Her Billionaire Sheikh

by Allen, Jewel

  One day, she strayed into the stables. This part of Samir’s life intrigued her. When he was on a horse, he seemed more driven, focused with laser-like precision. She had watched him ride from afar, but now she caught a glimpse of him up close.

  He was riding a sleek black horse in an outdoor pen. The gelding’s muscles rippled with power. Like his rider. Samir looked up and saw Reese watching. He slowed and rode to the rail.

  “Hello,” he said.

  His face glistened with sweat, his eyes lit up from the exertion, and he looked devastatingly attractive in a loose white polo shirt tucked into riding breeches.

  “Hi,” she said, pretending his appearance didn’t affect her at all. “Your horse is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Bariq. It’s Arabic for lightning.”

  She studied the horse. “A thoroughbred?”

  “An Argentinian Criollo. They’re bred for polo.”

  “Ah.”

  He hesitated. “Would you like to ride with me?”

  She gaped at him in surprise. Riding seemed to be his private hobby that had no room for a soon-to-be ex-wife.

  “I’m not very good at it,” she said.

  “So? Let’s get you a mount.”

  She went back to the palace to change into skinny jeans, a slender polo shirt, and leather boots. When she returned, stable hands had tacked up a dainty little sorrel for her.

  Samir had come out of the arena, talking to one of the employees. He held the reins of his horse with one hand. At her approach, he looked up, his gaze slowly traveling over her outfit and then away.

  Heat prickled under her collar.

  “This is Nur,” he said, gesturing toward the sorrel.

  “Hello, Nur,” she said, walking up to her. This sweet animal had beautiful gentle eyes fringed by long lashes. Reese nuzzled her soft cheek and flicked her glance toward Samir.

  He was watching her intently. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  The palace abutted a small hill. The horses made short work of climbing, and soon, they reached the top with 360-degree views of the city’s mix of modern and ancient as well as a river. Gulls circled the water above. At the top, there was a little oasis with towering palms, a small man-made fountain, and hammocks in blessed shade.

  They got off their horses and led them to the fountain. The horses drank greedily while the riders also drank from a pump. The water was cool and sweet-tasting. They tethered their horses on posts with circular tie-ups.

  Reese undid the top button of her shirt and splashed water on her neck to cool herself. Samir had gone over to a hammock and was lying in it, watching her. He averted his gaze toward the sky.

  She climbed in another hammock. The breeze felt cool on her face.

  “This is heaven,” she said.

  “If you like this, you will love Safi.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A private island off the coast of Eggai.”

  At the mention of Eggai, memories tumbled in her mind like the rushing of a waterfall. That day on the beach. The visit with Jadda. Their first kiss.

  She pushed her unruly thoughts away. “Do you think we can go to Safi before…before I leave?”

  He didn’t answer for a long moment. “Probably.”

  Her bravado failed her. She was glad they weren’t face to face or she’d have quailed under his scrutiny. Her chest tightened with a dull ache.

  She sat up and walked over to Nur, hugging her neck. “Do you mind if we go back?” she asked.

  Reese was subdued on the way back. She had glimpsed his secret life with horses, and it only made her crave for more than he was willing to give.

  A little red convertible sat along a private side area, parked carelessly. The door opened and out came Alliyah, shiny like a newly minted coin.

  “Hello, lovebirds,” she said, grinning.

  33

  Samir joined them for lunch briefly before excusing himself to meet with the ambassador from Jainor. Which played beautifully into Reese’s plans to have her sister-in-law all to herself.

  With her napkin, Alliyah dabbed the corners of her bright red lips and stared at Reese pointedly.

  “Okay,” Alliyah said. “What gives?”

  “What do you mean?” Reese hedged.

  “You and Samir. Are you having a lover’s quarrel?”

  “I wish,” Reese answered truthfully.

  Alliyah cocked her head. With her dark ponytail gathered at the top, she looked like a genie about to grant Reese’s wishes.

  Reese took a deep breath. Slowly, as though dictating a short story, Reese told her everything. From the start to their engagement and their wedding. Their honeymoon and their return to the palace, where they had no reason to be cooped up in tight spaces together.

  “Holy cow,” Alliyah said. “Are you serious?”

  Reese nodded. “I won’t be offended if you want nothing to do with me.”

  “What?” Alliyah threw down her napkin. “I think you’re cool.”

  Reese gazed at her steadily. “I’m flattered, Alliyah, but I am a con artist.”

  “Trying to change your life, like you said yourself.”

  Reese winced. “That was the hope. Only Samir and Axel know about this. I can’t stop you from telling anyone, of course…”

  Alliyah shrugged. “You can trust me not to blab.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know, that Axel is a real stinker.” Alliyah smirked. “Dreamy, but a stinker. Someone should teach him a lesson in not interfering with romances.”

  “He was doing his job.”

  “Yes, but to tell his boss on his wedding day? Lame. But in fairness to my brother, I can see why he hates your guts.”

  Reese smiled. “How do you know so many Americanisms?”

  “I went to college at Yale.” Alliyah blew on her perfectly manicured nails. “In fact, Axel was my bodyguard.”

  Reese gazed at her curiously. “Really?”

  “I called him Winter. He was so cold. Brrr.” Alliyah tossed her head. “Anyway. Let’s focus on you. What can I do to help?”

  “I want to win him back.”

  Alliyah pinned Reese with her gaze. “Do you love Samir?”

  “Yes.” A warmth spread across Reese’s chest. “Yes!”

  “Okay, then.” Alliyah winked. “I’ll help you.”

  “Thanks,” Reese said softly. “Can I ask why?”

  “Because you love him. You hurt him, but it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that my brother loves you.

  Reese hung on to her words. “I hope so.”

  34

  “You don’t mind if I steal your bride away for the morning, do you?” Alliyah asked Samir at breakfast.

  Samir looked up from scanning the newspaper headlines. “Of course not.” His glance flicked toward Reese. She looked especially pretty today, with her hair getting a bit longer and touching her collarbone.

  “Perfect.” Alliyah turned to Reese. “I wanted to take you shopping for the Polo Challenge and the gala.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Shopping…again?” Samir raised an eyebrow.

  “You know this is nothing compared to what I used to do,” Alliyah said.

  Samir glanced from one to the other. They couldn’t be more physically opposite—his sister with her long dark hair, and Reese with her shorter blonde hair—but their personalities seemed so similar. Both feisty and strong. Could that be why they got along so well?

  They’d spent practically every minute together for a month and a half. Mostly shopping. Sometimes swimming. Always talking. Samir almost felt jealous of his sister for monopolizing Reese’s time. He missed her.

  Not that he hadn’t seen her. When he met with visiting ambassadors, his gaze wandered out the window to the grounds where he sometimes caught glimpses of Reese and Alliyah running together. At mealtimes, having Alliyah meant he could simply listen to the gi
rls’ conversation and see Reese sparkle again. At night, Alliyah insisted on playing a board game in the parlor, again with Reese in tow.

  If he were honest, he missed having Reese to himself. She seemed to open up more to him, though of course things had changed drastically since their wedding night.

  His thoughts drifted back to their honeymoon. Their kisses. After that moonrise…

  He stole a glance at Reese, and her eyes flicked toward him with a heat in their depths.

  “Well, Samir?” Alliyah said.

  He tore his gaze from Reese and turned his attention to his sister. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  Alliyah gave Reese a sly glance. “I said, ‘Who are you riding in the first chukka in the Maroc Cup?’”

  “Bariq, who else?”

  “That ol’ black beast? I thought you’d put him out to pasture.”

  “He’s only eight.”

  “Does he still have a stubborn streak?”

  “Sometimes. That’s why I enjoy riding him. He keeps me on my toes.”

  “Chukka?” Reese asked.

  “There are four chukkas, or periods, in a game. Seven minutes each. Riders use a different pony in each chukka.”

  “Thanks. All I know about polo is the teams are trying to hit the ball with the mallet. I didn’t figure out much when I watched you play that first weekend in Eggai.”

  Samir smiled, though the thought of that weekend made him ache for what they’d lost. “That’s about all you know.”

  Reese smiled back, causing Samir’s breath to hitch in his throat.

  “Who’s in charge of the event?” Alliyah asked.

  “Os Janan.”

  “Os, the realtor?” Alliyah’s eyes gleamed. “Good. I know him.”

  35

  The teams were tied at ten in the final of the four chukkas, with two minutes left in the Maroc Gold Cup.

  Samir jogged Bariq around the other riders to confer with his teammates.

  “You want to take this, Samir?” Dirk asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Samir grinned. “Get yourselves open for shots. I’ll try to see if I can steal the ball.”

  “Samir!” someone shouted.

  Samir turned at the sound of sister’s voice and sought her out in the stands where she sat beside Reese.

  “Good luck!” Reese said, her eyes shining under that playful wide-brimmed hat that matched her fuchsia dress.

  He tapped his helmet and focused back on the game. The other team, led by their patron, Prince Armando of Mondragón, started their charge down the field. Armando had possession of the ball and was moving it along in the middle of the melee. Samir tried to cut off Armando, but the wild-haired royal veered left, protecting the ball. Armando brought it near the goal and overshot by a foot to the left.

  The crowd issued a collective groan. Some girls screamed. Mondragón’s prince was a favorite among the ladies.

  Team Maroc needed to defend its home turf. Samir passed the ball to Dirk, who passed it on to a British minor-but-moneyed nobleman. Dirk was in the perfect position for an assist, but the Brit’s shot went wide and out of bounds.

  Samir should have taken the shot. This was no time for modesty. The other team took possession of the ball and was moving along the field. Samir positioned himself inconspicuously among a clump of riders. He kept his eye on Armando, who was moving the ball along, amazingly enough, toward Samir.

  Samir said a little prayer under his breath and moved to meet him. Three horse lengths, two horse lengths, one…

  The ball connected with his mallet.

  Samir did it! He stole the ball from Armando. No one else was even near him. Everyone had to pivot and turn the other direction. Samir could see a clear and direct shot between him and the goal. Galloping down the field, he could hear Armando bearing down on him.

  But his opponent wasn’t fast enough.

  Samir took his eye off the ball for one moment, glanced at the goal, and hit the ball in.

  “Eleven to ten is the score,” the announcer said. “It’s been a cracking match. The winning point won by the House of Alaouite’ s King Samir.”

  The crowd erupted in cheers.

  Samir sought the stands for Reese. There she was, jumping up and down and hugging Alliyah. Reese grinned and blew him a kiss.

  His heart contracted with gladness. He raised his hand as if to catch the kiss before his teammates surrounded him with their horses and congratulations.

  Os Janan, the event sponsor, strode onto the field with the huge gold cup to where Samir and his team waited without their horses. This was the norm after polo matches. But what was not the norm was the woman walking alongside Os.

  Reese.

  “Congratulations, Your Royal Highness,” Os said. “What a spectacular finish.” He turned deferentially to Reese. “I’ve asked Her Royal Highness to present the cup to you and award a kiss to the champion.

  A kiss.

  Samir swallowed.

  Beyond Reese, Alliyah stood, a mischievous smile on her face. Of course. Samir should have known Alliyah was behind this.

  Reese walked up to him, holding the gold cup. Samir took it and tucked it under his arm.

  “Congratulations,” Reese said, her eyes shining.

  “Kiss, kiss, kiss,” the crowd chanted.

  “Can’t disappoint the crowd,” he said, slipping his hand behind Reese’s nape and pulling her to him. He only planned to kiss her for a moment, but the second turned to several.

  Unhurriedly, he slid his lips over hers in a soft caress. He deepened the kiss and pulled her even closer. Her arms circled his neck and clung to him.

  He was lost in the kiss. He wanted to hold her forever and never let her go.

  Applause drove them apart.

  Reese lifted a hand to her lips, and she blushed prettily.

  With one arm still around her, Samir hoisted the cup above his head as his team surged forward to savor their victory.

  * * *

  At the gala later that night, Samir sipped his sparkling water and spoke to friends and fellow royals. He tried to follow the conversation with Armando and a polo fan, but his head was half-cocked toward the grand staircase where guests were coming down.

  “Her Royal Highness Lalla Princess Nerissa, and Princess Alliyah,” the page announced.

  At his elbow, Armando said, “You lucky dog.”

  “I am indeed lucky,” Samir murmured. There, coming down to join the rapt crowd in a simple silver gown, was Reece. Beside her, Alliyah walked beside her in a purple ball gown.

  As the ladies joined him, Samir complimented his sister and then turned his attention to Reese. Her stunning blue eyes glittered. Her red lips parted in a smile.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You ladies are beautiful.”

  “We know who you really mean, brother,” Alliyah teased.

  The orchestra played a slow waltz. Alliyah pushed Samir and Reese onto the dance floor. “Go,” she said, “and make a good showing for Morocco.”

  Of course, he was only doing his duty, but it didn’t hurt that dancing with Reese felt like a dream. She fit just right in his arms and danced gracefully. One song turned to two, two turned to four. He hardly let her go, keeping an arm casually draped around her waist.

  All for the sake of appearances, of course. Jainor’s crown prince and his vizier watched them from the sidelines.

  As for that breathless excitement, well, it was a delicious side benefit.

  36

  “I think it’s working, don’t you?” Alliyah told Reese over brunch the next day.

  Samir had already left for a meeting with the Parliament, and the two ladies were enjoying the morning sun on a palace balcony.

  “I think so too,” Reese said.

  “Then why the long face?”

  Reese blinked back a tear. “He hasn’t said anything about me staying.”

  “But he hasn’t said more about finding a different wife, correct?”

  “No
.”

  Alliyah popped a grape in her mouth. “So maybe he’s had a change of heart.”

  “You think?”

  “I know he has. He never left your side last night.”

  To her embarrassment, Reese burst into tears.

  Alliyah patted her hand. “Mercy, why are you sad?”

  “I’m not,” Reese said. “I’m happy. I’m so grateful to you for coming and helping me.”

  “Of course, you aren’t out of the woods yet, but hopefully these little nudges will help bring you closer. That champion kiss was brilliant, don’t you think?”

  Reese nodded and sighed happily, remembering.

  “Is there anything else I can do to throw the two of you together?”

  “Another honeymoon?”

  “Mmm, I think Samir will think that odd. A place you’ve been wanting to visit?”

  Reese smiled. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  37

  Samir dressed for the day in a suit without a tie. Today was one of those tieless days where he could loosen his collar and somewhat relax.

  Until Reese was in his presence, and he secretly fell apart. The days were torture, and then it abated somewhat at night, until she invaded his dreams and he woke up yearning for her.

  Just two more weeks, and she would leave as planned. She hadn’t said anything about staying, and he couldn’t get himself to bring up the subject. Nor had he found a suitable replacement for Reese. He’d been too busy, he told himself. Even as day after day trudged on, he couldn’t broach the subject with the vizier. Samir knew it would unleash a torrent of inquiries that he simply didn’t want to deal with yet.

  At the breakfast table, Reese and Alliyah were nowhere to be found. Samir felt an equal twinge of disappointment and relief.

  His mother was already seated at the table. Looking up at him from her coffee, she asked him point blank, “Is Reese expecting?”

  “What?” Samir said. Cold fingers encircled his heart. She’d better not be. “Why would you ask?”