The Sheikh’s Instant Family (The Safar Sheikhs 2)

Amad shrugged. “Whatever you want, honey.”

Another woman might take him up on it. Vanessa just shook her head; he’d given her more than enough already. She leaned back in her seat, watching the employees of the private airport checking things out on the tarmac as Amad settled into the seat beside her. He got lost in his phone for a few moments before sighing and pocketing it.

“All good?” she asked just as a flight attendant boarded the plane with a bright smile and immediately got busy in a little area tucked off to the side.

“Yes. Just some business details.” Amad crossed his fingers, tapping his thumb against his knuckle. “Are you sure you’re okay with the extended trip abroad?”

When Amad had suggested she accompany him on his next visit home, she’d agreed in a heartbeat. Meeting the family seemed right, now that they had a new family member on the way. After all, it wasn’t like she had much in Vegas. Her friends, sure, but beyond them? An emotionally distant mother who’d always encouraged her to be a gold digger. Wasn’t too hard to walk away from that.

Even though her mother’s “advice” was never far from Vanessa’s mind. It was precisely what had made Vanessa stick with the lease on her apartment. She didn’t want to be left high and dry when this thing came crashing down. Whether it was in weeks or months or years, it couldn’t last. They’d realize eventually that they’d been rash or dumb or idealistic, and probably Amad would be the one to bow out and move on to greener pastures. She could see it all already, like a movie she hated watching but had been playing nonstop since childhood.

Despite her conditioning to distrust all men and see them as mere sources of money, she wanted to believe that there was something special beneath all this. She wanted to prove to herself that it wasn’t, and never had been, about the money with Amad. Hell, she hadn’t even realized he had so much money. Which meant the pressure was on now to distance herself from the wealth.

“I’m fine with it, as long as you are.” She nibbled on her lip, casting a nervous glance his way. “I don’t want you to get back to your homeland and think, ‘What the hell have I done?’ I mean, I’m just some poor American girl. I have nothing to offer.”

Amad sent her a flat look that said, Oh, please. “Babe, you have more to offer in your pinky finger than some of the members of my own family.”

“I doubt that,” she replied.

“You are the light of every room you walk into,” Amad said, counting off fingers. “Your smile deserves to be on billboards. You constantly enjoy life, even when you’re sad. You love a good challenge. And that ass…” He bit his bottom lip, narrowing his eyes. “Did I mention that ass?”

She laughed, swatting at his arm. The stewardess emerged from the kitchenette holding a tray with a glass of orange juice. She approached Vanessa, offering the glass. On a small plate next to the juice were two fat pills.

“Uh,” Vanessa said, “what’s going on here? Are these sleeping pills for the ride?”

Amad snatched the juice and pills, thanking the stewardess. “Of course not. Just prenatal pills with some fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

Vanessa rolled her lips inward. Somehow, tears were begging to escape again. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m not. They’re horse pills, and you won’t wake up for a week,” Amad cracked.

“I had a sneaking suspicion you’d prefer me asleep for the whole trip,” she teased before popping the pills into her mouth and washed them down.

“Oh, God. Never.” Amad scooped her hand up in his and brought it to his lips. “You are perfect and stunning and vivacious. Can’t a man take care of his wife?”

She fought a grin as she sipped at the juice. It really was fresh squeezed. “It’ll take some getting used to. All of it will.” She paused, wondering how much she should reveal. But her past had been weighing heavily on her since their wedding night. “I just want to make sure we do this better than what I had growing up. The marriage…parenting. Everything. My mom wasn’t…great. I never knew my father. Never even had a father figure. I just want our baby to have stability. To have a good life.”

“And I promise you, no matter what, our baby will have the best life imaginable.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He already has the two best parents possible. And that’s a pretty good start.”

The two of them lapsed into cuddling and chatting as the plane took off and found its cruising altitude high above the clouds. Hours melted away between light naps, fresh snacks, and lots of conversation. Once they were about an hour outside of Amatbah, Vanessa wanted the official rundown.

“So you’re sure everyone is okay with the fact that I’m from the other side of the world? From Vegas, no less?”

“My brothers are modern, I promise. There will be no issue. In fact, my elder brother just married a Westerner like yourself. So you’ll be in good company.”

Vanessa lifted a brow. “Another English-speaking American?”

“Exactly. She’s half-Amatbahn but grew up in the States. Her name is Calla. I think you two will get along well, actually. She’s a fashion designer, and I’ve had it in the back of my head that you might be able to do some modeling for her.”

Vanessa tried to squash the pangs of excitement. She didn’t want to get too invested in planning and the future. It was a tactical defense. “So who is the king of your country?”

“My brother, Fatim.”

“And what about your parents?”

“They’re no longer with us. My mother passed ages ago, and my father joined her about seven years back. Fatim has been ruling Amatbah ever since.”

“Wow.” Vanessa clucked her tongue. To say that she had been grossly underinformed about Amad’s personal history was an understatement. Would that have changed her decision to marry him?