Claimed by the Desert Sheikh: The Sheikh and the Pregnant Bride / Desert King, Pregnant Mistress / Desert Prince, Expectant Mother

Chapter Eight

Maggie couldn’t believe it. There was her picture and she was clearly holding the pregnancy kits. Who had done that and how? Who walked around with a camera all the …

A cell phone, she thought as she sank onto the sofa and held in a groan. Those girls. Was it possible?

She looked at the grainy picture and realized it was more than possible. It had happened.

She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Remembering that last night with Jon, she knew it had to have happened then. But why did she have to be pregnant? Now? Like this?

She covered her face with her hands, ashamed, embarrassed, confused. This couldn’t be real. She was asleep and she would wake up and be grateful that—

Someone knocked on the door. She didn’t want to answer, but knew she couldn’t hide out in her suite forever. She would have to face Qadir. She winced, thinking about how all this was going to effect him. What must he think of her?

She stood and walked to the door, then sucked in a breath and pulled it open.

She’d been hoping for Victoria. Instead a handsome prince stood in her doorway.

“I see by your expression you’ve seen the morning paper,” he said calmly. “May I come in?”

She stepped back, then closed the door behind him. Heat burned on her cheeks. She had no idea what to say. She’d never planned on getting pregnant in the first place, let alone drag him into the mess, with people assuming the child was his.

“I feel horrible,” she said, knowing she should be the one to start the conversation. “I had no idea about this. You have to believe me.”

“I do.” He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “Jon is the father?”

She nodded. “There was one time, a few weeks ago. I was feeling lost and alone and things just got out of hand.” She pressed her lips together. Okay, not the whole truth, but she was afraid to have him think even less of her by explaining it all in detail.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. “Not that, not the pregnancy. We don’t love each other. He’s with someone else and I’ve moved on.” She was more sure of that by the day. “I can’t believe I’m pregnant.”

Qadir looked at her. “You’ve taken the test to be sure? There is no mistake?”

“I wish there was. I didn’t just take one test, I took three of them. I’m pregnant.”

She waited for a reaction. An immediate statement that their deal was over. Maybe even orders to leave the country. But when he said nothing, she didn’t know what to think. Worse, she couldn’t look at him.

Maybe he was waiting for her to just pack her things and go. Her previous life hadn’t prepared her for a situation like this. Everything was awkward enough, but his royal status added a whole new level of embarrassment to the conversation.

“This creates a complication,” he said at last.

Despite everything she smiled. “You do have a talent for understatement.”

“Jon will not be expecting you to be pregnant.”

“Probably not.” She drew in a deep breath. Okay—fine. She could be the one to say it. “Look, I know why you’re here. You want me to understand that with things being the way they are, our deal is off. I get that. In your situation, I’d feel exactly the same way. But I’d really like to finish the car. I can do a beautiful job and being pregnant isn’t going to make me any less skilled. To be honest, I need the job. I don’t have health insurance and once I start to show, no one is going to want to hire me.”

She felt panic flaring inside of her but refused to give in to it. Under the circumstances, she felt slimy enough just begging for her job. If she had any pride—or money in the bank—she would simply walk away. If it was just her, she would. But she now had a baby to think of.

A baby?

She pressed her hand to her stomach. No way. There couldn’t be life growing inside her. She couldn’t sense it. She didn’t feel any different. Shouldn’t she have a maternal connection or at least a clue?

“Do you want to leave?” he asked.

“What? Of course not.”

“I have not suggested you should go.”

“But I’m pregnant.”

He nodded. “And people will assume the child is mine. What does it say about me that I let you leave the country?”

Maggie sank onto the sofa. She hadn’t thought about that. “You’ll have to issue a statement or something. Tell them it’s not your baby. Some kind of official denial. People will think badly of me rather than you.” Which she hated, but how could they get around that?

“Who will believe the child isn’t mine?” he asked. “We have been seen together.”

“Only for a short time and the baby not being yours is the truth.”

“Why would that matter?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Good point, she thought, feeling alone and confused. Since when was truth a priority when it came to gossip?

“I’ll tell the truth,” she said slowly, hating that she would be known as a slut in public. “That I was with someone else. You’re off the hook.”

“You don’t want to do that,” he told her. “You will not enjoy the attention.”

“I agree, but what choice is there? You’re not taking the blame for this. You can’t be the bad guy. I’m responsible.”

“I’m the prince.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“None of this would have happened if I hadn’t asked you to lie on my behalf. I’m the one who put you in the public eye.”

“I went willingly.” She’d sold her soul for money. Her father would be so disappointed with her.

Before she could give in to that blow, the door to her suite opened and King Mukhtar swept inside. He held the paper in one hand.

“Is it true?” he demanded, glaring first at Qadir, then at her. “You are pregnant?”

If Maggie had thought she would squeeze in, she would have crawled under the sofa. But before she could make an attempt, Qadir pulled her to her feet and stepped in front of her, as if offering protection.

“This is none of your business,” he said coolly as he faced his father.

“It is my business,” the king told him angrily. “Is she pregnant? If so, the child cannot be yours. Unless you were seeing her before and brought her here specifically to meet me. Which you should have told me. Qadir, I demand to know what’s going on.”

Maggie cringed. “Your Highness,” she began, only to have Qadir shake his head.

“Is it your child?” the king asked his son. “If so, I insist you marry her immediately. I understand having the wedding after the child is born is very fashionable these days, but this is my palace. I will not have it so.”

“The baby isn’t Qadir’s,” she whispered, wishing she really could disappear into the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Qadir 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 powerful. A baby. Was it possible?

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve made me feel better. So that’s one problem down and four thousand left. I’m pregnant.”

Victoria smiled. “I know.”

“This is a huge complication.”

“It usually is.”

“I’m going to have to deal with Jon at some point.”

“True.”

“This isn’t going to make him happy.”

“You’ll figure something out.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t want to think about Jon just then. “I felt bad about that picture being in the paper. It was incredibly humiliating for me, but I also felt awful about Qadir. That he got dragged into this.”

Victoria sipped her tea. “An interesting way of looking at things. A case could be made that he dragged you into things by offering up the deal in the first place.”

“He didn’t know I was pregnant. He never would have said anything if he had.”

“Agreed. My point is that he started things going by wanting to pretend to date you.”

“Maybe. I just hate that now he has to deal with my problem.”

“Because you like him.”

“Of course I like him. He’s a great guy. He defended me to the king.”

Maggie still couldn’t believe how Qadir had stood up for her. While she hated to cause trouble in the family, she couldn’t help feeling safe and protected, even just for the moment.

“I find it fascinating that he still wants to see you,” Victoria said. “Even after knowing you’re pregnant by another man.”

“I know. I don’t get it, either. I told him we should break things off. That the public would totally understand him dumping me.” She shivered slightly. “I’ll admit I hated the idea of being branded a slut in the press, but I’m responsible for what I did, so it was only fair that I was the one who got stuck. I said I really wanted to finish the car, but nothing else.”

“He didn’t agree.”

“I can’t figure out why. What’s in it for him? There’s going to be speculation about the baby no matter what anyone says. I wonder if I made a mistake in agreeing.”

“Isn’t the bigger question whether or not Qadir made a mistake in asking you to stay.”

Maggie didn’t want to think about that, but she knew her friend was telling the truth. “Probably.”

“But that’s not the most interesting part,” Victoria said. “What I find intriguing is that Prince Qadir of El Deharia, who could admittedly have nearly any woman he wanted, has chosen you.”

Maggie straightened. “What?”

“He picked you to play the game for a lot of reasons. You’re pretty, he thought he could spend time in your company without going crazy, that sort of thing. But it was a deal. A monetary transaction. Yet suddenly, it’s more than that. When faced with trouble, instead of running, he’s standing by you.”

“He’s just that kind of person.”

Victoria laughed. “I promise you, if Nadim and I had the same kind of arrangement and I had turned up pregnant, he would have kicked me to the curb so fast there would be skid marks.”

“Then why would you want to marry a man like that?”

Victoria sighed. “Good question. I had these big plans to marry for money and spend the rest of my life totally secure. But apparently I picked the wrong prince. The more I look at how Qadir is with you, the less I like Nadim. I’ve been working with him for two years and he hasn’t noticed me. What kind of idiot is he?”

“One you should forget about. Do you really need to marry for money? What about love?”

“Love is for fools,” Victoria said firmly. “I will never be a fool for love. But you’re right about me forgetting Nadim. He may be a prince, but he’s a boring twit of a man and I’m so over him.”

Maggie grinned. “That would be a more impressive statement if you’d ever actually cared about him.”

“I know.” Victoria drank more of her tea. “Maybe I can find a nice diplomat in the foreign office. Someone who comes from money.”

“Would you get off the money thing?”

“I can’t. You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid you’re going to lose everything. That’s how I grew up. There were plenty of nights I watched my mother go hungry because there was only food for one. I vowed that I would never be like her—never give my heart to a jerk who walked on it and used her, thinking only of himself.”

Maggie didn’t know about her friend’s past. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Me, too.” Victoria sighed. “Wow—talk about getting carried away. I didn’t mean to shift the conversation that way. We were talking about you. Have you considered that he defended you because he doesn’t want you to leave?”

Maggie blinked several times. Victoria’s words floated through her brain, forming images, then fading, but never disappearing completely.

“It can’t be that,” she said at last.

“Why not?”

Because … Because …

“He’s just being kind.”

Victoria wrinkled her nose. “He’s a sheik, honey. Kind isn’t one of the descriptors. Arrogant, powerful, determined. Those all work. But kind? No way.”