Heir to a Desert Legacy - By Maisey Yates Page 0,71
myself. I just...am.”
“And you’ve shown me that love gives, it gives more than it takes. As you’ve given to me.”
“And as you’ve done for me.”
“What do you think? Sixteen years of marriage doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?” she asked, leaning in and kissing his lips.
“It still doesn’t seem ideal.”
She frowned. “It doesn’t?”
“No, Chloe al Kadar, I don’t want sixteen years. I want nothing less than a lifetime. You have to admit, since we love each other, it’s the only logical thing.”
“Well, Sheikh Sayid al Kadar, since you have presented me with completely infallible logic, I accept.”
“So, in the end my logic won you over.”
She shook her head. “No. In the end, it was your love that won.”
* * *
A couple months later, they discovered that breastfeeding wasn’t the world’s most effective form of birth control.
Chloe sat on the edge of their bed, in their shared room, with a shocked look on her face.
“You’re a scientist,” Sayid said dryly, the distressed look on his wife’s face nearly comical. “You should have known this could happen.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“You’re hormonal already.”
She picked up a pillow and threw it at him. “You aren’t freaking out,” she said.
“I’m not. Because I’m happy.”
“You are?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be happy? This time with you and Aden...these have been the best months of my life. You were right about love,” he said. “It just keeps growing, and now...now it’s going to grow even more.”
“This might be the second son,” she said.
He nodded. “And he will be treated no different than the first. And the one after him will be treated no different. All of our children will be loved. And they will be here, with us.”
She nodded, a smile on her lovely face. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
“You were afraid I would not?”
“Not really but...tradition...”
“Damn tradition. I already have you in my room, in my bed every night. Aden already spends more time with us than with his nannies. I have no interest in tradition. I want a family.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’m so glad we get to have it together.”
EPILOGUE
Sixteen years later...
“WHERE IS ADEN?”
Chloe turned at the sound of her husband’s voice, nerves fluttering in her stomach. “He’s in his room.”
“And is he ready?”
“He’s just a boy, Sayid.”
“He’s the heir to the throne of Attar. And he’s about to take his place.”
She nodded. “I know. He was born for it. He’s spent his life preparing for it...but...”
“But you’re his mother, and you can’t help but worry about him.” Sayid crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. Sixteen years hadn’t diminished the power of his touch. To create desire in her body, to fill her with lust, with need. With love. “I’m his father. I feel the same way. But he’s strong. He’s smart. And he has us.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Are the other children ready?”
“I’m just hoping no one spilled anything on their clothes. They got dressed so early it doesn’t seem like all the outfits will make it through to the coronation clean.”
“It doesn’t matter if they don’t. We’ve never pretended to be a traditional royal family.”
“I don’t suppose we had a hope of it.”
“No, Dr. al Kadar,” Sayid said. “I don’t suppose we did. Not many sheikhas teach at universities.”
“And not many sheikhs have children’s artwork hanging all over their office.”
“I suppose not. But not many sheikhs have a family as wonderful as mine.”
Aden appeared in the doorway, his clothing perfectly pressed, the expression on his young face fill with utter seriousness. A surge of pride, of love, went through Chloe. Her oldest son was a man now in the eyes of the country, but to her, he would always be the baby she’d cradled to her chest. The baby she’d give up everything for.
The baby that had, in the end, given her everything in her life that mattered.
“I’m ready,” he said.
“So are we,” Sayid said, keeping on arm around Chloe’s waist and putting his hand on Aden’s shoulder. “As soon as you want to go in, we’ll follow.”
“I’m glad you’ll be with me,” Aden said.
“Always. We’re always here behind you.”
“I’ve never doubted that.” He gave them both a smile and walked back out, toward the throne room, toward his future.
“That boy,” Sayid said, “is the hope of a nation. But more than that, he’s our son. He brought us together. Nothing will change that.”
“I know,” Chloe said. She turned to Sayid and kissed him, kissed him with all of the passion that had built between them, grown, over the years