He sounded so calm. “You’re not upset?”
“No.” He took her hand. “Come on. Let us explore, as Fatima suggested. Based on all I see here, an infant needs far more than his size suggests.”
She thought about pointing out all the potentials for disaster, but knew Qadir would understand them far better than she. If he could be calm about this, then she could, too.
“Just to be clear,” she told him. “I’m having a girl.”
“You are confident about that?”
“Yes. I sense my body would reject boy sperm.”
“Then Jon is weak for not overpowering you.”
“Or sensible for not trying.”
They walked around the various displays. One showed a room done in trains, with everything from an adorable locomotive border print to stuffed train pillows. There was also a car room and one done totally in pink with a ballerina motif.
“If you’re having a girl,” Qadir said, pointing at the dancer.
Maggie glared at him. “Don’t make me hit you in public.”
“You are not as tough as you think.”
“Cheap talk while you’re safely around other people.”
He smiled slowly. “You do not intimidate me in any way, Maggie. We both know how easily I could take you.”
She wasn’t sure if he was referring to his superior strength or the way her body responded every time he touched her and she wasn’t sure it mattered. He was right—he could take her without breaking a sweat. The only news in that was how much she wanted him to.
“Maybe this is better,” he said, pointing to a display done in shades of yellow. The teddy bear theme wasn’t too sweet and she liked the border print with the teddy bears playing different sports.
“I could live with this,” she said, walking around the area, touching the crib and running her hands across the top of the dresser. “The yellow is nice. I’m not a huge fan of green and we all know I’m not doing a pink-on-pink room.”
“You’re going to have some explaining to do if the child is male.”
She smiled. “I know, but I’ll be very smug when it’s a girl.”
“I would have sons.”
“Oh, please. Is this also a prince thing?”
“No. Biology. My aunt is the only female child born in several generations.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” But this wasn’t Qadir’s baby, so she didn’t have to worry.
They wandered through the rest of the store. Maggie started to hyperventilate when they stopped in front of a wall of baby items and she had no idea what they were for.
“Do they come with instructions?” she asked in a whisper.
“I am sure they do.”
She pointed to a small container with a cord and a plug. “A baby wipe heater? Their wipes have to be heated?” She hadn’t known that. What if there was a power outage and the wipes were cold? Would that hurt the baby?
Panic filled her. “I can’t do this,” she said, placing her hand on her stomach. “I’m sorry, but I really, really can’t do this. I don’t know how. I’ll do a lousy job. What if I don’t like children?”
Qadir put his hand on her shoulder. “You will be fine.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me hysterical. You don’t actually know.”
“I know you are intelligent and caring and you will love your child. What else matters?”
“Heated baby wipes, for one thing. What else don’t I know?”
“You will learn as you go.”
“Maybe. But what if I don’t? What if my child is the only one with a cold butt?”
His mouth twitched. She balled up her fist and socked him in the arm. “You’d better not be laughing at me.”
He chuckled, then pulled her against him and kissed her. His mouth brushed hers once, twice, then he released her.
“You are a unique woman,” he told her.
“Uniquely unqualified to be a mother.”
He took her hand and led her to the rows of books. “If you do not know what to do, you can learn about it.”
“Oh, right. Books.” She picked up one and scanned the title. “I need one for women who have no experience with children. Something like—‘You’ve never had a baby before, but that’s okay.’ Do you see that title?”
He held up several that weren’t even close, but she grabbed them all. Something to fill her nights, she thought.
Qadir insisted on paying for the books—which was only going to fuel speculation, she thought as they left. When they were back in his car, she turned to him.
“Thank you for being so nice,” she said. “You’re really easy to be around.”
“You are, as well,” he told her. “I enjoyed our outing.”
“Even though there’s going to be an article or two in the paper tomorrow.”
“Even though.”
She told herself to say something else, to look away, to make a joke. But she couldn’t. She seemed caught up in his gaze, in the power of the man. Breathing was difficult and thinking was impossible. What on earth was wrong with her?
“You were brilliant,” Maggie told Victoria as they walked back to their rooms. “I had no idea what to get a princess for her wedding shower. The lingerie was beautiful.”
Victoria had suggested they go in together for Kayleen’s present and had offered to do the shopping.