The Sheik’s Expecting Bride by Erin Snihur

6

One month later...

Not again...

Hasna groans into the toilet bowl as another wave of nausea washes over her and her breakfast contents come spilling up her throat. Squeezing her eyes shut to keep her tears at bay, she coughs and leans her face against the cool porcelain as the vomiting ebbs.

When the door to her bathroom is pushed open abruptly without a customary knock, Hasna grimaces at the sound of Mahdi’s large boots stomping across the tile floors as his shadow looms over her crumpled form.

“What are you…” Hasna begins to ask, but Mahdi’s hands pulling her hair out of her face has Hasna ceasing her words.

“Your maid let me in. She said you were really sick and she couldn’t keep it a secret from anyone any longer.”

Grabbing a piece of toilet paper tightly in her hand, Hasna rubs it over her face and mouth before flushing it down the toilet. Pushing away from the bowl, she warily glances up at Mahdi with blurry eyes.

His look of concern is touching as he scans her from head to toe. Finally, he murmurs, “Shall I call for a doctor? Or perhaps we should go to the hospital?”

Shaking her head, Hasna groans again when her head throbs in warning. “It will pass. The nausea usually only lasts a few hours in the mornings.”

Silence envelops the two of them for a moment as Hasna attempts to catch her breath and stop the room from spinning. When Mahdi kneels down to her eye level with a look of seriousness replacing his worry, she bats his hands away from her hair.

“How long has this sickness been going on?”

Hasna moans softly when her stomach rolls again, but she manages to keep it calm with her evening breathing exercises. She shakes her head once more.

“Just a few weeks. It’s the flu, nothing serious.” Except your head and chest ache more every day, an annoyed part of her mind inwardly chimes in.

Crossing her arms across her aching chest, Hasna grimaces and runs a clammy hand through her mass of curly hair. “It’s nothing, Mahdi, I promise.”

“A flu doesn’t only come in the mornings, Hasna,” Mahdi suddenly growls and with his two large hands under her arms, lifts her to stand on her shaky legs. “I’ve had sisters and I’ve seen this before.”

“What?” she whispers breathlessly, ashamed that after only a few steps out of the bathroom that she is already out of breath and winded.

“Are you late?” Mahdi asks suddenly, startling Hasna out of focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Late?” Hasna mutters as Mahdi gently releases her to the comfort of her plush bed. When Mahdi pulls away, she is greeted by his beet red face and shifty eyes that will not meet hers.

“Are you late for your cycle, Hasna?” Mahdi asks slowly as he scans her pale face.

“My cycle…” she repeats with a whisper and then gasps. Hands reaching out to her flat stomach instinctively, Hasna stammers and groans, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening!”

When she struggles to stand, Mahdi stops her, forcing Hasna to plop back down on the bed. Forcing her back with his hands on her shoulders, Mahdi stares her down and simply states, “Calm yourself.”

“But I can’t be pregnant, Mahdi!” Hasna shrieks and then groans into her hands.

“You might not be, but we need to get you tested.”

Shaking her head with another nauseous groan, Hasna shivers and reaches out to grab Mahdi’s hand. Using him as a crutch to stand, she pleads, “You can’t say anything to Bandar. He’ll…”

Hasna isn’t able to finish her sentence. Her face leeches of color and she once more collapses onto the bed with a groan of frustration. “What am I going to do? This baby has no father and when Bandar finds out, he’s going to kill me.”

“You need to be tested first,” Mahdi growls and stands upright. “I have a doctor friend who can be discreet. Now, come. Tell your maid to field all of Bandar’s requests.”

Hasna snorts, “He’ll find out.”

“Not until you’re ready,” Mahdi murmurs and then rolls his eyes. “And shouldn’t you be more concerned about what Prince Nashat thinks?”

“Oh no,” Hasna groans and pinches her eyes shut. “He’s going to be so upset.”

“You don’t know that.”

But I do. Nashat is not the type to settle down with his pregnant one night stand and I am truly doomed.

* * *

“Your mysterious sourcedidn’t happen to mention that Nashat was visiting a construction site,” Hasna mutters under her breath as Mahdi pushes himself into the tall building currently being renovated only a few blocks from her uncle’s home.

After leaving the discreet doctor’s office with the shocking news that Hasna was indeed pregnant, Mahdi had insisted on taking her to speak with Nashat immediately. She had agreed, only because she dreaded going home to her uncle where the truth might be revealed.

“Hush,” Mahdi grumbles back as his eyes scan the first floor where men of all sizes and varying adult ages rush about carrying tools and lugging materials in wheelbarrows. “All my sources could tell me was that the sheik was visiting the new location for his charitable foundation.”

“The sheik?” Hasna shrieks with a whisper and stops dead center in the middle of what will probably be the lobby as she stares up in confusion at her friend and guard. “I’m not here to see the sheik, I’m here to see Nashat.”

“Nashat seems to be enjoying the palace life and hasn’t been spotted since the gala without his brother,” Mahdi explains with frustration leaching through his tone. “So, you find the sheik, you’ll probably find the prince.”

Rolling her eyes, Hasna mutters, “That’s like saying that if you find a pretty rock you’ll probably find gold.”

Fidgeting with her hands as she lowers her head in embarrassment as a few construction workers that pass their way shoot them glances of confusion, Hasna finally sighs and shoots Mahdi an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry, Mahdi, I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”

Mahdi shrugs. “I’ll just chalk that little outburst to hormones. Besides, the Sheik of Nilan is a good and fair man, perhaps he can help you tell Nashat the truth.”

Hasna flushes at the reminder of Sheik Kamran. She had known him since she was a young girl and even though he was only five years her senior, he had never acted superior around her. In fact, compared to Nashat, who, at times, had a tendency to forget she even existed when they were children, Kamran had gone out of his way to include her in their boyish mischief.

Perhaps you slept with the wrong royal, a snarky part of Hasna’s mind pipes up then. Shaking her mind of that ridiculous notion, she straightens her spine and glances around the semi-open lobby area as Mahdi questions a passerby about the sheik’s location.

Kamran would never be interested in a pauper princess with no lands or businesses to offer in return for her hand, Hasna inwardly argues back and thinks back to the many times that Kamran had shown her the softer side of his normally serious and pensive personality. Instinctively her hand drifts to her bracelet.

After her parents had been washed away by the flood waters and search parties began hunting for their bodies, Kamran and the Nilan army had been the ones to unearth their bodies in the wreckage. Hasna had been overwrought with grief and guilt. The only happiness she had felt that day had been when Kamran had appeared and took her hand, placing her mother’s charm bracelet in the center of her palm.

His exact words still haunt her to this day and sent a flurry of butterflies swarming her stomach every time they came across one another in person. I know it may seem like the darkness has closed in and will never let you see the light, but you must push it aside. You were made for the light, Hasna, and I pray I will see you shining in it again.

Eyes tearing up at the reminder of his words, Hasna jumps when, instead of just hearing his whispered words of comfort in her head, his physical voice reaches her ears.

“Hasna? What are you doing here?”

Spinning around, Hasna’s ears and heart begin thudding in unison as her mind tries to comprehend what she is hearing. That voice…

Eyes widening when her imagination delivers her Sheik Kamran in person, in all of his tall, hulking glory, Hasna opens and closes her mouth, unable to voice any of the thoughts running rampant through her mind. Behind him, a group of men in polo shirts holding clipboards and wearing hardhats scan her from head to toe with intrigue, probably assuming her to be some stalking fan or something. Hasna doesn’t care what they think. All her mind is focused on is Kamran.

The baby. His voice… Why is it so familiar? Why is my body warming at the mere presence of Nashat’s brother?

Flushing when he takes a step closer, his dark eyes and brow furrowing with concern, Hasna shakes herself and attempts to focus on something else. When her eyes connect with his strong, tan arms that are on display in his polo t-shirt, Hasna nearly faints right then and there.

Thankful when Mahdi appears at her side to rest his hand on her shoulder, Hasna whispers, “That tattoo…”

As her words settle over the silence of their little group, Kamran’s fists clench and he crosses his arms over his chest, hiding the al-Rafiq family crest from her eyes that is emblazoned on the inside of his forearm.

The same spot Nashat had apparently gotten a tattoo…

Shaking her head once more, Hasna forces her blurry gaze upwards to meet Kamran’s dark one. Instead of appearing stoic, his face has paled and guilt seems to seep out of his normally cold brown eyes.

Realization clicks into place in her mind and Hasna whispers once more, “No.”

“Hasna…” Kamran begins and sighs, turning slightly to motion to the man closest to him with a clipboard in his hand. “Have them continue the tour without me. I need to deal with this in private.”

Deal with this? As if that night was some sort of chore!Hasna inwardly seethes.

“Don’t bother,” Hasna growls, startling Kamran and probably everyone around them. “We’re done here.”

Stomping away with Mahdi following on her heels, protesting all the way, Hasna finally stops when they reach the town car parked along the sidewalk. Gasping in gulps of fresh air, Hasna bends over and leans against the hot metal of the vehicle to try and calm her beating heart and pounding head.

“What was that? I thought you agreed we needed to talk to the sheik in order to talk to Nashat?”

Shaking her head, Hasna groans and rises from her bent position. Glancing back at the building, she shivers as a wave of shame and guilt start creeping up on her as her stomach churns.

“I was wrong,” Hasna whispers. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“Don’t talk like that. Nashat will do the right thing.”

“It’s not that simple anymore.” When Hasna sees Kamran stalking from the building in her direction, angry with his fists clenched and his eyes filled with that same intense passion that was so familiar to her from her dreams and memories of that night, she shivers with anticipation.

Nothing will ever be the same.