The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights 2)

This was about Lujayn. He just knew it was.

If it was something that might drive her further away, he didn’t want to know it.

But Fadi was already talking. Already telling him. And it was too late. Too incomprehensible. Too…impossible.

Long after Fadi had delivered his report, Jalal stared at him, nothing left in his mind, in the world, but five of the words Fadi had said.

“Lujayn Morgan has a child.”

Six

Jalal walked into the room he’d left half an hour ago to intercept Lujayn. He’d thought he’d walk back in alongside her, with at least a preliminary agreement to resume their intimacies.

He returned alone now to find her looking relaxed and at home with her family, the center of his guests’ attention. At his entry, as the others showed their pleasure and enthusiasm to have him back, she regarded him as if she’d never seen him before.

He looked at her in the same way. He did feel as if he was looking at a stranger. A breathtaking stranger with crystal cool eyes who lived inside the body of the woman who’d ruled his thoughts and desires for too long. The woman he’d thought he’d known to the last reaches of intimacy but whom he was finding out that he’d never known. The woman who hadn’t even hinted at the life-changing fact of being a mother.

This had to be the answer he’d been looking for—why she’d been adamant about pushing him away. Because her life and priorities had changed, she had changed, when she’d had a child.

The knowledge rocked through him all over again as he watched everyone returning to their seats, all looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to direct what remained of this gathering.

He looked from Bassel and Faizah, Lujayn’s uncle and his wife—people he’d met for the first time—to Badreyah, her mother. He’d decided getting close to Lujayn would be through those who constituted the major part of her life. He’d been determined that, even if he found nothing about them to like, he’d put up with them. He would have endured anything to have her again.

To his surprise and delight, they’d stopped being a means to an end within minutes of meeting them. Everything about and from them had felt genuine, heartfelt. It had restored his jaded senses to be shown esteem without fawning, gratitude without groveling. They were good-natured, highly educated, well-spoken. They were dignified, refined. The hours he’d spent in their company had been a pleasure he’d looked forward to repeating on a regular basis.

Until Fadi had detonated that revelation.

Not that he would renege on restoring their name and honor. Or the position he’d offered her uncle, for which he was more than qualified. But any further personal interaction depended on what he found out about Lujayn’s child.

He hadn’t even asked Fadi if her child was a girl or a boy.

He hadn’t asked how old it was. Whose it was.

Even if Fadi knew the answers, Jalal hadn’t wanted to know them. Not from him. Lujayn had to be the one who answered his questions.

And he wanted those answers now. Now.

His head and heart felt they’d rupture with the frustration of not knowing. But no matter how terrible the need to know was, he had to proclaim his commitment to the Al Ghamdis first.

Forcing a smile on his spastic lips, he looked over to Labeeb, his waseef, his gentleman’s gentleman. Taking his role as seriously as Fadi did his, Labeeb was already enacting the agreed-on sequence, distributing coffee, the stage where Jalal would deliver the evening’s summation and declare his intentions.

After everyone had filled crystal cups in hand, and the aroma of freshly brewed Arabian coffee and cardamom filled the air, Jalal moved to face the gathering. Apart from the quartet of Lujayn’s family, there were fourteen other people: four men and three women—the supporting players in his campaign—plus their spouses.

He enveloped them in a glance, avoiding looking at Lujayn. If he looked at her now, he’d forget everything.

He raised his glass in a toast, waited until everyone did the same, then said, “Thank you for coming to my humble rented abode, and for making this evening far better than anything I could have anticipated. You know what we’re celebrating tonight, but let me make it official.” He turned his eyes to Bassel, found him flushed, eyes sparkling with barely repressed emotion. “It’s my privilege and pleasure to welcome Sheikh Bassel Aal Ghamdi to our campaign. Sheikh Bassel has honored me by accepting the position of my personal liaison within our campaign. He’ll be coordinating your efforts and reporting directly to me or to Fadi.”

Murmurs of approval buzzed throughout the room as everyone turned to Bassel shaking his hand, patting him on the back and congratulating his family. Bassel and his wife and sister looked too moved to articulate, could only answer with tearful smiles. Jalal ventured a look at Lujayn, found her accepting collateral congratulations. He bet it was only he who could see that her smile was brittle and her eyes were cold with fury. He walked closer, until she raised grudging eyes to his.

His heart thudded at their inevitable effect as he insisted her family remained seated as he shook their hands again, sealing the deal. “And though Sheikh Bassel was reluctant to flaunt the scope of his expertise, no matter how much I prodded him throughout dinner, trust me when I say we’ve added an invaluable asset to our team today. I’m only thankful for the circumstances that brought his abilities to my attention.”

Ire sparked in Lujayn’s eyes. She clearly didn’t appreciate those “circumstances.”

He swerved his focus to the others. “Now with Sheikh Bassel’s contribution, if I don’t get that throne, you’ll know you’ve just bet on the wrong horse.”

Laughter rose. He had to conclude this before the general good mood snapped the tenuous control he had over his increasingly agitated one. He hated to bring up the touchy subject, but he needed his aides to be absolutely clear about it.

His gesture indicated he had more to say. Instant silence fell as every eye turned to him again.

“But I didn’t only gain an instrumental supporter and adviser today but a valued relative, one who’s totally on my side. Ullah beye’ruff—God knows I don’t have many of those right now, and I need all I can get.” Chuckles were leashed this time, realizing this was no laughing matter even if he made light of it. His lips twisted in concession. “Which brings me to the most important issue at hand. You all now know how Sheikh Bassel and his family have been unjustly stripped of their name and status....”