The Sheikh's Baby Scandal(52)

‘What are you doing?’ Kedah asked. ‘How has it been?’

‘Not too bad. A lot of press and a little bit of panic from some quarters, but it’s dying down now.’

‘Good.’

‘When do the Accession Council meet?’ Felicia asked, wondering why he didn’t have her tearing the envelope open now.

‘An hour or so,’ he said, as if it hardly mattered. ‘I want to ask you something. What did you say to Kumu on the stairs? She hasn’t been quite the same since!’

Felicia let out a low chuckle. ‘I just pointed out that, as nice as your father is, he’s still King and he clearly loves his wife. I said that I’d hate to offend him.’

He laughed, and then he was serious. ‘Are you going to open it?’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to put you down.’

She placed the phone on the desk and put him on speaker, and then she took out a letter opener and sliced open the envelope.

Kedah listened carefully. There were no sniffles or heavy breathing. Felicia was indeed tough.

‘Congratulations, Your Royal Highness.’

She smiled, and it was a genuine one.

No, she didn’t want him to be King—but that was a selfish wish. She was also terribly pleased for him.

‘Go get ’em,’ she said.

‘Hey, Felicia...?’

‘I have to go, Kedah,’ she said.

‘You can talk for a moment.’

‘No.’ She smiled again. ‘I really do have to go. Good luck!’

Absolutely she had to go. Because she was starting to break down.

He didn’t need to know as he went into a fight for the throne that she loved him and would do so for ever. And neither did he need to be sideswiped by the news that she was pregnant.

In time she would tell him—somehow.

Yet she knew she was tough and could raise their child alone.

She thought of all the people who loved their Prince and needed change.

She just needed a moment to cry. And she put her head in her hands and sat at her desk to weep in a way she never had.

Oh, Felicia had cried before—of course she had—but she sobbed now.

There was no need to worry about Anu hearing, for Felicia’s sobs were deep and quiet and racked her body. She wrapped her arms around herself, scared that if she let go she might fall apart.

She was so deep in grief that she didn’t hear the door open.

‘Felicia...’

His voice stilled her.

Kedah had been sure of her love, but as he’d watched her on the live stream and heard her speak on the phone moments before she had sounded so composed that for a moment his certainty had wavered.

She looked up, stood up, and there were so many questions.

‘You should be there...’ she said, and there was no way to hide her tears so she ran to him.

He held her tight in his arms and Kedah knew he had been right to return when he had. Sometimes you had to look after those you loved first.

‘I’m not needed there. My father will go in and tell them who is the rightful Crown Prince...’ He held her closer. ‘But I am needed here...’

He kissed her, and there were so many things that he wanted to say, but right now not one of them mattered.

It was a kiss so deep and so passionate that it should never have ended, and yet there were too many things she needed to know.

And Kedah too.

‘Were you crying the morning I called you and you said that you had a cold?’

Felicia nodded.

‘I have spoken with my father. I have told him that I have chosen my bride...’

And as she winced, as she braced herself to hear the chosen name, he pulled out a diamond that was familiar. He told her that soon it would be mounted on gold and worn on her finger.

‘Every time I looked at this I knew I would be okay, and I want the same for you...’

The diamond had reassured him that come what may he would be taken care of, and in handing it over to Felicia he afforded her the same reassurance.

‘Marry me?’

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she might hear those words from Kedah.

Liar.

Had his driver been there he might have stood and applauded—and, yes, she might have joined in. For, yes, in her wildest dreams she had hoped that one day he would say those words, that there might somehow be hope for them.

‘I didn’t want you to be your father’s son.’ It was a terrible confession to make. ‘I feel so guilty, because I’ve been hoping and wishing that you weren’t because then there might be a chance for us...’

‘I make my own chances, Felicia, and there is no need to feel guilty. I am glad that you wanted a chance for us.’ He thought back to Mohammed’s cruel words. ‘It is wonderful that you love me whether or not I might one day be King.’