The Sheikh's Pregnant Employee (Almasi Sheikhs 3)

“It started before then,” Zahir admitted. He gave the brief history of their unexpected hook-up prior to her job at Almasi-Thomas. “About a month ago, we decided to just go for it. Keep having fun and meeting up, because obviously denying it wasn’t working.”

“That is never the solution,” Omar murmured, pouring himself a whisky. Zahir realized he hadn’t offered him one and swore.

“Sorry. I should have made you one.” He tipped some of the amber liquid into his mouth, sucking at his teeth. “Anyway, in the meantime, father springs the marriage on me. My original thought was that we could continue anyway. I’ve never met the woman, and it’s not like I’m seeing someone else. So what’s the harm? Except tonight I decided I should tell her. Just to clear the air.”

Omar tutted. “Let me guess. She didn’t take it well?”

Zahir shook his head, wincing against another sip of whisky. “She left the restaurant and told me to fuck off.”

Omar stared out at the inky sky of the Minarak night, swirling his own whisky in his glass. “And?”

“And? What do you mean? This is self-explanatory.”

Omar smiled mysteriously. “Why would you care about her getting upset? It seemed like a physical arrangement. You’ve had plenty of those.”

“I hurt her. Badly.” Zahir downed the rest of his whisky, finally feeling the heat of alcohol in his veins. “And I love her.”

Omar nodded as if he’d been waiting for it all along. “There it is.”

Zahir groaned, just as Marian came down the hallway. She glanced curiously between the two of them. “Hey, Zahir. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just work trouble.” Omar smiled placidly.

“I fucked things up with Layla,” Zahir corrected, shooting a glance at Omar. “I came here for help.”

Marian raised her palms in the air. “I know nothing, I say nothing.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Zahir narrowed his eyes at his sister-in-law, pouring another whisky. This had to be his last, or he’d go down a dark path.

“So, will you or will you not marry the girl father chose for you?” Omar’s voice was too calm for the strife in Zahir’s chest. It irked him.

“Of course I will,” he spat, his nostrils flaring. “I have to. There’s no other choice.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“Yes, I do.” Zahir scowled into his glass as he took another sip.

Omar didn’t look convinced. “Does it help to know he chose this bride for the company’s sake? It’s the best business move. The bride’s family has land that he wants to mine.”

Zahir grunted.

“He himself married our mother so that he could drill the fields we now own a stake in.” Omar put on an encouraging face, which only made Zahir frown.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Then think of this,” Omar went on. “Layla is a strong woman. She will recover. She can survive this. You just need to do what’s right.”

“But maybe the right thing isn’t marrying this stranger,” Marian countered, her voice edged with something unknown. “How do you know what’s best?”

“We all do what is best for the family,” Omar said, addressing Marian. “There are no exceptions to this.”

Marian’s gaze went dark. “Exactly my point.”

Zahir blinked at each of them. “What…is going on?”

Marian flipped her hair. “I’m not getting involved. I just think you and Layla need to have a conversation so she can say everything she needs to say.”

A frighteningly thick silence settled between them, one that suffocated at the same time it penetrated.