CHAPTER EIGHT
“PERHAPS I SHOULD get Abdullah-Hasiba,” Yusuf said.
Liyah spun toward him. “No. You won’t tell her. This is my business.”
Her business. No one else’s. She was alone now.
On one level, Liyah realized that she was flying apart, but she could do nothing to stop it. Her ability to repress her feelings and put on a cool front had deserted her completely.
After a wary glance at her, Yusuf looked toward Sayed for direction.
His emir ignored him, moving forward so Liyah had no choice but to back up until he had her pressed against the wall. She should have felt trapped, but her rampaging heart started to calm, her breathing slowing down to match his even inhalations.
He filled her vision and dominated her other senses, leaving no room for anything else, including her escalating panic.
Cupping her cheeks, Sayed waited until Liyah met his gaze and held it. “Listen to me, ya ghaliyah ghazal. If you carry my child, we will face this together. You are not alone.”
If only that were true. He could call her his precious gazelle, but she wasn’t his. She wasn’t precious to him.
No matter how beautiful he found her, women who didn’t come from money or royalty, women like Liyah, who worked for a living, didn’t exist for him in his world.
She almost laughed with gallows humor. “You don’t even think I’m good enough for an affair. You aren’t going to raise a child with me.”
And why were they even talking like this. She wasn’t pregnant. She couldn’t be.
“I told you, the differences in our lives are just that. Not levels of superiority.”
“Right. Mrs. Palace Aid, remember that?”
He huffed out a sound that was almost a laugh. “I believe that, after her betrayal, I am allowed a measure of leeway.”
“I suppose.”
“Just promise me this. We will take each day as it comes...together.”
How could she promise that? How could she trust it?
“Promise me, habibti.”
“You called me that on purpose.”
“Everything I do is on purpose.”
“Not taking my virginity, it wasn’t.”
Instead of renewing his anger with the reminder, it made him laugh. “No, perhaps not, but taking you to my bed was.”
“You were drunk.”
“No, I was not.”
“Oh.”
“Were you too inebriated to know what you were doing?” he asked. “Tell me the truth.”
“No. I told you.”
“Then we will both accept the consequences of choices we knowingly made.”
She nodded.
“Together.”
“For now.”
“As long as your pregnancy is a possibility.”
She tried to read his eyes, but could see nothing beyond sincerity and determination that might give her stubbornness a run for its money. “Okay.”
He smiled. “Good. That is a beginning.”
Yusuf cleared his throat. “We need to consider procurement of the morning-after pill.”
Sayed turned so he stood between Liyah and the bodyguard, his back to her. “What are you talking about?”
“Emergency birth control.”
“No.”
“It’s not—”
“An option,” Sayed insisted, interrupting his bodyguard.
“It might be,” Liyah offered, remembering an article she’d read about the different types of after-the-fact birth control. “If it’s the one that doesn’t get rid of pregnancy, only prevent it.”
“How is it possible you know this and yet are so uncomfortable talking about sex?” Sayed asked, turning to face her again, his expression searching.
She rolled her eyes. “I read.” One of her secret vices was a long-standing subscription to a popular women’s magazine. “I’m inexperienced, not ignorant.”
“Tell me about this pill.”
“Well, there’s more than one, but I think...hope...the one Yusuf is talking about is safe. You know, if I’m pregnant already, it won’t hurt the baby. Or me.” She wanted to keep denying the possibility she was pregnant.
And truly, she couldn’t believe she was, but she wasn’t an ostrich. She wouldn’t be burying her head in the sand in the face of a potential reality.
No matter how much she might want to.
Sayed nodded acknowledgment. “It cannot be one hundred percent effective.”
“Not absolutely, no.”
“So, our immediate plans must be the same regardless.”
“You are right, of course,” Yusuf answered. “I will begin making arrangements.”
“I’ll have to talk to the local clinic about getting the pill.”
“No,” Sayed and Yusuf said in unison.
“What? Why not?” How else were they going to get it?
“Too risky,” Yusuf said baldly.
“In what way?” she asked, again feeling like she was missing something.
Sayed grimaced. “We cannot afford for word of this situation to leak to the press, particularly in the wake of the scandal Tahira’s defection has caused.”
Liyah wanted to protest at being labeled a situation, but understood Sayed’s viewpoint. He was already facing major public scandal; she had no desire to add to it.
“Stealth mode. I’ve got it.”
Sayed sighed. “If destiny has ordained you carry my child, then we will do our best to face that fate with courage and honor, but we will proceed with caution in the interim.”
“You make it sound like we’re going to war.”
He smiled and shook his head, dropping his hands. “Life is a war of choices, Aaliyah. Last night, neither of us made the best ones, but that does not mean we rush headlong into rash decisions this morning.”
She missed the touch of his hands, but told herself not to be a fool. “We look at our options and take responsibility.”
Something Liyah believed in very strongly and couldn’t help being glad he did, too.
Sayed was no Gene Chatsfield.
“Exactly.” Sayed’s tone was laced with satisfied approval, his gaze almost warm before he turned very serious. “However, some responsibilities carry greater weight than others.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to return to Zeena Sahra. Tahira’s actions will have long-reaching consequences for our country.”
Feeling unaccountably bereft at the thought of his abandonment, Liyah nevertheless nodded. “I understand.”
“Good. It is unfortunate you will not be able to work out your notice, but it is fortuitous that you already made your plans to leave.”
“What? Why won’t I work out my notice?”
“I’ve told you, we must leave for Zeena Sahra immediately.”
“You said you had to leave.”
He gave her a look that said she wasn’t following him. “Naturally you must come with me.”
“Why?”
“You may carry my child.”
“But we don’t know.”
“And until we do, you will be under my protection and care.”
“But—”
“Come, do not tell me you would not love to visit the country of your mother’s birth.”
“I would, very much, but under different circumstances than these.”
He shrugged. “We make of our circumstances what we wish them to be.”
“Remember that when you’re dealing with the fallout from Tahira’s elopement.” Liyah felt bad as soon as she said the words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of what you’re going through.”
“Apology accepted. Now, let us prepare for our trip.”
“I didn’t say I was going.”
“But you will.” He smiled winningly. “What better guide to introduce you to the magic that is Zeena Sahra than its emir?”
“I don’t remember you being this persuasive last night.” Bossy, yes, persuasive, no.
“It is another facet of my character for you to come to know.”
* * *
As the jet taxied down the runway, Liyah marveled at how efficiently Sayed’s people worked.
It was easier than thinking about why she was on this plane.
In the time it took Liyah to explain to the head housekeeper that an unavoidable circumstance had arisen which required Liyah to leave London immediately, they had packed her bedsit, paid off the lease and delivered her things to Sayed’s jet.
She hadn’t brought much more than clothes with her from the States to begin with, but still.
All this effort and near-frightening efficiency on behalf of the possibility she carried Sayed’s baby.
Thankfully, her boss had been a lot more understanding than Liyah had expected. The head housekeeper had told Liyah that with her work ethic, the older woman knew her lead chambermaid would not be leaving if any other choice was open to her.
“My counterpart in San Francisco as well as your former employers had nothing but good things to say about you, Miss Amari.”
The unprecedented warmth and affirmation from the usually no-nonsense woman had been a balm to Liyah’s battered pride after her father’s attack on her integrity the day before.
And it had made Liyah feel guilty because she wasn’t telling the whole truth and her only reason for having to leave was the results of her own poor judgment.
It was a smooth takeoff and it hardly seemed as if any time had passed at all before the pilot announced they’d gained sufficient stability and altitude to move about the cabin and turn on small electronic devices.
“I wasn’t expecting that on a private plane,” she said to Sayed, who sat beside her.
“Air safety regulations must be maintained.” The answer did not come from Sayed, but Yusuf, who now stood in the aisle beside their seats.
He and the rest of the security team were sitting toward the front of the plane. Two on either side of a table they’d been using to play cards on since the door had been closed for takeoff.
Other than the cabin attendant, there was no one else on the spacious private jet. Clearly, Sayed was taking pains to keep her presence on the plane under wraps.
She should have felt like his dirty secret, but his attitude toward her was too respectful. And as she’d told him earlier, she understood the need for stealth mode.
For now.
She wasn’t Hena Amari; Liyah wasn’t about to fade into the background to save the man she’d had sex with from facing up to his responsibilities.
Sayed, who had taken the seat beside her rather than sitting opposite, had papers spread on the table.
They looked like printouts of news articles. Since most of them had pictures of Tahira and a rather ordinary-looking man, Liyah assumed they were the media’s response to the elopement.
The man in the pictures with the Middle Eastern beauty did not appear near middle age, but his hair was clearly already thinning. Though there were stress lines around his eyes, they still appeared kind.
And Liyah thought she might understand how a woman could trust her life to this man over one who had never shown the slightest physical interest in her despite their engagement.
Because for all Tahira’s beauty, she looked extremely young and even more innocent than Liyah had been before last night.
Sayed noticed her interest in the articles and waved at them. “My former fiancée with her palace aid.”
“You’re going to have to stop putting that rather obvious emphasis on his job title if you don’t want the media to label you an elitist.”
Sayed frowned, but Yusuf said, “Miss Amari is right.”
“You are not my public relations specialist,” the emir reminded his bodyguard.
Yusuf didn’t bother to answer, but held out a single pill blister pack. “As we discussed.”
Sayed took it. “Thank you.”
Yusuf nodded before returning to his seat.
Liyah did not watch him go; her focus was stuck on the silver packet in Sayed’s hand.
“How effective is it?” she asked, her memory not very clear on that point.
“Dr. Batsmani said it is considered between eighty and ninety-five percent.”
“Then why am I on this plane? Why didn’t I just take it back in London and be done with it?”
“Five to twenty percent are hardly impossible odds.” Sayed called the cabin attendant over for water with a wave of his hand.
When it arrived, Liyah opened the blister pack with inexplicable reluctance. Her head knew this was absolutely the right thing to do. She hadn’t planned on motherhood at this point in her life, if ever.
If she were pregnant, Liyah would do her best, just as Hena Amari had done. That didn’t mean she craved the opportunity to raise a child alone.
Although, according to Sayed, that was not one of the options she had to worry about.
Some little part of her heart disagreed with her head, telling her to forget the pill. Hadn’t she wondered what kind of sane woman could let a man like Sayed go?
But no woman with honor would want to have him because he was trapped.
Besides, last night had been the first time she’d ever allowed her emotions to rule. And the aftermath had not been a resounding success.
“It has no effectiveness sitting in your hand,” he teased.
She leaned toward him. “Shh...”
“It’s just a pill. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“You know what it’s for,” she whispered.
Humor, rather than the seriousness she would have expected, warmed his dark eyes. “Yes, indeed. I do know.”
“I don’t understand how you’re so cavalier about...” She paused, looking for a word that wouldn’t practically burn her mouth to say.
“Sex?” he asked, striving for innocent, but too amused to be anywhere close.
She glared at him. “You’re from Zeena Sahra. You went without for three years. You should understand repressed.”
“Suppressed, maybe. It’s not the same. I am not ashamed to share a common physical need with an entire planet of people.”
“It’s different for you, you’re a man.”
“Do you think so?”
“Mom was pretty adamant that women had to remain chaste until marriage.”
“And yet you decided not to.”
“I doubt I’ll ever marry,” she admitted. “I’m too shy with men.”
“Really?” He didn’t sound doubtful, so she didn’t take offense at his question.
“Most men. The combination of alcohol and you is a lethal combination.”
“I would like to think the alcohol was unnecessary.”
“It probably would be in future,” she admitted with the honesty she seemed unable to suppress around him. “But last night? It definitely played its role.”
“And yet you insist you were in control of your faculties when you chose to make love with me.”
“I was, just not chained down by my usual inhibitions and introversion around men.”
“You will be less nervous with the opposite sex in the future, I am sure.” He didn’t sound exactly pleased by that prospect.
“It didn’t work that way for my mom.”
“She had you.”
“And a family who rejected her. I have no one left to reject me.”
“That’s a rather morbid thought.”
“Sorry.”
“I will reject you if it will make you feel better.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” But she felt a small smile curving her lips.
She liked bantering with him.
Which scared her probably more than it should.
Determined to lead with her head, not her heart, she took a deep breath, tossed back the pill and swallowed it down with water.