The Prince & the Pregnant Princess (15 page)

He motioned to a bench in the shade of several palms. It was a frequent stopping place for them on their twice-weekly walks.

Cleo settled on the stone bench and rested her hand on her belly. Based on her growing girth, she found it difficult to believe she still had over two months left.

“As long as I can have a Christmas tree for the suite,” she said, smiling at her father-in-law. “I love the smell of pine.”

“Something we do not have here in our world.” He nodded. “I have already arranged for the palace to be a winter wonderland, specifically for your pleasure.”

His kindness made her feel all weepy inside. “You’re spoiling me.”

“I enjoy the process. Besides, you are the honored mother of my firstborn grandson.”

Cleo had thought that Hassan’s attention to her might drop off once he found out that Sabrina was pregnant, but so far that had not happened. Perhaps he actually liked her for herself. Since returning to
Bahania
, she’d spent much time with the king. While he still had the power to make her incredibly nervous, she enjoyed his company and their times together.

“Tell me of your studies,” he said as he leaned down to pet one of the palace cats that strolled along the path.

Cleo shifted to get comfortable. “They’re going really well. I figure that realistically I won’t actually be taking classes at the university until next fall. When the baby comes, I want to be free to get used to being a mother. But until then, I’m working hard. I actually have three tutors now.”

Hassan raised his eyebrows. “How many subjects are you…” He frowned. “What is the phrase?”

“Brushing up on.”

“Ah. That is it.”

Cleo shrugged, feeling vaguely guilty. “Well, it’s gotten a little more complicated than that. Alice was my first tutor. She helps me with my general knowledge and study habits. I’m learning how to read a textbook and understand the central points and how to take notes. She started talking to me about
Bahanian
history. I found it really interesting, but she doesn’t consider herself an expert, so one day a week I see
Luja
. She’s lived in the old part of the city all her life. She’s got to be close to a hundred. Anyway, she knows practically everything about
Bahania
, so we talk about history and politics.”

Hassan touched her hand. “I am most proud of you, child.”

Cleo ducked her head. “Yeah, well, I’m doing it because it’s interesting.”

“Learning about your new homeland is most wise. And who is your third tutor?”

“That’s the funny part. Alice was going over some basic math stuff with me and I found I really liked it.” Cleo shook her head, still amazed by what she was discovering about herself. “The thing is, I’m also really good at it. So she’s brought in a math tutor.
Shereen
is taking me through basic algebra and next up is geometry. I can’t wait.”

“So Zara isn’t the only smart one in your family.”

“I guess not.” Hard to believe but true, she thought happily. All those years ago she’d never given school a chance. How would her life have been different if she’d found even one thing to be good at? Maybe she wouldn’t have made so many stupid choices in her personal life.

“And my grandson’s room is ready for his arrival?”

Cleo didn’t even bother correcting Hassan’s assumption about the baby’s gender.

She’d grown tired of fighting that particular battle. She just hoped she was focused enough to enjoy the moment should her baby turn out to be a girl.

“We’re nearly done,” she said, then laughed. “Technically the room is completely empty, but we’ve ordered what we need, and I’ve chosen several pieces from the palace warehouse. Those things are being cleaned.”

She and
Sadik
had spent a fabulous day strolling through a massive building stuffed with
Bahanian
treasures. She had been careful to avoid anything from
Sadik’s
past as she didn’t want to spark painful memories. Even now, when she recalled what he’d told her about his mother, she felt a knot form in her stomach. How could a woman just turn her back on her child? Not that her mother hadn’t done the same sort of thing.

Maybe that was why she found it so easy to love
Sadik
. On the surface they were nothing alike, but underneath they were very much the same.

Hassan touched her face. “I see a trace of sadness in your eyes. You are thinking about my son.”

His announcement should have startled her, but she’d grown used to the fact that her father-in-law could be very perceptive.

“I am content,” she said quietly. “He’s a good man and a caring husband. He is eager for our child. We enjoy each other’s company. There is respect. Isn’t that enough? To want more is to wish for the moon.”

“How dark the night sky would be without the light of the moon.”

“But she travels on her own path and cannot be ordered to appear.”

He smiled. “You are learning the ways of the desert.”

She was learning because every morning
Sadik
spoke lovingly to their unborn child, teaching him or her about the ways of
Bahania
. She supposed he was as much a tutor for her as any of her other instructors. From him she had learned about the lineage of the famed
Bahanian
stallions, and how to tell if the birds circling in the sky told of water nearby.

“The desert is now my home,” Cleo reminded the king. “I must learn her ways and respect them.”

“What of the sadness in your eyes?”

She didn’t want to think about that. “In time it will fade.”

“Because you will come to love him less?”

She wasn’t surprised that he had guessed her secret. How hard could it have been? “In time I will get used to the situation.”

“Will you get used to him not loving you back?”

The blunt question made her wince. “Yes.” Because she didn’t have a choice. She refused to live her life being unhappy. “In time the friendship and respect will be enough for me.”

Hassan frowned. “My son is a fool but not an idiot. In time he will see the treasure he holds cannot be replaced.”

“Maybe.”

Cleo wasn’t confident that
Sadik
would ever be willing to let go of his past.

The memory of
Kamra
was too important to him. And as long as the ghost of his late fiancée had a hold on his heart, he would never be able to offer it to her.

The nurse motioned for Cleo to step up on the scale. Cleo kicked off her sandals and thought light thoughts as she did as requested. The digital number rose upward at an alarming rate, causing her heart to sink in direct proportion. When it finally stopped, she stared, unable to believe anyone her height could actually weigh that much.

“Dr. Johnson is going to have my head on a platter,” she muttered as she slipped back into her shoes. “She warned me on my last visit not to gain more than a pound a week.”

Sadik
dismissed her concerns. “You are a vision of health and beauty. If your blood pressure is normal, then Dr. Johnson will not be concerned.”

“Uh-huh.”

Cleo was not convinced. She knew that the combination of stress and fabulous palace food had her eating a whole lot more than she was supposed to. She followed the nurse into the examining room and gingerly shifted her body onto the table.

The nurse put the cuff around her arm and began pumping in air. A minute later she released the cuff and announced that Cleo’s blood pressure continued to be in the excellent range.

“That’s something,” Cleo muttered, still bracing herself for the lecture.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have long to prepare.

One of the advantages—or disadvantages, depending on the day—of being a member of the royal family was that one did not linger in doctor waiting rooms or examining rooms. Dr. Johnson, a tall, blond woman in her late forties, entered on the heels of the nurse leaving. She studied the chart attached to a clipboard, then raised her head to look at Cleo.

Cleo instantly felt like a two-year-old caught with her fingers in the cookie jar. Only, in her case it had been a lot more than cookies.

“I know,” she began. “You said a pound a week, which would mean four pounds, right? But it’s seven. I’ve been trying to be good.”

Sadik
bent over and kissed her mouth. “Enough. You need not explain.” He smiled at the doctor. “Her blood pressure remains normal and there is no edema in her hands and feet. I check them daily for swelling.”

Dr. Johnson looked impressed. “You’re a most attentive father-to-be, Your Highness.”

Sadik
nodded. “Cleo is my wife. She carries my son. What could be more important than her well-being?”

When he talked like that, Cleo got all tingly inside. She knew he didn’t mean it the way she wanted him to, but as she’d decided several weeks before, she was determined to make what she had with
Sadik
be enough.

Dr. Johnson sighed. “You’re right, Your Highness. But a few less calories each day would improve her well-being.” She turned her attention to Cleo. “Your urine sample is fine, as well. No excess sugar. You’re doing great.”

“If getting a little chubby.”

Sadik
picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “You remain, as ever, a goddess.”

“I wish my husband said that to me,” Dr. Johnson muttered, then grinned. “Guess I should have fallen for a prince, huh?”

Cleo smiled weakly, as she took the paper gown the doctor handed her. She wasn’t sure she would recommend handing one’s heart over to a member of the royal family—it wasn’t a recipe for happiness.

Five minutes later she’d undressed and draped the paper gown over herself. As she climbed back onto the table, Dr. Johnson wheeled the ultrasound machine into place.

Sadik
hovered through the routine exam. Dr. Johnson explained about uterus size and baby placement while
Sadik
fired off several questions. They all listened to the steady beat of the baby’s heart, then the doctor squirted warm gel onto Cleo’s belly in preparation for the ultrasound.

Cleo turned so she could see the monitor.
Sadik
moved close, taking her hand in his.

“All right. Let’s check out the royal baby,” Dr. Johnson said as she moved the wand over Cleo’s stomach.

Images began to form. Although Cleo had seen her growing infant before, her heart quickened at the sight of the tiny body thriving inside of her. She caught her breath and clutched
Sadik’s
fingers tightly in her own.

“There’s the head,” Dr. Johnson said, pointing at the screen. “Spine, arms, legs. Now if we can just get the royal prince or princess to move slightly, we can determine the gender.” She glanced up. “You did want to know, right?”

Sadik
shrugged. “We know. Our child will be a boy.”

Cleo rolled her eyes. “Yes. I would love to know if you see anything. Despite my husband’s insistence, I’m not convinced of anything yet.”

Dr. Johnson shifted position, trying for another angle. “I see shadows, but nothing definite. Sorry. It’s impossible to tell.”

Cleo stared at the screen. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly. She reached out to touch the image. “As long as the baby is healthy and growing, that’s all that’s important.”

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the waiting limo.
Sadik
had his arm around her, pulling her close. Cleo welcomed his attention.

“Isn’t it amazing?” she murmured when they were seated on the smooth, leather seat. “Every time we see the baby, I can’t believe it’s real.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “Life is such a miracle.”

“Our miracle,”
Sadik
told her, resting his hand on top of hers. “Our child.”

His dark eyes burned with a fire that made her heart race. In that moment they shared something more profound than being married. Together they had formed a new being. Wonder didn’t begin to describe what she felt, but she saw the answering emotion on
Sadik’s
face. She reached for him at the same moment he drew her close.

Sadik’s
mouth was firm and passionate, his lips an inescapable seduction. She supposed that, as pregnant as she was, she shouldn’t want to make love with her husband, but she couldn’t help responding to his desire…or her own. Dr. Johnson had said they could keep being intimate until she told them otherwise.

Sadik
breathed her name. His long fingers traced the curves of her face, even as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues stroked and circled. Low in her belly she felt the familiar tension.

The drive back to the palace had never been so long. Despite the raised privacy partition separating them from the driver, she knew that nothing more than kissing would happen until they reached their rooms. Somehow the anticipation made everything even more intense.

Finally they arrived back at the palace. Giggling like teenagers, they raced through the hallways of the palace, heading for their private suite.
Sadik
opened the door, then quickly drew her inside.

They were pulling clothes off each other, even as they moved toward the bedroom.

He touched her everywhere, arousing her to the point of frenzy. When they sprawled onto the bed, they quickly found their way into the side position they’d been using for the past few weeks. It allowed them to face each other while they made love, without having to worry about her growing belly.

Cleo arched in pleasure as he moved into her. His arousal filled her completely.

One of his hands stroked her intimately, making it impossible to keep from gasping in delight. They stared at each other. She studied the handsome face that had become so familiar to her.

“We’re having a baby together,” she whispered.

His slow, happy, proud smile touched her heart. “I know,” he told her, speaking softly. “I saw him today. We both saw him.”

Yes, she thought even as passion overwhelmed her. They had both seen the baby, and that connection bound them together for life.

He moved his hand faster and she lost herself in her release.
Sadik
soon followed, calling out her name and clinging to her. When they were finally able to catch their breath, he stroked her face and traced the outline of her mouth.

“You are my wife,” he said. “I am your husband. And so we will be until we die.”

A simple truth, she thought. Inevitable. Why had she been avoiding the inevitable? Her heart swelled with her feelings until she had no choice but to voice them. She kissed his mouth.

“I love you,
Sadik
.”

He froze, as if he had suddenly been cast in stone. Then his eyes darkened and he pulled her against him.

“I am glad,” he said. “That is as it should be. You will love me well, and now you will be content to stay.”

He continued to talk, but she couldn’t hear the words. She didn’t think she was even capable of breathing. Had her heart stopped? Had she been cast in stone?

Eventually
Sadik
rose and dressed. He urged her to rest for the afternoon, and because she couldn’t move or speak, she didn’t argue. Instead she lay under the covers he’d pulled up around her and stared at the ceiling. Eventually something warm and wet trickled down her temple into her hair. She touched the spot, only to find tears.

An awful pain filled her chest. Hopelessness overwhelmed her. In that moment, at the doctor’s office, she had opened her heart to
Sadik
in a way she’d never opened to anyone before. She’d allowed her love to grow until it overwhelmed common sense. On a rush of feeling, she’d handed over her heart. And he had taken it without offering anything in return.

Cleo knew she’d lived through more disappointments than many people. Her mother’s continual abandonment, both emotional and physical, had left her scarred. Her teenage search for love, when she’d been foolish enough to think that sex was the answer. Her mistake in judgment with Ian. All those events had wounded, bringing her to her knees, but she’d always been able to get up, figure out what she’d done wrong, learn from it and start over. For the first time in her life she felt defeated.

She couldn’t win this battle, because the enemy was a ghost.
Sadik
would never love her. It didn’t matter how much respect they had between them or how many children bound them together. He would never love her.

Until this moment she’d avoided the truth. Now that she faced it, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

Three days later Cleo realized that her continued weight gain wasn’t going to be a problem. She didn’t want to eat, she couldn’t sleep and every inch of her body ached as if she’d been dropped from a three-story building.

She forced herself to choke down food because of the baby. For the same reason, she went to bed each night. But while
Sadik
slept, she stared at the ceiling. As for the pain…she knew it was simply the physical manifestation of her broken spirit. She had played a high-stakes game and she had lost.

In the cool of the morning she walked toward the garden where she was due to meet the king for their time together. She’d dressed in a bright-blue dress and had applied more makeup than usual in an effort to disguise her distress. She even managed to smile at the sight of the king of
Bahania
being batted at by two calico kittens.

Hassan heard her step and glanced up. He smiled in welcome, then set the kittens on the ground and rose from the bench. His expression changed from pleased to angry in the space of a heartbeat.

“What is wrong?” he demanded by way of greeting.

Apparently she hadn’t done such a great job of concealing her distress.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I haven’t been feeling that well in the past couple of days.

I think I have a touch of the flu.”

Hassan cupped her face in his hand and stared into her eyes. “Child, you are a constant delight to me. However, you are not an accomplished liar. What I see in your eyes has nothing to do with the flu. Tell me what troubles you.”

His concern was more than she could resist. Unwelcome tears filled her eyes. She closed her eyes and spoke the truth.

“I’m dying inside,” she whispered. “Please, Your Highness, don’t make me stay here.”

The king led her to the bench. After she was seated, he handed her one of the kittens. Cleo stroked the soft fur and felt sharp claws dig into her hand. The small body was warm. When the kitten nestled onto her palm and leaned against her chest, a low rumbling purr burst forth. The sound was far too big for the baby creature’s size. Through her tears she smiled.

“She’s very beautiful,” she said as she stroked the kitten’s head.

“She has much spirit, that one.” Hassan sat next to her and picked up the other kitten. “Her mother isn’t purebred like most of my cats. She is not a particularly good hunter, but there is something about her heart. She loves with all her being.” He shifted the kitten in his arms so he could stroke its belly.

The kitten collapsed with delight.

“This will be her last litter,” he said. “Each time her kittens grow and we give them away, she suffers greatly. For weeks she is sad. Sometimes she will not eat and I must feed her by hand.” He shrugged. “No one has told her that I am the king.”

“It sounds like she wouldn’t care.”

He chuckled. “Probably not. After all, that makes her a royal cat.” His humor faded. “As much as I love her kittens, for they carry a piece of her with them, I cannot bear to put her through the pain of having her litters leave her again.

Her unhappiness wounds me.”

He looked at Cleo. “She is just a cat. You are the daughter of my heart. Every day you are gone, I will bleed a little inside. I will think of you often. In time we will need to come to some arrangement with regard to my grandson. But for now you are free to go.”

She hadn’t had a clue where he’d been going with the cat story. Now that he’d given her permission to flee
Bahania
, the band tightening around her chest loosened a little and she was able to draw in air. Time away from
Sadik
would allow her to recover…or at least start the healing process. She had a bad feeling that he was going to be the only man she ever really loved.

But she would deal with that reality another time. For now it was enough that she could retreat and lick her wounds in private.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what I want either, but—”

Hassan held up a hand to silence her. “I’m giving you time, Cleo, not a permanent pardon. You and
Sadik
will have to deal with each other eventually.

But for now a separation may be the best thing. We have a villa in Florida. As we approach the beginning of winter, that will be a safe place for you. I will arrange for a doctor to be on call for you there. The plane will be ready for the journey at three this afternoon. Does that suit you?”

Actually it overwhelmed her. She put the drowsy kitten on the bench, then flung herself at the king. He held his kitten in one arm as he hugged her with the other.

“I am sorry to see you go,” he told her. “You have been a wonderful daughter. I am very proud of you, Cleo. Never forget that. As for
Sadik
, I am sad to say, my son is a camel’s ass.”

Sadik
paused in the act of typing in a transfer order. The cursor blinked at the tail end of a multimillion-dollar entry. His fingers hovered over the keys, but something had distracted him.

He raised his head, wondering if he had heard an unfamiliar sound. No. It wasn’t that. He tried to shake off the feeling of something being wrong and return to his work, but he could not. He finished typing the number, hit Enter, then saved his work and exited the computer program.

After rising, he crossed to the window and stared out. No unexpected storm darkened the horizon, yet he couldn’t shake the feel of tension in the air.

Something was different…and very wrong.

Cleo.

He left immediately for the private wing of the palace, but even before he entered their suite, he knew she was gone. Even so, he crossed the living room and headed for the bedroom. Most of her clothes hung in the closet, but a few casual pieces were gone, as were her cosmetics. He checked the nightstand by the bed and saw that her vitamins were missing, as well.

Cursing under his breath, he hurried toward his father’s office. Was it too late? No, he told himself. Wherever she had gone, he would find her. He had to find her. The pace of his heart picked up the rhythm of the words—he had to find her.

He entered the king’s office without knocking. One of the guards took a step forward, and a secretary rose to his feet, but
Sadik
ignored both of them. He headed directly for the double doors and entered without knocking.

King Hassan sat behind his desk. He didn’t seem surprised to see his son, and waved off both the guard and the secretary before motioning for
Sadik
to take a seat.

Sadik
dismissed the invitation with a shake of his head. He approached the desk and placed both hands on the broad surface.

“You told her she could leave.”

He spoke the statement rather than ask the question. His father met his angry gaze with a steady look.

“Yes, I did.”

Sadik
curled one hand into a fist and pounded it on the desk. “You had no right.

She is my wife.”

Hassan rose and glared. “Her heart is broken. I would not watch her fade away from unhappiness. You did not recognize the treasure you possessed, so now you have lost her.”

No! It could not be so.
Sadik
sucked in a breath, but the act took great effort.

Perhaps because there was suddenly a gaping hole in his chest.

“She was content. She loves me. She told me herself.”

Just three days before. He remembered the moment with perfect clarity. For the first time since he had found out about the baby, he had been sure that Cleo was not going to bolt. In the act of confessing her love, she had freed him to relax. If she loved him, she would stay. They would always be together. Women who loved were happy. It had always been so.

“Apparently loving you is not enough,” Hassan said angrily. “She expected more, as did I.”

Sadik
frowned. “What more would you expect? I have been a faithful and caring husband. She wants for nothing. I attend to her every morning, I have learned all I can about her pregnancy and the upcoming birth.”

His father slowly shook his head. “You have not learned the most important lesson. I thought you would. I knew what you went through after
Kamra’s
death, and I know what you vowed. But you are wrong,
Sadik
. You have always been wrong.

Not loving someone does not keep you safe—it merely keeps you alone.”

He resumed his seat. “I will do nothing to help you. Cleo is leaving. After the birth of my grandson, we will fly to see her and the baby. Only then will we discuss what is to happen.” His father’s gaze narrowed. “My intent is not to keep you from your son. However, Cleo needs time. I forbid you to follow her.”

Sadik
left without responding. His own father had turned against him. And Cleo had run from him. He took a step, then another, only to stop when he felt a sharp, angry pain in his chest. He could not breathe, could not think, he could only endure the hollow emptiness filling him.

The sensation was faintly familiar. He searched his memory and recalled that he had felt it when he had lost
Kamra
. But that pain had been a pinprick compared with the open wound he experienced at the loss of Cleo. It was as if he’d been ripped in two. How could there be a world without her? How could he survive? She was both sunlight and moonlight in his ever-dark sky. She had accused him of only caring about the baby, but she had been wrong. The child was an unexpected gift—she was his everything.

He forced himself to keep walking. Memories flashed through his brain, each more accusing than the last. How he had taken her affection and her love for granted.