Page 100 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

I clear my throat to disguise the thought. Softer feelings aren’t my strong suit. Certain emotions are easier to handle: desire, anger, joy. I can work with those. Love requires a deeper surrender.

“What do you want to do first?”

I check my watch to see if there’s still time for a ride before lunch. “There’s a stable. Want to see it?”

“Why do you look nervous?”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. Maybe we haven’t lived together for long, but in these months of marriage, I’ve become an expert on my sheikh.” She smiles.

“You’ve been different lately. Like you’re slipping through my fingers.”

“Slipping away? No. I don’t want to be anywhere far from you.” She rises on her toes to kiss me.

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Can we go to the kitchen first? I’m starving.”

“You are? You didn’t eat a thing on the flight.”

“Yes, but now I’m starving.”

I lace our fingers and ask the butler where we can eat. The man looks ready to faint when Adeela dismisses him—and the rest of the staff—saying she’ll make our snack herself.

“Everything okay?” I ask minutes later, watching her eat a sandwich stuffed with a bizarre mix of scrambled eggs and strawberry jam.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t want one?” she asks, licking her fingers, clearly delighted.

“Absolutely,” I reply, trying not to grimace. “I’m just glad you’re eating.”

“It’s been like this in the mornings lately.”

“No appetite?”

“No, nausea. I can only eat around noon.”

Then, out of nowhere, she sets the sandwich down and starts crying.

“Adeela, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“We broke our agreement!”

My body turns to ice.

She cheated on me?

“How?”

“You’re angry.”

I can’t deny it. “Answer me.”

She wipes her tears, but they fall again immediately. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“And that’s . . . bad?” I ask, surprised by how calm I sound.

“Isn’t it?”