Sheikh's Pregnant Lover (8 page)

Madeline’s eyebrows drew up. “Friends?”

Zayid shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not attracted to you, Madeline, but if you aren’t ready for more than that I don’t see any reason why we have to avoid each other. We’re practically family as it is, and I really am interested in your work.”

“Why?” Madeline wanted to know. “Not about the family part, I get that, but why are you so interested in the IVF project I’m working on?”

Zayid’s expression turned serious as he reached into the inside jacket pocket of his suit—navy blue today—and pulled out his wallet. From within it, he withdrew a small photograph. “This is my sister, Azura.”

Madeline took the photograph and drew in a breath as she stared down at a stunning, dark-haired woman with large eyes and a demure smile. She was dressed in an abaya, and wearing very tasteful makeup that highlighted her gorgeous cheekbones, long eyelashes, and full lips that were very similar to Zayid’s.

“She’s beautiful,” she said, handing back the photograph.

“Thank you.” Zayid’s smile lit his eyes for a moment, but the glow faded again. “She’s married to the sheikh of Qatar, and has been for over two years now. But they are childless.”

“Oh.” Madeline’s heart sank at the news. “That must be difficult, especially if she’s expected to produce heirs.”

“Extremely so.” Zayid tucked the photo away. “Kadar, her husband, is a good man, but her inability to produce children has strained their marriage, and not without reason. He needs a wife to produce children for him, and my sister’s inability to conceive has been destroying her confidence. She’s tried IVF twice now with no success, neither of the embryos taking, and the injections were very difficult for her to bear. The last one ended in a miscarriage, and the heartache was so great that she begged Kadar for a reprieve, which he granted.”

“But that won’t last forever,” Madeline murmured when Zayid paused.

“No, it won’t. She’ll have to start trying again soon. In our culture, it is not necessarily the end of the world if she doesn’t conceive, because Kadar will just take another wife, one who is more fertile. But Azura will be devastated if that happens, because she will constantly be forced to live in the shadow of another woman’s success, one that will remind her of her failure. I don’t want that kind of future for her, and the procedure you are working on looks like it could provide an answer for her. So I’d like to support it however possible.”

Madeline was floored. “I had no idea you had such a personal interest,” she said, lifting her hands from beneath the tablecloth to reach for Zayid’s own. She couldn’t help but give him a sympathetic squeeze, and when he squeezed her hand back her stomach fluttered. “If I had known I would have been a lot more understanding about your visit to the laboratory.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know, and when I’d come I wasn’t really thinking about the importance of your work so much as my desire to see you again.” Zayid withdrew his hand, but he kept his gaze on her. “When I realized the importance of your project, I also realized that it could be the answer to my sister’s prayers. Perhaps you were sent to me by Allah, and His will is for me to watch over you and assist you in any way I can.”

Madeline laughed. “Perhaps,” she said, a little uncomfortable with the idea—she wasn’t very religious. But she wasn’t about to invalidate Zayid for his beliefs, nor for the hope she’d sprung in him that she would be able to help his sister. “Well I will make sure to work even more diligently then, Zayid. I would absolutely like to help your sister, as well as all the other women out there who are struggling with conception. And if you want to help as well, I definitely don’t see any reason to stop you.”

“Excellent.” He beamed at her, and it was like the clouds had parted from above and a shaft of sunlight had spilled onto her face, warming her from the inside out. Her heart beat a little faster, and her lips parted as she was suddenly swept up in the moment. She didn’t know what was happening, and it made her a little afraid. Why did he have this effect on her?

“Lasagna for the lady, and tortellini for His Highness,” the waiter announced, appearing at their table and blessedly breaking up the moment. Madeline’s stomach growled as the waiter set the plate of steaming lasagna in front of her. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the food was right in front of her.

Looking up, she saw Zayid grinning at her, and a blush bloomed across her cheeks as she realized he’d heard her stomach growl. The urge to stick her tongue out at him rose inside her, but she waited until the waiter left until she did so.

“Don’t think that men are the only ones allowed to make funny noises.” Madeline wagged her finger at him as she scooped up her lasagna with a fork. “Women have bodies too, you know.”

“Oh I’m well aware of the fact that women have bodies,” Zayid said, and the wicked gleam in his eyes caused warmth to spread low in Madeline’s stomach. Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to her food, hoping that their conversation wouldn’t get any more suggestive.

Thankfully the rest of dinner proceeded smoothly enough. Zayid made casual conversation with her, telling her a little about his siblings and family, and she told him about her parents and life growing up with Vanessa. They laughed over a few shared anecdotes, and by the time their plates were cleared she was feeling relaxed and very full.

“Well thank you for dinner,” Madeline said as they prepared to leave. She’d thought about asking him to split the check with her, but she had a feeling that would turn into an argument, and besides, this
was
supposed to be a kind of apology gift. “I enjoyed myself.”

“As did I.” Zayid opened the front door so that she could walk out into the cool night air first. Since Dubai was in the desert, the nights cooled off rapidly, and Madeline shivered a little, thankful that this time she’d brought a jacket. “Do you need a ride back to your apartment? I know it’s a little far from here, and it’s dark now.”

Madeline hesitated for just a moment, but realized there was no harm. He’d agreed to be respectful, hadn’t he? “Sure, I’d love a ride.”

His Porsche was parked around the block, and she ran an admiring hand down the side as she walked over to the passenger’s door. Zayid’s lips quirked into a smile as he opened the door for her, but she didn’t care. There was no harm in appreciating a luxury vehicle, and his Porsche was pretty damned sexy.

“You know, if you want to drive all you have to do is ask,” he said, the amusement clear in his tone as he settled himself into the driver’s seat.

Madeline grinned a little. “Well if I’d known that, I would have already taken you up on the offer. Maybe next time then.”

Zayid’s grin broadened. “Next time?”

“Well you
did
mention that we’re practically family,” Madeline pointed out as he started up the engine. “And we’re apparently working together on this IVF project of mine. I figure that means we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

“Indeed.”

Zayid’s driving was much less reckless this time around, to Madeline’s relief. Part of her imagined that if she were a regular driver and had a luxury sports car, she would rocket it around town like Zayid—she wasn’t above that kind of behavior. But she was so used to not driving in the city that she didn’t feel totally comfortable. Maybe she really would take Zayid up on that offer to drive and she could learn some moves. She grinned at the thought.

Zayid pulled up to a stop in front of her apartment, then turned to look at her. “What are you grinning about?”

Madeline’s grin widened. “I was just thinking about what it would be like if you taught me some race-car moves. Probably a disaster.”

Zayid laughed. “I’d make sure we went to a deserted area first. No sense in wrecking my car.” He patted the steering wheel lovingly.

“Yeah, that would be a shame.”

Zayid’s eyes softened then. “It would be more of a shame if you were hurt than anything else,” he said, gently cupping her chin. “A car can always be replaced, but not a life.”

Madeline’s breath caught as she stared into Zayid’s eyes, frozen in the intimate moment. Her heart began beating faster in her chest, and she could feel heat warming her cheeks as Zayid drew a little closer, his gaze devouring hers. Filled with desire, her lips parted of their own accord, yearning for his kiss even though her mind screamed at her that she should back away and get out of the car.

But to her surprise, just when Madeline was sure their lips were about to meet, Zayid drew back with a smile. “Have a good evening, Madeline.”

“Good evening,” she blurted, and then grabbed her purse and exited the car as fast as she could without bolting. As relieved as she was that Zayid hadn’t attempted to take things further, she couldn’t deny the disappointment in her heart that she hadn’t felt his lips against hers.

Chapter Eight

Zayid walked into the laboratory building two days later with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, looking forward to seeing Madeline again. Following Vanessa’s advice, he’d decided to back off a bit and give Madeline space and time to get used to him, with the hopes that she would eventually start coming to him instead of running away every time he tried to get closer.

He’d wanted to kiss her so badly when he’d dropped her off at her apartment the other night—the way her eyes had flared hot with desire and her lips had parted in invitation had ignited a fire in him that had been nearly impossible to resist. But beneath the desire in her eyes, he’d glimpsed fear, and he’d known that if he’d pushed his luck she would have regretted the encounter. His hope was that if he left her desiring more, she would be more receptive to his next advance, or perhaps even make an advance of her own at some point. His smile widened at the thought.

When he walked into the lab and saw her pacing back and forth behind the island counter, her hands tangled in her hair, his smile disappeared as worry spread through his chest.

“Madeline? What’s wrong?”

Madeline jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, her green eyes a little wild. “Oh, it’s you.” She let out a breath, and a tiny bit of the tension drawing her shoulders tight seemed to ease. “I was wondering when you’d come by again.”

“Did you have need of me?” he asked curiously, drawing closer as he wondered whether or not the relief he’d glimpsed was because of his presence or some other reason. “You know you can call or text me anytime.”

“No, no,” Madeline waved her hand casually, but the tension didn’t leave her face. “I’m not dealing with anything you can help me with.”

“Well why don’t you tell me what it is anyway?” Zayid said gently, drawing two stools over to the island. He sat atop one, then patted the other, indicating she should join him. “Maybe I can at least offer some advice.”

“I doubt it.” Madeline huffed out a breath, but she sat. “Aisha came to talk to me this morning. Apparently our IVF project is getting a fair bit of attention, and City 7 TV wants to interview us. For some reason she’s decided to have
me
go on the air, because I’m American and would appeal to a wider audience when they rebroadcast the interview internationally.”

“Well that sounds like great news!” Zayid tried not to frown in puzzlement. “More publicity means the possibility of more support and funding, does it not?”

“Yes,” Madeline groused, “except that if
I’m
doing the interview, we’re probably going to
lose
funding.”

Now Zayid really did frown. “Why on earth would that happen?”

“Because I’m a terrible public speaker!” Madeline threw up her hands in frustration. “I know, it’s totally weird because I don’t have a problem being social or anything. But when I have to get up in front of an audience, and live television
is
in front of an audience even if I can’t see them, I just freeze up. I don’t know what it is, but my palms get sweaty and I forget what I’m talking about and—
ugh
.” She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Zayid patted her knee, trying not to notice that the beige skirt she wore was perilously close to exposing the skin there. She’d paired the pencil skirt with a dark green blouse that was tucked into it, drawing attention to her trim waistline and curvy hips despite the lab coat she wore over her ensemble. “It’s not the end of the world, Madeline. I can help you with this.”

“How?” Madeline dropped her eyes, a combination of hopelessness and desperation in her green eyes that actually made his heart ache a little for her. “There’s no way you can teach me how to speak in public, Zayid. I took several classes in college to try and overcome this issue and I still haven’t been able to. A couple of days of practice isn’t going to make a difference.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure it’ll make a world of difference if I go on the air with you.”

“What?”

Zayid smiled at the shock in her voice. “I’ve done my fair share of public appearances, both on and off screen. As an influential backer of your project, it wouldn’t look odd at all for me to be at the interview with you, and I can jump in when you freeze up or aren’t sure what to say.”

“But won’t people notice that you’re basically doing the interview for me?” Madeline bit her bottom lip. “I don’t want to look like I need you to take care of me or something.”

Annoyance sparked in Zayid’s chest at that, but he smothered it. “Madeline, it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Of course I won’t deliberately try to smother you in the interview. If anything, I’ll try to encourage you to speak more. But if I do end up taking most of the questions, that’s still better than not getting through the interview at all, right?”

“Yes.” Madeline ran a hand through her curly brown locks. She’d painted her nails a dark green to match her blouse, Zayid noted, and he wanted to snag her hand so that he could press kisses against those elegant fingers of hers. “Of course, you’re right. I just…I’ve got a bit of an ego, you know? I don’t like to look incompetent. But in this area I am, and I do need your help.”

“Well I’m happy to provide it.” Zayid did end up snagging her hand as she brought it back down to her lap, but he settled for a comforting squeeze rather than a kiss. “Just let me know when the interview is going to be, and I’ll have the media coordinator at the palace contact the news station to arrange everything.”