Not to mention his trust in her integrity.
She sighed when he did not answer. “So, we somehow organize a momentous wedding while the world watches in two months time.”
“Just so.”
Apparently he was as willing to move their discussion forward as she was. There was simply no point in rehashing old arguments. Somehow, she would prove to him that she had his best interests at heart. And maybe, in the same space, she would learn to accept that he felt the same.
He’d certainly done his best to protect her and allow her what he thought she needed for happiness. Perhaps, in his mind, the years'-long wait had been as much for her benefit as his.
Moreover, he’d said repeatedly that he believed in fidelity in marriage. Making their engagement official would have required him breaking things off with Elsa. And while it hurt that he had not wanted to do so, Angele thought that Zahir had deserved his slice of happiness not related to his duty or role as future king.
Unfortunately for him, things had ended badly and unquestionably painfully.
If Angele could not be that moment out of time for him, she would show him she could be more. That she, Angele bin Cemal al Jawhar, could be a source of joy in his everyday life.
She would start now, by helping to plan the wedding with grace and as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I think we need to call in the experts.”
“A wedding planner? The PR department? Our palace event coordinator?” he asked while making notes on his phone.
“All of the above, I’m sure. But I was thinking the queens and my mother. Nobody throws a party like
Lou-Belia.”
Zahir paused and looked up, his gray gaze fixed on her. “I thought you did not wish to speak with your parents this evening.”
“There’s no point in putting it off.” And some very good reasons not to, the chief among that Angele was not a naturally selfish person. “Mom will be hurt if I don’t call her tonight, but we’ll want to coordinate a conference call with her and the queens for tomorrow.”
The buzzer sounded again.
“Impeccable timing,” she said, putting on her game face and getting up to answer the summons, sure it was her parents showing up to share in the happy news.
Zahir’s bodyguard beat her to it and Zahir asked, “Why do you always assume it is your mother when the buzzer sounds?”
“You honestly think King Malik has not already called my father?” she asked in response.
“Most assuredly, but are your parents not on the list of approved visitors for the doorman?”
“Of course, but it’s policy for the doorman to buzz me to let me know I have visitors even if he doesn’t need my approval to let them on the elevators.”
“I see. It is very different than living in a royal palace.”
“Yes, it is, but you’ve stayed in hotels.” “No one gets to me until they’ve been through at least two layers of security. There are no buzzers in my life.”
Not sure he had been joking, Angele laughed anyway. They might have been raised as close as family, but their lives were entirely unrelated in so many ways.
A few moments later the door opened to reveal her obstetrician, not her parents.
Angele gasped as the older woman with salt-and-pepper hair cut in a short stylish look came into the living room. “You make house calls?”
Dr. Shirley gave Zahir a measured look before turning back to Angele. “In your case, I do, apparently.”
“What did you do?” Angele demanded of Zahir.
“I did not conscript her, I assure you.”
Dr. Shirley gave him another strange look. “No, he merely had someone in the White House give me a call and make the request.”
“The White House?” Angele asked in a voice that nearly failed her.
“Yep, it even came up on my caller ID that way. Pretty crazy.” Dr. Shirley sounded somewhere between annoyed and awed. “I’ve never been contacted by my local congressman, much less a White House lackey.”
“What did he say?” Angele asked with unconcealed fascination. She’d never spoken to anyone from the White House, either, though she knew Zahir had attended State dinners there.
“That in the interest of Foreign Relations, I should consider making a personal call on you this evening.”
“That’s wild.”
The other woman laughed. “I thought so, too. Apparently the father of your baby is quite worried about your ongoing nausea.”
Worried enough to make a Federal case out of it, literally.
Angele stored away the warmth that made her feel and said, “I thought we would look into the nausea medication tomorrow.”
“Why wait?” Dr. Shirley said, tongue so obviously firmly in cheek. “I’ve got a prepared hypodermic in my bag.”
“You’re getting a kick out of this,” Angele accused. “Yes, I think I am.”
Angele shook her head and then asked, “It won’t hurt the baby? You’re sure?”
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t give you anything that might harm your baby, but I’d like to try the acupressure band to begin with. If that doesn’t work, there is an acustimulation device that is a step up, but it can cause minor skin irritation. And of course, I’d like to give you a shot of Vitamin B6 right now.”
“Will that make me tired?” Angele asked, remembering her conversation with Zahir.
“No, though I recommend taking these sleeping pills in conjunction with Vitamin B6 at night before going to bed.” Dr. Shirley handed Angele a familiar box. “They’re approved for use during pregnancy and enhance the antinausea effects of the B6.”
“When my mom takes those, she’s usually pretty tired for a good part of the next day.”
Dr. Shirley shrugged. “It happens. Depending on the dosage and your response to it, daytime sleepiness can result.”
“I’ve got a lot of planning to do. I can’t afford to be sleepy all day.”
“Your health is of utmost importance.” Zahir’s tone brooked no argument.
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