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‘What is it?’ Henry, beside her, turned to regard her curiously.
She shook her head, but the calendar on the counter wouldn’t be silenced. She scanned through the guests she’d hosted in the last month and a half, since Sariq had left, and her pulse quickened.
Yes, she’d definitely missed a cycle. Instinctively, her hand curved over her flat stomach as the reality of this situation hit home.
She couldn’t possibly be pregnant, though. They’d used protection. Every time? Yes, every time! Except that once, against the wall, but he hadn’t climaxed, he’d been so careful. Surely that wasn’t enough...
But there was no other explanation. Her cycle was as regular as clockwork; missing a period had to mean that somehow she’d conceived Sariq’s baby.
She groaned, spinning away from Henry, uncertainty making it impossible to know what to say or do. First of all she needed proper confirmation.
‘Do you mind if I clock out? I just remembered something.’
‘Not at all. Make the most of the quiet days, I say.’
She bit down on her lip, grabbing her handbag. ‘Thanks, Henry.’
There was a drugstore just down the block, but she walked past it, taking the subway across town instead. It was safer here, away from the possibility of bumping into anyone from the hotel. She bought three pregnancy tests, each from a different manufacturer, knowing that it was overkill and not caring, and a huge bottle of water, which she drank in one sitting. Once back at her small apartment in the basement of the hotel, she pulled a test from its packaging, taking it into the bathroom and following the instructions to the letter.
It took almost no time for two blue lines to appear on the test patch.
She swore under her breath, staring at the lines, a hardness filling out her heart.
What the heck could she do? Sariq had left America six weeks earlier. She hadn’t heard from him and she had no expectation she would. He’d made it very clear that he needed to marry one of the women who would promise a greater hope of lasting peace for his people. He would make a match of duty, of national importance, and he’d need to have a legitimate heir with whomever he chose.
This baby would be a disaster for him, and, by extension, for his people. What if the sheer fact that she was pregnant somehow led to an all-out war in his country?
Nausea rose inside her. She cupped her hands over the toilet bowl, bending forward and losing all the water she’d hastily consumed. Her brow was covered in perspiration. She pressed her head to the ceramic tiles of the wall and counted to ten, telling herself it wasn’t that bad, that things would work out. She could raise a child on her own. No one ever needed to know.
Daisy re-read the email for the hundredth time before sending it.
Sariq, I’ve reconsidered. Tuition for the Juilliard is in the attachment. Anything you can do to help...
There was nothing in there that could possibly give away the truth of her situation. No way would he be able to int
uit from the few brief lines that there had been an unexpected consequence of their brief, passionate affair.
And that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To do this on her own? She bit down on her lip, her eyes scanning her phone screen, panic lifting through her. Because in all honesty, she couldn’t have said what she wanted. Their baby, yes, absolutely. Already, she loved the little human growing inside her.
She’d begun to feel the tiniest movements, like little bubbles popping in her belly, and she’d known it was her son or daughter swimming around, finding their feet and getting stronger every day.
Time was passing too quickly. In only five months she’d have to stop working, and then what? Panic made her act. She needed help and Sariq had willingly offered it. Lying to him wasn’t exactly comfortable for Daisy but she had to make her peace with that. Sariq had explained what he needed most—a wife and a legitimate heir to inherit his throne.
He’d be grateful to Daisy for this, in the long run, surely.
She read the email once more, her finger hovering over the ‘send’ arrow. She’d tried everything else she could think of. Thanks to her ex, her credit rating had tanked. She couldn’t get a loan, and, even if she could, what in the world would she pay it back with?
For their child, she would do anything, even offer a tiny white lie, via email, to the man she’d had two passionate nights with months earlier. The end justified the means. The email made a whooshing sound as she finally sent it, but Daisy didn’t hear it over the thunderous tsunami of her blood.
He stared at the email with an expression that was impossible to decipher. Three and a half months after leaving New York he had begun to think he would never hear from her again.
He re-read the email and a smile lifted his face. He had prayed she would come to her senses, but instinctively known not to push it. It wasn’t his place to run her life. Daisy had to decide what she wanted. He wished he could give her more. He wished he could see her again. But knowing he could give her this small gift was enough.
Except it wasn’t.
He awoke the next morning with a yearning deep in his soul and he had every intention of indulging it.
Malik was, naturally, against another trip to America.
