The Sultan Demands His Heir Read online

  Something in his expression drove her to take him deeper, increase the pace of her movements. His face grew tauter, twin swathes of colour staining his cheekbones as his breathing turned choppier. ‘Yes,’ he encouraged hoarsely. ‘Take me, habiba, as I have taken you.’

  Esme didn’t need a second bidding. Fingers splaying on either side of his strong neck, she gave in to the siren song whispering through her body.

  It wasn’t long before the crescendo built to insane proportions, and Zaid’s groans were turning guttural. Feeling even bolder than before, she stole another kiss from his sensual lips, then got lost in it when he took over. Connected in every possible way, they tumbled over the edge in unison, devouring each other’s vocal expression of the nirvana they were drowning in.

  They were still connected when his strong arms came around her and he rose from the pool and strode, dripping wet and not caring, back into the tent.

  They were still fully connected when he lowered her onto the bed and then he froze for a split second, his eyes going wide with shock, before he disengaged and flung himself away from her with an ear-bleeding curse.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE DIDN’T NEED a cipher to know something was wrong. Very wrong.

  ‘Z-Zaid?’ Hard on the heels of her earth-shattering climax, her voice was nowhere near steady as she watched him pace from one end of the tent to the other. For a mad instant she was jealous of his ability to do so while unashamedly naked. In contrast, Esme couldn’t pull the sheet—the newly changed sheet, she absently observed—over her body fast enough.

  ‘I cannot believe—’ He stopped, went a little white, then turned his back on her one more time. He completed two more lengths of the room before he stopped at the foot of the bed, out of touching distance. ‘We didn’t use any protection just now...in the pool,’ he stated in a grave voice steeped in dark regret.

  She went cold despite her taking another few moments to fully grasp his meaning. When she did, her stomach hollowed out. Then, forcing herself to think, she blurted, ‘I’m...on the Pill.’

  The immense relief that crossed his face was almost comical. Almost. Because something severed any trace of laughter from her heart before she had time to absorb it.

  And also because a frown was beginning to replace that relief. ‘Why were you on the Pill if you weren’t sexually active?’ he whipped at her.

  ‘Because my doctor recommended it to help regulate my periods,’ she explained.

  He exhaled. Nodded as relief returned, full blown. His fists started to unclench.

  Just as memory began to poke holes in her hasty assurance.

  He started to round the bed towards her. Then he froze again when he saw what must have been near horror on her face.

  ‘But... I...’

  ‘But what, Esmeralda?’ he snapped.

  ‘I ran out last week, when we were in Dishnaja. Nashwa managed to get a prescription filled for me yesterday, but I missed three doses...’ Her voice trailed off as the enormity of the consequences hit her. Had she been standing, she was certain she would have lost the use of her legs. As it was, she felt the blood drain out of her head at the grim look that overcame Zaid’s features.

  ‘Three doses, so three days’ worth?’ he pressed, his face once again rigid with tension.

  She nodded miserably.

  ‘What are the repercussions of missing them?’

  Dread steeped deeper. ‘Anything more than one missed dose and... I have to use extra precautions,’ she whispered raggedly.

  He uttered another curse in his language, then sank heavily on the mattress. Still out of reach. Ominous silence ensued.

  ‘Zaid, I didn’t think...when you summoned me here last night, this...what happened wasn’t what I was expecting.’

  He rubbed a hard hand over his jaw. ‘That is inconsequential in the circumstances. Once is all it takes. And if there is blame to be laid, I’m far more culpable in this than you. It was my responsibility, and while I have no excuse for my carelessness, I will say in my defence that you enchanted me to a degree that I forgot myself.’

  At any other time, his words would have filled her heart with joy. Not now, though. Not when they were delivered in a clipped tone that told her he was berating himself a thousand different ways for the situation they now found themselves in.

  ‘When will you know?’ he asked after another sharp exhalation.

  She made a quick calculation. ‘I’m not expecting my period for another two weeks, but I can take an early pregnancy test in about nine or ten days’ time. Or I can...the morning-after pill is an option if that’s what you want—’

  ‘No! It is not. You will not get rid of my child before we even know there is a possibility of one.’

  A wave of relief hit her at his vehement rejection of the remedy that had disturbed her to even consider, despite reeling at the possibility that she might be pregnant. Last night had been monumental. But it was nothing compared to the realisation that there could be long-lasting consequences to what they’d done.

  ‘Zaid... I don’t know if I can—’

  Strong hands seized her shoulders, cutting her off. But, unlike last time, there was no tenderness in his face, no promise of untold pleasure blazing from his eyes. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t even think of uttering words that would deny my child’s existence.’

  ‘I wasn’t. But I’m not prepared for any of this.’

  Lips she’d kissed barely half an hour ago flattened before he sighed and released her. She sagged back into the bed as he trailed his fingers down her arm to capture her hand. But again there was no hint of warmth, and it felt more like a way of making sure she stayed where she was. In case she what? Bolted? Esme was sure her legs wouldn’t carry her one single step, never mind to anywhere far enough away from this tent to give her some peace of mind.

  ‘We will step back from the edge of any hasty decision. We will get dressed and start the day with something as mundane as breakfast.’

  She contained the urge to break into hysterical laughter. Nothing about the everyday life of Zaid Al-Ameen would ever be considered mundane, even the food he ate. ‘And then what?’

  ‘Then we will consider our options. Ones that don’t include taking drastic measures. Are we agreed?’ The question was filled with purpose.

  And because she needed time too to absorb everything that had happened since she’d followed Fawzi into this tent last night, she answered, ‘Yes, we’re agreed.’

  And just like that the subject was shelved. He let go of her hand and rose from the bed, then left the room without a backward glance.

  When she was sure her legs would keep her upright, Esme stood and dressed in the clothes from the night before, which had been folded and placed on the chair at the bottom of the bed. Then, unsure of whether to leave or wait for Zaid, she dawdled for another half an hour in the bedroom.

  Eventually, it was one of the servants who came in and beckoned her out to where Zaid was already seated on floor cushions spread around the dining area.

  Breakfast was a feast of fruit, nuts, yoghurt, pastries, an assortment of juices, tea and coffee, served in respectful silence by a clutch of servants who bowed and smiled at their noble ruler, and cast keenly speculative glances her way. If the notion lingered for a moment that the women’s interest in her this morning was far greater than it had been yesterday, or the day before, Esme had no room to dwell on it. Not when the subject of a baby...Zaid’s baby...had taken over every corner of her mind.

  She declined all but a piece of tangerine, a slice of toast and a small helping of honeyed yoghurt. Although Zaid’s lips firmed, he didn’t comment, his brow clamped as he remained deep in his own thoughts.

  The moment the meal was cleared away, she stood to retrieve her scarf in anticipation of returning to her own tent. Absently she noted that it too had been moved and neatly folded on a low armoire in the living room. About to pick it up, she froze.

  Zaid might be the Sultan, but his l
ife wasn’t his own. It never would be. It was a life he’d been destined for from the moment of his birth, a life he’d been trained for and embraced even while he’d been exiled.

  Whereas she...

  Esme swallowed. On the wild chance that she’d fallen pregnant, her life, or at least a huge part of it as the mother of the future heir of Ja’ahr, would be lived in this same, exotic fishbowl, no matter where on earth she chose to reside. She would be scrutinised at every turn. And as the daughter of Jeffrey Scott, her past too would become a source of interest.

  Her past would be exposed. Including her role in her father’s life before she’d walked away from him. And what had happened in Vegas. With Bryan.

  Her outstretched hand trembled so badly she clenched it into a fist.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Zaid demanded sharply.

  She jumped and spun around to face him. Intelligent eyes were locked on her, examining her every breath, her every blink. The all-black traditional attire he’d changed into gave him an air of a merciless conqueror, despite the white trim bordering the material. ‘I... I’m afraid shelving this isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Yesterday I was just a social worker, assigned to do a job I know and love. Today I’m...’

  ‘You’re the Sultan’s lover, and the woman who could be carrying the next heir of Ja’ahr,’ he intoned baldly, leaving no room for equivocation.

  The tremble in her hand transmitted to her whole body. For a single moment Esme found herself praying that his seed had not taken root inside her. If for no other reason than because of the shame she would bring on her child, its father, and the people of Ja’ahr should her secret be discovered. She clenched her gut against the guilt and pain that followed on the heels of that thought.

  ‘Esmeralda?’ His autocratic voice brought her mind back into focus.

  She turned and snatched up her scarf. ‘I’m going back to my tent. I expect you have...um...people waiting to meet with you.’

  His frown intensified, but after a moment he nodded. ‘I’ll ensure you’re not disturbed while you rest.’

  Esme had very little doubt she would be doing any resting but, eager to escape his probing scrutiny, she nodded and murmured her thanks.

  She passed Fawzi, who bowed suspiciously deeply the moment he spotted her. Walking through the camp, Esme also began to notice the marked difference in the greetings that came her way. Where they’d been open, carefree before, their greetings were now accompanied by respectful bows and almost deferential smiles.

  They knew she’d spent the night in Zaid’s bed. They probably knew she’d been sexually innocent. And now they were attempting to place her on a pedestal on which she didn’t belong. The guilt congealing inside her had grown into an unbearable stone by the time she stumbled into her tent.

  About to give in to the sobs that bubbled in her throat, she forced them back down when Aisha and Nashwa rushed in after her.

  ‘His Highness says that you are to rest,’ the older woman said. ‘Aisha will make you some jasmine tea to—’

  ‘No tea, thank you, Nashwa,’ she said firmly. ‘I just want to lie down for a bit, if that’s okay.’

  ‘Of course, Madam.’

  She glided past her, heading for the bedroom, while Aisha stepped up and gently tugged the scarf from her hand. Aware that the women wouldn’t rest until they felt they’d been of service, Esme succumbed to being attended to, then sighed in relief the moment they retreated.

  But the relief didn’t last against the thoughts tearing her mind apart. Her secret wasn’t the kind she could keep to herself, but it also wasn’t the kind she would wish for Zaid to be blindsided by. And then there was the inescapable truth that publicly admitting what she knew about her father’s past would hammer another, possibly irredeemable, nail in his coffin.

  She grabbed the nearest pillow and buried her face in it. But as much as her head wanted to wind the clock back to this time yesterday, where the extent of her problems was whether Zaid wanted her or not, her heart wouldn’t allow that wish to remain. Because then she wouldn’t have experienced the most magical hours of her life. And if there was a baby growing inside her... Her breath caught.

  She had a little time before she found out one way or the other. Maybe, Zaid too, with time to think, wouldn’t feel so strongly about claiming a child whose mother was a nobody and whose grandfather was a criminal. For all she knew, he might prefer her and her child to exist far away from his kingdom. Then all she would have to worry about was how to protect her baby from the shaky legacy of her past.

  The effort it took to block out the mocking voice that ridiculed her thinking that Zaid wouldn’t claim her child finally wore her out. She was staring blankly at the wall of the tent when she heard excited voices, followed by the unmistakeable sound of rotors approaching.

  A glance at her phone showed she’d been lying in bed for two hours. Although she wasn’t due to meet with the teachers of the community for another hour, Esme rose, slid off the tunic and went into the bathroom to splash water on her face. She changed into another tunic, this one in a deep blue. She added the accompanying accessories and walked out into the living room, just as Zaid walked in.

  His eyes raked her from head to toe, his face unsmiling. ‘You’re dressed to travel. Very good.’

  ‘Why? Are we going somewhere?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, we’re retuning to the Royal Palace.’

  She frowned. ‘But we still have a day’s work to finish here. I’m meeting the teachers in an hour.’

  ‘The report you drew up yesterday was more than sufficient. Any further assessments can be done by other means.’

  ‘What other means?’

  He gestured impatiently. ‘Phone calls. Video conferences. A dozen other different ways. We’re not a backwater tribe, you know.’

  ‘Of course I know. I wasn’t suggesting that at all.’

  ‘Then let’s go,’ he commanded, holding out his hand in imperious emphasis when she hesitated.

  ‘Why do I feel that there’s more going on here than you’re telling me?’

  A muscle rippled in his jaw. ‘Because there is. I suggested that we take some time to absorb the possibility that you may be carrying my child. I was wrong to do so. If you are truly carrying my child—’

  ‘A fact that is still only a possibility...

  ‘Then we need to put certain arrangements in place,’ he finished as if she hadn’t spoken.

  ‘What kinds of arrangements?’ she demanded.

  ‘The kind that you will be apprised of in due course.’

  ‘So I will be the last one to know?’

  ‘No, you will be one of the first to know when final decisions have been made.’

  She wasn’t going to get any more out of him. She knew it from the way he angled his body determinedly towards the door and expected her to fall in line. She knew it from the way Fawzi guided her towards the helicopter the moment she stepped out while Zaid said his goodbyes to the Tujullah elders. She knew it when he took his seat beside her and immediately activated his satellite phone.

  As they soared into the air and the pilot pointed the aircraft towards the capital, Esme became blindingly aware of one thing. Whether her pregnancy had been confirmed or not didn’t matter to Zaid. While his heir was even a possibility, he was going all out to lay his claim on it.

  * * *

  Zaid observed his small council of advisors as the monthly meeting came to an end. He knew the last un-itemised point of the meeting was about to be brought up because it had been broached, sometimes subtly, sometimes boldly, at each meeting for the last six months.

  This time, though, he wasn’t as disinterested by or dismissive of the subject as he’d been on previous occasions. In fact, there was a hum of anticipation within him that had been present ever since he’d walked into the room.

  It had been ten days since he’d returned to the Royal Palace with Esmeralda. Ten days during which he’d tried to get to grips with the poss
ibility that he might be a father. He hadn’t sought confirmation yet, since his initial research had advised that it might still be too early. But, like he’d told Esmeralda, decisions needed to be made. And the more he’d weighed up all his options, the more he’d realised he had only one. More than that, though, was the realisation he couldn’t keep avoiding the decision he’d been putting off. Whether Esmeralda was pregnant or not, he would have to marry some time in the near future.

  He couldn’t deny that marriage to a woman from an allied kingdom would bring another layer of stability to Ja’ahr. But marriage and the announcement of an heir would be even more welcomed by his people.

  Either way, it was a decision that needed to be addressed. So why not now?

  And why not Esmeralda and the possible child she might be carrying?

  Two birds...one stone...

  He tented his fingers and focused on the oldest member of his group of advisors, an ageing man in his seventies who’d been a good friend and aide to his own father. Zaid trusted him because, aside from the sound counsel he’d given him, Anwar Hanuf was also the man who’d risked his life to save him the night his parents had been assassinated.

  Anwar cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. ‘At the risk of repeating myself for the umpteenth time, I think it’s time you solidified your position as Sultan and married, Zaid.’

  Zaid kept silent, an action that surprised Anwar since this was usually the time Zaid waved him away, stood up and brought the meeting to an abrupt end.

  Anwar, seeing his opportunity, ploughed ahead. ‘Our neighbouring states are dying to form firmer alliances through commerce, but one or two are also hoping for a much stronger alliance through marriage.’ He stopped, and eyed Zaid. When Zaid nodded for him to continue, he hastily opened a dossier and reeled off a list of possible candidates.

  Zaid shook his head after the fourth one. ‘No. As much as I accept that arranged marriages forged in the name of stronger alliances have a good success rate among our people, that isn’t going to work for me. I won’t marry a woman I don’t know, neither do I have the time to date and get to know one well enough to propose. But I do accept your argument that marriage will help stabilise our country.’