Sheikh's Scandal(29)

Sayed frowned, but Yusuf said, “Miss Amari is right.”

“You are not my public relations specialist,” the emir reminded his bodyguard.

Yusuf didn’t bother to answer, but held out a single pill blister pack. “As we discussed.”

Sayed took it. “Thank you.”

Yusuf nodded before returning to his seat.

Liyah did not watch him go; her focus was stuck on the silver packet in Sayed’s hand.

“How effective is it?” she asked, her memory not very clear on that point.

“Dr. Batsmani said it is considered between eighty and ninety-five percent.”

“Then why am I on this plane? Why didn’t I just take it back in London and be done with it?”

“Five to twenty percent are hardly impossible odds.” Sayed called the cabin attendant over for water with a wave of his hand.

When it arrived, Liyah opened the blister pack with inexplicable reluctance. Her head knew this was absolutely the right thing to do. She hadn’t planned on motherhood at this point in her life, if ever.

If she were pregnant, Liyah would do her best, just as Hena Amari had done. That didn’t mean she craved the opportunity to raise a child alone.

Although, according to Sayed, that was not one of the options she had to worry about.

Some little part of her heart disagreed with her head, telling her to forget the pill. Hadn’t she wondered what kind of sane woman could let a man like Sayed go?

But no woman with honor would want to have him because he was trapped.

Besides, last night had been the first time she’d ever allowed her emotions to rule. And the aftermath had not been a resounding success.

“It has no effectiveness sitting in your hand,” he teased.

She leaned toward him. “Shh...”

“It’s just a pill. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You know what it’s for,” she whispered.

Humor, rather than the seriousness she would have expected, warmed his dark eyes. “Yes, indeed. I do know.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so cavalier about...” She paused, looking for a word that wouldn’t practically burn her mouth to say.

“Sex?” he asked, striving for innocent, but too amused to be anywhere close.

She glared at him. “You’re from Zeena Sahra. You went without for three years. You should understand repressed.”

“Suppressed, maybe. It’s not the same. I am not ashamed to share a common physical need with an entire planet of people.”

“It’s different for you, you’re a man.”

“Do you think so?”

“Mom was pretty adamant that women had to remain chaste until marriage.”

“And yet you decided not to.”

“I doubt I’ll ever marry,” she admitted. “I’m too shy with men.”

“Really?” He didn’t sound doubtful, so she didn’t take offense at his question.

“Most men. The combination of alcohol and you is a lethal combination.”

“I would like to think the alcohol was unnecessary.”

“It probably would be in future,” she admitted with the honesty she seemed unable to suppress around him. “But last night? It definitely played its role.”


“And yet you insist you were in control of your faculties when you chose to make love with me.”

“I was, just not chained down by my usual inhibitions and introversion around men.”

“You will be less nervous with the opposite sex in the future, I am sure.” He didn’t sound exactly pleased by that prospect.

“It didn’t work that way for my mom.”

“She had you.”

“And a family who rejected her. I have no one left to reject me.”

“That’s a rather morbid thought.”

“Sorry.”

“I will reject you if it will make you feel better.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” But she felt a small smile curving her lips.

She liked bantering with him.

Which scared her probably more than it should.

Determined to lead with her head, not her heart, she took a deep breath, tossed back the pill and swallowed it down with water.





CHAPTER NINE


AS THE MINUTES wore on, a need for the restroom broke through Liyah’s consuming thoughts.

Loathe to interrupt Sayed in his furious typing on the computer he’d pulled out, she tried to ignore the growing urgency.

She grabbed a magazine from the pocket to the side of her chair and laid it on the table, hoping the glossy stories about other people’s lives would keep her mind occupied and off her biological needs. She flipped through the pages, nothing catching her attention.

Shifting slightly from one side to the other helped, but pretty soon she was going to have to ask Sayed to move.

Suddenly, he stopped typing and leaned toward her. “Are you all right, habibti?”

“Yes, I just, um...” Liyah wasn’t just repressed about sex, but found talking about any private bodily functions a trial.

Which was ridiculous, she realized. She was an adult woman, for goodness’ sake.

“You should have told me you were a virgin.” Sayed frowned at her. “I could have shown more restraint with you last night.”