Irresistibly Dashing

by Victoria Arabpour Pinder

  Sarah thought back to what Beau’s father might say to this and nodded. “I am happy your people have a choice and while I need time, I do know the Bentleys care deeply about people and their family. They are all very close.”

  “Family is something to cherish and value.” Fatima laughed like she hoped Sarah might join her as she said, “But fixing the unrest and poverty that is so rampant here would be a blessing and the best that all of us hope for.”

  Money wasn’t why she'd married Beau and it wasn’t why she stuck it out now. Sarah let someone fasten jewels around her neck and then met Fatima’s gaze without laughing at all. “I don’t know the future for anyone, including myself, but until I met and married my husband, I never had so much.”

  Fatima, finished, gathered her polish and brushes. “It is obvious that he loves you. We all heard him tell you.” She cleaned up the desk so there was no trace of polish to be seen as she nodded and said, “Have fun, Your Highness.”

  They saw or heard? Her heart raced. Were the women all waiting outside the door as she and Beau… right. She needed to leave this palace, fast.

  All her life she’d been invisible and now people were listening and waiting on every word.

  Did they all know what she and Beau had done earlier?

  Her face was hot at the question. Sarah stood tall and smoothed her dress over her hip. “So, am I presentable for this party to show that the Bentleys care about the upper classes as well as the working poor?”

  “Just enjoy yourself.”

  She swallowed and checked herself in the mirror. Her updo was so fancy it was like going to her own wedding if it hadn’t been in the horrible prison, only now she had emeralds and citrines pinned to curls she’d never be able to create on her own. The orange and green silk veil was pinned in a way that her hair style was seen but not seen.

  Right now, today, she needed to pretend, but all she wanted to do was run. She looked down at the strappy orange heels on her feet. There would be no running. Sarah kept her head high and left her bedroom--a possible Bentley princess.

  Guards escorted her down the stairs, too Beau. She held the banister with one hand, and used the other to ensure the veil that floated behind her didn’t get stuck in her dress or shoes.

  At the bottom step, she saw her husband, now in a suit tailored just for him. He walked to her and bowed like he had earlier when they were alone. Her lips ached to kiss him, but she couldn’t. She glanced around the vaulted ceilings of the palace and wished they were alone as she said, “I missed you.”

  They entered the side room where he’d been waiting and she saw it was an office. He closed the door as she said, “We’re hoping for your father to win, but I was thinking…”

  She waited for the door to click closed. Beau asked, “Yes?”

  Sarah met his gaze and said, “I’d like to go home. Immediately after the party, but we can return to Hoskell soon and ensure reforms are in place to help if he wins. But tonight, I want to go…”

  “Then we’ll head to the airport right after we make our rounds and meet the people we need to meet to support my father.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she pressed her hands to her stomach. “No asking me why?”

  He winked at her and nodded. “I was going to ask in a minute.”

  Her ears burned. Maybe she was overreacting but she didn’t want to live under a microscope where servants listened to her, them, all the time. “Well, I do enjoy the teas with the other wives. And I like having closed doors without servants listening.”

  His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  She walked over to him but kept her voice down. “I think people are listening to us.”

  He didn’t argue. “Why?”

  Her pulse still zipped, but she said fast, “Something one of the servants said. Next time we… go to bed, I’d like for us to be alone.”

  His lips curled into a smile that showed off those dimples. “So there is a next time?”

  What if servants were right outside the doors, right now? The question ran in her mind as she met Beau’s smile. She blinked and didn’t understand his question so her face grew serious as she asked, “Isn’t there?”

  He kissed her forehead and his touch sent a shock through her as she quickly checked the double doors were closed as he said, “Relax. Every night works for me. I don’t want to pressure you.”

  Relax wasn’t something she could do here. She shook her head to let him know that she needed to go and go now to disappear. “You do the opposite, Beau. But in giving me all these choices, sometimes I’m overwhelmed. I’m not used to people listening to me.”

  He reached down and took her hands. “We’ll go to the party, do our duty and then head right to the airplane. Can you smile for the next hour and I promise we’ll leave?”

  They had come here to show they were a family unit and supportive of his father’s claims to the throne as well as ensure Mariam was arrested. She’d known about this dance. And if they were leaving directly afterward, she’d be fine. She ignored the strum in her veins and nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

  She strode beside him as he opened the door and they both stepped into ballroom.

  Not holding his hand but being completely in sync next to him was strange. She’d never tried to hold anyone’s hand ever, but now that she couldn’t, and it was Beau’s hand, the loss hurt.

  They entered and four hundred or more people stared at them as they made their way to the middle of the room. Her skin stung like ants decided to party up and down her arms and legs, leaving her with a pins and needles sensation. She rubbed her silk sleeves and hugged herself. “So what do we do? Everyone is staring at us?”

  He held out his hands in a frame like he had when they were alone and then said, “We dance.”

  She froze. Seriously? Touching was forbidden so she blinked and asked, “What?”

  He winked and wrapped his arm around her back igniting awareness of him through her dress as he asked her, “Did you ever watch a princess cartoon or show as a child on TV?”

  A cartoon was not a palace in Hoskell. The closest she could think of might have been Aladdin, but even then there was no ballroom. She locked her hands in his and prayed she didn't trip. “We didn’t have a TV, but I watched in school.”

  He led her around and she was thankful that he knew what to do. No one had taught her ballroom anything, but she followed his steps as he said, “Okay. Protocol is that nobody else can dance until we start.”

  She relaxed and met his gaze as her ears now registered people talking and laughing. The violin sounded as she continued to swirl with him around the floor. “There is that orchestra you were going to summon earlier.”

  That dimple of his showed as he said, “I knew they were already here in the palace.”

  For a moment she was alone with him, like they were in a cloud, just the two of them where they might land back on that bed they’d left.

  Then the blue and white walls and mirrors and people and music all returned at once. She sucked in her bottom lip, unable to explain her imagination. “Others are dancing now.”

  He bowed as the song ended like he was one with the music, his hand on his chest. “We need to finish circling the room, shake everyone’s hand, and then we can get whatever we'd like to eat and return to the airplane.”

  Her heart soared as he walked beside her toward the crowd. She asked, “It’s fueled?”

  “Yes.” He stayed in step with her though they couldn’t touch publicly now as they headed through the crowd toward the buffet. “I had it prepared in case we chose to follow the original plan. First, we have to open the main dishes and take a few bites. Once people are free to eat, we’re done with the ceremonial portion.”

  Good. This meant they had to say hello to a few officials and then they were free to go. She ignored her beating heart as he handed her a plate. “Beau?”

  “Yeah?” He offered her a raspberry salad option.

  She ad
ded dressing to his plate as well as hers as she said, “Maybe you and I can work. I really want us to….”

  Her face was probably as red as the raspberries on her plate.

  He offered a dinner roll and whispered, “That’s more than I hoped for.”

  Good. Soon they’d be alone. Soon they’d be flying back to Miami and maybe, they could work out. She hoped so too as she pointed toward the meat stew with beans and greens.

  The food was delicious here, but time alone with Beau had an irresistible call to her right now. And her body craved him, far more than food.

  While he hadn’t overseen Mariam’s arrest, Beau had to trust the chief of police’s promise. If his father won, Hussein would want to be in his family’s good graces. And if his father lost, it was better to be far away.

  The party might have been a symbol for what their future life was like.

  Besides, Sarah wanted to leave, and he wanted to please her. Beau checked his phone for official messages as he walked next to Sarah and headed toward the private plane on the runway.

  They’d quickly changed back into the clothes they’d worn on arrival, so Sarah was in her white outfit with a shawl to cover her bare arms, and he was in black jeans with a polo shirt.

  Her tight posture made it clear that she didn’t want to stay at the palace. Were the servants being around the only reason?

  The lack of cuddling after making love made his stomach knot. If she hadn’t jumped out of bed and they hadn’t had the party, perhaps he’d have… okay he couldn’t let his imagination take hold of what more he’d do for Sarah who had obviously never enjoyed herself physically.

  He let her climb ahead of him on the stairs and she dashed straight for the sitting area of the plane. The crew sealed the doors and returned to their places as she feasted on grapes and fruit juice. She must have used up her energy in bed and was refueling as they'd just had dinner.

  He stepped into the cockpit and told the pilot to ready for takeoff, and then joined her. She handed him a pineapple strawberry smoothie and he patted her knee, glad that they were free to touch as they wished. “Thanks. Now, are we going to Miami, or taking that vacation in Greece you wanted?”

  She sighed and relaxed in her seat. “I just want to go to Miami for now.”

  His eyebrow lifted. He waited for a fraction of a second to study her, but her face was calm and relaxed. His fingers traced the cotton of her pantleg as he asked, “You’re sure?”

  She nodded and sipped her juice. The sound of suction as the doors closing echoed around them. “Absolutely.”

  So, home. He relaxed too.

  She put her glass down and leaned closer to him. The smell of her lavender shampoo hit him hard. “Now that the doors are closed, tell me what happened with the files you handed over to the police as proof of Mariam's guilt?”

  Had she seen him checking his phone? He shifted though he knew his phone was still in his back pocket. Beau sat forward, put his glass down beside hers and said, “The officer just emailed that my aunt has been arrested.”

  Her still-painted red lips captured his attention as she said, “That's great. No big shoot-out. No crazy person making a scene. You’re free, Beau.”

  Free would mean he’d trust following his instincts that she’d stay with him, and he’d no longer have worries of any known enemy coming after him or the Bentley’s anymore. But nothing was ever guaranteed, and it was best to get Sarah out of any danger in case something happened with his aunt’s arrest.

  His skin buzzed as he thought about Mariam helping her son as he imagined some woman with connections now after them because of Arman like in some movie as he said, “It’s too easy.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she asked, “Don't you trust the officials?”

  Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. But for months his family had labored for this all to be over and worked hard overcoming adversity. So, for the woman that sent them into prison and killed his aunt and uncle… the end, if this was really truly over, had been way too easy.

  He tapped his fingers to his palm. “I hope everything is over. No need for further revenge. We’d be safe to go outside again. I’d love nothing more.”

  She took his hand and held it. “But?”

  His gaze landed on her shoulder where the shawl fell, revealing her bare arms.

  Heading back to Miami meant he’d see all of her again. His body hardened at the thought. “I don’t know. Let’s focus on you. You wanted to leave fast because you didn’t want an audience to know what we do, privately. So, let's go home and get on with our lives together.”

  Her lips parted and her intake of breath clearly meant he’d shocked her. “I’m scared, though.”

  If he won her love, then he didn’t need an epic battle where he died in the end, like he’d imagined his entire life. “Of what?”

  She traced his chest and the rough hair on his jaw from not being able to shave before they'd left. “I never had anyone treat me with love and respect and I’m afraid I’ll screw everything up when I want to be with you. I’m not very good at being open and trusting.”

  Even better. He slid his hand under her leg and tickled the back of her knee. “So the staff at the palace only amplified your insecurities?”

  She sighed and repositioned herself to half-lay on the seats horizontally so he could caress her legs. “I don’t like thinking people were at our door.”

  Sarah had been embarrassed by the audience, which he understood. Somehow the blood of his ancestors must have whispered to his soul that his room was private enough and servants didn’t matter.

  Beau felt a vibration in his back pocket. He scooted up, retrieved his phone and saw the pilot from the cockpit was calling. He lifted a finger and said, “Excuse me one moment.” He called instead of getting up and leaving Sarah. “Why haven’t we taxied off?”

  His pilot said, “We’re getting clearance, Your Highness. It should just be a moment.”

  His father’s staff had always referred to them as royalty, but now he wondered just how many people thought of him as royal. The constant referral from the staff only indicated their political position, not the countries. Soon they’d get that number too, but not now. “Great. But why did you call?”

  “That was the new system Navid set up for security,” the pilot explained. “You were getting a message from the palace. The system calls and then sends it as a text.”

  Perhaps whoever sent the message didn’t have his direct phone number so they used the official numbers?

  And then as if on command, his phone beeped. He hung up with the pilot and read Mariam’s hearing is happening, now.

  Hussein sent the message and he must not have his personal number, which was why he’d sent the email earlier. He put the phone back in his pocket and Sarah’s brown eyes blazed with concern. “Are you worried something might stop us from leaving?”

  “The opposite. All is well.” What if he actually did live and get a happily-ever-after? He’d never really thought it possible. Part of the reason loving Sarah was easy was because he knew without a doubt she’d carry on and live her life. Beau kissed her wrist and said, “I… I don’t want to think that. Let’s get back on topic.”

  Her eyes batted at him and her cheeks were redder as she asked, “Which was?”

  The return to Miami would take hours. Maybe they could make use of this time--no one would interrupt them in the air. “How you want us to be alone?”

  She took off her veil and pushed her brown hair behind her ears and placed it next to the grapes as she said, “When Fatima said she heard you tell me you loved me, my heart raced.”

  The name didn’t register. Yes, he’d had a nanny when he was a boy with that name, but he’d not seen her in years and he’d not introduced her to Sarah so he asked, “Who is Fatima?”

  Her lips quirked. “The girl doing my nails. She said they all heard you.”

  The stress on her word was clearly her problem, but he tilted his head and asked, “I don
’t understand.”

  She sucked in her painted lip as the plane’s engines turned on. “I don’t want an audience. I just want to be alone, with you.”

  And then the plane engines powered down.

  “I-” Maybe there was an electrical problem. He took out his phone again as he said, “Wait one second, Sarah.” He dialed the pilot as he asked, “What’s going on?”

  The pilot said, “Sire, your presence is being requested on the radio, from the palace.”

  His father had once said he'd left the country suddenly with his mother and older brothers the day he'd given up the throne, and piled all of the family in one of his planes. He'd had the pilots schedule a diplomatic tour of a nearby city and then changed the direction midair to get them to America. His father had followed his intuition to leave then and he wondered if he should do the same thing.

  The thought was instinctual, even as he doubted that the trick would work twice. “Let me speak.”

  Then the palace secretary he’d barely met once came on air and said, “Hello, Your Highness?”

  “Yes,” Beau said and saw Sarah’s big eyes as she gazed at him in silence.

  He needed to get her out of here and keep her safe.

  The man on the phone said, “Your Highness, your aunt requests your presence at her hearing.”

  The police hadn’t mentioned the possibility at the party. “My presence?”

  “She is a member of the royal family. If the country reverts to a kingdom she would have that right.”

  “But it’s not a kingdom right now,” he said, like that was a reason to get the plane in the air and keep Sarah out of harm. “Are we required to be there in that instance?”

  The palace secretary didn’t respond immediately, then said, “No. Not yet, however the chances for your father to win-”

  “Give me one minute,” he interrupted and Googled protocol as he said, “I’ll speak to my father.”

  He hung up and called his father but he didn’t answer. Luckily his family had a database on protocol that his father had spent years creating in case any of them ever took his throne.