by Allen, Jewel
The little sliver of coastline below wasn’t like a tropical beach. Here, the tides stirred the sand restlessly, creating a cloudy grayness in the water. But it had a wild beauty to it that made Reese’s heart leap as though she recognized herself in it.
Danger. Tricky navigation. But if you skirted the rocks enough, the payoff was great.
“That’s a long ways to go down and play,” she said.
“But we did, Jadda and me. She took me and my siblings down to that beach, and I lived many adventures.”
“How many siblings?”
“Six. Four brothers and two sisters.”
“Were they at your party?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “They were somewhere else that night. Do you have any siblings besides your brother?”
“No, just the one, Quinn. He lives in Italy. In a heavenly villa.” She smiled.
“That’s right.” He stared at her, his gaze intense, and then urged, “Come meet my Jadda. She’s waiting.”
Jadda was tiny, coming up only to Reese’s chest. She wore a white veil over her hair, and her face was lined with age. But her eyes were kind and intelligent. Reese could see how the influence of this woman could affect a prince like Samir. She was glad. Monarchs needed positive influences. Millions of people depended on them.
Jadda spoke in Arabic, and Reese glanced at Samir helplessly. He stood apart, just watching, and broke out in a smile.
“Do you speak French?” he asked Reese.
“Oui,” Reese said, “un petit peu.”
In relatively laborious French, Jadda and Reese talked. Cursory phrases and pleasantries. At the end of their little conversation, Jadda turned to Samir and said something in Arabic.
Reese turned curiously to Samir.
“She says she likes you,” Samir said. “Which is a huge compliment. She doesn’t like all the girls I bring to see her.”
Reese wondered how many girls he’d brought to her before.
It didn’t matter. Only that he would fall for her and ask for her hand in marriage.
Then the engagement jewels would be hers.
But she was getting ahead of herself.
Jadda motioned for her to sit down on a worn but thick cloth on a hard sofa, no translation needed. An older hunched-over man who Reese assumed was her husband smiled but hung back on a seat by the window.
There was a flurry of movement—a middle-aged woman bringing out a tray of little cups, bitter coffee poured from a plain white teapot, and Jadda talking to Samir in a fond, scolding way.
Samir winced and then laughed, his brow clearing and his face turning boyish. Reese watched them over the rim of her cup, amused at Samir’s being reduced to a naughty boy. Samir caught her looking, locking his glance with hers. Her hand stilled in the act of raising the cup to her lips, the trace of bitterness in the coffee pooling in her mouth. The coffee was gone, but she was feeling parched once again, her throat aching for a cool drink. Especially since the liquid had been thick and hardly thirst-quenching.
He raised his cup to his own lips, and she could only stare. They sat far apart across the room, but it felt as though his stare had human properties, lingering over her cheeks that were warming.
Jadda said something and then pointed at a door. Samir set down his cup and stood, a man comfortable in his own skin, earthy in a raw way with his button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows and his slightly rumpled slacks. He could have been a bouncer at a nightclub or someone who had come to fix pipes. Not one who put on airs. His eyes glimmered with intelligence and something else, almost a watchful amusement as though Reese were a contestant in a game in which only he knew the rules.
“You’re invited to sit on their swing on the shaded back porch,” he said as he pulled the door open, revealing the ocean view as it swung.
With dazed anticipation, she stood and slipped out into the promised shade. It wasn’t as pretty as Italy’s beaches. This part of the Mediterranean was meant for fishing, not lying out on yachts. But somehow, it was beautiful in its own way, much like how Samir was—raw and powerful.
Mesmerizing.
Her throat ached again, but this time it had nothing to do with the coffee but rather the man who stood like a magician to the side, unveiling a trick. He watched her as though to gauge her approval. He needn’t worry; she could be transparent about pleasure, and this scene was a sleight of hand that left her in a heightened sense of amazement.
She moved eagerly to the rail and leaned out, the shade dulling the heat. But make no mistake, this was still the desert, and the sun lorded over the harsh landscape like a pompous fief.
The air smelled sweet like honey. Roses and other flowers tumbled in a helter-skelter fashion over a wall and into a hollowed out flower bed below.
His trick here was the ocean, unadulterated except for trails left behind by dinghies and bigger fishing boats. On the far horizon, there were a few islands and then a bigger coast hinting at houses cascading like little white boxes on cliff sides.
“That’s Spain across the water,” Samir said.
“And the island in the middle?”
“The Rock of Gibraltar.”
She thought of the ad for the insurance company and smiled. The things she could see in the world, just for traveling.
“Your face is a delight,” he said. “I could see a series of expressions fleeting across it.”
“I was just thinking of how small the world is anymore. I couldn’t have imagined meeting you, say, when I started dating.”
“And how old was that?” he asked.
“Fourteen.” Her voice was soft. Remembering. “I was fourteen when I started dating this boy in my neighborhood.”
“That’s young.”
“Yes.” She winced. “I was young and stupid. But still street-smart. I thought he was the world. He offered marriage.”
“How old was he?”
“I don’t know. Probably twenty-five. He told me he was younger, but later…nothing added up. And not just his age.”
She had said too much. Again, she felt a sense of both danger and safety with Samir. He was making her break rules she had set for herself for her own sanity.
She fell silent and watched the waves crashing against the rocks. The sun was blinding against the surface, hurting her eyes.
“Would you like to swim?” he asked.
She glanced at him, at his interested gaze. She could stop this now. Stop the farce and the fakery and the lead-up to her thievery.
Let Quinn get his jewels some other way. Reese no longer wanted to be party to breaking someone’s heart and letting it out to hang and dry.
But it was just a swim. An innocent thing. She didn’t need to engage. It was a hot day, and a swim would feel good.
She found herself saying yes.
8
Reese was a fascinating creature, giving off conflicting signals.
On the one hand, he knew she was attracted to him. He noted the physical signs—wide eyes, the shallow breath, flared nostrils, heightened color on the cheeks, the way her body turned to him, craving for intimacy.
But on the other, she kept pulling back—that reservation, weighing this invitation as she’d done the others.
And he had hardly even touched her.
Not that he didn’t want to.
In time.
He went in to tell Jadda. She was getting old now, but she still knew him, when he was up to his old tricks.
“She is a keeper, that one,” she said. “She’s different.”
He wanted to talk about Reese. Maybe Jadda could help him figure her out. “Oh?” he replied. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not all over you like the others.”
“We’ve barely met.”
Jadda shook her head. “Doesn’t stop the ones who want to catch the prince.”
“I think she likes me.”
“I think so too. When you aren’t looking, she watches you. And yes, there is a heat
in her eyes.”
“Jadda, still the oracle after all these years.”
She smiled a tired smile that sent him back to his boyhood. “Give your parents my love.”
“Father isn’t doing well.”
Jadda gazed at him and patted his shoulder. “You have been prepared for this moment.”
“A moment I haven’t wanted to come. The work is heavy.”
“That’s why choosing your future princess with care is wise.”
“Do you think she could be the one?”
“You are already thinking in that way?” she asked but without surprise.
“I don’t know. I just know that marriage will be imperative once Father passes. Maybe I should curtail this one.”
“Why? Is there a law against you marrying a foreigner?”
“There will be a special dispensation needed from Parliament.”
“That’s right. Do you like her enough?”
“I’m not in love. I don’t think. I’m too pragmatic for that at this age.”
“A shame, Prince Samir. You could do better.” But she was smiling.
“You’re still spunky in your old age, Jadda.”
“Only with you,” she murmured. “Only with you.”
Samir joined Reese on the balcony. She didn’t turn at his approach, and he wondered what she would do if he stood behind her and put his arms around her waist. Would she throw a fit, or would she welcome him like a flower opening up to the sun?
He walked over to the rail beside her instead.
“I’ll have to grab my swimsuit,” she said.
He took her back to her place, and she changed in the bedroom while he switched to swim shorts in the bathroom. When he was done, he waited outside like a teen boy about to go on his first date.
Nervous. Excited.
When she rejoined him, still wearing her blue dress, a huge bag slung over her shoulder, their gazes met, the air fairly crackling around them.
Taking care not to touch her, he opened the passenger door to let her in. That mantra returned to his head, to not touch her, and yet everything about her made his head spin. Her fragrance reaching his nostrils, a sweet perfume that made him think of a rose. The way her elegant fingers smoothed the fabric of her dress on her lap. Her head, leaning back and owning the passenger seat. She was in control of this situation. She would send him to his knees.
He wanted her.
Not just in a physical way as a man desires a woman, but he wanted her all—he wanted to know everything about her. What made her happy, what made her sad. What she wanted in life. Why she had that little sad edge to her smile and that wariness that surfaced once in a while. Why she didn’t flirt, not that she needed to. He wanted to pursue her, and yet he didn’t need to. A deeper relationship seemed inevitable.
They returned to Jadda’s home and skirted the house. The cut steps had deteriorated over time, but they still served their purpose. Reese took them like an athlete, in decisive steps. He was absorbed in her lithe figure ahead of him below, making her way to the private beach.
Somewhere in the near distance, Jason his bodyguard watched them discreetly. Samir paid him for his discretion.
The surf rolled in with power, cleansing the beach and pulling out to reveal fine sand. Even though it wasn’t like the beaches of the Caribbean, it was still a pretty beach. Especially as it was seemingly devoid of a human’s touch.
Reese stopped ahead of him and pulled her dress over her body to reveal a one-piece rose-colored swimsuit. His breath stilled with desire. She had a slender body, sculpted but still feminine. It wasn’t so much how it looked that attracted him, but her sheer confidence in how she held herself. She didn’t look over her shoulder, again she was without that flirtation that most girls would have plied onto him by now.
Turning, she gazed at him. He was unbuttoning his shirt, and her eyes took in his revealed chest before flicking away. She walked into the water as he shed his shirt to his swim shorts.
The water felt heavenly after the hot sun. Samir walked past the shallows to where the water deepened to his chest and began swimming. He paused and searched for her. She was diving in and out like a mermaid. And then she turned and was grinning.
“This is wonderful,” she said, and then she was off again.
He swam close to her but gave her space. After a few minutes, she surfaced close enough for him to see the droplets on the tips of her lashes and her beautiful face with her short blonde hair pulled back wet.
Heat suffused his chest. Yearning for her.
He dove in and out, shaking the feeling. When he came up again, she was getting out and walking to the beach.
He followed her out.
She laid her towel on the sand and lay on it. Naturally, without any self-consciousness.
Her swimsuit didn’t reveal what it shouldn’t, and yet her lithe body was one of the most appealing he’d ever seen. He tried not to stare, but her eyes were closed, so he indulged just for a moment before plopping down to lie on a towel beside her.
The sky was so blue above. Gulls circled a little ways to the left, and the sun bore down pleasantly. Soon, they would want to seek shade, but he was too lazy to work toward getting an umbrella out.
“This feels wonderful,” she said.
“Mmm,” he agreed.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
He raised himself to his elbow and turned so he faced her. She was looking at him with an intent gaze, which she hid behind lowered lashes before looking out at the ocean.
He watched her profile and her soft lips before following her gaze.
“What a beautiful day,” she said.
And it was. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day, swimming here with this beautiful woman by his side.
They snoozed and slipped back into the water and then lay about again. At his request, Jadda’s daughter brought out a shade and iced tea.
Reese had turned golden under the sun, a delicious color contrasting with his darker skin.
“I should slather more sunblock on,” she said airily, taking out a bottle and proceeding to do so.
“Would you like me to put some on your back?” he asked.
Her hand paused, and then she said, “Sure, thank you.” She handed him the bottle and lay on her stomach, closing her eyes.
He put some lotion on his palm and spread it on his hands. Her skin was warm where he touched. An expanse of smooth skin. He traced the delicate ridge of her spine.
Again, that yearning assailed him.
With impeccable self-control, he capped the sunblock lotion and said, “There you are.” His husky voice gave him away.
Reese’s eyes fluttered open, the bluest of blues. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She folded her arms under her head and peeked at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” He got on his stomach.
She bit her lip and shook her head. “Never mind.”
He wondered what she was going to ask. Was she wondering how many girls he’d brought to Jadda? He didn’t know himself. He just knew that this one mattered.
“All right,” he said, letting her question go.
Her arm hairs were fair against her dark golden skin. He could reach over and trace it with his fingers.
But he didn’t.
9
It was working, whatever this was.
He was falling in love with her. Falling under her magic spell.
Which was good.
She was too. Falling in love with him. Falling under his magic spell.
Which wasn’t as good. Not a terrible situation, but…complicating.
After he put sunblock on her, she thought perhaps he would flirt more, but he didn’t. Just slathered the lotion on matter-of-factly.
As though he wasn’t attracted to her.
And for a while there, she thought maybe he wasn’t. That was the question she almost blurted out.
Are you attracted to me?
He certainly hadn’t made any moves to touch or kiss her.
A kiss.
The thought made it hard for her to breathe.
She was aware of him lying there beside her, his torso bare, his muscles ripped but not unnaturally so. She could smell his cologne, a heady musk scent that filled her senses.
She had to decide—was she in or out? Did she want these jewels or not? Should she cut him loose and go now?
Her phone rang.
It was probably Quinn. She wanted to ignore the ringing, but out of habit, she was already trying to find the phone in her beach bag.
“Hello, Quinn,” she said into the phone. She got up and out of the shade, away to the shallows, letting the water cover her feet.
“So?”
“Not yet. Close.”
“Good. I knew you could do it.”
She changed the subject. “Have you heard any more from Basil?”
He huffed. She could picture him hitching his thumbs through his belt loops. Arrogance personified.
“He has nothing on me. They’re trying to find dirt, though. Ransacked my place the other day.”
“Be careful.” A note of despair crept into her voice.
“Stop. I told you, no pessimism.”
“I wish—”
“And no regrets.”
She closed her eyes. “I know.”
“We’re in this now, and we’re in it just one more time. Get this done, and I’ll quit. No more running.”
“Promise?” She blinked back tears. “I need to know.” Her voice rose. “I need to hear it.”
“Am I not good for my word?”
“What a funny thing for someone like you to say.”
“Well, for the things that count. Have I not been good to you?”
Did hooking her into a life of crime as a confidence artist count as good? He had kept her clothed and fed when she hadn’t known any better.
“Anyway,” she said, “I gotta go.”
After she hung up, she walked back to the shade and towel where Samir was sitting up, cross-legged. He had his shades on, so she couldn’t see his eyes.
My, he was beautiful.
She remained standing, stopping short before the towel. She didn’t trust herself. Even though she’d told Quinn that Samir had almost succumbed, when she thought of what this con entailed, she just didn’t want to do it. Making a mark fall in love with her was one thing; being engaged to someone was another.
