Sheikh's Pregnant Lover (7 page)

“Yes,” Zayid muttered, “but I’ve never really had it happen to me before. It’s quite disconcerting.”

“Aha!” Vanessa laughed. “So that’s the problem. You don’t like having the tables turned on you, do you?” Her blue eyes sparkled with glee.

Zayid shook his head. He really didn’t. More than once he’d had to deal with a clingy woman after ending a fling—he was handsome and wealthy and many of them thought they could keep him. And even the ones who knew that he didn’t want more had never sprung out of bed as soon as he’d come. Madeline was the first one to do so, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Whether it was because he was truly infatuated with her or because his male pride was stung, he didn’t know. But he was going to find out.

“Well, I’m not really sure what you want at this point,” Vanessa said. “If you aren’t ready to give up pursuing her, you should give her a call and set up a second date.”

Zayid rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t thought of that! “I did more than that. I dropped by her workplace today and offered to take her out to dinner.”

“You did what?” Vanessa’s eyes went wide. “Ohh, I’m not sure how Maddy would have felt about you dropping by unannounced. You probably would have been better off with a text.”

“The outcome may have been the same either way.” Zayid pressed his lips together. “Her reaction to me was more than annoyance at being interrupted. I could feel it. She wasn’t interested in seeing me again. And I can’t figure out why. I’m trying to figure out if it was something I did last night. I’d thought we had a great time together.”

“Well, to be fair, I don’t really think it was your fault.” Vanessa sighed, giving him a sympathetic look. “Part of the reason Maddy came out here to take this job was to get away for a little while. She just found out that her fiancé, who she’s been with for three years, was cheating on her, and she’s still dealing with the aftermath of the breakup. She might have been willing to sleep with you, Zayid, but I don’t know that she’s ready to open up her heart.”

“But I’m not asking for her heart.” Zayid frowned. “Just her company.”

“For many women, we can’t offer one without risking the other.” Vanessa pursed her lips. “Maybe you need to just ease off a little bit regarding your approach. Make it clear that you’re not looking for any kind of commitment, but that you enjoy spending time with her and would like to do so more often.”

“I guess I could try that,” Zayid said dubiously. “It sounds a lot like putting myself in the…how do you Americans call it…the Friend Pen?”

Vanessa laughed. “The Friend Zone. And yes, that’s always a risk when you’re trying to achieve more than just a one-night stand. But trust me when I say that Maddy’s worth it. She’s got a big heart and is very passionate about the things she cares about. You just have to make sure that you really care about her, too, and that you’re not just doing this for the challenge.”

“Thank you.” Zayid inclined his head, and then rose. “I suppose I should get ready for dinner, as well.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Vanessa rose to her feet, then padded silently across the room to open the door. “Oh, and Zayid?” she asked, turning toward him.

“Yes?” He paused to look at her.

“If I find out that you’re just doing this for the thrill and you break her heart, I will find a way to break you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget it.”

“Don’t worry.” Zayid smiled at her tenacity. “I won’t.”

Chapter Seven

Footsteps echoing down the hall had Madeline lifting her head for the tenth time that morning. Her mind was humming with alertness, just waiting for Zayid to walk back in here, but as she turned her head toward the doorway she saw it was just a security guard doing his rounds through the hall. An exasperated sigh slipped from her lips, and she returned her attention to her microscope to study the sample in front of her.

“Are you alright?” Kirin, one of her fellow coworkers, asked. She lifted her head from the laptop screen she was studying, her dark curtain of hair falling away from her oval face as she glanced over at Madeline with concern. “You seemed stressed yesterday, and you seem stressed today, too.”

Madeline smiled, trying her best to shrug it off. “I just slept badly, that’s all. No need to worry.”

“Oh well I guess that’s not surprising with the jet lag and all.” Kirin’s expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sure you’ll adjust in the next couple of days.”

“I sure hope so.” Madeline smiled again, then ducked her head back down toward her microscope to end the conversation. Jet lag had absolutely nothing to do with her lack of sleep last night, or the night before. She’d been tossing and turning, thinking about Zayid and his visit to the lab the day before yesterday, and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do about it. How was she supposed to concentrate on her work when she had to worry about keeping him at arm’s length while simultaneously not offending him so that he would donate money to the project? Dammit, she should have never slept with him.

If she were honest with herself, part of the reason she was so on edge was because she’d expected Zayid to pop in yesterday, but he hadn’t. She hadn’t heard a single peep from him, not even a phone call or text message. And it was already midafternoon today and he hadn’t made an appearance. Had he changed his mind about trying to pursue her? Maybe she’d been more effective with her attempts to spurn him than she’d realized. He’d seemed so confident and cocky when he’d strolled out of the lab with his promise to come back that it hadn’t occurred to her that he would change his mind. And it made her worry, because she knew that if he didn’t come back soon her boss would wonder why, and she might blame Madeline if they lost the potential funding Aisha was hoping to secure from him.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’re going to get fired if you lose Zayid’s support. They
need
you, which is why they hired you, and the project is short term, anyway, since it’s almost wrapped up.

Still, she’d seen how excited Aisha was at the prospect of gaining funds from a member of the royal family, and she didn’t want to disappoint her. Madeline had only been here a couple of days, but she already really liked her boss and coworkers. She didn’t want to let them down.

Please, please call me, Zayid.

Another hour rolled by, and then two, and finally Madeline decided to stop holding her breath. It was nearly time for her to clean up the lab, log her daily report, and lock up. Zayid wasn’t coming. She’d driven him away, and she was going to have to deal with the consequences of that.

Just as she was drying a pair of beakers, her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her lab coat. Hurriedly, she yanked it out of her pocket. Her heart leapt in her throat at the sight of the unfamiliar Dubai number scrolling across her screen.

“Hello?” she answered, setting a beaker down.

“Hello, Madeline.” Zayid’s smooth, exotic accent sent a ripple through her. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Why the phone call?” Madeline tried to sound suspicious instead of relieved. She didn’t want Zayid to think she’d been hoping for his phone call. “I figured you’d just come by the lab again if you wanted something.”

“Yes, well, about that. I called because I wanted to apologize.”

Madeline’s mouth popped open. “Huh?”

“If you’re not busy working at the lab, I’d like to take you out to dinner to apologize and explain my motives a little more clearly. I hope you’ll accept.”

Madeline frowned. Explain his motives? She’d thought they’d been pretty clear, but maybe there’d been something she was missing. “I suppose so. Where did you plan on meeting?”

“There is an Italian place a few blocks away from where you work. They make excellent ziti. Does that work for you? In thirty minutes?”

Madeline’s lips twitched at the idea of eating baked ziti with an Arab royal in Dubai. “It does.”

***

Madeline couldn’t remember the last time she’d cleaned up the lab so fast. She flew through her end-of-the-day rituals, tapping out her report at the speed of light, wiping down counters and putting specimens and solutions away. Kirin had overheard she was meeting someone for dinner, and she subjected Madeline to some friendly teasing but helped her get everything done.

“Good luck with your date!” she called as Madeline walked out the door.

“Thanks!” Madeline decided not to mention that it wasn’t a date—that would only raise more questions. Sighing, she looked down at her clothing and smoothed some wrinkles from her blouse. She’d chosen a sapphire-blue top with short sleeves, black slacks, and low heels, looking far more like she were ready to go out to a business meeting. Which suited her just fine, because in essence that’s what this was—a business meeting.

Madeline said
good evening
to the night guard as she left the building, then pulled out her phone to look up the address that Zayid had texted her. It was only a five-minute walk, so she chose to skip taking a cab and hoofed it instead. As she walked up the street, the scents of exotic spices wafted through the air, coming from local ethnic restaurants, and people of all ethnicities traveled up and down the sidewalks. The bicycle lanes were well used, and there was plenty of vehicle traffic toward the end of the day, though nothing like rush hour in Manhattan. People smiled and nodded as they passed, and as she returned the gestures, a pleasant warmth spread through her. The people here were quite friendly. It didn’t seem to matter to any of them that she had light skin or didn’t wear a hijab; they treated her just like a normal human being.

The Italian place was a cozy but tastefully designed red brick building located at the next street corner. The picture windows allowed her to see the square tables inside, with their checkered cloths and the candles that sat atop them. As she walked in, her eyes roamed over the dark wood paneling and the colorful red carpet that cushioned her footfalls, eventually coming to rest on the host, a balding man with a mustache dressed in a suit and bow tie who stood behind a type of podium.

“Good evening!” he cried in true Italian fashion, though his dark skin and Arabian accent marked him as anything but. “Welcome to Ameci’s. Table for two?”

“Actually I’m meeting someone.” She hesitated for a moment, wondering if Zayid was here yet. “Zayid Tuma.”

“Oh!” The host stood up a little straighter as his eyes widened. “Yes, Miss Anthony. He told me to be on the lookout for you. Please, come right this way.”

The host turned smartly on his heel, and Madeline followed after him, feeling a little nervous for some reason. She wasn’t really sure
why
. After all, Zayid had asked her to meet because
he
wanted to apologize to
her
, not the other way around. But still, she couldn’t help the anxiety jumping in her veins.

As she caught sight of Zayid, sitting at a table by one of the windows, the anxiety turned into something more, and she thought she realized why she was so jumpy. It was the idea of being alone with him again. True, they were in a public place, and this meeting was supposed to be platonic. But he gave off a kind of energy that she couldn’t quite explain—it drew her to him, and she knew that without Adir and Vanessa here it was going to be difficult to ignore it.

“Madeline.” Zayid’s full lips stretched into a broad smile that made her stomach flip-flop. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He stood to greet her.

“Yeah, well, I always was a sucker for lasagna,” Madeline joked, trying to alleviate some of the tension within her. Zayid didn’t look even remotely stressed as he approached her. His broad shoulders were relaxed, and his silver eyes sparkled as he took her in.

“You look very nice,” he told her as he pulled out her chair for her to sit.

“Thank you, but I’m just dressed for work.” He leaned forward a little to push her chair in, and Madeline caught a whiff of his spicy-sweet aftershave. It sent tingles through her, and she curled her fists in her lap beneath the table to keep herself from leaning back to get a deeper sniff. She’d had her fill of him already, and she wasn’t planning on taking anymore, not if she knew what was good for her.

“Perhaps, but you have great fashion sense nevertheless,” Zayid said simply as he returned to his seat.

Madeline felt warmth spread across her cheeks, and she glanced away, hoping Zayid wouldn’t notice. What the hell was wrong with her? Zayid was hot, but he was a playboy, and she wasn’t about to get involved with someone like him.

“Would you like anything to drink, miss?” a waiter appeared at the table, a young blond with dark eyes and a British accent. “Some water perhaps, or tea? Or are you ready to order?”

“I think she’d like a few minutes since she just got here,” Zayid said. “But probably you would like something to drink, no?” he asked Madeline.

“Actually, I’m fine with ordering now,” Madeline said. She wanted to get this dinner over with as quickly as possible. “Can I get an order of lasagna and some iced tea?”

“Of course.” The waiter’s eyebrows winged up, but he didn’t say anything about Madeline contradicting Zayid, a royal. “And for you, Your Highness?”

“I’ll take the tortellini.”

They handed the menus back to the waiter, forcing Madeline to tuck her hands into her lap once more so that Zayid wouldn’t see her fidgeting. “So, what is it that you wanted to say to me?”

Zayid’s lips quirked up. “Right down to business, eh?”

Madeline gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m curious,” she deflected.

“Very well.” Zayid sighed. “I wanted to apologize for encroaching on your work area and making you feel uncomfortable yesterday. I realize that I don’t know much about you despite our…closeness the other day, and it was wrong of me to assume that you would receive me well.”

“Well, thank you.” Madeline was a little surprised at the sincerity in Zayid’s voice. Despite his roguish charm, he was very well mannered and certainly not like any player she’d ever met before. “I’ll admit I might’ve been ruder than warranted. Especially considering your status.”

Zayid frowned. “I don’t want my status to be a factor between us, Madeline.” He began to reach across the table, as if he wanted to grab her hand, but he pulled back. Madeline wasn’t sure if that was because he’d changed his mind, or because her hands weren’t in view. “When I make friends with someone I want them to appreciate me for my merits, not my title.”