to find out the sheikh’s secrets, even if it was the last thing she did before he left.
Sam spent the coming days working on the stable with Riley, but he spent the nights in Andrea’s arms. She had proved to be an uninhibited lover, wild in the ways that she pleased him. Each time they were together, he discovered something new about her, acknowledged that she was forever imbedded in his soul.
He engaged in a constant battle between guilt and desire, love and responsibility. His desire and love for Andrea had won out, at least for now. When he took Maila as his wife—if he took her as his wife—he was sentencing himself to a loveless union. And when he took her to his bed, he would forever imagine Andrea.
That would be doing a grave disservice to Maila. She was a good woman who deserved a man who could give more of himself. An educated woman who, like him, agreed to the union out of a sense of obligation to their families. Yet if Sam ended the arrangement, in doing so he would encounter his father’s scorn.
He would have to decide what would be best for everyone involved, a decision that would not come easily. And in a scarce few days, he would be leaving his son, and Andrea.
After his shower, he walked downstairs to find Andrea on the phone. She worried her bottom lip as she spoke quietly. “Okay, sweetie. You sleep tight now, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sam seated himself on the sofa and gestured for Andrea to join him after she replaced the phone in its cradle. The concern in her expression could not be denied, even when she smiled at him.
“That was Chance,” she said. “He wanted to make sure we’re going to pick him up in the limo.”
Sam returned her smile to mask his own worry. “And you assured him that we would?”
“Yes.”
Sam patted the seat beside him. “Come tell me what is troubling you.”
Instead of taking her place next to him, she curled into his lap. He held her tightly, savoring the scent of her shower-damp hair and the softness of her fragile body encased in satin.
“I’m worried about Chance,” she said.
“Is he not well?”
She glanced up at him, then tucked her head beneath his chin. “He says he’s fine, but he sounds tired.”
“I would assume he is tired.”
“I hope that’s all it is.”
He brushed a kiss over her forehead and stroked her hair. “What would lead you to believe otherwise?”
“Mother’s intuition. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid like always.”
“You are only concerned for his well-being, Andrea.”
She sighed. “I know. But when he was almost three, he climbed up on a fence rung and fell backward. He seemed to be okay, but then the next morning he complained about his shoulder. I took him to the doctor and found out he’d broken his collarbone. I should’ve taken him that night.”
Sam tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “It was a simple mistake, Andrea. It does not mean that you don’t care for him.”
“I realize that, but I felt horrible, like a bad mother.”
“You are a wonderful mother,” Sam said adamantly. “I could not have picked a better mother for my child.”
She touched her lips to his cheek, stirring his body and his soul. “Thanks.” After studying him a long moment, she said, “Now tell me what’s bugging you.”
Sam should be surprised that she so easily saw through him, but he wasn’t. It seemed that over the past week they had become totally tuned in to each other’s moods, each other’s needs. Perhaps it had always been that way. Perhaps it always would.
“I’m afraid I have some less-than-satisfactory news.”
Andrea’s frame stiffened in his arms. “What is it?”
“I spoke with my father earlier today. I must return to Barak on Thursday.”
“You weren’t supposed to leave until Sunday.” She stared at him with fire and frustration in her eyes. “So he snaps his fingers and you come running. Wish I knew his secret.”
“It is complicated, Andrea. I do not have the luxury of coming and going as I please.”
She slid off his lap and claimed the place at the end of the sofa. “I’m sorry for you, Sam. It must be awful to have that kind of burden, to not have free will.”
Anger gripped Sam and he struggled to temper his fury. “I have free will. I also have responsibilities.”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I know, I know. But what about your responsibility to your child? You’ve barely spent any time with him. Is this what he’ll have to count on in the future, a father who may or may not come to see him?”
Sam sat forward and lowered his head. “I have been considering that. I can only promise that I will try to be here as much as possible.”
Andrea sighed. “We don’t have much time to decide when to tell him, do we?”
They had little time to be together, as well. “No, we do not.”
Andrea rose from the sofa. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Sam stood. “What time will we leave tomorrow morning to pick up Chance?”
She folded her arms across her breasts and faced him. “Not we, Sam. You.”
He frowned. “I do not understand.”
“I’ve decided you should pick him up by yourself. That way you can have time alone with him to get to know him.”
“But