Susan Mallery - The Sheikh & the Princess In Waiting

by The Sheikh

  But his words had made her aware of him again. While she’d been busy trying on outfit after outfit she’d been able to forget the tension lurking just under the surface. She’d managed to forget how much she liked being close to him and how he’d made her feel when he’d kissed her. Now she remembered everything.

  “This will be fabulous,” Aimee said when Emma returned to the dressing room. The older woman held out a strapless beaded gown in bronze. “The color will bring out the fire in your hair. Perhaps the prince will buy you a necklace of yellow diamonds to complete the look.”

  Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Emma didn’t think that soon-to-be divorced wives rated rare gemstones. Of course she hadn’t thought they rated new wardrobes, either.

  After stripping off the pants suit, she studied the dress. No way was she going to be able to keep on her bra. Aimee stepped outside to give her privacy, so Emma continued undressing until she stood in just her panties, then she stepped into the elegant gown.

  It fit her perfectly, sliding over her hips as if it had been made for her.

  Aimee returned with a pair of strappy sandals and some combs to hold back Emma’s hair.

  “Excellent,” the woman said approvingly. “You look exactly like the princess you are.”

  Emma glanced in the mirror, then did a double take. She did look royal, or at least elegant in a way she never had before.

  “I guess clothes really do make the woman,” she murmured as she walked out into the salon.

  Reyhan looked up from a newspaper, then rose to his feet and nodded. “Yes. That is exactly right. You are stunning.”

  “Thank you. The dress is amazing and I know it fits great, but there’s no way I’m going to keep it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Reyhan, where will I ever wear it? I really appreciate your interest in my wardrobe, but be serious. This isn’t me.”

  He dropped the paper onto the small table by his chair and walked toward her.

  When he was less than a foot away, he stopped and looked into her face.

  She met his gaze and felt the impact of his intense stare. Heat grew until she felt uncomfortable in the strapless gown. She wanted to tug down the hidden zipper and let the dress pool at her feet. She wanted to be naked before him.

  Naked and vulnerable and slick with wanting. Need made her ache deep inside. Her thighs trembled.

  “It pleases me to buy you these things,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Why do you object?”

  Why, indeed. At this moment, she could deny him nothing. If only he would say that he wanted her. If only he would touch her. Anywhere. Her arms, her face, her breasts. She felt her tight nipples rub against the soft lining of the gown and wished the contact to be against Reyhan’s palms instead.

  Take me.

  She didn’t speak the words, but somehow he heard. Fire erupted in his eyes. His muscles tensed and his breathing quickened.

  When his gaze shifted to the entrance to the dressing room, she knew what he was thinking. That they could be alone there. Right now. No waiting, no wondering if it was right. Just a man and woman taking pleasure in each other.

  It was insane to even consider such a thing, but she wanted to. Desperately.

  They could—

  The click of heels on the tile floor cut through the erotic silence. Before Emma could object, Aimee came out of the back room and Reyhan turned away. It was as if the moment had never been. Reluctantly she returned to the dressing room and took off the dress.

  Later, when their limo was filled with boxes and bags from the boutique, and Reyhan sat so carefully at the opposite end of the long leather seat, she tried to figure out what was going on between them.

  Six years ago, after their brief marriage ceremony, they’d retired to a hotel suite and spent three days together. Emma remembered the intimacy of making love with him. There had been little desire on her part. Mostly she’d felt embarrassment, fear and occasionally pain. The more Reyhan had wanted her, the more scared she’d become. When he’d been called back to Bahania, she’d been grateful.

  Back then she’d simply endured his desires, whereas now she shared them. What was different? Her? Had she grown up to the place where she could meet Reyhan as an equal? Had he changed? Was it chemistry or timing? Was it a quirk of fate that she would find herself falling for a man who planned on divorcing her then have her disappear from his life forever?

  Emma paced the length of her suite. She’d already unpacked her beautiful clothes and admired them while trying not to look at the price tags. Some of her evening gowns cost as much as a good used car. She had no idea where she would wear them, but that was really the least of her problems. Instead there was the pressing matter of Reyhan.

  What was going on between them? Was acting on their mutual attraction a good thing or would it make her a nominee for idiot of the year? Should she say something to him? Ask him if he’d changed his mind about the divorce? Ask him if he just wanted her for sex? Ignore the whole thing and count the hours until she headed back for Dallas?

  “If you were the least bit brave, you’d talk to him,” she murmured to herself.

  “Put it all out on the table and see what happens.”

  A sensible plan.

  She crossed to the phone, intent on calling him at his office, but before she could there was a knock on her suite door.

  Reyhan? Her heart pounded at the thought. She replaced the phone and hurried to the door.

  But instead of her handsome husband, a young maid stood in the hallway. The girl handed her a note, nodded and left. Emma closed the door, then unfolded the piece of paper. As she read, her chest tightened and her spirits sank.

  Emma,

  My thanks for a lovely day. Unfortunately, some minor trouble in the oil fields calls me away. By the time you read this I will have left by helicopter. I’m not sure of the date of my return, but I will make sure it is before you leave Bahania for good.

  Disappointment swelled inside of her. He was gone and she might not see him again until it was time for her to go back to Dallas. Not exactly the actions of a man overwhelmed by passion. Had she misread him completely?

  She hadn’t been very good at understanding Reyhan when they’d first met.

  Apparently time and distance hadn’t changed that fact.

  “It’s for the best,” she whispered, crushing the note in her hands. “I’ll go home and this will all be forgotten. I’ll get on with my life. Find someone else and get married.”

  Although she had no idea who that someone else might be. Reyhan was going to be a tough act to follow.

  Chapter 7

  “For a woman with a brand-new wardrobe, you’re pretty down in the mouth,” Cleo said the next morning.

  Emma nuzzled baby Calah’s sweet-smelling head and sighed. “It’s guilt. Reyhan spent too much on me. The clothes are beautiful, but…”

  Cleo rolled her eyes. “What? You don’t deserve them? Emma, we’re talking about the royal family. They’ve been rich for about a thousand years. Trust me. Your shopping spree didn’t even count as pocket change.”

  Emma wanted to mention that the trip to the boutique hadn’t been her idea, but she thought it might sound like she was making too big a deal of things. Cleo didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. Reyhan hadn’t minded. He’d wanted her to buy more than she had. The guilt was hers and she should deal with it by herself. Except…

  “I didn’t really need them.”

  Cleo laughed. “That’s your mother talking. It’s a very parental thing to say.

  Isn’t it fun to buy things you don’t need and not have to worry about cost? Think of this as the fulfillment of your every-female shopping fantasy. Besides, I know you made Reyhan happy. From what I can tell, all the princes like to take care of women. It can be occasionally annoying but for the most part it’s pretty nice.”

  “So you’re saying I went shopping just to keep him happy?”

  “If it he
lps with the guilt, sure.”

  Emma smiled. “I’m going to look pretty silly wearing a beaded gown in the grocery store on Saturday morning.”

  “Not if you’re over in the imported foods section. Tell everyone you’re European.”

  “That might work.” Emma thought of the beautiful evening gowns sitting in the suite’s large closet. “Are there a lot of formal functions here at the palace?”

  “Two or three each month. I’ve only just started attending them, what with being pregnant and all.” She rubbed her baby’s arm. “But now that Calah is here and I’ve had a chance to recover, I have social obligations, not to mention charitable ones.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Cleo blew her daughter a kiss, then turned back to Emma. “I’m in a unique position to help people. In a way, that’s a bigger dream fulfillment than the shopping. I’ve spoken with Sadik and the king, and I’m getting involved with homeless children. There aren’t very many in Bahania and El Bahar, but it’s a big problem in other countries. I had something of a twisted upbringing for my first few years and I know what it’s like to be alone and scared. Sabrina and Zara, the king’s other daughters, each have their causes. Sabrina’s seriously into finding antiquities and returning them to their rightful countries so people can enjoy their heritage. Zara is a former professor. She’s working on a network of scholarships for girls who want to go to college but can’t afford it.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t sound as wistful as she felt.

  Cleo was right. The chance to help people by using nearly unlimited resources would be a wonderful way to spend her life.

  What would she have done if she and Reyhan had stayed together? She’d always loved children, especially babies. Maybe something with prenatal care. Not that she was going to get the chance to find out.

  “How much longer do you have here?” Cleo asked. “I was hoping we could fit in a field trip so you could meet Sabrina and Zara. They live in a very interesting place.”

  “Not here in the city?”

  “Not exactly.”

  When Cleo didn’t seem willing to say anything else, Emma considered her question. “I was told I would be here two weeks, but I don’t have an exact date for my return. I guess that’s up to the king.”

  Not that she was all that anxious to head out, she thought. Spending time with Reyhan had been exciting and fun and something she wouldn’t mind doing more. But with him gone…She sighed. Her simple life had sure had gotten confusing.

  “How are things with you and Reyhan?” Cleo asked. “Or is that too personal? I just meant it’s been a long time. Is he the same guy you remembered?”

  Emma chuckled. “Are we allowed to refer to a Bahanian prince as a guy?”

  “Hmm, good point. We might be risking a beheading. Fortunately Calah is too young to turn us in.”

  Emma bounced the baby on her lap. “She would never betray us, would you, honey? You’re one of the girls. We have to stick together.” She looked at Cleo. “As for Reyhan being the same or different…Honestly, everything is different. When we met, I was a freshman, away from home for the first time in my life. He was a sophisticated older man who swept me off my feet. I spent most of our time together trying not to sound too young or stupid. That took most of my energy. I can’t say I did ever know him.”

  “And now?”

  Interesting question. “He’s terrific. Not just those handsome dark good looks, either.”

  Cleo sighed. “Agreed. Sadik would be a catch even if he were a brainless fool. I could happily suspend my life simply looking at him. But there’s a genuine person buried inside. I’m guessing Reyhan is the same.”

  “Yeah. He’s smart and serious, but funny, too.” And sexy. Too sexy, she thought remembering their almost close encounter in the boutique. She would have sworn he’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him. So why had he just up and disappeared without seeing her to say goodbye?

  “So the girl in you was overwhelmed the first time around,” Cleo said. “How does the woman feel the second time around?”

  “She’s impressed,” Emma admitted.

  “Which doesn’t make you sound like a woman who’s hot for a divorce.”

  “Of course I am. Maybe not eager, but it’s why I’m here. Reyhan is ready to get on with his life and his plan doesn’t include me.”

  Cleo’s blue eyes widened slightly. “You don’t have to blindly agree, you know.

  You could take some time, see where things go.”

  Emma blinked at her. Could she? Was that an option? “I never thought I had a say in things.”

  “Arrogant princes prefer the world to do their bidding, but it doesn’t always have to happen that way. You’re half of the couple. You get a vote.” She touched Emma’s hand. “Seriously. If you’re not sure what you want, tell the king. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to hold off the divorce for a while.”

  Tempting, Emma thought a half second before she shook her head. “No. There’s no point. I don’t belong here.”

  Cleo arched her eyebrows. “Oh, and I did? When I met Sadik I was the night manager of a copy shop. Not exactly princess material.” She waved her fingers at the room. “It’s not about the trappings, or even tradition. The king wants his sons to fall in love. Prince Jefri has decided on an arranged match, but he’s the only one.”

  Cleo was wrong, Emma thought sadly. Reyhan wanted one, as well. He’d told her.

  “Maybe if things had worked out differently when we’d first met,” Emma said firmly. “But that time is past. We’re different people. I have my own life back in Texas.”

  “Sure,” Cleo said. “If you’re not falling for Reyhan, there’s no reason to stay.

  So tell me about your work in the hospital. You work in the delivery room, right?”

  “Yes, it’s wonderful.”

  Emma talked about a typical day, if there was such a thing, and how she loved what she did. But in the back of her mind, she kept hearing Cleo’s words over and over again. If you’re not falling for Reyhan.

  She wasn’t, she told herself firmly. She hadn’t and she wouldn’t. Falling for him after all these years apart would be just plain stupid. The fact that she enjoyed spending time with him was interesting but not significant. She wouldn’t let it matter. She couldn’t. Because Reyhan had made it clear he was only interested in moving on.

  “They’re making threats again,” Will O’Rourke said quietly.

  “The usual?” Reyhan asked from his place by the fire.

  “Death and destruction. Interruption of oil production. The usual.”

  Reyhan kicked at a small rock in front of his chair. “I would have more respect for these boys if they had a genuine complaint. We have neither taken their lands, nor displaced them.”

  “They want something for nothing. A share of the oil money or they make trouble.

  They’re kids—seventeen or eighteen. To them this is a game.”

  “Extortion is a time-honored tradition all over the world.” Reyhan turned his attention to the sky. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the total darkness, then he saw the thousands of stars twinkling in the heavens.

  Beautiful, he thought. Mysterious. Distant. A world unto themselves. Much like Emma.

  He shook his head. The point of his trip to the desert had been to avoid her, but if he was going to spend all his time thinking about her, then he might as well torture himself by being in her presence.

  “I doubt they have a plan,” Will said.

  It took Reyhan a moment to remember what they’d been talking about. The teenage renegades.

  “They imagine themselves to be characters in a movie,” he told his security chief. “They will ride their purebred Bahanian stallions to victory.”

  Reyhan had no more patience for these boys. He’d listened to their grievances and investigated their claims. They had not been pushed off their lands, nor injured in any way by the oil productio
n. Most of them were bored second sons from hardworking nomadic families. Unable to inherit, they didn’t want to work to acquire their wealth. Instead they sought to take that which belonged to the people.

  “Watch them,” Reyhan said. “In time they will grow bored and go home.”

  “You hired me to keep the peace, then made it impossible for me to do my job.”

  “To date there have been threats, but no actions. They are afraid of you. I consider that doing your job.”

  Will was a former army ranger who had grown up on oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico. His unique combination of knowledge and skills had made him a find. Over the past three years he’d worked his way up from the person in charge of security to Reyhan’s second-in-command. There were those who disapproved of an American holding such a high position, but there was no one else Reyhan trusted at his back.

  “The royal family has a centuries-old relationship with the nomads,” Reyhan said. “Under normal circumstances, I would agree to your plan to simply round them all up and let them rot in prison for a decade or so. But the majority of these boys are sons of chiefs, and I have given my word that I will not endanger them without cause. Threats are not cause.”

  “As you wish.”

  The tall, blond American rose to his feet and headed to his tent. Reyhan watched him go. Will was frustrated, but he wouldn’t say any more. Instead he would do his job. He would focus on the task. Did he know a way to keep a man from going insane?

  Reyhan closed his eyes and tried to see nothing, but instead Emma filled his mind. Being apart from her had only made him want her more. She was like water to a man dying of thirst. Her light filled his day and without her, he was blind.

  Not much longer, he told himself, looking for comfort and finding none. Just a few more days and Emma would be gone. Then he would be free to marry someone else. A sensible woman who would bear him fine sons. A woman he could respect and never love. A woman who was not Emma.