Сьюзен Мэллери - The Sheik & the Princess in Waiting

He reminded himself she did not know, nor would she be affected if she did. She’d made her feelings clear six years ago and there was no reason to think they would have changed.

Only twelve more days, he told himself. He could survive that, especially if he avoided her.

He reached the business wing and asked his assistant to come into his office. When the young man was seated, Reyhan pulled out his schedule. He was about to find himself very, very busy.

Emma restlessly wandered around the suite. She might be an honored guest of the king, but she wasn’t sure what that meant in terms of what she could and could not do. Were there self-guided tours of the palace? The maid had disappeared and she didn’t know who else to ask. The last thing she wanted was to wander into some forbidden room and find herself at the wrong end of a pointy sword.

She stared at the phone and wondered what would happen if she picked it up. Did the palace have an operator? In movies, the White House always did, and the palace was at least twice as big. Wasn’t an operator required?

A knock on the suite’s main door saved her from finding out. For a split second, her heart fluttered in anticipation. Reyhan? Had his meeting ended early and had he decided to return to speak with her? Had…

She pulled open the door and tried not to look disappointed when she saw Cleo standing there. The petite blonde had a baby in her arms.

“Remember me?” Cleo asked. “We met last night.”

“Of course,” Emma said with a smile. “You came to rescue me.”

Cleo grinned. “Someone had to. These princes,” she said, shaking her head. “They have no idea how intimidating they can be, and between you and me, we can’t ever let them know.”

She walked into the suite and held out her daughter. “This is Calah. I’m going to say ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ and I really need you to agree with me. I know, I know. Every mother thinks her baby is beautiful. I hate being a cliché, but there it is.”

Emma glanced at the sleeping baby. “She is beautiful. You and your husband are going to have to beat boys off with a stick.”

“I suspect Sadik will just glare menacingly and that will be enough.” Cleo plopped down on the sofa and held out the baby. “Are you a cuddler or do infants make you uneasy?”

Emma sat next to her and took Calah in her arms. “I love holding babies. I’m a delivery room nurse so I’m around newborns all the time. It’s a great specialty and I love it, but every now and then I get the urge to move to pediatrics.”

Cleo’s eyebrows arched. “Ah, so you love children. Does Reyhan know?”

“I don’t think so.” The information would hardly matter. He might want heirs but not with her.

“Interesting. So tell me everything about your life.”

Emma gently rocked the baby and breathed in the sweet scent of her. “There’s not much to tell. I’m a nurse, I live in Dallas and now I’m here. But what about you? How did you come to be here, and married to a prince?”

Cleo drew her feet up and leaned back against the sofa. “Well, I already told you I’m from Spokane. I grew up dirt-poor and without much family. Eventually I went into the foster care system, which turned out to be a good thing because I got to meet Zara. She was the daughter of the woman who took me in. Anyway, we became good friends, then practically sisters. Years after her mother had died, Zara went through her things and found these letters to her mother from the king of Bahania.”

Emma stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He’d met her when she’d been a dancer and he’d fallen for her big-time. Apparently theirs was a great love, but Zara’s mom knew it would never last so she bailed without telling him.”

“How sad,” Emma said.

“I agree. I mean she could have tried to make it work. Anyway, Zara found the letters and the two of us headed over here to see if the king really was her father. And he was.”

“That must have been a shock for both of them.”

“It was. I mean viola`, instant princess. She also met Rafe, who is American but also a sheik, and she married him—but that is a more complicated story.”

Emma laughed. “Oh, right. Because this one isn’t. So you stayed with Zara and then married Prince Sadik?”

“Not exactly. He and I—well, it was sort of spontaneous combustion. But he was a prince and I worked at a copy store. I mean until I’d come to Bahania I’d never been anywhere. I knew I wasn’t princess material. So I went home. But I had to come back for Zara’s wedding to Rafe, and I was pregnant and I didn’t want anyone to know. The king found out, then Sadik, then we got married, but he wouldn’t admit he loved me and it was horrible, but he came to his senses and now we’re blissfully happy.”

Emma didn’t know what to say. “That’s an amazing story.”

Cleo grinned. “I know. I can’t wait until Calah is old enough to hear the romantic bits. I won’t tell her about getting pregnant or anything.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I should warn you. Both Zara and Sabrina are pregnant. I think there’s something in the water, so don’t drink anything but bottled.” She glanced at her daughter. “Unless you want one of your own.”

Emma was dealing with enough changes right now, although a child…She shook off the thought. No point in going there. Not now.

“I don’t think this is a good time for me,” she said. “Plus there’s the whole needing-a-man thing.”

“Is this where I point out that you have a husband?”

One who had made it plain he’d found her anything but interesting in bed? “No, thanks.”

Cleo nodded. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I won’t think it. So how did you and Reyhan meet?”

“It was at college. My first semester.” Those days felt like a lifetime ago. “I was a brand-new freshman—technically an adult, but not emotionally. Not even close.” She shrugged. “I’m the only child of older parents. They’d given up on ever having children when I came along. I was a surprise, but a happy one. My parents were so thrilled, they were determined to keep me safe no matter what. Which meant keeping me sheltered. It took my entire senior year of high school to convince them to let me go to a college that required me living a couple hundred miles away.”

“Reyhan’s older, right?” Cleo asked. “You couldn’t have had a class together.”

“We didn’t. I was socially backward, and I would never have had the courage to talk to an actual man. I was walking home from the library when a couple of drunk guys started hassling me. I’m sure it was harmless, but I was too inexperienced to know what to do. I panicked and started pleading with them, which they found pretty funny. I was terrified and took off running. I ran smack into Reyhan. My books went flying, I’m sure I screamed and it was a mess. By the time it was sorted out, the guys were long gone and I was convinced Reyhan had rescued me from certain death.”

Cleo sighed. “That sounds romantic.”

Emma hadn’t thought of it in that way. “I thought he was handsome and mysterious. Very attractive, of course. I was stunned when he asked me out.” She shifted the baby, taking more of her weight on her lap.

“But you said yes.”

“Would you have said anything else?”

“Probably not. The rescue would be really tough to ignore. It’s very princely.” She laughed. “I say that so calmly, but I’m used to Sadik being royal now. At the beginning it was a big deal to me.”

“Do you miss your old life?”

“Not even for a minute. Not just because this is so much nicer—which it is. But because of Sadik. I love him.” Her dark blue eyes glowed with affection. “He makes me insane, but that’s okay. I drive him crazy, too. Besides, being different keeps things interesting. And he loves me.” She glanced at Emma. “Handsome, arrogant prince types may be hard to tame, but when they love, it’s with every part of themselves.”

Emma fought against a surge of envy. She had always wanted to be loved like that by a man. It wasn’t that her parents hadn’t cared for her, they had. But their love had been about protecting her from a difficult and frightening world. She’d always wanted just to be loved for herself.

Cleo shrugged. “Okay, I get carried away. That’s part of my charm. So enough about me and my past. Are you excited about living in the palace?”

“It should be an interesting vacation. At least that’s how I’m trying to look at it.”

“Your one chance to be a princess?”

“Something like that.”

Cleo grinned. “What if you find you like it so much, you want to stay?”

“Not an option. As soon as my two weeks are up, I’m heading back to Dallas.” And her regularly scheduled life. There was nothing for her here in Bahania. She ignored the little voice inside that whispered there wasn’t much for her back in Dallas, either.

R eyhan had hoped the large palace would provide enough room for him to avoid Emma, but he had not taken his father’s need to meddle into account. Now that the king had passed control of much of the day-to-day details of the country on to his sons, he had far too much free time to plan ways to torment them. His newest strategy began with an invitation for both Reyhan and Emma to join him for dinner.

Reyhan studied the casually worded e-mail and knew the phrase “if it’s convenient” was there for show. Should Reyhan protest it was not convenient, his father would change the request to an order. Defying one’s father was easily accomplished. Refusing the king was another matter, especially when Reyhan needed the monarch’s agreement to the divorce.

Which was why he found himself walking toward his father’s private quarters that evening, trying not to think about how he would survive several hours in Emma’s company.

Before she had arrived, he had nearly convinced himself that everything was different. That he no longer had feelings for her, and even if he did, that she was not the same woman. But a few minutes with her had told him that not only did she still have that ultimate power over him, she had somehow retained the gentle sweetness that had first drawn him to her.

When he reached his father’s suite, he squared his shoulders. He was Prince Reyhan of Bahania. Royal, powerful and without weakness. He would survive this meeting and any others. He would endure and in the end, Emma would be out of his life forever.

“My son,” his father said happily as Reyhan walked into the main salon. “How good to see you.”

“And you, my father.”

The king’s cheer warned Reyhan that his father might have a trick or two coming during the dinner and that he would be wise to stay alert.

He crossed to the wet bar and poured himself a Scotch, then walked to the large sofa facing the French doors leading to the balcony. Only one cat lay on a center cushion. Reyhan avoided it as he sat down.

“Emma should be here shortly,” his father said, stroking the large Persian draped across his lap.

Reyhan had offered to escort her himself, but the king had said he preferred to speak with his son privately first. Now Reyhan waited patiently.

“Your wife is a very pretty young woman,” his father said.

Reyhan nodded. He never thought of Emma as “his wife.” If he had, he would have claimed her, despite her wishes to be as far away from him as possible. He would have wanted to have her, take her, be with her. It had been safer for them both to be on opposite sides of the planet. Literally. He’d forced himself to think of her only on rare occasions, usually at night, when he couldn’t sleep and the sounds of the Arabian Sea had echoed with her soft voice.