Home > The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights #2)(31)

The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights #2)(31)
Author: Olivia Gates

She’d never even let herself imagine this moment. She’d refused to paint scenarios of what he’d do, how he’d feel, if he saw Adam when he knew he was his. She’d strangled any thought before it came to life. Because any imagining would have been a shard embedded in her heart, an injury that would have constantly bled and drained her of life and will.

“Ma ajmalak men subbi. Enta mo’jezah!”

What a beautiful boy you are. You’re a miracle.

“Baba?”

Adam’s chirping voice articulated the word softly, carefully. It detonated in her head and heart, snapped her control. Tears poured, squeezed from her very essence.

Jalal’s eyes, struck and reddened, tore from Adam to her, their question dazed but clear. She shook her head. She hadn’t told Adam anything. But Adam knew other kids had their babas. He’d recognized Jalal as his.

A shudder shook through Jalal’s great body, tears filled his wolf eyes as a smile she’d never thought to see trembled on his lips, one of heartbreaking tenderness. “Aih, ya sugheeri, ana Baba.” One finger touched Adam over his heart. “W’enta ebni.”

Yes, my little one, I’m your father. And you’re my son.

Then he held out his arms to Adam.

A whimper escaped her as emotion spiked, twisting her insides. Adam always checked with her, asking her consent in a smile or a verbal encouragement, before he let a new person hold him. He asked for none now, pitched himself into Jalal’s arms.

A groan of overwhelmed joy and relief rumbled from Jalal as he received Adam’s robust body with care and reverence.

Adam pointed to himself, said his name, had Jalal repeating it after him before he proceeded to name his articles of clothing. Then examining Jalal with utmost concentration and interest, he pawed his face and triumphantly named his features. Satisfied with his preliminary exploration, he smiled at Jalal shyly, produced his precious pink elephant from his pocket.

As Jalal accepted it, looking more moved than she had thought possible, she heard Dahab’s voice as if coming from another realm.

“You should consider yourself privileged beyond imagining. No one, and I mean no one is allowed to even touch Mimi.”

Smiling with his whole body, Jalal turned to Dahab. “I assure you, I feel far more than that. I feel blessed for the first time in my life, when I in no way deserve to be.” He reached out one of those immaculate hands to her. Adam squeaked out her name. Jalal chuckled. “Thanks for the introduction, ya sugheeri. I certainly see why your aunt was called that.”

Dahab was Lujayn’s very opposite in coloring, with hair of pure gold, hence her name, and dark chocolate eyes.

As Jalal shook Dahab’s hand, his eyes warm and his smile warmer, a sick frisson went through Lujayn. In spite of her bravado, Dahab was fluttering under Jalal’s influence, and she was also the most beautiful woman Lujayn had ever seen. What if…

Jalal swung his gaze back to Adam, looking down in awe at the upturned cherubic face that looked back at him with the same fascination. At length, he let out a ragged exhalation, looked at her for real for the first time today.

“Ya Ullah, ya Lujayn, what is this miraculous being we managed to have between us? This prodigy who recognized me on sight?” He grinned at Adam, squeezed and tickled him. “So who am I? Who am I, you most wonderful and intelligent tot? Let me hear it again.”

Adam wriggled his excitement, shrieked his delight. “Baba!”

“That’s right, you magnificent boy, you! I am Baba Jalal. Can you say that?”

“Baba Jalal!”

Jalal’s eyelashes fluttered, as if blinking back tears. “Ya Ullah, I didn’t even think you’d be able to talk at this age.”

“Oh, he talks.” Dahab chuckled. “All the time. A lot is still in his own language, like ‘bandend’ for balloon, and ‘minkilonti’ for macaroni, but he manages to make you get his drift.”

“He says fifty-six words, in Arabic and English.” Lujayn realized she’d spoken only when they all looked at her. “Uh…I write down everything he says. It’s beyond his developmental age, which is fifty words at most, in one language....”

Her voice petered out at the flare of intensity in Jalal’s eyes. Suddenly she found herself tucked into his body with Adam. Before she drew another breath, he took her lips in a scorching, devouring kiss that had blood whooshing in torrents in her head.

In the periphery of an awareness that overflowed with sensation, whoops and whistles echoed, until he unlocked the seal of their lips and raised his head to smile at their approving and encouraging audience.

Adam mashed their faces back together. “Kiss, kiss.”

“Son, your wish is my command.” Jalal chuckled, searing her with another kiss punctuated by the enthusiasm of their son and Dahab.

He released her seconds before she swooned, passion and mirth setting his eyes on golden fire. “You have to give me that list. And another of his own words.” She nodded numbly as he looked down at Adam who nestled into him contentedly. Pride blazed in his eyes as he turned them back to her. “How can I ever thank you for the priceless treasure of our son, ya’yooni’l feddeyah?”

She almost said something as inane as “You have a fifty-percent share of his pricelessness, so we’re even.” Only her scrambled speech centers stopped her.

“Whoa, and he’s verbal and poetic, too!” Dahab whistled again. “Anything you’re not great at, Prince Jalal?”

“Do you want an alphabetized list? From what I’ve been finding out lately about my mess ups, it might be a good-sized volume.” Jalal raised one formidable eyebrow at Dahab. “And just Jalal. If you don’t want me to call you Sheikha Dahab.”

Dahab shuddered. “Ugh. Reserve that for Mom and Aunt. I still don’t know how I’ll survive my friends finding out about this little gem of archaic pompousness.”

Jalal chuckled. “Is being a sheikha such a terrible thing?”

Dahab quirked her lips at him. “You tell me. How’s being a prince been for you so far?”

He sobered, exhaled. “Aih. The perks have certainly been far outweighed by the aggravations, enmities and heartaches.”

“There you go. I’d rather remain plain old Dahab Morgan.”

Jalal exhaled. “Seems I owe you an apology for outing your family for the nobility they are.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the best thing that has ever happened to them and I can’t thank you enough on their behalf. Me, I’ll just deal with it by being as un-sheikha-like as possible.”

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