The Sheikh's Surprise Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh 6)

“You are hormonal. I understand females must cry often because of this. Anna does not go a day without at least one fit of hysteria. Do not confuse Amir’s anger at his own weakness. It is not targeted at you. He merely does not wish for you to see him in an incapacitated state. Do you understand this, Julie?”

I nodded and chewed at my lip. “Yeah—I guess.”

Omar leaned back and steepled his fingers together.

“You are aware he loves you beyond all else?” This time I shrugged.

I know he likes to have sex with me a lot. I know he is poetic when he tells me how much he adores me. But lately, I haven’t felt loved.

I didn’t verbalize any of this to Omar, but he uncannily seems able to read my thoughts. With narrowed eyes he went on.

“I feel I can speak for Amir on this matter. We were not raised to focus on our females the way I believe you would like. We were both raised to lead nations and rule our people. The females were there as comfort and…” He leans forward and his voice lowers. “Release.”

I snort, “Yeah—got that!”

His grin is wise to my thoughts, “Amir is not the same man he was before you came into his life. You’ve shattered his foundation. You’ve unsettled him. Be patient with him. He will learn how to give you love in other than physical ways.”

I tilted my head at this last comment. How did he knew, or maybe he felt my discontent. “May I ask you a question?” I hesitantly asked.

“Of course. You are family. I am open with my family.”

“Amir and I rarely just talk. He professes his adoration—but it’s never emotional. He –um—well what you said—he shows me physically how he feels—but we don’t talk much.”

Omar picks his words. “Julie, be patient with him. He is from a generation not quite as modern as mine. Deep emotional conversations are not something the men of his time ever had with their wives. He is struggling with his own strength at the moment. He cannot be the male he feels he must be.”

“But shouldn’t that mean we talk more? He only seems infatuated with my stomach and with…” I made a sound of frustration and bit my lip.

“You can tell me. Spit it out.”

I blurt, “I don’t want to be his fuck toy.” Omar chuckled. “Sorry,” I offered.

He waved his hand, “I am un-offended by your language. I find it perfectly descriptive.”

He pulled something out of his desk drawer and pushed them across the shiny surface towards me. “These are from the accident.” I leaned forward and gaped at a half dozen pictures of an unrecognizable black sports car. It looked like a tin can after being stepped on.

“Amir is an expert driver. This car—the Bugatti—is a world class handling vehicle. It is also a heavy, well built, sturdy vessel. For him to have wrecked it to this extent tells me only one thing.”

Tears welled anew, and I sniffed, “He wanted to die.”

“Yes. Until he justifies all of this within himself, I fear he will be of no use to you as a communicator.”

Omar leaned across his desk, and I involuntarily pushed forward, acting as if he were telling me a secret.

“Julie, this relationship is very new. Your pregnancy holds far-reaching ramifications—extending far past your hormonal comprehension. The man has a lot on his plate. When you tell him you are staying—mean it! Stop the wavering despondent attitude and back him up. Be strong for him until he can be strong for himself.”

“But—but—I am doing that,” I whined.

Omar fell back in his chair. “No you’re not. You say one thing, but even I can see the clouds in your eyes. How must Amir feel?”

Omar stood and towered over me, “Julie, either put both feet in his camp, or leave. Be delighted you are carrying his child and rejoice in what you have together. Trust me, life is short, and hesitation can destroy the tentative connection you’ve both found.”

He left then. On his way past, he momentarily rested his broad hand on my shoulder. I was sobbing again, but he didn’t say anything else. A gentle squeeze and then he was gone. I had no idea how he understood what I’d been unable to process even within myself, let alone verbalize. I now knew why Anna had fallen so deeply for him. He was like a father, brother, confidant all in one—and to Anna, according to her—the reason for her radiance.

Help him, he’d said. How could I do that when I couldn’t even figure out myself?

***

Once I’d composed myself, I returned to our room. Amir was in bed, alone. His expression was apologetic. I went and pressed a finger to his lips when he tried to speak.