Pregnant by the Sheikh Read online

  And he would have if not for Rafael Salazar, his youngest brother. Richard had been Rafael’s handler, and Rafael had formed an unbreakable bond with him, considered him his mentor, his older brother, even. When Richard had left The Organization and caught up with them by tracing Rafael, Numair and the rest had unanimously decided to eliminate him. They’d considered him the enemy, and a lethal threat to their new identities. Exposure as the agents who’d escaped The Organization would have meant their certain deaths. Or at least being forced to relinquish the identities they’d gone to so much trouble to create.

  It had been a simple equation. Richard or them.

  But Rafael had put himself between them, insisted he trusted Richard with his life and theirs, that if they got rid of Richard, they had to get rid of him, too.

  Rafael’s adamant position had forced them to trust his judgment as they always had, and to back down. Not that Richard had made that easy. He’d taunted them, warning them that in a confrontation between all of them and only him, they would be the ones in danger.

  Rafael seemed to have called it right, since Richard hadn’t exposed them. But Numair suspected it had only been because Richard considered Rafael his younger brother, had killed and would die for him and wouldn’t risk him being taken down with them. Numair had wanted nothing more to do with that bastard. But he’d soon found himself forced to collaborate with him in building Black Castle Enterprises.

  Being pragmatic, he’d known only Richard had the knowledge, skills and power he needed to construct something impregnable. His own field was military intelligence, espionage and counterterrorism, putting him in position to deal with the huge political and criminal issues that faced a corporation of their size and reach. But Richard was the one who was an incomparable security specialist, who dealt with the everyday dangers, the security issues in the real and cyber worlds that could bring any business down.

  So they’d become, for all intents and purposes, partners. Not that this had changed their personal position. They would always remain antagonists.

  Richard’s lips twisted as he returned his antipathy, just with his usual sarcasm. “I should have known you came from such a land, where vendettas are inherited and cherished as the source of honor and glory. You can’t help what you are, it seems. It’s in your genes.”

  Usually, he engaged Richard in the rituals of their ongoing cold war. But Numair couldn’t afford to do that now. Not when that damned snake had something he needed.

  Knowing that, and determined to make the most of Numair’s inability to react as he wished to, Richard smiled like the serpent he was.

  Pushing the jacket of his handmade sand-colored suit out of the way, he shoved one hand into his pants’ pocket, with the other one still holding the briefcase he was here to deliver. Without attempting to give it to him, he looked around like someone assessing a pawned property he’d come to acquire in lieu of an unpaid debt.

  “So I see you installed yourself in a setting appropriate to your future lofty status, until you take over Saraya’s royal palace.” Richard gave him a baiting glance, one of the staple methods of interaction between them. “You even acquired yourself a local princess.”

  Numair bristled but forced himself not to flay Richard alive. He wanted that briefcase with a minimum of fuss.

  Obviously, Richard had other plans, as his goading intensified. “At first I thought you were stringing her along to spoil Hassan’s marriage plans. I thought you’d asked me for help with the release of Zafrana’s financial assets to deprive him of his power over Zafrana, to contribute to crippling him before you struck him down. But then you continued carrying on with her, and I realized your actions have all been directed to making her and her father indebted to you, and dependent on you. You don’t only want Saraya’s throne, you want Zafrana’s, too. And she’s your ticket to it.”

  This made Numair relinquish any thoughts of restraint.

  He grabbed Richard’s arm with a force that had broken lesser men’s arms. “Keep your realizations and theories to yourself, Cobra, and don’t even think of Jenan again.”

  Richard’s eyes widened, with surprise not pain, the caustic derision disappearing from his expression, contemplative scrutiny descending in its place.

  Then he grimaced. “By God, not you, too, Phantom.”

  Numair knew exactly what Richard meant. Two of Numair’s brothers had already succumbed to what they’d all previously considered an ailment none of them was susceptible to. Love. Rafael had married the daughter of the man he’d thought had sold him to The Organization, and Raiden had married the woman who’d once been sent by his former handler to expose him.

  But if there was anyone they’d all thought was 100 percent impervious to any emotions, let alone love, it was Numair. And his current companion, of course.

  Richard said exactly that. “Besides me, you’re the literal last man on earth I expected to fall in love.”

  If Richard expected him to deny it, to consider it a weakness he wouldn’t admit to anyone, most of all to his lifelong nemesis, he had another think coming. The moment he could, he’d shout it from the rooftops if need be. He’d made his peace with the life-changing realization.

  He had fallen in love with Jenan.

  But even that statement wasn’t accurate. He’d far more than fallen in love with her. He felt as if she’d become an extension of his being, the most vital part that he’d perish without. Dependence on someone else had been unimaginable before; absolute self-sufficiency had been the basic fact on which he’d built his whole life. Even the brothers, who were integral to his life and self, he’d depended on for survival and practical matters, never emotionally. He’d never felt he’d die if he lost them. He felt that about her, and more. He could live only with her.

  This profound dependence had started from their first meeting. Right then his fundamental being had recognized hers as the only one to mesh with it, to complete his missing parts. The feeling had taken root during the night he’d first claimed her, as she’d claimed him right back. Every day since, those roots had been growing deeper, becoming entangled, encompassing everything inside him.

  Their intimacy, in and out of bed, had been growing exponentially, and she’d been totally open about what he made her feel. But she hadn’t made a straight declaration of her love. He hadn’t, either, but he had been calling her “my love” and “my heart” and “my soul” and meaning every word. She hadn’t reciprocated.

  But just before Richard arrived, something terrible had occurred to him. He couldn’t believe it hadn’t before. Being with her did tamper with his every mental function.

  He’d realized he should hope she wouldn’t declare her love. Not yet. Not before he settled his mission, and could tell her the whole truth...

  “Seriously?” Richard’s scoff yanked him out of his oppressive musings. “You’re going to be one of those men who zones out when they even picture their beloved?”

  He forced his focus back on Richard. “I said Jenan is off-limits. To discussion. To speculation. To thoughts.”

  “Thoughts, eh? You have a way of enforcing that ban?”

  “If you value your family jewels, you’ll shut up, give me that briefcase and get the hell out of here.”

  “Leave?” Richard feigned a shocked face. “Without taking a tour of this Arabian Nights reproduction?”

  “I can take the briefcase from your dead body, Cobra.”

  Richard laughed, true amusement in the lethal rumble. “I’ll die another day, thank you, Phantom.” He swung the briefcase up, hugged it to his chest, provocation set on maximum. “I flew fifteen hours straight to come here. Doesn’t this warrant that you offer me a drink, at least?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Now give me the damned documents.”

  “Just like that? I get nothing in return.”

 
“You do. I owe you one. Collect it anytime.”

  “I’ll collect it right now. I want that drink.”

  Numair seethed with frustration. He could always beat Richard to a pulp. Problem was, Richard would inflict as much damage on him. They were each other’s match. And he couldn’t have Jenan arriving to find him torn and bloody. His scars continued to hurt her, and he couldn’t bear disturbing her anymore if he could help it. Which meant he couldn’t vent his aggression. Ever again.

  As he was about to take that insufferable creature to force-feed him that drink, Richard added, “And I want to meet that mythical being who brought you to your knees.”

  Numair rounded on him, snarling, “You can ask for anything of equal value to what you’re giving me. Anything involving Jenan is invaluable, and will never be an option, for you or anyone else. But now you’ve dared to ask that, I wouldn’t offer you a sip of water if you were dying of thirst, so you might as well give up and go the hell away.”

  Richard transferred the briefcase behind his back. “You know I never give up. And I’m going nowhere. So what will you do? Kill me like you’ve wanted to for the past twenty-five years?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get rid of you.”

  Richard’s devil eyes flared with challenge, and Numair’s body bunched in preparation for that climactic fight he’d been burning for since he’d been fifteen. But a deep sound doused his aggression.

  The helicopter bringing Jenan to him.

  As he relinquished his confrontation with Richard and rushed down the stairs to the helipad, Richard huffed a laugh.

  “Saved by the copter.” Numair turned his fed-up gaze to him, and Richard wiggled an eyebrow. “You were.”

  He stopped where he always waited for her, watching the helicopter landing, and Richard appeared beside him.

  “I expect this is your beloved. What opportune timing. I’ll get to meet her after all.”

  Suspicion exploded inside Numair’s mind. “You timed your arrival so you’d intercept her.”

  Richard’s eyebrows shot up in what looked like genuine incredulity. “Bloody hell, Phantom, you’re in a far worse condition than I thought. How would I have known when she comes to visit? Or if she comes at fixed times at all?”

  “You know anything you want to know.”

  “True. But that’s only if I wanted to know. And a few minutes ago I didn’t even realize that woman’s significance to you. Why would I have tried to intercept her?”

  That made sense to Numair. It was possible he was just being paranoid.

  But he’d learned it always paid to be that and more. And with someone like Richard, nothing was ever at face value. Richard might have long realized his true feelings toward Jenan and was here to do some kind of mischief. He couldn’t afford that. He had enough worries where she was concerned. He couldn’t add a whiff of trouble to them. And Richard was trouble in its most concentrated form.

  He grabbed Richard by his lapels, hauled him closer until their noses almost touched. “Listen, Cobra, if you think I was ever your enemy, it’s nothing to what I’ll be if you step a millimeter out of line. I’m indebted to you for acquiring the original signed documents releasing the last of Zafrana’s stocks and bonds, but you’re here only because you insisted they were too crucial to be entrusted to a messenger. I should have known you didn’t come because you cared about the documents or my plans.”

  “No? If I don’t care, why did I even help you in the first place? I could have just told you to sod off.”

  “Are you telling me you care now? If I live or die? This is you and me, Cobra, remember?”

  Richard gave a gruff exhalation. “As if you ever let me forget. But I also remember we were once best friends.”

  “Yes, until you reported that I was planning to escape so you could gain your superiors’ favor. My body still bears the scars of the sixty days straight they tortured me within an inch of my life in punishment.”

  There. He’d gotten it out in the open at last.

  Richard stared at him for a long, charged moment. Then he exhaled. “Did you ever wonder why I did it?”

  “No. Because I already knew why. You were a monster by choice and preference, Cobra. You still are.”

  After holding his eyes for another moment with an inexplicable expression filling his own, Richard finally shrugged. “As are you. Or at least, as you were, until Princess Aal Ghamdi.”

  Numair looked back as the helicopter landed, seething with urgency. “Don’t think my feelings for her tame me, Cobra. A predator with a mate is even more deadly.”

  “But more vulnerable.”

  Before he could snarl a response, the copter’s door was flung open and Jenan jumped out, hitting the ground running as usual. Forgetting Richard within a heartbeat, he swung around and rushed to meet her halfway.

  Watching her run to him was, as always, an agonizing joy. Her hair caught the declining rays of the sun and reflected it into tones of fire and ruby. Her eyes rivaled its golden heat. Her smile was everything he lived to see anymore, her body everything he lived to feel and her whole being everything that embodied his reasons for existence.

  Suddenly her expression sobered, and her steps faltered. Something sharp stabbed him in the gut at the loss of her eagerness, even when he realized it was on account of Richard’s presence. She’d only just noticed that hulk. And it doused her spontaneity. Another thing for which to wish Richard an eternity in the deepest abyss.

  As he covered the remaining distance and took her in his arms, Jenan asked, “Who is that?”

  He gritted his teeth over the expletives on the tip of his tongue. “Richard Graves. My associate.”

  “Not one of your Black Castle brothers, is he?”

  Numair’s heart fired. Every time she mentioned his brothers or made a comment that correctly diagnosed a truth he hid, the need to tell her everything almost overpowered him. With those uncanny instincts of hers, she’d realized there was far more to him than what he’d made known.

  But she accepted the darkest parts she knew of his manufactured history without reservations, with even admiration for what he’d become. It made him hope that when he was able to divulge the whole truth, it wouldn’t shock her, wouldn’t alienate her.

  He now only said, “No, he’s not.”

  “I thought Black Castle was exclusively a partnership between you and those men you consider brothers.”

  “Richard, regretfully, is the exception.”

  “Regretfully, huh?” She suddenly chuckled. “And he’s still in one piece and living and unavoidably in your life, too? He is certainly a man worth meeting. Introduce me?”

  Grinding his teeth again, he knew he had to comply. At least he’d made Richard realize he would kill him this time if he messed this up with Jenan. He hoped, for her sake, that Richard behaved. He’d rather not kill him in front of her.

  Entwining her arm with his, he took her to meet Richard.

  * * *

  Deep into the night, Numair woke up with a start.

  He subsided when he felt Jenan draped over him, every inch of her warm, firm, precious flesh plastered to his.

  They’d made love for hours after Richard left. To his shock, Richard had behaved with perfect gallantry in Jenan’s presence. And Jenan had been her usual spontaneous self with him. Numair, however, still wanted to kill him. He clearly had serious insecurity issues, even when he knew he had no reason to.

  But he did have a reason, he corrected himself. A huge one. And it had nothing to do with jealousy.

  During the past weeks, while everything had fallen into place according to his methodical plans, with him releasing Jenan from Hassan, then forcing him to relinquish Zafrana’s debts one at a time, with the last ones being what Richard had brought him today, he’d kept realizing
that nothing was going as he’d envisioned.

  The cousins he’d come here intending to engage in a vicious fight were nothing he’d thought they were. They were all admirable men and women. Even worse, he liked Najeeb more every time he saw him. His plan to wrest the throne from him after condemning his father for a murderer and destroying his family honor no longer seemed feasible. For how could he deal with Najeeb with as much cold blood as he’d always dealt with adversaries when he no longer considered him one?

  But that was only his secondary worry. His main one was focused on Jenan. The foreboding that had been building inside him had crystallized during Richard’s visit.

  At first, he hadn’t thought a day would come when he’d regret not being honest about why he’d wanted an heir.

  But if he put the rest of his plan into action, she’d realize his early purpose. He had no doubt the totally honest woman that she was, who’d accepted his declared reasons in good faith, would feel betrayed and used. Now he didn’t know how to rectify his initial mistake.

  His only hope was that she wasn’t already pregnant.

  Which was probably too much to hope for after their weeks of unprotected lovemaking.

  But she must have been checking regularly, and if she’d said nothing, it was possible she wasn’t yet pregnant. If she wasn’t, he didn’t want her to get pregnant anymore. He didn’t want a child to complicate matters between them more than they already were, to make her more prone to being vulnerable and inconsolable when the truth came out.

  But he wouldn’t know where to go from here until he asked her, knew for certain if she was or wasn’t pregnant.

  Coming to that conclusion, he closed his eyes again and did something he’d never done before.

  He prayed. To whatever was out there and might listen. He prayed that she wasn’t pregnant, that he’d be granted a second chance to make this right.

  * * *

  Jen watched Numair prowling toward her in the mirror as she brushed her hair in long, leisurely strokes, imagining herself stroking his magnificent body.