Nora slipped her phone back into her pocket. “What are you saying, Clementine?”

  “I…I think I do want a child with Samir.” Her voice caught and broke. “But that’s not…I don’t think he’ll be happy to hear this.”

  “He will,” insisted Nora. “He will. He married you, remember?”

  “He married me in Las Vegas,” Clem said, her voice rising. “He didn’t even know he was doing it.” The weight of the engagement ring was heavy on her finger. She’d worn it every day they’d been in Omirabad, even out to the desert. “He’s said all along that this is only temporary. Who am I to argue with that?” Who was a child to argue with that? A child couldn’t, and the thought twisted at Clementine’s heart. Sometimes, you didn’t get a chance to make the case that you deserved a permanent family. The only way Clementine would ever get one would be to make it for herself.

  “I’m sure he’ll change his mind,” said Nora. “In light of the news.”

  “That’s—I don’t want that. For him or for me,” Clementine said. “Samir doesn’t want me with him when he’s working with the tribes. He really doesn’t want me with him, I don’t think. It was one thing to put up with me for three months, but for a lifetime?” She let out a harsh laugh. “No. I don’t want a man who only wants to stay married to me out of duty.”

  “The two of you should talk about it. Work it out. God knows Rashid and I had to do the same thing.”

  “But you’re…different.”

  Nora laughed. “How? I’m a red-headed midwife from London. We fought over whether I could keep practicing. Reason won out in the end, but the men in this family can be quite stubborn. Once you get them to see the light, it’s a different story.”

  “I think you were right after all,” said Clementine. “I might need to lie down.”

  Nora put an arm around her. “I understand.”

  A few minutes later, Clem shut the door to her suite behind her, drinking in the cool.

  The best thing she could do was leave.

  That was the simplest solution. She and Samir couldn’t divorce until the three months were up, but it was better to separate now, before they got any more entangled. Before it became any harder to do the right thing.

  She put one hand on her still-flat belly. For the sake of the baby, she had to keep her heart in one piece.

  She had to leave.

  16

  It had taken nearly a week to settle things with the saffron crop.

  Samir had thought he would breathe easier once he knew Clementine was back at the palace, but the first night she was away he had tossed and turned in their bed. It was the strangest sensation. Samir had only briefly been used to sleeping in bed with Tahlia years ago, and since then he’d only learned to appreciate the open expanse of a properly sized bed. Still, he found himself searching for Clementine. He’d wake in the middle of the night with his hand in the center of the pillow that used to be hers.

  He caught himself thinking of her in the middle of the day, though it should have been easy to put it out of his mind. He’d wanted her to be comfortable and safe, somewhere away from the heat and the sun, and she would be both of those things at the palace. There were plenty of people to look after her. He’d asked Rashid to keep an eye on her, and he’d assured Samir that Nora would check in often.

  It was silly. Clementine was a grown woman, and she could take care of herself. He couldn’t keep this up indefinitely, anyway. In a matter of weeks their marriage would end, and then he would have no reason to worry over her day in and day out.

  In the back of the SUV on the way to the palace, Samir let the air conditioning wash over him and leaned his head back against the seat. He should arrange for a nice dinner. They had another few weeks before they had to part ways, and it should be pleasant. It should be more than pleasant. If she’d forgiven him for sending her back to the palace, maybe they could enjoy each other. His lips ached to kiss her. It was good between them, when they shut out everything else. It was so good.

  He rubbed a hand over his mouth and looked out the window. He’d miss the way they were together when all of this was over. As Samir watched the dunes roll by, it occurred to him that he wasn’t ready for it to be over. And he might not be ready in seven weeks, either.

  By the time the SUV pulled up at the private entrance of the palace, the vehicle had come to feel like a cage. He leaped out as soon as it came to a stop and hurried toward the door. She’d be in his suite, he was sure. Perhaps she’d be in the living area, feet tucked underneath her as she read a book. Or maybe she’d have her laptop perched on her lap, typing out emails to her clients. She spent time each day emailing her clients, even when they were in the desert. It was a good thing they traveled with a generator.

  “Is there anything you need at the moment?” Abbad jogged up next to him as he went through the hallways to his suite. “I can have a meal sent…”

  “I might want to eat,” Samir said absently. “I’ll send a message if I do.”

  “All right.” Abbad hung back at Samir’s door as he went in.

  The living area was empty, all the fine furniture resting in the sunlight.

  “Clementine?” he called.

  There was no answer. There was a peculiar kind of quiet to the room. Maybe she was napping. She had been so tired lately that it would make sense. And it would be much easier to nap here, where the air was always cool. Samir moved softly through the apartment, stopping at the master suite first. Clementine might’ve wanted to be in a bigger bed. Or she might’ve missed him in the same way he missed her.

  But the bed was pristine, not a single wrinkle in the comforter. The staff had probably changed the sheets this morning. It was clear nothing had touched them since.

  He backtracked, pulse picking up the pace. The door to Clementine’s smaller suite was shut tight, and he took a deep breath as he put his hand on the doorknob. If she was sleeping, he’d leave her in peace. If she opened her eyes and let that slow, sultry smile spread across her face…

  Well. He’d shut the door behind him and flip the lock. Obviously.

  The door swung open beneath his hand without so much as a creak. Samir held his breath.

  The room was empty.

  The bed was as undisturbed as his own…except for the envelope and ring.

  He picked up the creamy paper from the center of the bed. Samir, it said on the front in neat handwriting. It had to be from Clementine, though he hadn’t seen her handwriting before.

  The letter was on matching paper. It was the same kind of paper that was stocked in every guest bedroom, only this sheet was filled with the same hand.

  Samir—

  You should know, first off, that I had a wonderful time with you, in Vegas and Paris and even in the desert, despite how it ended. You’re quite the gentleman! Which is why we both deserve a clean break. I’m not cut out to be royalty (except in bed, ha) and you need someone who can be everything you need. Waiting another two months was going to be too painful, so I figured…this is my stop. Thank you for everything. Be well.

  —Clementine

  “I heard you were back.” The voice from the doorway stilled his shaking hands. Rashid stood in the center of the doorframe, holding little Taj to his chest. “Where’s Clementine?”

  “She’s gone.” Wordlessly, Samir crossed the room and handed Rashid the letter. He took it in one hand, read it, then handed it back.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Rashid’s voice was perfectly calm, but there were questions in his eyes.

  “I’m not sure.” Samir ran a hand over his hair. He still felt the desert grit on his skin, and more than that, the awful emptiness of the room he’d given to Clementine. “I can’t believe she left like that. Why didn’t anyone—why didn’t you warn me?”

  “She didn’t consult me, if that’s what you’re asking,” Rashid said. “From her letter, it seems like she made her own decision.”

  Samir put both hands over his mouth, then dropped them to his sides. “I should have expected it.” His heart twisted painfully in his chest. “After Tahlia led me on the way she did, I should have known—”

  “Oh, please, Samir. You cannot possibly think that Clementine is anything like Tahlia.” Taj picked up his head from Rashid’s shoulder, pressed his face to his father’s shirt, and lay down again as Rashid rubbed his back. Rashid cocked his head to the side. “Have you honestly let that woman have free rein in your head all these years?”

  Samir jerked back as if Rashid had slapped him. It hadn’t been that way.

  Had it?

  “You have,” said Rashid. He sighed, patting at Taj’s back in a gentle, almost unconscious rhythm. “There are always going to be people like Tahlia in the world, brother. They’re only looking for the highest perch. It has nothing to do with love. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” echoed Samir.

  “Clementine isn’t gone because she found anything better. She’s gone because she wants what’s best for you. For both of you. It’s right there in the letter. Didn’t you read it?”

  “I read it,” snapped Samir, and Taj picked up his head and stared. “Sorry, Taj. I didn’t mean anything by it. I read the letter,” he said to Rashid. “She’s cutting out early.”

  Rashid laughed. “You were the one who told everyone it was a temporary marriage. I’m surprised to find you in so much shock. You should be celebrating.”

  “Well, I’m not,” said Samir miserably. “Clearly.”

  “Clearly.”

  The two brothers looked at each other across the room.

  “If you’re trying to make a point, then make it,” said Samir.

  “Open your eyes,” Rashid said, bouncing Taj on his arm. “Clementine is nothing like Tahlia was. And you were happy with her.”

  “Was I? Because—”

  “Because she didn’t do everything according to your exacting standards?” Rashid rolled his eyes. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think marriage is about living up to one person’s idea of perfection.”

  Samir scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “Yes, well, I learned my lesson, didn’t I? I made mistakes, and I thought better of things afterward. Feel free to learn from them for your own sake. Or you can go ahead and make them again with Clementine.”

  “She’s already gone.”

  “Don’t be dense. You can still fix this.”

  Samir stared at the paper in his hand. “What if that’s not for the best?”

  Rashid made a low noise of frustration. “Do you really think you could find anyone on the planet who could make you happier than Clementine? You barely called when you were out with the tribes. I think all you needed was her by your side, and you were content.” Rashid crossed the room, bounced Taj a few more times, and handed him off to Samir. “Who else do you see as the mother of your children?”

  Samir made a few faces at his nephew and shifted him to one arm so he could play with his fingers. “I don’t know,” answered Samir. “There’s never been anyone who…”

  “Who could top her,” finished Rashid for him. “So explain to me why you wouldn’t want to build a life with her. It would be easy enough to give up all this nonsense about the temporary marriage and set about making it work for both of you.”

  Samir looked into Taj’s face, the baby’s dark eyes so similar to his own, and pictured what it would be like to have his own child. Would the baby have dark eyes like his, or blue eyes like Clementine? She was like the sunlight. Would their child be—

  Their child. He had leapt immediately to considering a child with Clementine, not a hypothetical with anyone else in Omirabad or even anyone else in the world. His heart turned over. He had been so fixated on things that, in the end, didn’t matter. She made mistakes like everyone else, but at least she’d been out in the desert with him, getting her hands dirty. She’d never once shied away from hard work. She put herself forward in tough situations when other people might have retreated to their bedrooms and given up entirely.

  It took a brave woman to get on a plane to cross the ocean with a man she’d known less than a day. Her pragmatism in Las Vegas had disappeared over the ocean, and he’d watched as she soaked up Paris, enjoying every moment of the day like it was a gift.

  And it had been.

  He’d wanted to give it to her.

  Then the plane had touched down in Omirabad, and Samir was crushed by the pressure of living up to expectations.

  But whose expectations had they really been, in the end?

  His own.

  Every one of them was based on avoiding heartbreak. Samir had been able to convince himself for a long time that it was about honor and duty, but he’d been a man jerking his hand back from a hot fire. Only he’d never stopped backing away. He’d gotten farther and farther away from any source of heat until he finally lost the one thing keeping him warm.

  Clementine.

  “I’ve made a mess of things,” he told Taj in a voice that was altogether too lighthearted for the heaviness in his chest. “What should I do, nephew?” Taj laughed.

  “I’d suggest an apology,” Rashid said, reaching for his son. Taj giggled and held out his chubby arms to his father. “Think about it.” Then he went out, Taj babbling all the way down the hall.

  Samir sank down onto the bed. He should apologize. But how? Clem had already gone. How could they come back from that?

  17

  “I’m so good,” Clementine told her roommate Ashley. “I’m really good. Fine, in fact.”

  Ashley looked at her with wide eyes. “You were in the Middle East for a month. I thought you might never come back. How was it really?”

  “It was…” Clem struggled to find the words to describe it. Now, back in Brooklyn, it seemed totally surreal that she had ever gone to Omirabad. She had lived in a palace. She had lived in a tent in the middle of an oasis, a jewel in the desert. She had slept with the most gorgeous man she’d ever met.

  And she was pregnant with his baby.

  “It was eye-opening,” she said. “I’ll show you the pictures again, if you want. But not today.”

  It had been almost two months since she got back to Brooklyn, and Ashley still seemed surprised by the fact of her going to the Middle East. Ash had been one of Clem’s closest confidants, so she could understand why it was so shocking. The farthest Ashley had ever traveled from Brooklyn was Florida. Once upon a time, before she’d met a sheikh in Las Vegas, Clementine’s life had been much the same. Her heart throbbed. All of it was in the past now, though the memories still seemed warm and sunny to her.

  There was no time to think about it now, however. She had an appointment with her ob-gyn. She’d see the baby for the first time, thanks to the ultrasound.

  Clem gave herself a once-over in the mirror. She’d pulled her hair up into a neat bun and put on fresh lipstick. She looked…excited. And she was. Excited about the pregnancy, excited about her new clients. More than one had panned out after Vegas, and things were looking up for her business.

  “Was it insane, being in the desert?” Ashley wondered, taking a sip from her diet soda.

  “Honestly, it felt like I was the subject of a documentary about a fish out of water,” Clem said. She’d probably feel that way an hour from now, when it was time for her prenatal appointment. Clementine had never spent much time thinking about ultrasounds, but now she could hardly wait for the hour to go by. “But we’ll talk later, Ash. I’ve got an appointment.”

  “Ooh.” Ashley’s eyes brightened. “New client? You’re on fire with business these days.”

  “No, just a doctor visit.” Clem wasn’t sure why she hadn’t revealed her pregnancy to her roommate. Maybe it was because then the news would be out in New York, and she’d feel one step further away from Samir and Omirabad.

  It didn’t sit well with her that he didn’t know, but at this point, the news would have to come in the form of an email. She wasn’t about to do that. She wrinkled her nose.

  “Yikes,” Ashley said. “Did you smell something awful?”

  Clementine laughed. “Just lost in my own thoughts. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

  Ashely headed down the hall to her own room, waving goodbye as Clementine went to the living room. She could ask Ashley to come with her. She could have even called Heather. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t just Samir she wished could come to the appointment. Clem wouldn’t have minded seeing Nora again, either. Or Taj, her cute baby. Even Aliyah.

  She tugged her purse off its hook by the door and took a deep breath. Maybe she’d made the wrong decision, running away like that. She’d been so afraid that Samir would push her away, and for good reason—he’d set an expiration date for their relationship, sent her back to the palace from the desert alone. It hadn’t been in her head. Still, if she’d tried harder, if she’d presented him with another option, maybe she could have had a home there. They’d been more of a family than Clementine had ever had.

  Well, it was too late for that now. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and checked one last time to make sure she had her keys and her subway pass.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Clementine jumped back, stifling a squeak of surprise. It was probably a delivery guy. Didn’t they always have the worst timing, like when your face was inches from the peephole? She put her hand over her heart and raised herself a couple of inches on tiptoe to see through. She caught a flash of dark hair—someone looking down, someone in a hurry to get back to his truck, no doubt, and pulled open the door.

  Samir.

  She gasped, surprise flooding her veins and kicking her heart into high gear. Her mouth dropped open. Clementine had so much to say, and in this moment, none of it formed into usable words.

  He looked so good.

  He looked as good as the first time she’d seen him, standing there in that bar. Now he was standing outside her apartment in Brooklyn, wearing neat slacks and a white button-down that gave her flashbacks to their time in the desert, when he’d worn his shirt sleeves rolled above his elbows and his skin had glistened in the sun.