Home > Pregnant with the Sheik's Baby (The Samara Royal Family #1)(2)

Pregnant with the Sheik's Baby (The Samara Royal Family #1)(2)
Author: Elizabeth Lennox

Ah, little lady, he thought, your days are numbered. We will be together.

By six o’clock that evening, he had a file folder with the woman’s information and he sat down with a glass of scotch to read.

In his experience, women were fickle, gravitating to the man who would give them the most but ready to move on to the next if something better entered their periphery. Normally, he was the “something better” that women eyed. Too many times, he’d seen women hanging off of one man’s arm only to get him in their sites and abandon their date/lover/husband.

He knew that he was cynical about the world. And there were probably women out there who weren’t so mercenary. But so far, he hadn’t run into one of them. Was this lovely Mia of the loyal-never-before-experienced members of the female gender?

He doubted it. He wasn’t that lucky, he thought with cynicism.

She was certainly lovely enough to explore though.

She was twenty-four years old, two years out of university and working on her master’s degree in education. She received excellent annual evaluations from both her supervisors as well as several letters of thanks from grateful parents of students in her class and, according to the interviews from some of the parents of her students, they all loved her. Her bank balance was painfully low, she had sadly lost both of her parents several years ago and was an only child. He absently wondered if she ever got lonely now that she was alone in the world.

Moving further into the quickly compiled report, he read through the list of her professional associations, all very impressive, plus several articles that she’d had published during her years at university as well as several more published in professional journals more recently.

The information was revealing, he thought as he set the file aside, but not nearly enough. The file didn’t tell him all that he wanted to know. Soon, he thought. He’d get all of the information about his mysterious, shy lady very soon.

He didn’t question why he needed details about this particular woman when in the past, his relationships had always remained much more superficial. A beautiful woman, intelligent conversation and a sensuous nature were all that he wanted or required from his female companionship. Well, and the ability to forget her when his interest waned.

He suspected that Ms. Fortelle was going to be a much more fascinating companion than his previous lovers had been.


The following day, Mia stood in her classroom doorway and stared at the enormous bouquet of pink roses sitting on her desk. She didn’t want to touch them but kept telling herself that they weren’t poisonous, that a snake wasn’t going to jump out to bite her and there was no spider lurking within the beautiful blooms, ready to attack.

They were just flowers. Simple, beautiful flowers. Pink roses. No cliché red roses from that man.

Of course, the flowers might have been from someone else, she thought. They could be from that guy she’d met at the coffee shop last week, the one with the weird dimple in the middle of one cheek but not the other. They could be from that professor she’d spoken to at the teaching conference last month, the one where everyone had been bored out of their minds. He’d been a very handsome man, if slightly more lean than the man who had occupied her thoughts and her dreams for the past twenty hours.

“Are we going into the classroom, Ms. Fortelle?” one of her students asked.

Mia looked behind her, realized that her class was still standing outside in the hallway. She’d just walked all of them back from their music class and was trying to mentally prepare for their afternoon math session when she’d spotted the flowers that had been placed on the corner of her desk.

“Oooh! Ms. Fortelle got flowers!” one of the girls exclaimed, rushing past Mia and wiggling between the desks until she was standing at the corner of Mia’s desk where the roses were perched. With that announcement, chaos erupted with all of the students trying to catch a glimpse at the evidence of their favorite teacher’s romantic life.

As she stood in the doorway, Mia felt several of them crowding around her, some bumping into her back and hips in their effort to see the flowers. She knew it was time to get them settled down to their math work but she was actually afraid to enter the classroom, afraid of what the flowers meant.

Two other teachers sidled up to Mia, almost as excited as the kids. “Got a new hunk?” one of the other teachers asked with a knowing smile on her face.

The other teacher, older by about ten years, only smirked with cynicism. “Don’t get used to it, honey. Just enjoy the flowers now because the men don’t continue those sweet little gestures later on. Once they have that ring on your finger, romance goes out the door. Along with a lot of other fun stuff,” and she chuckled to herself as she continued walking down the hallway to her own classroom.

Mia shook herself and accepted that she was being silly. The flowers could be from anyone! Besides, the handsome man from the street yesterday wouldn’t know where she worked. They’d barely spoken! He didn’t even know her name, much less where she worked or even her occupation!

She was being ridiculous and class needed to start. “Okay everyone, settle down and find your seats,” she called out, stepping into the room and watching as all of her students crowded in, some of them properly going to their seats but a stubborn group still hovered around her desk, wanting to touch the delicate blossoms.

“To your seats,” she called out again, this time with a stern tone of voice. The students heard the authority in her voice this time and followed directions, moving quickly over to their chairs but still looking back at the flowers with longing. The girls were wishing that they had a beau who would send them flowers while the boys were wondering…well, she had no idea what little boys thought of flowers. Probably that they were stinky. She suspected that their opinions wouldn’t change as they aged but they would understand the significance to a woman. At least, she hoped that would happen.

“We’re going to be learning about…” and she started the class, focusing all of her energy on teaching the kids. It was a challenge though. The pink roses kept catching her eye, distracting her. Just as memories of the man had done all night and all morning. When she walked by her desk, she could smell the delicate scent and the color continuously caught her eye, luring her closer. She resisted the urge as much as she could, but it was a challenge.

By the end of the day, after her last student had gone home, her classroom cleaned up and lessons prepared for the next day, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was get home, curl up with a cup of tea and watch a movie. Something non-romantic so that she wouldn’t even think about the man from the previous night or the way his eyes had shouted out a warning. A warning that her body had certainly understood! Was her body heeding that warning? Absolutely not! Nor had her mind stopped thinking about the note attached to the flowers.

She’d peeked but it hadn’t proven anything. All that had been written was, “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.” Nothing else, no name, no initials, not even a clue as to who might have sent them to her.

But she knew. She hadn’t gotten a name from the mysterious man last night, but she knew the pink roses were from him. She knew it and her heart thundered with that knowledge.

The man didn’t play fair, she thought as she pulled her brown coat on, slid her hands into her worn out, leather gloves and grabbed her heavy tote bag filled with papers that she needed to grade tonight. Sending anonymous flowers was cheating, she thought. If she hadn’t been so fascinated by the man, she might think that the gesture was a bit creepy. She should probably think it was creepy. After all, there was no note, no name. A little stalkerish.

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