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Surprised to hear it, she glanced at Zaid.
‘Dr Aziz has been my personal doctor since I was a boy. He left Ja’ahr with me and I brought him back from the States when I returned. I trust him implicitly.’ Simple words, but delivered with a thread of emotion that spoke of a bond between the two men.
The doctor cracked a smile as he opened his case. ‘He means he trusts me not to tell you he’s not as invincible as he likes everyone to think.’
His easy charm drew a smile from her. And a deep scowl from Zaid. ‘Perhaps you would like to get on with seeing to your patient?’
‘I’m fine, really—’
‘She’s pregnant.’ Zaid calmly dropped the bombshell.
Dr Aziz hid his shock well as he looked from her to Zaid. ‘This is great news, son. Congratulations.’
‘Offer felicitations after examining her, Joseph,’ Zaid clipped out.
The other man nodded. ‘How far along are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m...um...we just did the tests,’ Esme said.
‘The relevant date you require is ten days ago,’ Zaid added, naming the exact date.
Joseph Aziz frowned. ‘It’s too soon to be feeling faint.’
‘Stop stating the obvious and fix her.’
‘Zaid!’
The doctor smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m used to it. He gets cranky when he’s worried.’
Zaid swung away, muttering under his breath. Joseph carried on unperturbed, asking her questions and taking notes on his tablet. He frowned again as she guiltily confessed to her recent loss of appetite. Five minutes later, he snapped his case shut.
‘Well?’ Zaid had returned, looming over them like a dark cloud.
‘Nothing serious. Miss Scott is a little low on blood sugar. I’m guessing that, coupled with the momentous news that she’s carrying our next Sultan, would throw anyone. She just needs to avoid skipping meals, and she’ll be fine.’ He offered her a reassuring smile, while Zaid stared at her with narrowed eyes as she finally sat up.
‘I told you I was fine.’
‘You and I have different definitions of fine, habiba, especially when you’re not eating,’ he rasped, before turning to Joseph. They exchanged a few words in Arabic before the doctor departed. And Fawzi re-entered moments later.
‘Your Highness, your conference call is about to begin.’
Zaid nodded curtly and his assistant moved to a respectful but expectant distance. Her heart dipped.
‘Zaid, we need to talk,’ she murmured.
He faced her. ‘You’re carrying my child, Esmeralda,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘Nothing you have to say will shift the importance of that fact and our need to focus on it and it alone. From the moment you walked out of the bathroom, your arguments have become null and void.’
Her insides trembled as she shook her head. ‘But you don’t know—’
‘Don’t I? You’re about to confess a less than stellar past association with your father.’ He barely blinked as she gasped. ‘But you forget that I know the sort of man he is. He’s a gifted con artist in whose web you were caught at a vulnerable age.’
‘There’s more, Zaid,’ she insisted.
He stepped close, clasped her shoulders. ‘There’s always more. But what matters is that you wised up and walked away eventually. The estrangement was your doing, was it not?’ he pressed.
Lips pursed, she nodded. ‘Yes.’
A hint of a genuine smile cracked his lips, before his face grew serious again. ‘So you turned your life around. I don’t need any more proof that my decision is sound.’
