The Sheikh's Pregnant Lover (Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid 1) - Page 37

Hannah snickered and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Kyril grinned, ignoring this. “It’s well-suited to convert into a living space. And…it’s yours.”

“Mine?”

“Yours to renovate as you wish. It will be your own space, away from the main palace. Private.” He paused. “Independent.”

Her entire soul melted with happiness.

“Until the renovations are complete…” Kyril rubbed one hand around his cufflinks. “You’re free to live anywhere you wish.” She could tell it was difficult for him to say. “I have to stay at the palace, since I’m the head of the country, but you are free to make your own way for a while. I only hope—” He cleared his throat, and Hannah longed to kiss him. Anything to take away how brittle he felt. “Is it too much to hope that you might come back and live with me?”

“Yes,” Hannah said instantly, and Kyril’s face fell. “No! I meant—” She laughed, glee bubbling in her chest. “It’s not too much to hope.” She took Kyril’s hands in hers. “I love you. I was so lonely without you, and I even—I never thought I’d say this—I even miss Adira and Daya. My world is not complete without you in it.”

He took her in his arms then, and his kiss was as hot and new as the week they’d spent together all those months before. Her body responded to him in the exact same way—falling, falling. She couldn’t help that she’d fallen in love with him when he kissed her like that—hard and possessive, his tongue battling hers. It was so deep that Hannah didn’t want to surface, but she did, because a person has to breathe.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Kyril said as she tucked her head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. “There is no world without you. You are my world.”

“You’re mine,” she breathed, and it was the truest thing she’d ever said. “You’re mine, Kyril. Take me home?”

Epilogue

Little Inan, Kyril’s son for ten soul-shattering days, slept peacefully in his arms. He still couldn’t believe the sturdy feather-weight of him. His son! His own son. It was as if his heart had expanded to three times its size the moment he came into the world. What a day that had been. Kyril had assumed his child’s arrival would be exciting, but he hadn’t counted on the soaring joy at the birth and the plummeting fear at Hannah’s pain. She’d been such a courageous warrior. It had only confirmed how strong she was, once again.

Every time he looked into his son’s face, the joy swept him away, as if it had all happened yesterday. Ten days on, and all the days did blur together—Hannah insisted on their caring for their son themselves, at least for the early weeks of his life—so it might as well have been yesterday.

Kyril’s thoughts were getting away from him. He was supposed to be paying attention to the grand unveiling of his new home with Hannah, and he’d already missed some of what she’d said.

Hannah led the way through the carriage house, their new home. It was finished at last, and she glowed with pride.

“I know it’s a bit English cottage,” she said, “but I love that historical look. All the modern conveniences, but with touches from the local marketplace.” She paused in the bright kitchen, an airy space anchored by dark wood features. Kyril loved it. There were splashes of rich color—red, yellow—that reminded him of the main palace, but didn’t overwhelm Hannah’s vision.

Hannah bit her lip. “Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” he told her, and he meant it.

They moved through the expansive living room and up the stairs to the second floor. It was spacious, with room enough for a master suite, three smaller bedrooms, and a large office and den. Kyril’s eyes swept every space for details, and he was impressed. Not a single cord dangled from a curtain or blind. All the furniture, despite its expensive sheen, had soft rounded corners or no corners at all. He’d bit his tongue all through the renovation, wanting badly to mention babyproofing, but Hannah had seen to every detail.

Hannah stood in the middle of the master suite, the sunlight catching her blonde hair. She wore a thobe, modified to fit her personal style. The shape was lovely on her curves, but the color was unexpected, a pop of her personality. “And this is our bedroom. It’s my favorite room in the house.” She looked around, then nodded to herself. “It’s all done. We only need to move our things from the main palace.”

Kyril looked at his wife.

“What?” Her cheeks flushed. “Is there something wrong?”

“With you? Never.” He swept her into a one-armed embrace and kissed her, her lips parting for him for a moment before she pushed him away, laughing.

“Our son is watching,” she said with a grin before taking the baby from Kyril’s arms. “And you didn’t even wrap him in bubble wrap! I’m so proud of you.”

Kyril’s arms felt suddenly empty. “Wait—didn’t we miss one room?”

Hannah’s eyes went wide. “The nursery! Come see.”

They made their way down the hall and into the nursery.

The sight of it took Kyril’s breath away.

It was like being inside of the world’s most beautiful globe. Every wall was painted with a world map, the lines of the coasts etched in gorgeous relief.

“What are those?” A small star marked Venice. And another, Santorini, the tiny island covered by the decoration. Paris. Rome. Al-Dashalid.

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