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“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Considering who the father of your child is, I’m not surprised.” The older woman reached out and squeezed Angele’s shoulder comfortingly. “It isn’t every day a woman finds herself making a family with an honest-to-goodness future king.”
“I’m very honored.” And she was, but overwhelmed was a word that fit as well.
“I’m sure you are, but you’re also tired. And that’s not good for you or baby.”
“I had a nap earlier.”
“You’ve still got a full set of luggage under those eyes,” the doctor unapologetically pronounced.
Angele frowned at Zahir. “Why didn’t you tell me I looked like a fright?”
“You do not look a fright, but I do recall telling you that you did not look rested.”
Oh, right. “So, bags, huh?” she asked the doctor with a wince.
“Steamer trunks.”
She gave a short laugh and sighed. “In the arm or the bum?”
“Let’s go into the other room.”
A stick in the bum then.
For the first time in weeks, Angele woke up feeling pretty good. No flulike symptoms, no urgent need to rush to the bathroom and throw up. She was still a little tired, but Angele would take that feeling over extreme nausea any day.
The bed beside her was empty. However, the rumpled pillow on the other side gave testament to the fact she hadn’t spent the night alone.
Considering her ambivalent feelings toward their upcoming marriage, she should not enjoy that knowledge so much. But she did. Even though they had not woken together, knowing she and Zahir had spent the night in the same bed felt right.
Too right.
She’d been deluding herself to think she could really walk away from Zahir if he was determined to marry her. The baby made giving in easier, but the truth was, he would have eventually worn down her resistance. Because he had made it clear, he’d had no intention of giving up the future they planned together.
She just hoped neither of them would learn to regret that stubbornness.
Angele followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen and found Zahir and a dapperly dressed elderly gentleman with kind eyes sitting at the small table.
Both men rose as she came in.
Feeling better than she had in days, even with the smell of coffee and freshly cooked bacon in the air, she smiled. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
Zahir introduced the older man as Dr. bin Habib, the physician to the royal family of Zohra.
“My O.B. was just here last night.” She looked at Zahir. “How many doctors do I need?”
“Technically Dr. bin Habib is acting on behalf of the baby at this point. Though he will coordinate care with your obstetrician both here and when we return to Zohra.”
“Please tell me you haven’t tried to strong-arm Dr. Shirley into traveling to Zohra with me. I’m not her only patient.”
“I have made no attempt to strong arm the honorable doctor.”
There was something in his tone that made Angele look at Zahir askance.
The Crown Sheikh shrugged, doing a pretty poor job at casual regardless. “If I perhaps offered her a very persuasive remuneration package for doing so, that cannot be considered an attempt at coercion.”
“Zahir!”
