The Sheik and the Slave

Abdullah had educated himself and knew the talk of Katharine was from gossips who were jealous of her beauty and the power she might hold over the sheik. But he also knew that gossips could turn a falsity into the truth and rob Arabia of the powerful sheik's reputation.

He knew it was time to step in and get rid of the girl once and for all. Yasmeen had tried and failed. He would not.

***

She hadn't seen Mohammed since that wretched night at the theater. They had made love and he had discovered her pregnancy. She had never been pregnant before and unmarried ladies were kept woefully ignorant of such knowledge until they became married and respectable. How could she have known?

The scene with Mohammed had replayed itself over and over again in her mind, and as she had traveled back to England, she knew he would come after her. What was she to say to him? After all, he was the father of her unborn child. Worse than that was the situation she found herself in with Jamie.

He had gambled and drank away his family's fortune. He told her of it one afternoon when he had calmed down, after she agreed to marry him. Early in his teenage years, he had found he had an affection for men and did not pursue the young women of his age and breeding.

He had become taken with a younger man from a very affluent family and begun spending time with him. The man was a cad whose family had all but disowned him. Jamie spent more and more time with the man, spending money at the gambling halls, drinking, and wagering vast amounts to keep the young man's attention. A year later, he was in severe trouble.

Jamie's father had insisted he not see the man anymore and had spoken to Katharine's father about a betrothal. Jamie’s family wanted him to appear respectable again.

Katharine’s choices were dim. Mohammed was her unborn child's father. But not only that, if her child was a boy, he would be the next sheik of Arabia, supplanting his father when Mohammed died.

But Katharine knew that his people would never want her as their queen and lady, and she worried about an uprising that would harm Mohammed's country. She didn't want to undermine anything that Mohammed had made, and she worried with the uncertainty of it all.

Katharine had no one to turn to. She dared not tell her family she was breeding; they would be ashamed. So she kept all of her secrets inside. She was sleeping poorly and her eyes were dark, with circles underneath them.

She was only content when she walked along the small creek that wound through her father's property. England was green and lush and she had missed it so when she had been suffocating in Arabia. But now that she was in England, her heart longed for the heat and sand of Arabia and the proud sheik.

She settled herself under a great oak tree as the creek trickled by. She removed her shoes and breathed a sigh of relief. She had a very poor appetite, with bouts on nausea in the morning. In the afternoon, she was able to consume bread and tea. She leaned her head against the tree with her hands over her belly and sank into a light slumber.

***

He had been walking through her father's property for a while. The grooms pointed him in the direction she had taken to walking, but it was still a vast and green estate.

The marriage certificate still burned a hole in his breast pocket, and he longed to confront her father. But secretly, he was torn. He didn't want her screaming down the local clergyman’s aisle, claiming he kidnapped her.

He wanted her pliant and warm in his arms as she had been that first night. He wanted her dressed in silk, surrounded by her family, with obedient words on her lips.

He had been enraged when he had felt her rounded belly that evening of the opera. He had thought that she meant to conceal it from him. But the more he thought about that evening, the more he knew that she had been unaware of her condition. After he had given her the ultimatum, he had gone back to his lodging and it had sunk in.

She was pregnant! His beautiful lady with hair like the Sahara sands and eyes like the Arabian Sea was pregnant. Inside her belly was a child they had created. Inside her belly was the next sheik of Arabia, a son to carry on all that he had created. A son!

After that night, he realized what he wanted. For the first time, he didn't want to command and demand; he wanted her love. He came onto her father's property alone to quietly talk to her. The grooms had indicated she was out on the property and led him to the creek. He found her lying on her back next to a tree, with her soft white hands resting on her belly. She was lovely in a simple yellow linen dress.

He had a large harem with women to please him every day of the week, but he wanted this one sleeping beside him for the rest of their lives.

Her face seemed serene in sleep, but she looked like she had lost weight. This was not uncommon in pregnancy; he had seen it with Yasmeen. She must be alone here in her home with no one to speak to about her situation, he thought. She was a gently brought up woman and a pregnancy outside of marriage is unthinkable. He had done this to her and he felt ashamed.

He should have married her in Arabia, because now he risked losing her. It was unthinkable. She was his. He would never let her go.

Mohammed bent down to touch her face as she slept. Her face was soft and almost like silk.

"Princess," he spoke softly.

She stirred but didn't wake.

He touched her hair as it fanned out and lifted a lock to his nose. The smell of jasmine wafted into his senses and he felt himself tighten with desire and lust. He remembered that time she had been scented with it and he had asked her why. “Because you like it," she had said.

He ached to have her moaning beneath him again. His desire for her was great, and she now swelled with their child because of it.

"Princess," he spoke quietly and watched as she moaned in her sleep and her eyes blinked open.

She looked at him questioningly, closing her eyes once and then opening them again.