The Sheikh’s Pregnant Nanny: Sheikhs of Hamari Book Three Read online

  “You’ve kept it very simple,” she admitted.

  “My mother wanted me to decorate before she died.” He sighed. “To join the family, as she called it. It never happened.”

  Nina perked up. “I can help with that.” He worked his hand around to her still-flat belly and stroked downward inch by inch. Nina arched back against him and hooked a hand behind his neck. “Mmm,” she said, her voice sweet and low. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking...I’m not quite tired enough to go to sleep.” Nina spread her legs for him, and he dipped his fingers back into her warmth. “And you’re not, either.”

  “I—I’m not,” she breathed. “Perhaps you could help me with that.”

  “It’s a fair enough trade. You decorate my rooms, and I’ll do this.” He rolled her toward him, and that was the last they spoke for a long time.

  7

  Nina gave herself a once-over in the mirror, the room quiet and sunny and even emptier than it had been last night. Matek was the heart of every space he entered, and now that he was gone to a long series of meetings about security for the event, she ached for him.

  And she just ached. The sex had been athletic and tiring and passionate and wonderful, and Nina felt like she’d had the workout of a lifetime. It probably had been. Sadly, it hadn’t managed to stave off this morning’s upset stomach. It looked like the only thing with that power was the stroke of noon. The numbers on Nina’s phone screen had ticked over, and the nausea lifted. It was time to get to work. Her body must know it on a deep level.

  She looked pretty good, despite throwing up twice this morning. Good enough to find the women in the palace.

  That was the first item on her agenda, and she set off from Matek’s room with her head held high. Decorating the apartments to be fit for a sheikh wasn’t going to be a one-woman job. Most of the actual work would be hers, but she needed to know how to do it. And when you needed that kind of information, you went straight to the source. She wished she’d had more time to meet them at dinner, but that ship had sailed.

  Nina found them in a smaller dining room in the private wing of the palace. The women of the royal family—ten of them in total, as she counted them quickly—hovered around a table where their children ate. She stopped at the door long enough to hear the way they talked to each other, voices cheery.

  That all changed when she stepped inside.

  A silence dropped over the room like a blanket over a birdcage.

  “Hello,” one of them said. Chilly. Nina almost wished she’d brought a coat—almost. She was used to the cold. Just that morning, she’d woken up to an email from her parents congratulating her on her pregnancy. The entire thing had lasted three lines. A chilly hello would have no effect on her.

  “Good morning,” she said, slipping easily into Arabic. A few of them blinked back at her. They hadn’t been sitting close enough at dinner to know she spoke the language. “I’m Nina.” She put her hands to her chest. “I’m here because I was hoping to get some advice.”

  “Devra,” said the woman who had spoken. None of the others offered their names. “What kind of advice?”

  “I’ve been given a task.” She smiled, trying to catch as many of their eyes as possible. “It’s a good thing, because I’m used to working and I don’t know what to do with too much spare time.”

  “What is the task?” Devra didn’t waste any time, did she?

  “The palace is absolutely beautiful,” Nina began. “It’s clear someone has put a lot of work into it.”

  “Doesn’t sound much like a task,” sang one of the other women, not taking her eyes off the child in front of her. “Most of the work has already been done. No, no—not with your hands.” She bent down to guide the little girl’s hand to her silverware.

  They were a tough crowd. That didn’t cow Nina. She’d lived in a tough crowd for most of her life. At least she had a chance of winning over this one.

  “I can only imagine how the family apartments must look. All except Matek’s.” She gave the rest of them a conspiratorial smile. “He’s asked me to decorate his rooms so they can be up to royal standards.”

  Their stares settled on her skin like chill fall breeze in Connecticut—not a hint of warmth. “I thought I’d see if you had any advice. I want to get this right.”

  Devra narrowed her eyes. “You’d put in all that work?”

  Nina let a beat go by. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Even if you won’t be here more than a few weeks?”

  The rest of the women tittered, the sound bouncing through them one by one. Nina tried to join in on the joke. “Is that how long engagements usually last?”

  “We’ve never seen one like yours,” said one of the other women, her dark eyes glancing over Nina’s. “Matek hasn’t brought any other women back to the palace.”

  That gave her a burst of pride. “I can tell you, I intend to be here longer than a few weeks.”

  One by one, the children finished their food and got to the floor. This wasn’t just a dining room, then—Nina tossed a glance over her shoulder and took in the toys on the other side of the room. A miniature kitchen. A basket of blocks. This must be where the women in the family congregated. A vision of herself in a year, cradling her own young baby, flashed into her mind. Would she still be standing on the sidelines then? Would Devra and her band of popular palace women have been proven right?

  She blinked back into the present. The women had clustered on one end of the table, the children were toddling toward the toys, and Nina was on the outside.

  One more try. She cleared her throat, earning a glance from Devra. “Are there any palace color schemes I should know about?”

  “Matek will give you the guidelines.”

  But he hadn’t—he’d basically given her free rein.

  One of the littler children, a boy, came over and whined at Nina’s feet. She guessed he might be eighteen months. He was walking. Unsteady steps, baby fat—Nina was drawn to him like a magnet. And she didn’t have the energy for any more attempts at cracking Devra’s code, so when the boy trailed away, she followed him. He finally sat down in front of a play kitchen and grabbed a plastic bunch of grapes. In the blink of an eye he had them in his mouth, chowing down hard.

  Nina gently guided the toy out of his mouth. “Not in your mouth,” she said with an encouraging smile. The boy stared at her blankly then cracked a small smile. But it faded as quickly as it came, and he went back to whining. “Let’s play with a ball.” She reached for one near the wall and rolled it to him. He rolled it back, but on the next turn batted it out of the way. His chin quivered, and new tears sprang down his cheeks.

  Something was up.

  “What hurts?” Nina asked, feeling that familiar nanny-calm come over her. She hadn’t yet cracked the code of the other women of the household, but kids? Kids were simpler. “Your face looks sad. Something’s bothering you.” His cheeks were pink. The color matched the rash on his chin. He stood up but thumped back down on his bottom right away. He cried louder, the sound ricocheting off the ceiling. “Oh, something’s really bothering you,” said Nina, watching him carefully.

  “Don’t waste your time.” The voice came from above her, and she craned her neck to see who it was. Devra. By the combination of frustration and compassion in her eyes, Nina guessed she was the boy’s mother. “He’s been a bear for the last few days. Nothing makes him feel better.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Yanni.” Devra sighed. “Just another phase of his, I suppose.”

  “I wonder if it’s something else,” Nina said easily. “I’m sure you’ve read in the papers that I was a nanny in Sheikh Chakir’s household.”

  “I hadn’t,” Devra said cautiously. That had to be a lie. There was no way on Earth she hadn’t heard the story. Gossip spread like wildfire in Kishon’s palace, and Nina had enough experience in wealthy households to know it would be exactly the same here.

  �
��Let’s sing a song,” Nina said, and that caught Yanni’s attention. He looked at her, brown eyes huge. “Ready?” She launched into a gentle version of a song from Hamari, a similar story to “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” After a minute, Yanni joined in, reaching his chubby arms above his head with a huge grin on his face. “There we go,” Nina sang in tune with the song. “Solved it.”

  “Solved what?” Devra crouched down next to them, leaning in close. “Did you see something?”

  Nina kept singing. “I saw a tooth. Just broke through. He’s probably a bit uncomfortable.”

  “A tooth?” Devra’s hand flew to her chest. “He’s not due to get his next tooth for a couple of months. Both my other children followed a strict schedule.”

  “All the signs are there.” She still went through the motions of the song with Yanni once more, then twice. “He looks a bit feverish. He’s drooling...” Yanni reached for the toy grapes and shoved them back in his mouth. “And the chewing. He keeps trying to go for the grapes.” She laughed and guided them out of his mouth. “I’m guessing you don’t want him teething on communal toys?”

  Devra made a face. “Not if it can be helped. A tooth?” She scooped Yanni close and stuck a finger in his mouth. Surprise blossomed on her face. “You’re right. I can feel it.”

  “My eyes didn’t deceive me.” Nina got to her feet, and Devra followed suit, Yanni in her arms. Some wall had come down between them. Devra’s face filled with concern and that concentration that Nina had seen so often on Hannah’s face back in Hamari.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Devra said. “He’s been sticking his fingers in his mouth, but it didn’t fit with the pattern.” She gave a wry chuckle. “My other two always put their entire fist in their mouth when they were teething.”

  “A cold washcloth can do wonders,” Nina suggested. “It would give him something to chew on that wasn’t his finger—or those grapes.” She named a pain reliever, and Devra’s face lit up.

  “I know we have some of that. Let me—” Devra’s laser focus turned on the rest of the room. She raised a hand, and a servant came toward them at a fast clip. Nina hadn’t even seen the servant. What a life, to have people ready to help any time you raised your hand. Devra spoke rapidly to the servant, ordering up the items Nina had suggested.

  Inside ten minutes, Yanni was chewing happily on a chilled washcloth, and within thirty, the baby painkillers had kicked in. The flush went away from his face and the tears disappeared. It wasn’t long before he struggled out of Devra’s arms and ran for the toys. Nina’s heart lifted. No matter what the other women thought of her, she’d made Yanni’s day better. She’d take that victory any time.

  “I’m so glad he feels better,” she said, then slid her hands into the pockets of her dress. Best to leave on a high note. “It was lovely to meet you,” she told Devra. “I’ll be back later.”

  Nina was halfway to the door when Devra called her name. Heat sped to her cheeks—had she forgotten something? Was something wrong with her dress? Nina turned back, bracing for the moment Devra told her she wasn’t welcome in the dining room. “Yes?”

  Devra bit her lip, then a tentative smile flitted across her face. “Stay a while. I know a few places to get furnishings.”

  “Me too,” chimed in one of the other women. “And if you don’t have time today, you could stop by for tea next week.”

  “Oh, all right.” Nina beamed at them. She’d made it.

  8

  Matek walked quickly through the halls of the palace, his heartbeat booming in time with his steps. He hadn’t meant for the meetings to last all morning and most of the afternoon. This palace simply wasn’t run the way Kishon’s had been. Security was lax, almost an afterthought, and it couldn’t be that way for the birthday party. It couldn’t be that way period. The oversight left the royal family open to almost any threat. Matek had his work cut out for him, and it was going to take extra time. Just like the meetings.

  The palace had to be in top form for the event, and he turned his plans over again and again in his mind. There would be sheikhs in attendance from all over the Middle East. He hoped to exchange security ideas with them, and he didn’t want to have conversations about security without his own plan being flawless.

  But first, Nina. His fiancée. He still hadn’t gotten used to the sound of that, even in his own mind.

  He checked his phone one more time. Nina hadn’t sent any messages, but he’d wanted to check in more than he had. Every conversation had rolled into a new one, and now here he was, hurrying to get back to her.

  Matek pushed open the door to his suite and drank in the silence, his heartbeat in his ears. “Nina?” The silence pressed hard against his ears. Was she even here?

  He came through his living area, which struck him now as too empty. One rug, a set of chairs, a sofa...it wasn’t enough furniture for the room. When he thought of Nina living here, he thought of a place filled with color and comfort.

  He found her in the bedroom, curled up in bed like a cat, blonde hair spread out over the pillow behind her. The sight of her, so vulnerable, lips slightly parted, stopped him dead at the doorway. He put a hand to his chest. The need to protect her was electric, as if it might be driving every beat of his heart. Intense. She’d taken off her dress and wore only a tank top and a matching pair of panties. The sheet had slipped down over her waist, exposing the curve of her hips, and hot on the heels of that need to protect came a desire so strong it made him lightheaded.

  Matek kicked off his shoes and padded into the room. The bed dipped underneath him, and Nina stirred, rolling onto her back. He bent to kiss her, reveling in the softness of her lips, and when he pulled back her eyes were open.

  “Hi,” she said, the word turning into a yawn. “I slept longer than I meant to.”

  “I was gone longer than I meant to be.” He ran his hand down the side of her body, soaking in the warmth of her skin. “I didn’t get nearly enough of you today.”

  “Oh, no?” Nina grinned, stretching, and he came back in for another kiss. “I could say the same about you.”

  The energy between them snapped and pulled tight. Matek’s skin was alive with it, electric with it. Tearing her clothes off would be nothing.

  Nina’s stomach growled.

  The sound cut through the desire between them like a grounding wire, hauling all that sexiness straight down into the ground. Nina grimaced. “I haven’t eaten much today. I meant to figure something out when I got back here, but I fell asleep.”

  He snapped instantly into problem-solving mode. He wanted her badly, but her hunger was like an alarm sounding in his mind. “I’ll call down to the kitchens. Or—” He checked his phone for the time. “We could join the rest of the family for dinner.”

  Nina’s eyes searched his. She pushed herself upright and ran a hand through her hair. It didn’t matter that she’d been sleeping. The way those sandy waves fell over her shoulders struck him as sheer perfection.

  “What would you think about going out? You haven’t been here in a long time. Are there any restaurants you’ve been missing? A favorite place, maybe?”

  Her gentle prompting was a string tugging at the center of his ribs. Why did he feel like she was opening some far-off door? She’d never been here, as far as he knew, and yet it seemed like Nina was reminding him of what he loved about Damarah. He hadn’t thought about it in those terms—in terms of loving a place for what it was—in years, if ever. He opened his mouth to say no.

  “Al Sarab.” The name took him by surprise. It would be easier and safer to stay in the palace, but even saying the words had his mouth watering. Al Sarab. His favorite restaurant. It had been his favorite for as long as he could remember. “If I could go anywhere in Damarah, that’s where I’d go.”

  “That sounds great.” Nina swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. “I’ll be ready to go in a couple of minutes.”

  A competing impulse pulled at him, wanting him to stay
put, wanting him to stay behind the palace walls. But he couldn’t start thinking that way now. There wouldn’t always be palace walls—not after his contract in Damarah was over. And he wanted to eat at Al Sarab.

  Nina sauntered toward the bathroom, hips swaying, and Matek bit back the urge to scoop her up and haul her back to bed. Instead, he fired off a rapid series of texts. At least six members of his security team would need to be there ahead of time. Matek was news now, and if he wanted to avoid being swarmed...

  “How do I look?” Nina winked at him from the bathroom door. She’d changed into a flowing dress that rippled off the lines of her body. She was a vision. “Good enough to go to your favorite restaurant?”

  “Good enough to go anywhere.”

  * * *

  Matek sat with his back against the wall at his favorite table at his favorite restaurant in the country. No—the world. If it weren’t for the paparazzi outside, he could be right back in his childhood again, sitting across from his grandfather. Before he’d been separated from his mother for training. Before he’d been taught to keep his mind on his job and his heart suspicious. Before he’d had to look for threats everywhere.

  He could see no threats now.

  “You’re smiling,” Nina said. “What are you remembering?” She smiled back at him, cheeks pink. They’d been sharing a plate of warm flatbread, and Nina perked up with every bite.

  “Being here with my grandfather,” he said. The words came easily. The truth came easily, more now than ever before. “When I was very young, he used to bring me here.” A thousand conversations rushed through his brain in a whispered hum. “It was good.”

  “The food?”

  “My childhood.” He looked into her blue eyes and saw a fresh understanding reflected back at him. “It was better than some people can dream of. But...” The next thought came up from the depths of his soul. “It’s not what I want for our baby.”

  “I understand that.” Nina took his hand and squeezed it. “I didn’t grow up in a royal household, but it was close.”