The Sheikh’s Pregnant Nanny: Sheikhs of Hamari Book Three Page 7

  “I’m going to fix it.” He dropped his phone back to the table and stood up. First, shower. Second, clothes. Third—get back to the security center. This could take all day. With software like this and a brand-new hardware network, it would probably take well into the evening. “I can’t leave this in anyone else’s hands. I never should have walked away from it in the first place.” His guilt doubled back on itself, swamping him from two sides. Matek whirled around to see Nina trying to hide the hurt on her face. “I don’t regret a single second that I spent with you.” He leaned onto the bed, tipped her chin up, and kissed her. “I only wish I’d been more thorough with the system the first time around.”

  Nina gave him a sleepy smile. “I don’t know how you could have been any more thorough. You spent hours installing those cameras.”

  “I didn’t spend enough time testing, clearly. So that’s what I’m going to do today.”

  He went to the new dresser and pulled open one of the drawers. It was empty.

  “Oh,” said Nina. “I had most of our things transferred to the walk-in closet.” He cast a suspicious glance over his shoulder at her. She was nestled in the sheets, nude and radiant. “Is that your entire wardrobe? Because if it is, we need to have a talk about palace expectations.”

  Matek laughed, but it felt hard-won against the shame of letting the security slip. “Do palace expectations require owning many clothes?”

  “I hate to be the one to tell you the news, but you don’t have a particularly large selection,” Nina said seriously. “It looks barren in there, even with all my things. I’ll add some items as part of my decorating job.”

  Matek crossed the room to the closet to get his clothes for the shower, feeling her eyes on him with every step. “I did delegate that job to you,” he said. “I supposed I can’t very well stop you.”

  “You can’t,” insisted Nina. “Not at all.” There was a beat of sunny silence, and Matek pulled a fresh shirt off a hanger. A nearby drawer held his briefs, folded in a fan pattern. The staff had been hard at work, even if it did throw him off. What was he doing in here, anyway? He didn’t have to bring all his clothes with him to the bathroom. It was as if the night they’d had shook him out of his routine. There was something to be said for getting enough sleep, but there was even more to be said for having Nina straddle him in the moonlight, riding him like his life depended on excellent sex. He shivered, flexing his muscles. Better to get in the shower now, before he climbed back into bed and stayed there all day.

  “Does this mean you’re not coming to the gallery?” Nina asked.

  Matek hung his head, then raised it again. The gallery. Of course. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit it in,” he called. The shirt was already off the hanger. He’d just bring the entire outfit. He chose some pants to go with it, then went back out into the bedroom. “I’m sorry. From what I can tell, the system isn’t in comprehensible shape. I won’t be done by lunch.”

  Nina nodded slowly. “I’ll go by myself, then. If...that’s all right with you.”

  His first instinct said no. No, don’t let her go out into the city by herself. Don’t sit here in the palace while she’s out with the public. Don’t do it. But could he really depend on those instincts when it came to her? Just look at what happened with the security system. Obviously, his gut couldn’t be trusted at the moment.

  “It’s fine with me. But you’ll need to take a security team with you.” He picked up his phone and fired off a few messages. When he looked back up, Nina was still watching him. She rose onto her knees and let the sheet fall away. The morning sun glowed on her naked skin, on the curve from her waist to her hip, on the softness at her belly. She wasn’t showing, but she was different. Matek was hard in an instant.

  “I have to fix the security system,” he warned.

  “Can’t it wait five minutes?”

  This was the one thing Matek was good at—taking action. He strode to the bed and took Nina in his arms.

  “Five minutes,” he growled in her ear, laying her back against the sheets. He brushed a thumb over her nipples, already peaked, and stroked down between her legs, where he found her ready and wanting. She arched back against the sheets. “But only if you promise to come.”

  * * *

  Nina should have eaten.

  She felt around in her purse for a package of saltine crackers, but the purse was a new one she’d pulled from the closet, and it didn’t have any of that heavenly food in it. The SUV taking her to the gallery was already well away from the palace. Ah, well. She’d make it through the gallery opening and head back for a late lunch.

  “Everything all right, Ms. Frank?” The driver met her eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “Of course.” She waved a hand in the air like she could bat away the growl at the pit of her gut. “Just looking forward to getting back to the palace.”

  “We can go now, if you’d like.”

  Nina hesitated. She wanted to be at the gallery opening. The artist was a personal friend of one of the women in the royal family, and she’d seen photos of her paintings at one of their lunches. The art was stunning, and Nina wanted badly to show up for the other mother. You had to put in the work to gain those friendships, and Nina wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity. But her muscles ached, tired from everything she and Matek had done last night...and this morning. They’d slept late. And after another round in the brand-new bed, Nina had found herself rushing to get ready for the opening. “I’ll let you know if I need to leave early.”

  “Very good.”

  He drove her through the streets to the art district. The block was filled with eclectic shops and galleries.

  “It’s busy,” Nina said. The sidewalks hummed with people. “You must have a thriving art community.”

  Yes, thriving. But something was different about their clothes. They weren’t people who were simply out and about shopping. They wore outfits closer to Nina’s fitted thawb and matching pants, all of it in blue silks that brought out her eyes. She was seeing a lot of silk on the sidewalks, too, and fancier cuts and patterns than the everyday linens she’d seen on the drive from the airport. The crowd thickened, and the SUV came to a stop.

  “Your team is getting out to clear a path, Ms. Frank,” said the driver, and—oh. Nina hadn’t been the only one to get an invitation to the opening. Either that, or word had gotten out that the sheikh’s fiancée would be attending, and more people had decided to show.

  She wished Matek were there. Nina hovered a hand over her purse. Maybe she’d text him, just let him know what was going on—

  No. She wasn’t going to call for help every time a sidewalk was crowded. If she was going to be part of his family—really part of his family—this was part of the gig. She’d chosen to avoid the public eye after growing up the child of wealthy diplomats, but being royal meant living that life again after all—dealing with people, not hiding in the car.

  She waited until she could see the security team in position around the car, then let the driver open the door for her. Cameras flashed. Where had they come from? The press must have seeded themselves into the crowd early on. One or two of them called her name, but Nina only smiled, waved, and went into the gallery.

  The wide-open space had stark white walls that made the perfect background for the paintings on display, but the air pressed in around her. Nina shook hands and smiled and didn’t take in a single person’s name. The gallery had to be at capacity. Clutches of Damarah’s artists and patrons and upper crust gathered in tight circles, all of them talking at once. The sound echoed back from the ceiling.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Nina pushed to the side of the gallery, finding a tiny pocket of space between two paintings. Her head felt detached from her body, and her balance—where was it? She planted her feet firmly on the floor and breathed deep. Deep breaths should solve this. Calm, focused breathing would help her.

  Two conversational groups closed in on her, everyone
with their back to her, elbows out. Her heart leaped into her throat. They’d trapped her against the wall. Nina turned to the point man on her security team. “I think it’s time to go,” she said urgently.

  But the man who answered wasn’t on her team. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll have to excuse me.” He brushed past her and disappeared into the crowd.

  Heat crawled up Nina’s back and wrapped itself around her neck. Was the air conditioning even working? Didn’t feel like it. And where was her team? She couldn’t see their black shirts anywhere.

  Out. She had to get out.

  Going out was harder by far than coming in. More guests had arrived, and every one of them knew someone they needed to stop and greet in a tight huddle. Dodging those huddles was almost impossible. Nina caught one elbow in the side, then another.

  She stumbled out onto the sidewalk and straightened up. Smile on. Keep the smile on.

  “It’s Nina Frank!”

  She swiveled her head to the left, trying to keep that smile in place. A thin velvet rope was all that divided her from the people on the other side. People wearing T-shirts and linen tunics and sandals, and all of them holding up their phones. Someone from the back of the group pushed forward, and the velvet rope bowed out. “Hey, stop it,” one of the women in front snapped.

  Nina whipped to the street, but the black SUV was gone, too. Where had the driver gone? He was supposed to wait for her. The gallery was probably her best bet. But as she hurried back across the sidewalk, the crowd noise behind her increased and then someone’s hand came down hard on her elbow. “How about a picture? Nina, how about a picture?”

  She wrenched her arm away, but when she turned there was another person waiting. “Excuse me,” she shouted. “Let me through.”

  They didn’t let her through.

  They only came closer, and she turned again and tripped. The sidewalk came up to meet her in a crash and a sharp pain across the palm of her hand.

  “Oh, crap,” she whispered. Something had been on the ground. Glass? Whatever it was, it had cut deep into her palm. Pain burned up to her wrist.

  “Back away! Everyone back away.” Space cleared above her, sunlight shining in, and the point man from her team crouched down, a steady hand on her shoulder. Oh, sweet relief. She thought she’d faint from it.

  “Are you all right?” He took her in. “No, you’re not.” He lifted his wrist to his mouth and called for the rest of the team. They surrounded her and whisked her back to the car as she tried to catch her breath. They’d saved her.

  But what was Matek going to think?

  11

  Nina lounged on the sofa in Matek’s silent living room and scrolled through a list of furniture pieces from a shop in the city center. The quiet pressed in on her like a thick blanket. The furniture barely stayed in her mind long enough to make an impression. She let her head fall back on the arm of the sofa with a sigh. Who cared about the furniture? Besides Matek. And Matek wasn’t here.

  Everything had gone wrong.

  The cut on her hand still throbbed under the bandage, three days later. The pain was probably worse because there was nothing to do. And the stitches weren’t the worst of it.

  Matek had been white-faced with fear and anger when he got back to the palace that evening. The security system, it had turned out, couldn’t be fixed from the control room. He’d gone to meet with the company at their headquarters to find a solution that would satisfy him, only that had meant a delay in getting back to her. He’d been upset with Nina for not calling him, but he’d been furious with the security team for letting any of it happen.

  And then there was the media fallout.

  Another notification popped up on her phone as she lay there. Nina looked. She couldn’t help herself. “ROYAL FIANCÉE DESTROYING ROYAL IMAGE.” So much for the local press giving her a break. She didn’t have to read the article to know what it said—that she had behaved like a commoner at the gallery opening. Nina didn’t even have time to swipe away that notification before another popped up in its place. “BUN IN THE OVEN FOR ROYAL FIANCÉE?”

  “Good,” she said to the empty room. “Wonderful.” The rumor that she was pregnant had leaked on the heels of the gallery incident, and now....

  Now everything was horrible. All her work befriending the other women in the royal family was worthless. Not one of them had come to see her, and she could only imagine what they were saying behind her back. Matek hadn’t made an official announcement, so his whole family had found out through the press. And who knew? They’d probably believe what they read—that Nina was an American gold digger intent on getting Matek’s money. Especially since it was partially true. She was, after all, American.

  She wished Matek would come back. But the security upgrades in the palace had kept him away since the incident. He seemed to come back to sleep—she rolled over and felt him there in the night, and there was an impression of his head on the pillow when she woke up in the morning. But she wanted a glimpse of the actual man. The reminders of his existence only made his absence worse. All she had was a rotating team of guards outside the door who peppered her with questions if she even hinted at going outside the room.

  She couldn’t breathe under this protective custody. It would almost be better if she weren’t breathing at all. She couldn’t move or focus. Her heart stuttered every time she considered that Matek might be avoiding her. This was the worst.

  Nina stared up at the ceiling. Was she really the kind of person who’d just sit here? She could at least throw herself into the decorating project. That didn’t involve going out or interacting with the press or giving anyone any more fodder for gossip. Not much fodder, anyway. If they wanted to talk about her taste in living room sets, that was fine.

  The ache for Matek expanded behind her breastbone. He’d been here in the middle of the night, and she hadn’t been able to wake up enough to talk to him. And they had to talk. Every hour she spent alone with her thoughts and the cruelty of the internet, her irritation grew. So what if she was an embarrassment to his family? That wasn’t a reason for him to ignore her.

  Her pulse raced, and Nina let herself sink into the argument she’d have with him. The back-and-forth had gotten quite heated by the time a knock sounded at the door.

  She bolted upright. The living room narrowed into a small foyer, and the double doors leading to the hallway hadn’t been opened since Matek had gone out last. He wouldn’t knock on his own door, so it had to be someone else. “Yes?”

  “Nina? It’s me?” It took her a moment to place the voice. Devra. “No, all of you, step away. I’ll visit my friend when I please.” Nina couldn’t make out the murmured argument that followed. Her friend? Hearing that word was like watching the sun peek out from behind the clouds after a long rain. “If you don’t let me through, I’ll call Matek this instant. Trust me, it won’t be good for you if I have to call my brother.”

  Nina had crept toward the door, her feet sinking into the plush rug, and she jumped a foot in the air when it swung open. Devra wore a deep pink dress that set off her dark eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She stepped in and shut the door behind her. “I had to see you with my own two eyes before Matek lifted the ban.”

  The ban hit her like two rapid-fire snowballs. “What ban?”

  Devra came closer, looking Nina over as if she were worried she’d been switched out for another woman. “Matek told everyone to leave you alone. He told the guards to keep things quiet.” She shook her head, fire in her eyes. “I didn’t think you should be left alone after what happened at the gallery, but he disagreed.”

  Nina’s heart could explode with this strange mix of happiness and relief and a fresh wave of irritation at Matek. His family didn’t hate her. They didn’t necessarily agree with the press. Her own sheikh had kept everyone away.

  “Ugh,” Nina covered her face with her hands then let them drop away. “Why would he think that?”

  Devr
a shrugged. “My brother has his own ideas about what people need. What women need, specifically.” She bit her lip, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. I know I wasn’t the warmest to you when you first arrived. I’m sorry about that, too.”

  “It’s understandable.” A heaviness lifted from Nina’s shoulders. She hadn’t known it was there until the moment it was gone. “I’m an outsider.”

  “You’re really not,” laughed Devra. “The children love you. If they thought differently, then you might be an outsider.” She ushered Nina to the sofa. “How are you, really? I heard you got six stitches in your hand.”

  “Now that you’re here, it doesn’t hurt at all.” Nina laughed. “Really. It’s not so bad. My pride is wounded more than anything. When I worked at the palace in Hamari, I at least managed to stay on my feet. Not that anyone would have cared much if I fell over.”

  “It’s not so much the falling over but how you’re doing now that matters.” Devra’s eyes reflected a concern that still, somehow, sent a burst of shock through Nina. Devra put her fingertips to her lips. “Honestly. Are you okay?”

  Nina hadn’t been. She really hadn’t, sitting here in this enforced calm and quiet, alone with her own worries. But now Devra’s voice filled the room, and everything felt lighter. More manageable. The news alerts on her phone—who cared about those, at least for now?

  “I’m all right,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Good.” Devra settled back onto the sofa. “The children are with their nanny, and I’m free for the evening. What movie should we put on?”

  * * *

  Matek’s eyes burned from staring at the screens in the control room for far too long. He couldn’t clear the grit from them, even though he was sure there was no grit. Every blink got harder to come back from. He’d been fighting the urge to lie down and sleep for hours. But the cameras were finally online. The security company had sent out a consultant. Matek had let the man help him with the cameras, then gone back and readjusted everything so that the security company couldn’t be blackmailed for the information. As far as he could tell, things were working.