Chapter 45
Loire Valley – France
Twenty Days Later
“A real castle? I can’t believe it!” She smiles for the first time in days.
Something’s going on, but I have no idea what it is.
Adeela had been opening up little by little, no longer so shy, and suddenly she’s withdrawn again. I’ve asked if something’s wrong, but she keeps giving evasive answers. If she thinks I’ll give up, she doesn’t know me.
I’m determined to enjoy every second of these ten honeymoon days. Before we go home, I’ll find out what’s been bothering her.
I don’t think it’s anything between us, because she still responds to me passionately during sex, hotter every time, demanding and surrendering in equal measure.
I force myself to focus on something else. As tempting as it is to spend all our time tangled in each other, it’s time to get to know her beyond the bed. It will be the first time we’re completely alone since Paris.
Nights in our bedroom don’t count. We may talk about important matters, like the structural changes in our country, the women’s council, or the universities being built, but most of the time, we end up in each other’s arms.
And while I can confidently say I know her body better than my own, the same can’t be said for her mind and dreams.
It’s strange, this need to be alone with her. When I was single, I was always surrounded by people, most of whom meant nothing to me.
Now, all I want is the experience of just the two of us together all day. Well, as much as possible, since this castle has at least a dozen staff members.
“This place is . . .”
“Too much?” I ask.
“No. I mean, yes, it’s huge, but I can’t deny how enchanted I am by the idea of spending our honeymoon here.”
She spins around at the foot of the wide staircase that leads to the grand hall, and damn, it feels good to see her happy.
I’d wracked my brain trying to imagine what her dream honeymoon would be like. Unlike the women I used to be with, Adeela’s tastes are simple. She loves music, books, and horseback rides.
She enjoys jewelry and luxury, but not more than a bouquet of flowers. She can savor a gourmet meal or a pita[42] and jibneh[43] sandwich with equal delight.
Then I read an article where women said every one of them had dreamed of being a princess for a day, and even though my wife lives in a palace and is, in fact, a queen, I understood the message.
A fairytale.
Romance.
Indulgence.
Everything I haven’t given her until now.
I’ve been working nonstop since taking the throne. It’s past time I enjoyed my marriage.
“I’m going to take so many pictures! I can already hear Jazmina screaming when she sees them.”
I shake my head, laughing. Yes, my crazy sister will lose her mind when she finds out. I didn’t tell her on purpose. I knew she’d never be able to keep the secret from her best friend. “We’ll spend the last two days in Paris.”
“Really? Do you have a meeting there?”
“No, just something you once told me you’d love to do and I plan to make it happen.”
“I’m curious.”
“I know, but this time, you’ll have to wait, my wife.”
She comes willingly into my arms, and I hold her tight, wondering how I could, in so little time, already see her as an essential part of my world.
Or my entire world, a voice whispers inside me.
I clear my throat to disguise the thought. Softer feelings aren’t my strong suit. Certain emotions are easier to handle: desire, anger, joy. I can work with those. Love requires a deeper surrender.
“What do you want to do first?”
I check my watch to see if there’s still time for a ride before lunch. “There’s a stable. Want to see it?”
“Why do you look nervous?”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Maybe we haven’t lived together for long, but in these months of marriage, I’ve become an expert on my sheikh.” She smiles.
“You’ve been different lately. Like you’re slipping through my fingers.”
“Slipping away? No. I don’t want to be anywhere far from you.” She rises on her toes to kiss me.
“Then tell me what’s wrong.”
“Can we go to the kitchen first? I’m starving.”
“You are? You didn’t eat a thing on the flight.”
“Yes, but now I’m starving.”
I lace our fingers and ask the butler where we can eat. The man looks ready to faint when Adeela dismisses him—and the rest of the staff—saying she’ll make our snack herself.
“Everything okay?” I ask minutes later, watching her eat a sandwich stuffed with a bizarre mix of scrambled eggs and strawberry jam.
“Yes. Are you sure you don’t want one?” she asks, licking her fingers, clearly delighted.
“Absolutely,” I reply, trying not to grimace. “I’m just glad you’re eating.”
“It’s been like this in the mornings lately.”
“No appetite?”
“No, nausea. I can only eat around noon.”
Then, out of nowhere, she sets the sandwich down and starts crying.
“Adeela, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“We broke our agreement!”
My body turns to ice.
She cheated on me?
“How?”
“You’re angry.”
I can’t deny it. “Answer me.”
She wipes her tears, but they fall again immediately. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“And that’s . . . bad?” I ask, surprised by how calm I sound.
“Isn’t it?”
A storm of thoughts rushes through my mind as I try to find the right words. It doesn’t take long for me to realize I want this. Deeply. I want a child with her.
But I have to tread carefully. I need to make her stop crying without sounding like a selfish bastard. She was clear about not wanting kids.
“A new life is always a blessing,” I begin gently, reaching out to pull her into my arms.
She stands, crying less now. “I know. I’m not rejecting my baby.”
“Our baby.”
“Yes, our baby. But now we’ll be connected forever.”
We already were, I think, but keep it to myself. “If you want this too, what’s wrong?”
“Promise me something: you’ll never take our child away from me.”
So that’s why she didn’t want to get pregnant? She thought I’d do what her father did?
It makes me sick to even imagine that she could believe I’d act like that bastard Arif. But I force myself to remember she’s speaking from her own trauma.
“You have my word,” I say softly, “our child will grow up by your side.”
Because I’ll never let either of you go, I add in silence.
Three days later
The same day we arrived, I personally went to a pharmacy in the village. I didn’t want the guards to know about the possibility of a baby on the way. They’re loyal, but you can never be too careful. I don’t want the news spreading to the world before our families hear it.
I bought half a dozen pregnancy tests, and my good girl took them all—laughing at me each time the result appeared.
Yes, I might have overdone it, but Adeela refused to see a doctor during our honeymoon, so I needed my reassurance.
Positive. Every single one.
And me, the man who thought he didn’t want to be a father, can’t stop thinking that in a few months, we’ll have a child. A piece of her and me, blessing our union.
We’ve just come back from a picnic. Hours of pure peace, good food, and lying together under a tree.
There must be a biological explanation for the joy I feel watching her eat, knowing she’s nourishing our baby too.
We’ve been talking a lot, but also having wild, sweaty sex. She’s bolder every time, driving me insane with her teasing. Greedy, shameless, waking me in the middle of the night with her warm mouth around me.
No matter how many times I have her, I always want more. My hunger for her body has no end, but my need for her soul tells me she’s my forever.
I smile when I think about how our marriage couldn’t be further from a marriage of convenience, the way the magazines framed it back when we got engaged—which, by the way, had been my initial intention.
But what’s convenient about having my wife occupying every second of my thoughts? About the memory of her taste and her screams when she comes giving me a hard-on in the middle of my workday?
That reminds me that we haven’t “christened” every room yet. So far, we’ve only used the suite, dining room, and kitchen table.
I lift her in my arms and start climbing the stairs, a plan already forming in my mind.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you on a tour of the castle.”
“I can walk,” she says, but she wraps her arms around my neck anyway. “Besides, aren’t you a few days late?”
“I know you can walk, but I like carrying you, ayuni. And I’m late because of our insatiable desire. I can’t keep my hands off you, and finding out you’re carrying our child only made me want you even more.”
“We’ll see if you say that in three months, when I’m huge and can’t even see my feet.”
I kiss her mouth to silence her doubts. “Thinking of you with fuller breasts and your belly round with my baby makes me crazy.”
“Are you serious?”
I stop and shift her so she’s straddling me. I grind her against my hard length, and she moans. “Does that answer your question?”
“Ohhh . . .”
“Don’t tease me, naughty girl. We’ve still got two-thirds of this castle left to explore.”
She strokes the back of my neck as I start walking again. “I never thought it would be like this,” she says.
“The trip?”
“No. Us. I never imagined our marriage could feel this way.” She cups my face, meeting my gaze. “Ana uhibbuka. I love you, Kaled.”
I freeze. I wasn’t expecting that.
And despite what I said about the castle tour, I head straight to our suite.
Inside, I set her gently on the bed and step back. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears.
“Don’t be scared,” she says softly. “I know we never planned any of this, but I can’t hide what I feel anymore.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then what?”
“Surprised?” I offer and immediately feel like an idiot.
“I’m not expecting you to say it back, so don’t ruin it by overthinking how to react. Come here. I want you inside me, love.”
And I obey, because it’s easier to give her my body than to admit out loud what’s already consuming my heart.
On the eve of the return to Rheadur
“You didn’t.”
“What?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“You’re not fooling me, my sheikh. Tell me it’s true. Are we flying over Paris?”
“Maybe . . .” I say, hiding a smile. “Or maybe we’re doing something a little more than that.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s just say I might have gotten special clearance for my helicopter to fly close to the Eiffel Tower.”
She throws herself into my arms and kisses me, not caring about the pilot or the guards waiting behind us on the runway. “It’s the most incredible gift you could have given me.”
“More than jewelry?”
“Jewelry is just things. This,” she says, pointing toward the sky, “this is about dreams.”