The Sheikh’s Reluctant Bride (9 page)

“I met Aunt Aminah,” she said, pulling back after a long moment.

“How is my sister and her family?”

“Fine. She misses her daughters,” she answered glancing up at him. “I’m sorry. This is His Royal Highness Kardahl Hourani—”

“Your husband. I have seen the news reports of your marriage.”

He held out his hand. “It is a pleasure, Doctor.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Highness.” She slid her fingers into his. “I apologize that I could not meet you in the capital. My work is demanding. I regret that you had to come all this way.”

Jessica smiled. “It was no problem. Kardahl has a plane and he knows how to use it.”

Her aunt laughed. “Still, it was good of you to bring her to me.”

“It
was
good of him.” Jessica smiled and when she met his gaze, there was warm affection in her eyes.

He liked it when she looked at him that way and could too easily grow accustomed to seeing that winsome expression on her face. “Would you still think me good if I told you I was showing off for my bride?”

“I doubt it was just that,” the doctor said. She looked at her niece. “I have spoken with my parents and they wanted me to tell you that they are most anxious to meet you and will be home soon. Their schedule of meetings with foreign dignitaries could not be called off, not even for something so important as meeting their granddaughter.”

Jessica swallowed hard. “I’ve been told they searched all these years for my mother. She changed her name, which is probably why the search was unsuccessful.”

Janan sighed. “I wish it could have been different, but we cannot alter what has been. We can only be grateful for what is now. And I am most grateful that you have come.”

“Since we are here,” he said, “would you be so kind as to show us around the facility?”

Her black eyes glowed with pride. “It would be my pleasure.”

For the next hour Jessica’s aunt took them through Radiology, Cardiology, Surgery, Respiratory and Outpatient Services. She showed them the building where various research studies were being conducted, with revenue spent on promising cancer drugs and diabetes treatments.

As they were walking down the hall, Janan announced, “I have saved the best for last.”

She pressed a square metal pad on the wall and the double doors opened automatically. On the left was a large window. Behind it was an open room with rows and rows of newborns and nurses attending to the ones in most need of attention, a fact revealed by their red-faced crying.

“This is the newborn nursery,” the doctor explained.

Jessica moved close to the glass and smiled as she stared beyond it. “They’re so sweet.”

“Our most precious natural resource,” her aunt agreed.

“I said that to Kardahl once,” Jessica said. “They’re just too precious for words. Don’t you think so, Kardahl?”

He moved beside her and saw the infants, some squirming and flailing tiny fists. Others sleeping the sleep of the innocent. He barely heard Jessica’s words as pain punched through him, and it was like none he had ever known. He had never let himself picture his son or daughter as a living, breathing child. Now he knew why. He had not wanted to think about the fragile life lost, the dreams and deeds that were never to be.

Until this moment he had been successful in burying this part of his grief but now it sat like a stone on his chest. He could not breathe.

Without a word, he turned and walked away.

“K
ARDAHL
! Wait.”

“I wish to be alone.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Too stunned to move at first, Jessica stared at his broad back for several moments before running after him. When she caught up at the elevator, a brief view of his dark expression put fear in her heart as the doors whispered shut.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she said to her aunt who had followed. There must be something wrong because just a glimpse of the stark misery on his face convinced her there was something terribly not right.

She pushed the down button. “I have to go after him.”

“I have seen that look before,” her aunt said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning. “You’ve seen Kardahl before?”

“Not him specifically. The expression. Pain. Loss. As a doctor, I use my skill and knowledge and everything I have for my patients. But sometimes there is nothing that can be done. And I have to relay this information to the family that their loved one is beyond help.” She met Jess’s gaze. “He had the look of one who has heard, but has not yet let go.”

Jess jabbed the elevator button, as if that would make it come faster. “I have to go after him,” she said again. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

“It is what he wants.”

Jess turned on her. “That’s what he said, but it’s not what he really wants. He lost someone he loved very much. So did I. When my mother died, I was all alone in the world.

Her aunt looked stricken. “Jessica, we did not know—”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying I know how alone feels. Then I came to Bha’Khar and Kardahl has been here for me.”

“Of course. He is your husband. You care for him. That is obvious.”

Obvious that she cared? Jess hoped that wasn’t true. Although she knew it was hard not to care for a man who had been there for her practically from the moment she’d arrived in his country—her country. His support had given her confidence and smoothed the way for meeting her family. Whether he knew it or not, he needed someone now and she wouldn’t abandon him.

“He is my husband, Aunt Janan. And I must go to him.”

Her aunt nodded. “Go. We will see each other again soon.”

Jess hugged her tightly for several moments, then released her and stepped into the elevator.

Jessica paced the penthouse suite at the Ritz-Carlton Akaba. Kardahl had given instructions for her to be brought here but he was missing and she was getting frantic for him to return. If she’d had any idea where to look, she would have, but she knew nothing about the city or where he would go.

Hours of this waiting was driving her crazy with worry. In her work she saw kids like herself who’d lost everything. She’d seen desperation and loneliness mixed with gut-wrenching grief. And she’d recognized it again in the soul-deep sorrow in Kardahl’s eyes. Where did a desperate man go? What would he do to outrun whatever demons chased him?

She walked out on the balcony that overlooked the cosmopolitan high-rises that made up the skyline of this bustling city. Far below there was traffic noise. She heard the occasional horn honking and the screech of brakes. The sun had gone down and still there had been no word from Kardahl. Apprehension knotted inside her and squeezed out hunger and every other need but the one to know he was safe. How could she do anything until she knew where he was, how he was and what was wrong?

Instinct told her this was about something more than losing the love of his life. He’d told her about that and she’d been almost certain that afterward the shadows had lifted from him.

Back inside the suite she paced into the marble-tiled foyer with the circular table and vase filled with red roses. She stood on tiptoe to peek through the security peephole, hoping he would be there, disappointed when there was no sign.

She wandered back through the living room, glancing at the elegant floral love seats, rich dark wood tables and the graceful dining room set with the matching breakfront. In the bedroom, a plasma screen TV was mounted on the wall across from a king-size four-poster bed. As a kid, she’d always longed for pretty clothes and plush surroundings as if lack of it was all that was wrong with her life. Now she had things but everything was wrong. Nothing could erase the worry gnawing away at her. And she realized the finest material things in the world wouldn’t have made a difference while she waited all those long nights for her mother.

It wouldn’t have eased the anxiety of wondering whether or not her mother would come home at all, or in what condition. It wouldn’t have helped when her mother was drunk or when the man she’d thought would love her had let her down again and Jess held her while she cried. It wouldn’t…

She heard the door open and close and relief broke through the worry gripping her. Hurrying into the living area, she saw Kardahl lower himself to the love seat. Lines of weariness carved grooves on either side of his nose and mouth. He scrubbed both hands over his face as he let out a deep, sad sigh.

She didn’t know why the sight of those innocent babies had triggered this reaction in him, but every instinct she had urged her to comfort him, touch him, let him know he wasn’t alone.

She sat down beside him and put her hand on his arm. “Kardahl, what is it?”

He shrugged her off. “I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Tough.” She touched him again and her determination got his attention.

“Leave me.”

“No.” She put her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his cheek. Her hair caught on the stubble as she nuzzled him. “You don’t have to talk. You just need to know I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He turned his head, meeting her gaze with surprise in his own.

“Jessica—” Her name, a whisper on his lips, was a plea for something she didn’t understand.

She touched her mouth to his and felt his conflict, his reluctance to take the comfort she offered, but she wouldn’t be discouraged. She deepened the kiss and his shoulders tensed, his breathing grew faster, and the groan that sounded in his throat came from somewhere deep down inside him.

He gathered her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. He held her for what seemed an eternity before cupping her cheek in his palm and capturing her mouth with his own. Need crested through her on a wave of heat that scorched rational thought and turned it to ashes.

She couldn’t kiss him hard enough, deep enough, or get enough air into her lungs. She pressed her breasts to his chest, straining to get closer.

The next thing she knew, Kardahl stood with her in his strong arms and walked into the bedroom. Settling a knee on the mattress, he placed her in the center of the bed with exquisite gentleness.

“I want you.” His voice was warm and soft and seductive as black velvet.

He stretched out beside her and undid the buttons on her blouse. Looking his fill at her virginal-white cotton bra, he leaned close and peppered kisses over her neck. Then he parted the sides of her shirt and pressed his mouth between her breasts, tracing her cleavage with his tongue. It was like a jolt of electricity that zapped her from head to toe and made her fingertips tingle.

And she knew. This was what she’d been waiting for—to be swept away by desire, to feel such passion that nothing else on earth mattered but being with this man.

“I want you,” she answered, meeting his gaze before wrapping her arms tightly around him.

Rational thought slipped away as her senses took over and reveled in touching and being touched.

If one could be damned to hell twice, Kardahl knew it would still not be sufficient punishment for what he had done. Not only had he broken his promise not to touch his wife, but he had taken her virginity. How was it possible that she had never been with a man? She was so beautiful yet she had come to him pure as the driven snow and he had callously stolen her innocence.

Mesmerized by the rust-colored evidence on the twisted sheets, he damned himself in four languages. He truly was the bastard prince—every bit the rogue and scoundrel the tabloids portrayed him to be. A better man would not have savored the feel of her bare flesh pressed to his as he had held her in his arms through a night that had been far too short. A better man wouldn’t want her again, but Jessica had told him more than once that he was not a better man.

He whirled at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Steam from her shower followed Jessica into the room. The perfect body he had memorized every inch of the night before was swallowed by a thick, white terry-cloth robe. Her still-wet hair hung straight around her small face, a face naturally beautiful and free of cosmetics.

When she noticed him watching, she smiled and the look was like an arrow to his heart—an arrow comprised of passionate intensity with a sharp tip of guilt. She was spirited and generous as well as smart and beautiful. Had he but known she had never been with a man he would have…

“Why did you not tell me you were a virgin?” he demanded, putting emphasis on the past tense.

Her hands, in the act of drying her hair, instantly stilled. When she met his gaze, her smile wavered, then disappeared. “Some men would think it was a good thing. You make it sound like a disorder. I promise it’s not contagious.”

“That is not—You twist my words.” He ran his fingers through his hair, struggling with what to say. He had never faced such a situation. “Why did you not say something before it was too late?”

He remembered wanting her more than his next breath, needing to be inside her. He had never felt such passion, and he knew it had been fueled by her simple and unsullied desire, an innocence he now understood. But there had been a moment after entering her, the briefest of seconds after her gasp of discomfort that he had thought was passion. Awareness of her virginal barrier had penetrated his desire-fogged brain, but he failed to grasp the significance in time.

“Too late?” she repeated. “That implies regret. I suppose a good deal more experience on my part would be required to achieve your accustomed standards.”

“That is not what I meant—”

“I have to tell you as standards go, it was all a bit disappointing for me. I’m having a little trouble understanding what all the fuss is about.”

How did he tell her what she had given him was a most precious gift? She was right. Most men, unless they were complete idiots, would be giddy with joy and probably feeling a healthy dose of pride at being her first. But it was so much more complicated than that.

Kardahl saw the hurt in her eyes and knew he was handling this badly, almost as badly as he had handled her last night. But that was not completely his fault.

“With pertinent information, there are things a man can do to make the first time easier for a woman, more satisfying. If you had told me—”

“So you’re saying we have to work on our communication.” She dropped her arm and let the towel dangle from her fingers. Her full lips pressed together into a straight line. “Right back at you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have some explaining to do, too.”

“I do not understand.”

“Yesterday—Why did you walk out of the hospital without a word?”

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

She tapped her full lips with a finger. “See, that’s the thing about communication. It works both ways.”

“Your meaning?”

“I didn’t wish to speak of the fact that I’d never slept with a man, and yet somehow we just talked about it.”

“We did not. You never told me why I was so honored to be the first.”

“An honor?” She turned away and settled the wet hand towel on the bathroom doorknob. “Just now, you didn’t act honored. However, you’re changing the subject. Why did you walk out of the hospital when we saw the babies?”

He closed his eyes as a vision of new life flashed into his mind. Then he felt Jessica’s hand on his arm.

“What about the babies?”

“No—”

“You need to talk about it, Kardahl.”

“Why?” he demanded. “What is the point of remembering what you can do nothing about?”

“You can’t change it,” she agreed. “But if you don’t deal with heartbreak, the pain becomes like a festering wound. You need to let out the poison. Talk. Air out everything. Eventually healing happens.”

“A wound this deep will not heal.”

“You won’t know unless you try,” she pleaded.

He turned away and went to the window, watching the sun’s rays peek over the top of a jagged mountain. “Antonia was pregnant.”

Several moments of stunned silence followed before she said, “She was carrying your baby?”

“Yes.”

“Did your family know?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was going to tell them. Then—There was no need.”

“Oh God. You didn’t just lose the love of your life. You lost your child, too.”

“She was just starting the second trimester.” He recalled putting his hand on her belly, feeling the subtle changes in her body brought about by the life their love had created. “The child was real to me. That night, the night of the accident, we were discussing our marriage.”

“The prospect of going against tradition?”

“I did not care about that.” He turned, his chest knotting at the sympathy in her eyes. “And after losing them, I only wished to never care again.”

He was seen with women all the time, but never let anyone into his heart. Until Jessica, he had been successful in that endeavor, but she was making him feel again. That did not mean the behavior was to be encouraged and he would not. Caring was a pathway to pain.

“Kardahl, I don’t know what to say. I’m so terribly sorry.”

“It is in the past.”

“Right. If you believe that, then you’re lying to yourself. The look on your face when you saw the babies—” She pressed a hand to her chest. “It broke my heart. And when you left so suddenly—I was worried about you.”

“I did not mean to distress you.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was concerned about you—”

When she touched him, he pulled away because he so badly wanted to pull her into his arms. Last night he had found comfort with her as he had no one else. She was making him want to forget his promise and let the tenderness he felt bloom. The sooner she completed her family obligations, the sooner she could go back to America, which would be best for both of them.