Free The Sheikh's Twin Baby Surprise by Holly Rayner Page B

grew up in a very different royal family; she was taught a different way of showing her power.”
     
    “And do you think she might be keen to show it to silly American girls who fall in love with her son?”
     
    “Not at all. You have nothing to worry about, my love. I’m going to be there right by your side through this whole dinner, and the baby will be here sooner than we think. Once he is born, neither my mother nor Sajid’s opinions—whatever they may be—will matter at all. I will be king, and they will have no choice but to accept that I love you. And I trust completely that they will come to love you, too.”
     
    Omar meant his words to be comforting, but somehow they weren’t. There was nothing in my upbringing or experiences—even the most adventurous ones—to prepare me for this: a dinner with a royal family, during which we would announce that I was pregnant with the heir to the kingdom.
     
    Not only that, but we would also be announcing our own deep love for each other, and revealing that this wasn’t simply a business arrangement. Tonight would be a night of history, and turning points, and as sure as Omar seemed to be about what would happen, I knew there was no telling how his family was going to react to the news. In my darkest anxiety dreams, I had imagined them disowning Omar, or trying to shame him, or hurt him for his decision to love me and have me carry his child. I worried about what would happen to his legacy.
     
    But Omar wasn’t worried. He was still overjoyed at the thought of becoming a father to our son. He was already doting on him by doting on me, and never let me lift a finger around the palace. He had hired me my own assistant, a young woman named Zaynab who was helpful and intelligent and kept me company when Omar had to attend to his duties. Even though she was younger than me by almost a decade, we had become fast friends and had lots of fun going shopping or having lunch in the gardens. My fear of boredom meant I couldn’t just sit around in bed, waiting for the baby to arrive and doing nothing until he did. Zaynab seemed to understand that, and helped me find safe activities to keep my mind occupied and my body healthy.
     
    Every day, Omar came in with new gifts for me and the baby. He had already re-arranged his enormous suite to include a grand nursery in one corner, complete with every bit of furniture we would need for the baby. I spent hours in the rocking chair, resting my back and feet that ached anew every day, reading stories to my unborn son, hoping he could hear.
     
    Omar had come to every single check-up with me, beaming with joy when the doctors announced all was well and the baby was perfectly healthy. He promised them all raises and the finest casks of wine and whiskey the kingdom could offer, and they would just laugh at him and tell him they were just doing their job.
     
    Watching Omar’s happiness at his impending fatherhood made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I could only imagine how much better it would get when our son finally arrived—even if a kingdom’s-worth of anxiety came along with it. On top of everything, I was simply terrified of giving birth. Even as a doctor, I knew the experience was going to be joyous and scary, painful and incredible.
     
    I couldn’t imagine doing this alone; I couldn’t imagine doing it without Omar by my side.
     
    We arrived right on time at the restaurant Omar had reserved for dinner with his family. The place had been fully bought out for the night so that the royal family could dine undisturbed, and a cadre of security guards was already surrounding the building, creating a wall of black suits to allow us clear passage to the front doors. A few paparazzi were here, anyway, trying to snap photos and get any gossip they could.
     
    Omar kept a protective arm around me as we left the limo for the restaurant.
     
    “Aren’t you worried about our pictures appearing in the gossip rags?” I asked