The Prince's Scandalous Baby (17 page)

BOOK: The Prince's Scandalous Baby
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“Or you might hit something,” Rosie murmured. “If you hadn’t been present yesterday, you might have run me over flat.”

 

Hakan laughed, then: a deep, pleasant laugh that erupted from his stomach. “Good point. Very, very good point.”

 

Their second course came, then: vine leaves, stuffed with meat and rice and covered in spiced oils. Rosie cut at hers with a knife and fork, watching as Hakan’s strong arm lifted the wine bottle and poured them each another drink.

 

“But you’d grow tired of being normal, surely,” she started, then. “You’re the head of one of the biggest media agencies in the world, and you’re incredibly powerful. People know your name.”

 

He shook his head, as if knowing that this topic would eventually come to light. “I’m only happy if people like you know my name. People who actually care about me, who ask me questions. The people who ‘know my name,’ as you say, are only interested in money and power. That’s exceedingly uninteresting, don’t you think?”

 

“I suppose so,” Rosie said. She felt that they were whispering together at the top of a mountain, after climbing from opposite sides and completely different worlds. Somehow, they could still speak the same language.

 

Hakan put his fork down, then. “I want to be completely honest with you, Rosie,” he murmured. “I don’t see any reason not to be…”

 

Rosie felt her throat closing. He was going to tell her that he was married, wasn’t he? How hadn’t she read the signs? How hadn’t the internet told her? God, it was just like that ex-athlete all over again (albeit with better wine).

 

But then he began. “In just a few days’ time, I’m meant to fly back home to my country, Zaymari.”

 

Rosie tried to picture the country on the map, but couldn’t. She had never been a master of geography. “Zaymari,” she said, feeling the word on her tongue. It dripped with honey, much like everything Hakan said.

 

“When I arrive back in Zaymari, I’m going to be crowned the constitutional monarch of the country. Which, I realize, sounds insane.”

 

Rosie nearly dropped her fork. Constitutional monarch? “So you’ll essentially be king of the country.”

 

He nodded, sighing. “Essentially, yes. I always knew that I would one day have to return to my country and assume the throne. I thought it wouldn’t happen until I was older, but my father died a few months ago, and that brought things forward slightly. I’ve had some time to prepare for it, but the fact that it’s finally happening, is, truthfully, quite terrifying.”

 

“I’m sorry about your father,” Rosie said meekly.

 

“He was ill for a long time,” Hakan said quietly. “And now, I must return for good. The reason I’m in Seattle right now is because I have a few last-minute business meetings before I must make Zaymari my primary base.”

 

“Since you’re the monarch, shouldn’t you be able to change the rules to suit your needs?” Rosie asked, knowing her voice sounded childlike. Why was she already trying to cling to him, somehow? To keep him in her life?

 

Hakan shook his head sadly. “I love my country, Rosie. I grew up there, and I love it more than I love the United States, even though I’ve lived most of my adult life here. And my mother is there. I want to be by her side, to help her into old age. And I want to work for my country, while keeping control of my media agency.” He shrugged. “I want everything, I suppose, because I’m selfish. So unlike you, as a nurse.”

 

Rosie burned inwardly. She had never asked for much in this life, and yet Hakan seemed to seek everything. Perhaps asking for things meant that you were more likely to find them.

 

Above all, however, Rosie was slowly realizing that this wasn’t the kind of relationship that was going to go anywhere. As it was, Hakan needed to move back to Zaymari in just a few days. She would be his last bit of America. And she would have to be fine with that.

 

“So, you only have a few days here, right?” Rosie worked herself up to say it, after a brief pause.

 

He nodded. He’d hardly touched his vine leaves. The air had changed.

 

“And you truly believe that hanging out with me, of all people, is the most enjoyable thing you could do?” she asked, laughing slightly. She heard her voice break. She felt like she was being dumped before anything had even begun.

 

Hakan put his knife and fork down again. He gave her a quick, mischievous smile. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

Rosie nodded, unsure.

 

“Okay. Do you believe in fate?” he asked.

 

Rosie brought her napkin to her mouth, shocked at the word he’d chosen. Was her vine leaf making her choke?

 

“Fate? Huh.” She paused, allowing the word to roll around her head for a moment. Fate meant you had a final destiny, a lasting purpose, right? She shook her head slowly, watching the disappointment grow in Hakan’s handsome face. “I don’t think I believe in it. No.”

 

Hakan raised his eyebrows. “Don’t be so quick to turn it down,” he said. “Fate has led both of us here, together. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for fate. I truly believe that.”

 

“Well, when your fate is that you’re a king, I’m sure it’s quite nice to believe in it. It’s already on your side,” Rosie laughed.

 

But Hakan shook his head. “Think about yesterday, Rosie. I was driving back to my hotel, completely unaware that a gorgeous woman named Rosie Lund, obstetric nurse, was out there in the world. And then, all at once, she walked diagonally through my path. And I had to swerve and crash so I didn’t kill her.” He shrugged, his eyes searching. “And if it weren’t for those tiny moments, all coming together like pieces of a puzzle, we wouldn’t be here together.” He brought his hand over the table and placed it over her slim fingers. She shivered. “Something strong brought us together. And I think you feel it, too.”

 

But Rosie didn’t want to feel it anymore.

 

She swallowed dryly. Sure, she felt their intense chemistry. She felt almost physical pleasure when she looked at him, when she saw him grin at her. But he was going to leave in just a few days. It was better not to get attached, she knew. It was better to enjoy this time, and then seal the envelope on this portion of her otherwise boring life, never to speak of it again.

 

Rosie shrugged, then, realizing she needed to speak. “Well. I can’t say it was fate that brought us together, Hakan. Not when what really brought us together was my abject clumsiness. Trust me. It’s famous around here.”

 

At that, Hakan let his head fall back and laughed, deeply, making her giggle along as well. In moments, they were laughing like children, on top of the world. Nobody else on earth would have understood the joke.

 

“If you say so, Rosie. If you say so,” he chuckled.

 

After the next course, Rosie excused herself to go to the bathroom. She wanted to ensure her lipstick was still stellar, that she didn’t look like such a lush after so much wine. It was lolling around her head, causing her to feel dizzy as she spoke.

 

In the mirror, she eyed herself warmly, tapping at her cheeks. She was twenty-nine, but looked younger, she thought. She hoped she would retain her looks into her thirties. Especially if she was ever going to get married. Perhaps this date would be the first of many encounters. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?

 

When Rosie returned to the table, she was surprised to see someone other than the waiter hovering by their table, speaking in harsh tones to Hakan.

 

The Middle-Eastern man, dressed in rich, earthy colors, was much older than Hakan, perhaps over seventy, and had wrinkled hands and beady eyes. His hands moved quickly as he spoke, creating a sort of spider dance. Rosie hung back until he noticed her, and immediately eyed her suspiciously. What was going on?

 

Soon, the man righted himself. Hakan thanked him for the information with a slight bow of his head, and the man acknowledged Rosie silently.

 

Rosie sat back down, her eyes questioning.

 

“One of my aides,” Hakan explained. “He can be a bit like a guard dog at times. Always watching out for me, certain that everything I do will ruin both me and the family.” He laughed. “Please, don’t let him bother you.”

 

“I won’t,” Rosie promised, feeling assured. Of course Hakan couldn’t choose the way all of his staff acted. And everyone was just human, after all. She decided to let the strange feeling pass.

 

Although she was full, she was more than ready to taste the next course. The spices and textures were incredible, transporting her to another, almost alien world.

 

They continued their meal, chatting blissfully about her work, about his expectations for when he arrived in his home country, and also about little things. Their favorite foods. Their favorite music. If she thought she might want to get married someday. Every topic was open to them, if only because Rosie knew they would never see each other again. She imagined, somehow, that she was just practicing for another date. But she couldn’t quite shake what he’d said earlier, about fate.

 

The waiter removed their empty plates and Hakan stood, extending his elbow for her to take.

 

Rosie did so, feeling herself teeter with the wine as she joined him. She placed her free hand over her mouth, dabbing at her lipstick. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much wine,” she murmured. “I’m more of a lightweight than I used to be.”

 

“Did I get you drunk? That was never my intention,” he said devilishly, winking at her afterwards.

 

She shook her head, again feeling that insane electricity between them.

 

As they boarded the elevator, they heard the last of the hubbub of the city below, and Rosie tried to memorize the gorgeous scene: the decorated table, the roses, the tealights, everything. She sighed into Hakan, leaning her heavy head on his chest. She longed for him, suddenly—feeling closer to him, to his body, than she had to anyone in years.

 

FOUR

Rosie and Hakan stood outside the restaurant, looking at each other with eager, wine-tinged eyes. They’d been speaking nearly non-stop for three hours, and yet, suddenly, they both found pause, unsure of what was meant to come next.

 

Rosie cleared her throat, finally. She knew she needed to act fast. This was her last chance—and she was throwing caution out the window.

 

“So, do you need help finding your hotel again? Because I might be available for a guided tour.” Her words were flirtatious, but were they too desperate? She worried inwardly.

 

But Hakan shook his head, gesturing toward the street, where a limousine sat, engine humming. “I think I have it covered.”

 

Rosie felt her heart slide down into the depths of her stomach. So this was it, then. She was going to be sent home, like Cinderella, while Hakan drove smoothly back to his old life. She supposed it was time, anyway. She could almost hear the clock striking.

 

“You know, you look beautiful tonight,” Hakan said, leaning toward her. “Your red hair, this dress. You’re mesmerizing.”

 

“You look very handsome yourself,” she whispered, her breath catching.

 

She began to lean toward him, then, thinking she’d just kiss him on the cheek; knowing she needed to leave before things became too painful for her.

 

But as she leaned further, she lost her balance, falling head-over-heels into his arms, clattering her heels on the ground on the way.

 

Hakan acted quickly, like a sportsman, extending his arms just so, allowing her to fall easily, smoothly into him. He held her tight in that moment, their eyes aligning. Rosie felt her heart stop. Could he sense how nervous she’d become? Could he sense that all she wanted was to kiss him?

 

All at once, he bridged the distance between them, bringing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes instinctively, feeling dizzy as their lips and tongues united in a sort of curious, quiet conversation.

 

Her passion opened her mouth still wider, as if she were suddenly crying out for his affection. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her entire body was folded into his, and he clung onto her tightly, rolling his hands over her back, wrapping them around her waist. His hands were large, sturdy. Everything about him spoke of masculinity, and it made her want him that much more.

 

Finally, they thrust their heads apart, blinking wildly. Hakan flashed his signature smile, and, without speaking, kissed her nose. Somehow, after no words being exchanged, they both understood. They held hands and leaped into the back of the limousine, wrapping their arms around each other as the door closed behind them, and falling into another passionate kiss.

 

Rosie didn’t notice the driver setting off through the streets of downtown. She fell full-tilt into the emotion of the moment, feeling the cool Seattle air as it flew over them through the open windows. Sounds of alarms and sirens and people talking surrounded them, becoming a backdrop to their story that began and ended with their embrace.

 

The limo pulled up to the Edgewater Hotel several minutes later, and they reluctantly drew back from each other. Hakan reared up toward the front and thanked the driver before he and Rosie leaped from the limo and raced toward the door. Rosie took a quick peek at the water, that which had given her such solace the day before, and felt her heart burn with fear and desire. She couldn’t question it anymore. She’d come too far.

 

They burst into the hotel and swept toward the elevator bank, their hands still clinging to each other. Hakan inserted his room key into a metallic panel, and the elevator doors swept wide, revealing floor-to-ceiling mirrors on all sides.

 

“You’ll love my suite,” he murmured, bringing his fingers through her hair. “It’s the presidential.”

 

“Not the ‘monarch’?” she teased, biting her lip before kissing him again.

 

The elevator swept them all the way to the top of the building before opening directly into the hotel penthouse. Rosie covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide, as she stepped into the cavernous room. Marble floors swept upward into marble columns. There was a gleaming kitchen on one side, with a breakfast nook that offered a view of the light peppered city, along with the largest bed she’d ever seen in her life. Mirrors lined the walls, and Rosie inspected herself shyly, realizing she looked better than she remembered. Her waist was scrunched tight, her legs toned from running all over the obstetrics floor.

 

She felt the Sheikh’s hands around her waist, then, and she spun around toward him, whispering, “This is the most remarkable night of my life.”

 

He kissed her again, hungrily, and she found that his fingers were on the buttons of her dress, that they were stripping each other naked and feeling each other’s warmth.

 

They fell onto the ground, on a luxurious woven rug that stretched over the marble, and they found each other’s bodies wholly, completely. Sex was like the capper of their continuous conversation, and their bodies seemed to understand the other’s language, despite coming from different worlds; despite having no future together. But together, they felt comfort and release.

 

Afterwards, they lay on the rug side by side, looking at each other with sleepy eyes.

 

“That was wonderful,” Hakan finally said, his words raspy. “You’re wonderful,” he added, running his finger over her cream-like skin on her upper arm.

 

Rosie looked at him longingly, rolling toward him and feeling his body against hers. She placed her head on his shoulder as he asked her, softly: “Do you want to crawl in bed with me?”

 

He helped her to her feet and they walked together, crawling under the blankets and finding solace in sleep. All night, they wrapped their limbs around each other, clinging on to this beautiful thing that couldn’t be theirs, not forever.

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