The Sheikh's Baby Bet Read online

  “Just a special bouquet for my special family,” he said. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned heavily against the counter, gazing at her.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Tiffany asked him, laughing. “You’re making me feel like I have three heads, on top of this extra twenty pounds.”

  “I want to take you out tonight,” the Sheikh said suddenly, his voice deep.

  “Out?”

  Tiffany and the Sheikh hadn’t been seen out together in the months since he’d come back into her life. They’d been incredibly careful, ensuring that the newspapers didn’t know her name. Their headlines, which kept up the “baby or no baby?” rhetoric, never caught on.

  “I just don’t think we should hide anymore,” the Sheikh affirmed. “Your father’s already made the first step and resigned. The people are curious. Why can’t we tell the world about our happiness? Why can’t we show them how beautiful you are?”

  Tiffany’s cheeks grew red. She glanced out the window, her eyes focusing on the private car waiting below.

  “I suppose I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she smiled. “The car’s still waiting.”

  “I can send him away the minute you say no,” the Sheikh said. After a pause, he continued in a whisper, “But please don’t say no.”

  “Fine,” Tiffany sighed. “Let me find something to wear that doesn’t make me look like a house.”

  “You look beautiful,” the Sheikh told her. His voice was somber, sincere, and it struck a chord in Tiffany’s chest.

  Catching her breath, she entered her bedroom and donned a black dress which showed off her new curves. Swiping a brush through her hair, she smiled at herself in the mirror. She only had to wait a few more weeks until the birth of her baby boy. At that time, she would have to make a decision: should she stay in Al Barait and allow the Sheikh to help her raise the child? They would be in the public eye, and her child would be the heir to the throne. Even if they weren’t connected romantically, they would raise the child together. Or should she go back to America and start over on her own?

  It didn’t matter. Not then. She would lean into these last moments before the birth. She would enjoy each and every breath.

  Once in the car, the Sheikh reached across the seats and held onto Tiffany’s hand. He spoke amicably about a meeting he’d had that morning with the ambassador from France. They’d eaten bread and cheese, enough to make him need to take a nap immediately after. “I don’t know how these French people stay so thin,” he said, patting his stomach and chuckling. “But if I ate like this guy every single day, I’d weigh more than a horse.”

  “Or even more than me,” Tiffany laughed.

  “Hey now, stop speaking so unkindly about this body,” the Sheikh told her, moving his hand from hers, up toward her shoulder. He squeezed it tight. “It’s the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.”

  The car dropped them at an exclusive downtown restaurant, situated at the top of a skyscraper. The Sheikh led Tiffany proudly down the sidewalk, surrounded by two bodyguards for the transition from car to door. He waved at the few people passing, giving them bright smiles.

  Tiffany’s heart hammered in her chest as people gazed at her large belly, connecting her with the Sheikh. She was the mother of his child. Of course. But was she pretty enough for him? Was she good enough? She couldn’t assess the faces clearly enough.

  Just moments later, they were in the elevator, darting up to the very top of the skyscraper.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” the Sheikh asked her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  “I suppose it had to happen sometime,” Tiffany breathed. She stuttered slightly, then moved her hands to fix her hair in the elevator mirror. Moments ticked by, during which she prepped herself for when the elevator doors would open again to reveal the crowded restaurant. Surely, someone would take their photograph, someone would put it on social media and it would be all over the news stations before dawn.

  The doors opened. The restaurant was incredibly regal, with marble floors and pillars, along with a dramatic staircase that led down to the lower floors.

  As she took it all in, Tiffany realized that the tables and chairs had been shoved to the side of the restaurant to create a small central area. That area was filled with comfortable couches and chairs, and a banner strung above it that read, “Congratulations!” in large block letters.

  Tiffany stepped onto the marble, bringing her hands to her mouth. She realized then that the only people within the restaurant were her friends, her father, and her co-workers. Alongside them, some of the Sheikh’s old friends, from before his coronation, ate and chatted, laughing amicably and stacking presents on a side table. Another table was set up with food, drinks, cakes, and other desserts, all stacked together and glittering in the light from the candelabra above.

  “What did you do?” Tiffany asked the Sheikh, her eyes wide.

  “Tiffany. You didn’t think I’d let you get away with not having a baby shower, did you?” the Sheikh said. He leaned down and kissed her cheek once more before embracing her tightly.

  Tiffany crept toward the crowd who all stood up to greet her, dropping their filled plates to the side and clapping their hands. Zarina reached forward, gripping Tiffany’s hand and whispering loudly, “I helped him, but it was his idea. The entire thing!” Her eyes were bright with excitement.

  Beside Zarina, Tiffany’s father stood, looking apprehensive and shifting his weight from foot to foot. As the Sheikh approached, Tiffany waved him closer, knowing that Kazra and her father had had very little interaction so far, despite being two of the most important figures in her life.

  “Dad. This is Kazra. Kazra, this is my father,” she said, splaying her hands out between them. She blinked from first Kazra’s face, then her father’s, waiting for the fireworks to fly. During her first two years in Al Barait, she’d know her father’s distaste for the Sheikh. And now, she was asking the impossible.

  But things had changed. Everything had. Her father reached forth and gripped Kazra’s hand, shaking it firmly. He gave Kazra a wide grin. “Welcome to the family, Kazra,” he told him.

  “And welcome to mine,” Kazra agreed. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  After a pause, Mike’s face changed slightly, becoming more relaxed. He laughed, glancing at Tiffany, his eyes wide. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier or more excited about a thing in my life. This grandchild…”

  “If he grows to be half the man that you are, then I’ll be happy,” Kazra said, his voice booming.

  Tiffany crept along the line of guests, meeting up with several of the men she half-remembered from that terrible afternoon at the car show. They gave her sheepish grins, wrapping their arms around both her and the Sheikh. One of them, the skinny one who’d given the game away, patted her on the shoulder in a sort of jock way.

  “Bet you never thought you’d be here today!” he cried. “Not after…”

  “She’s found a way to forgive me,” Kazra interrupted, rubbing his hand up her spine. “Although I certainly don’t deserve it.”

  His friends laughed, looking like boys alongside the Sheikh, who had somehow become a man over the last few months.

  Tiffany leaned heavily against him, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. She watched as Mallory and Zarina organized desserts and cupcakes on a wide tray; as her father began a conversation with another friend from her first year in Al Barait, cackling at her always unfortunate jokes. As her head spun, she looked up at Kazra and, in a wild impulse, rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, inhaling his scent. This was their first kiss, since the night they had slept together, and it was absolutely delicious.

  The Sheikh broke the kiss and pressed his lips together. His eyes closed with joy. Beneath the fabric of his suit, Tiffany could feel his heart hammering, one beat after another. It was as if their hearts beat as one.

  That’s when she felt it. Her stomach cramped. She gasped, realizing
this wasn’t a normal, everyday cramp. The pain bolted up and down her spine, making her eyes close. Seconds later, she felt an immense pressure and then a strange release as water began to trickle down her legs. She blinked several times, realizing suddenly what was happening.

  It was time.

  “Are you okay?” the Sheikh asked her, sounding breathless. “Do we need to go?”

  “I think so,” Tiffany replies breathlessly.

  “What’s going on?” Zarina asked them, turning sharply. “Tiffany? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s starting,” the Sheikh said, sounding panicked. “We need to get her to the hospital. Immediately.”

  Suddenly, what had begun as a baby shower erupted with panic and excitement. Mallory reached for a cupcake and gobbled it whole, watching as everything devolved. The Sheikh leaned down and whispered in Tiffany’s ear, “Can you make it to the car?”

  “I think so,” Tiffany murmured back.

  Her father bolted forward, gripping her other hand. “Do you need me to take her?” he asked Kazra, his voice bold and dark.

  “No. I’ve got this,” the Sheikh said. “Let me bring help bring my son into this world.”

  Mike stepped back, watching as Tiffany and the Sheikh thrust toward the elevator, back where they’d come. As the elevator swooshed down to the first floor, Tiffany experienced another cramp. It rippled through her whole body, making her cry out with fear. She gripped Kazra’s hand with the intensity of a wild animal. The man looked completely undone. He was no longer the polished Sheikh everyone saw on television. He was a sweating father-to-be. He was anxious.

  When they reached the outdoors, Tiffany realized that the paparazzi had gathered. In the few minutes since they’d entered the party, just as she had predicted, whoever had seen them outside had made a call, putting this deeply personal moment directly in the spotlight. Cameras flashed around her. She tried her best to smile, knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do about this.

  The Sheikh held up his hand, guiding her through the crowd. His hand wrapped around the handle of the private car door, pulling it open and allowing Tiffany to make a quick escape. Once inside, he wrapped his arms around her and told the driver to head to the hospital. “As fast as you can do it, Omar.”

  “Sir, we’re surrounded by the paparazzi. I’m afraid I can’t move that quickly without hitting some of them,” Omar said, his voice regretful.

  “Dammit.”

  Suddenly, the Sheikh stood, opening the car’s top window. He stood at the top, glaring out at the paparazzi. In a booming, commanding voice, he said, “Attention, everyone. As you can see, the mother of my child has just gone into labor. While I will address all of your questions at a later date, at this time, we must get to the hospital. And I need your cooperation! Please, you must move!”

  The paparazzi murmured their assent. They began to crunch back onto the sidewalk, creating a path for the car. Tiffany exhaled, closing her eyes tight as another contraction lanced through her. The Sheikh was going to get them out of there. He was forging the way.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tiffany had never truly thought through the mechanics of giving birth. She’d gone to all the pre-natal classes, read all the books, but couldn’t imagine her actual body doing, well, that.

  With her legs in the stirrups, she inhaled and exhaled with the nurse beside her, clinging to the Sheikh’s hand. “You’re going to break my bones,” he said, joking with her. She countered his joke with a quavering smile.

  Their baby boy was born after almost eight hours of labor. After taking him away to clean him, the nurse returned with the small, glowing baby wrapped in a blue blanket. The nurse’s eyes were directed at Kazra, first. He was ruler of the country, after all. But the Sheikh pointed at Tiffany, whispering, “She did all the work. Give him to her.”

  Tiffany found herself holding her bright-eyed baby boy. He was impossibly small, peering up at her curiously. She felt shocked. Her lips parted, searching for the right words to say. Nothing came.

  “He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Kazra murmured. He leaned toward her and kissed her, reminding her that he was there. That they were alive, together. All three of them.

  Feeling like she might go crazy with a strange mix of fear and wonder, Tiffany passed her baby to Kazra. Her heart burst as she watched him gaze down into his baby’s eyes.

  Everything was different. But everything felt exactly and wonderfully right.

  Later, the nurse placed the baby in a small bassinet at the side of Tiffany’s bed, and the three of them slept, with the Sheikh collapsed in a chair beside the bed. For hours, they slumbered, all exhausted in their own way.

  When they awoke, the waiting room was a collection of their friends from the baby shower, who had brought the party to them. Zarina burst into the room first, her eyes alight with happiness. She reached for Tiffany and hugged her tightly, exclaiming, “You did it, girl! You’re the strongest person I know in this world.”

  “I didn’t feel all that strong a few hours ago,” Tiffany laughed. She gazed down at her baby, watching as Zarina peered inside the bassinet. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

  Zarina tapped her finger against the baby’s tiny ones. “Have you talked about a name yet?” She paused, then mouthed the name that Tiffany had had planned all along. Her grandfather’s name. “Jackson?”

  Tiffany looked over at the Sheikh. He’d watched the exchange with amused eyes. “A western name for the next Sheikh?” he asked, laughing.

  “What a perfect way to merge your families,” Zarina smiled.

  With these words, Zarina reminded Tiffany of a horrible truth. Glancing toward the window that stretched between her bedroom and the outside world, she saw her father peering back at her. He waved, gazing at her sadly. The baby coming early meant that he would have to leave his position as Ambassador sooner than anticipated. But he didn’t seem to care about that right now. He swept his finger across his eyes, trying to hide his tears.

  “I think Dad wants to come in,” Tiffany whispered. “Kazra, do you mind?”

  But already, Kazra was walking toward the door. He opened it, gesturing for Mike to enter. The moment the men passed one another, Kazra pulled the older man against him in a firm embrace. Holding him close, he said, “You’re a grandpa.”

  Tiffany watched as Zarina passed the swaddled baby to her father. Mike gazed into the tiny face, as if trying to memorize it. When Tiffany felt the silence would go on forever, he whispered, “I’m so glad I got to see him.”

  Tiffany felt the tears course down her cheeks. In the silence that fell between them, she realized she couldn’t leave Kazra. Her life was here, in Al Barait; their life was here. Which meant only one thing. She’d have to say goodbye.

  But Kazra stepped forward. He cleared his throat, saying, “Mike, I know you’ve sent in your resignation. I’ve just gotten word that your replacement is on his way. But…” He trailed off, gazing at the tears on Tiffany’s cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you need to leave.”

  Mike still clung to the baby, staring up at the Sheikh. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you don’t need to rely on your visa. I’ll work it out. You can stay in the palace with me. Speaking of which, Tiff…” He trailed off, turning his attention to Tiffany. “I want you and our child to move to the palace with me. I never want to let you go. Not for another minute.”

  Tiffany felt herself reaching for him, body and soul. The Sheikh wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He inhaled and kissed her neck, her cheek, finally landing on her lips. They shared a passionate, soulful kiss, and Tiffany felt their tears mingling as their faces touched. As the kiss broke, they stared into one another’s eyes.

  “I have not been able to say this before. But you are every bit as worthy to be Sheikh, just as your father before you,” Mike said, bowing his head to the Sheikh. “I would be honored to remain at the palace with you.”

  In the silenc
e that followed, their baby began to cry. It was his first cry, and it was soft and broken, as if he didn’t yet know how to complain about all the pain he felt now that he was in the world.

  The baby was passed to his mother, who clung to him tightly as her best friend and her father stepped out so as to give the new family some privacy. In that moment, Tiffany and Kazra felt the future shift. Whatever they did, now, would be for their family.

  For Tiffany, the first thoughts she would have every morning would be about Kazra and her baby, for the rest of her life. She felt full of love, in a way she couldn’t have imagined before. Happiness, far from her country. Happiness, where she’d built herself a new home.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  The year since Jackson’s birth had passed in a whirlwind. The baby wiggled in his crib, blinking up at his mother and father. Downstairs, his first birthday party raged on, with friends and relatives from all over the world in attendance. They squabbled and laughed and danced in the ballroom. A giant cake was situated on a round table, decorated with dinosaurs and lions and tigers, all in fondant frosting. But upstairs, on the landing, baby Jackson was grumbling.

  “It’s time for the two of you to relax,” Mike said, taking the baby and heading toward the nursery. “All your friends are here. Go. Have a good time.”

  “But what about you, Dad?” Tiffany asked. She tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling drained. In some sense, she was envious that her father was taking this opportunity to make an exit. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  “I don’t need to party,” Mike laughed, cradling the baby. “Jackson and I have some catching up to do. Don’t we little man?”

  Kazra nodded, giving Tiffany a wide smile. “I suppose we’re doomed to have a good time. Do you think you can handle it?”

  Without leaving Tiffany a moment to change her mind, he wrapped his arms around her and whirled her around, allowing her light dress to flow through the air. He kissed her deeply, closing his eyes. When she glanced back down the hall, her father was already worlds away, with the baby in tow.