9. Chapter 9 She’s All In
GAbrIEL
The need to call Juliana and check in with her grows over the long hours of my flight. I left her apartment a mere eight hours ago. I have been in the air for seven of them and won't arrive in Zahriya for another nine.
Hours I need to spend working.
I should wait to call her until later, just before she goes to bed. But the itch to reach out has me typing out a text on the app on my laptop.
My Sheikh: How are you feeling?
Before she woke this morning, I changed my name from Gabriel to My Sheikh on the encrypted texting app my security installed on her phone. It is the same app I use for the rest of my family.
She does not respond immediately, of course. She is working and the lag between sending and delivery is longer because I'm using the Wi-Fi on the royal jet.
Still, I find myself typing another message after a minute.
My Sheikh: Did you take the morning after pill?
Fifteen minutes later, my computer chimes with an incoming message.
Juwayhira: Happy and no. ::blushing smiley face emoji::
Her response makes my heart rate accelerate. Happy? She is happy. This is good. Even better, she did not take the birth control.
My Sheikh: I am glad.
On both counts. But the idea that she could be pregnant with my child has my cock stirring uncomfortably in my slacks.
Juwayhira: Are you texting me from the plane, or are you refueling?
My Sheikh: There is no need to refuel.
The GS800 can make the journey easily if we can take off with a full fuel tank, which is possible because we fly out of Albuquerque, which has much longer runways than the Santa Fe regional airport.
The hour drive to reach Albuquerque is more than worth having to reroute to add fuel in Ireland en route to my island country in the Indian Ocean in the same longitude as the Arabian peninsula.
Juwayhira: How long is the flight?
My Sheikh: 16 hrs.
I answer two emails while waiting for another text from Juliana. As soon as the computer chimes the alert, I click into the messaging app.
Juwayhira: Really?!! A commercial flight takes 25 hours and two connections.
I stare at her text for several seconds as my brain runs scenarios for why she would have that knowledge.
My Sheikh: Are you thinking about coming to visit me?
It would be a very un-Juliana like thing to do. So, I am flummoxed when she replies in the affirmative.
Juwayhira: Yes. Is the invitation still open?
My Sheikh: Yes, of course. When are you planning to come?
I don't even try to work while I wait for her reply.
Juwayhira: In a week. My temporary replacements are going to be in place in five days, but I couldn't get a ticket until two days later.
She has already arranged for her positions to be covered at the ranch? I left her a matter of hours ago.
My Sheikh: There is no need for a ticket. I will send the royal jet for you in five days.
I send instructions for her travel arrangements while I wait for her next message.
Juwayhira: Really? That would be amazing! Thank you. ::smiley face with hearts emoji::
Juwayhira: Tessa thinks I need to see if I fit into your world as well as you fit into mine. I guess traveling that way is part of it. ::thinking emoji::
My Sheikh: You told your sister about us?
Her reply takes longer than the ones before it.
Juwayhira: Yes. She wants me to take the Plan B so even if this thing between us is real, we have a chance to settle into it before I get pregnant.
Mine is swift.
My Sheikh: It is very real. Having a child together will only cement that reality.
Again there's a more significant time elapse.
Juwayhira: But that's not how it's supposed to work, is it? Babies put stress on a new relationship.
My Sheikh: Are those your words, or your sisters?
Her answer comes more quickly this time.
Juwayhira: Neither. It's what all the relationship experts say. I looked it up. And I still didn't take the birth control.
I can hear embarrassment in her words, maybe even shame. Damn it. Why did I leave New Mexico so soon after we made love? I need to be there with her.
My Sheikh: And I still don't want you to.
My mother gave birth to my brother ten months after she wed my father.
Their marriage was arranged and they were virtual strangers.
She has said that sharing parenthood so quickly brought about a reliance on one another and a deep level of trust that would have taken much more time to build otherwise. They are very happy together.
Am I trying to sell Juliana on the idea of marriage already? Yes. I was going to wait to bring it up as a serious proposition until after I returned to New Mexico, but I am a good negotiator. I know when to change tactics.
Juliana needs reassurance and I will give it to her.
Juwayhira: That's the second time you've mentioned marriage.
My Sheikh: I have made it clear from the beginning, I see a future for us. For a man in my position, that means marriage.
Particularly when that marriage is my duty on behalf of my house, but that is not something she needs to know.
Juwayhira: Okay. So, I guess we spend two weeks in Zahriya seeing how well I fit into your world.
My Sheikh: You will be welcome.
But it is a good thing, I think, that my mother and father will be in Monaco the first week of her visit.
They would insist on me bringing Juliana to the capital instead of my home at the oasis on the other side of the mountains.
However, that is my world and the one in which she will spend most of her time as my wife.
Therefore, it is the part of my life she should become acquainted with first.
Now that is settled, I should be able to work. But my mind insists on replaying the night before. Her sweet passion. Her beautiful body.
The look in her eyes when she entered the room, barefoot, her hair down and wearing that pink dress.
My Sheikh: Do not wear the pink dress when I am not there to appreciate it.
The thought of her wearing it on another date with another man, like Lonny, fills me with inexplicable fury. She's not going on another date with another man. Juliana knows she belongs to me as I belong to her. But has she worn it before?
Juwayhira: Yeah. That's not going to happen. It has been sitting in the back of my closet for nine months since I bought it.
My Sheikh: Why?
Did she buy it to wear on a date with Lonny and then break up with him before she could?
Juwayhira: I love the way that dress makes me feel. Flirty, feminine and confident.
Which is not an answer to why she wore it for me. Another text comes through before I can reply.
Juwayhira: It shows the me that I am on the inside. A woman who loves her own body and doesn't feel the need to hide it so she won't be criticized.
My Sheikh: You wore it for me.
Because she trusted me.
Juwayhira: If I was ever going to wear it, it was going to be with you. ::blushing face emoji:: ::heart emoji::
My Sheikh: I am glad. I would have to gouge out the eyes of another man who saw you in that dress with your glorious hair unbound and your innocent eyes filled with sensual curiosity.
It is not a sentiment an urbane prince should admit to, but my little jewel brings out a heretofore unknown primitive side to my nature.
Juwayhira: Does the mean you don't want me to wear it again on date with you? ::sad face emoji::
We are well beyond dating, but I answer the real question she is asking.
My Sheikh: It would be a cause for great disappointment if you did not. When I am with you, your eyes are no longer filled with sensual curiosity, but the knowledge you belong to me as I belong to you.
My Sheikh: And when you wear it, I will be reminded that you trust me as you have trusted no other.
Her reply takes longer than the others have done. When it comes, it is short, but very satisfying.
Juwayhira: I do trust you.
Enough to forego the morning after pill because she does not fear aligning her life with mine in the most permanent way possible. Through a child. I wonder if she realizes that yet.
She arrives at four a.m. as I planned, and I am waiting with my Royal Protection Unit to welcome my bride-to-be from the plane.
In future, there will be times we are met with a full complement of ministers and lookers on when we return home from travel abroad, but I see no reason to spook my shy little jewel with such a welcome today.
Nor do we need the press taking pictures of her before my mother has had a chance to update Juliana's wardrobe and styling. I have apprised her of the issue already, letting maman know that my soon to be wife dresses like a frump.
But the woman revealed when the airstairs are lowered cannot be described as frumpy by any stretch of the imagination.
Despite sixteen hours of travel and her very early arrival, she looks as put together as any woman in my mother's royal entourage.
Juliana is wearing light makeup, what my sister calls the natural look, and though her hair is in its customary braid, it falls smoothly over her left shoulder with tendrils of hair strategically framing her face.
Her cream-colored jump suit has wide, flowy legs but clings to her breasts and hips.
However, the sheer abaya with a pink and cream pattern she wears over it adds a level of modest elegance entirely fitting for the setting.
When she starts down the steps, I see that her shoes even have a small heel.
I have never seen her in anything but tennis shoes or hiking boots. Even when she was wearing one of her godawful dresses cut to fit like an oversized sack.
Until that last night, when she'd put on the pink dress.
For me.
This also, is for me.
Right hand outstretched toward her, I stride quickly forward.
She takes it as soon as she's low enough on the stairs to do so and it takes all my formidable self-restraint not to pull her into my arms and kiss her until her lips are swollen and her hair is falling out of its braid.
I do nothing to hide my desire to do so from my expression though as I say, "Welcome to Zahriya, juwayhira."