Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  As she’d already thrown up twice, she was ravenous. Warm scones, fruit and herbal tea tempted her appetite. She leaned back in her chair and sighed with contentment. There were moments when it was good to be a guest of the royal family. The food was delicious, the view incredible and for once her morning sickness hadn’t left her feeling too shaky. Actually the morning episodes were the easiest. The ones that struck later in the day left her feeling as if she’d just gone five rounds with a stubborn strain of the flu.

  A small price to pay, she thought as she picked up a strawberry and took a bite. At least it was getting better. In the beginning she’d tossed her cookies nearly—

  “Good morning.”

  Cleo glanced up, then quickly sprang to her feet. She swallowed a sudden case of nerves and tried to smile. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said to the king of Bahania.

  King Hassan smiled and motioned to the small table the servants had set up for her. “Are you enjoying your breakfast?”

  “Yes. Very much. I overslept. Jet lag, I guess.”

  Hassan nodded. When he didn’t keep on walking, Cleo figured this wasn’t a morning constitutional. He must have a purpose. She cleared her throat. “Ah, Zara is getting a final fitting on her gown. She should be back in an hour or so.”

  Hassan motioned to one of the chairs, as if asking permission to join her. Cleo nodded vigorously, feeling like one of those little dogs people put in the back of their cars.

  “Please,” she said, then fumbling when he paused, as if waiting for her to sit first.

  Was she allowed to be seated when he was standing? she wondered. Life was difficult when all her royal training came from umpteen viewings of the movie The King and I. It’s not as if members of the royal family frequently crowded into her small apartment kitchen.

  She finally plunked herself down on her chair and passed a plate of scones. The king took a seat, but declined the scones.

  “Please continue with your breakfast,” Hassan said as he reached for her pot of tea and poured himself a cup. “How was your trip to Bahania?”

  “Long, but otherwise pretty fabulous.” She spread jam on her scone. “I really appreciate the use of the family jet. It was a whole lot nicer than my first trip here.”

  “Not so many people?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I am glad the jet could be of use to you.” He smiled kindly.

  Cleo ignored a twinge of envy. This man was Zara’s father. Cleo was less impressed by the fact that he was a king than that he cared about finding his daughter after not knowing about her for twenty-eight years. Not many men would have been so open and excited at the prospect of a new family member. Still, if good fortune was going to happen to someone, she was glad it was Zara.

  “We are happy you have come for the wedding,” the king said.

  “I wanted to be here.” It was only half a lie, Cleo thought.

  Hassan smiled. “Zara’s happiness would not be complete without the presence of her beloved sister.”

  Hassan was just a tad under six feet, with graying hair and strong, handsome features. Cleo could see the family resemblance in his sons and daughters. They were all tall, dark and very good-looking. She, on the other hand, was a short, round, baby-chick blonde with blue eyes and a slight inclination to chubby thighs.

  “Your Highness, Zara means the world to me, but you must know we’re not actually sisters.”

  The king patted her hand. “You are sisters of the heart. Zara has told me much of your years together. A relationship born of such times runs deep. You honor each other, and as Zara’s father, I honor the bond you share. You have come to be with Zara now, because your presence makes her happy. Therefore you make me happy, as well. You are part of our family, Cleo. You will always be welcome here.”

  Cleo felt as if he’d stabbed her. His complete acceptance made her feel like slime. Not only was she carrying his unborn grandchild, she had planned to duck out of the country without anyone knowing the truth.

  Her conscience wrestled with reality. If the king knew about the baby, he would want to keep it in Bahania. Cleo knew she didn’t belong here, which meant she might lose her child. Zara had the genes to be a member of the royal family, but Cleo wasn’t so lucky.

  “You must tour the garden,” the king said, as if he wasn’t aware of the battle raging inside of her. “When you were last here, the fierce summer daunted many of our most beautiful plants. However, in the fall, they come out and show off their glory.”

  She was grateful for the change in subject. “I’ll make it a point to go look at them,” she said. “I enjoyed the gardens before.”

  “They’re even more beautiful now. Many things bloom here in Bahania.”

  She glanced at him, but despite his cryptic words, he seemed to speak only of the wildlife. There was no way he could have guessed, she told herself as a shiver of unease rippled through her. She was overreacting.

  Hassan spoke of his precious cats for a few minutes, then rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, duty calls,” he said. “Otherwise I would like to spend more time with you.” He touched her shoulder. “Welcome, Cleo. We are all happy to have you with us. Stay as long as you would like. I know that you have a life back in America, but should you wish to make your home here in Bahania, we would be most honored.”

  He nodded slightly, then left.

  Cleo stared after him. It was only when she sniffed that she realized tears rolled down her face. She wiped her cheeks with her napkin. There was no point in blaming this outburst on her hormones. Hassan’s acceptance had opened an old wound—that of wanting to belong to a person, a family, even a place.

  Despite his kindness, it wasn’t going to happen here, she reminded herself. That particular fantasy was going to have to be fulfilled somewhere else.

  Maybe it was time to make a change in her life, she thought as she headed back to her room. When she went home after Zara’s wedding, she would evaluate her situation and find a way to feel, if not happiness, then at least contentment.

  Chapter Three

  Sadik listened as the financial minister from El Bahar outlined the financing proposal for the proposed air force the two countries were developing. The representative from the City of Thieves was also in attendance. The two countries, along with the City of Thieves, worked together to protect the oil fields deep in the desert. The air force was a large part of their plans to modernize security arrangements.

  Each reconnaissance plane cost many millions of dollars, while the fighters’ price tag could top a hundred million dollars. Under normal circumstances, Sadik would be crunching the numbers in his head faster than any calculator and asking dozens of questions.

  These were not normal circumstances.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Cleo. She haunted his mind like a ghost haunting a castle. Ever moving, never appearing in the same place twice, disappearing for a time, then reappearing when he least expected to see her.

  He ached for her. Their time apart had not seemed to dull his passion, nor had it allowed him to forget her. She was more beautiful than he remembered…and more tempting. Her lush body, her blond hair and blue eyes—there wasn’t a part of her he didn’t want. Kissing her had been a mistake. It had given him a taste of the paradise he’d had before, and he desperately wanted to go there again.

  He wanted to make love with her. He wanted to explore every curve, every hollow. He wanted to taste her and touch her, drive her mad, force her to surrender so that he could take her again and again.

  “Your Highness, do you agree?”

  Sadik stared at the minister sitting across from him. He had no idea what they were discussing. Anger surged. How dare Cleo invade his mind and keep him from his duties? He loved his work with a passion he had never felt for a mere woman. There was no reason for him to be so distracted. In time he would have Cleo again. Until then he would forget about her.

  But the simple words did nothing to ease the pounding need inside
of him, nor did they improve his memory or his attention span.

  “I apologize, Minister,” he said curtly. “Would you repeat the question?”

  “We were discussing the options for providing training. There are several companies making bids. In addition both the British and the Americans have offered to send pilots to train our troops.”

  “First we must agree on the aircraft,” Sadik said. He allowed himself one last image of Cleo, then pushed her from his mind. Now was the time to work.

  “I’m glad this isn’t going to be a formal dinner,” Zara said, flopping down on the sofa and sighing. “I hate those state functions that go on for hours. They can be incredibly boring.”

  “How many people will be attending tonight?” Cleo asked. The more the merrier, she thought glumly. Each person in the room was a potential buffer between her and Sadik. As much as she tried to forget it, his kiss from the previous night still haunted her. She found herself alternating between the need to run for cover and the desire to seek him out and finish what they’d started.

  “I’m not sure. A couple hundred.” Zara shrugged. “As far as the inner circle of the royal family, it will be us, of course, and the king. Sadik is the only prince in the palace right now. Prince Reyhan is off at an oil conference somewhere. The crown prince is doing crown princely duties in central Africa. Don’t ask me what. And Prince Jefri is in El Bahar talking with the king there about the joint air force.”

  Cleo stared at her sister in amazement. “Listen to yourself,” she said.

  “What?”

  Cleo reached to her right and pulled loose a small pillow. She threw it at Zara. “You’re casually discussing the whereabouts of several members of the royal family. Doesn’t that strike you as the least bit odd? You’re a member of a ruling family. You’re an honest-to-goodness princess, Zara. How can you be so calm about this?”

  Zara angled toward her. She wore a stylish short-sleeved dress that screamed designer. A large diamond glittered on her left hand. Her always beautiful hair was sleek and shiny—the result of expensive hair treatments and an even more expensive stylist on call.

  “I’m not calm,” Zara admitted, her large eyes dark and troubled. “I feel weird about it all the time. But if I gave in to those feelings, I’m afraid I would end up curled up in a closet, rocking and making weird noises.”

  Cleo laughed. “Not an attractive visual.”

  “Exactly.” Zara fingered her gold hoop earrings. “I didn’t set out to be a princess. I just wanted to find my father. He happens to be the king of Bahania. Just between the two of us, I wish he’d been a normal guy, but he’s not. I’m here, so you have to be here, too.”

  “The difference is, I get to run away when all this becomes too much.”

  “I envy you that,” Zara said.

  “No, you don’t. You want to be with Rafe.”

  Her sister’s expression changed to complete happiness. “You’re right. I’ll put up with anything, even being a princess, just to be near him.”

  “I envy you that,” Cleo said easily, knowing Zara would understand.

  “You’ll find someone,” her sister told her.

  Cleo wasn’t so sure.

  “If it wasn’t for Rafe, I’d miss my old life a lot more,” Zara said after a couple of minutes of silence. “I still miss teaching at the university. Plus my friends. No one but you is coming to the wedding. I wanted to offer to pay for the plane tickets, but I knew people would take that wrong.” She stretched her hand across the back of the sofa and touched Cleo’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Cleo told her truthfully.

  Zara cleared her throat. “You know, there are a lot of opportunities in the city. The economy here is expanding and there’s always plenty of work.”

  Cleo knew exactly where she was going. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I don’t think I’d fit in. I don’t exactly look like a local, plus, who’s going to hire the almost relative of the royal family?” She forced herself to laugh. “We’ll just have to do e-mail a lot.”

  “I guess.” Zara’s answering smile faded. “Cleo, why did you run off so suddenly before? You still had a few days of vacation left, but you headed for home without warning.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I just—” How to balance the truth with the need to keep her secret. “It was a lot of things. I could see that you needed time to bond with your new family. I wasn’t a part of that. Not only was I afraid of getting in the way, I didn’t exactly fit in.”

  “You could never be in the way. I love you and I like having you around. I think the king has a soft spot for you, too.”

  “He’s been very kind,” Cleo admitted, suddenly fighting tears. Pregnancy was the pits, she thought as she sniffed. “But I do have my own life back in Spokane.”

  “Was Sadik part of your decision to leave?”

  Cleo swallowed. “He was a lot of fun, but our relationship wasn’t anything important.” All lies, she thought, feeling guilty. Or maybe only half lies. She suspected their relationship hadn’t meant anything to Sadik. “We had a fling, and then it ended. It happens all the time, although probably more with him than with me.”

  “He’s very good-looking.”

  “I actually figured that out on my own. But come on. Me and a prince?” Cleo forced out a laugh. “Can you see that ever happening?”

  Her heart hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. She desperately wanted Zara to protest, to say that of course everything would work out with Sadik, but that wasn’t going to happen. Zara didn’t have enough information to figure out what Cleo needed to hear, and even if she did, she wouldn’t lie.

  Zara laughed, too. “I guess you’re right. He’s pretty arrogant.”

  “I’m beginning to think that all princes are arrogant. It must be part of the training.”

  Zara fingered her skirt. “Do you mind very much about Rafe? I mean that I’m marrying him?”

  “No.” At least in this, Cleo could tell the truth. “You two are so in love. That makes me happy. You deserve someone wonderful in your life. I’m sorry we’re going to be living so far apart, but we can make that work. We’ll still be emotionally close, and you can tell me all about life with a sheik.”

  Zara grinned. “I never thought I would be marrying a sheik. In his heart Rafe will always be American, which helps. He loves the desert, and the City of Thieves is amazing. He’s taken me there a couple of times. There’s so much history. I can’t wait to start exploring and studying.”

  “That will keep you busy. Then you start having babies. You’re going to have a good life.”

  “I hope so,” Zara admitted.

  Cleo continued to smile, even though the tears threatened again. It’s not that she didn’t want Zara to be happy, but was it so wrong to want the same for herself?

  She reminded herself that the best way to get through all this was to act normal and leave as quickly as possible after the wedding. Like the next day. The sooner she was back in the States, the safer she would feel.

  Her stomach lurched slightly. Cleo gritted her teeth. Please, God, let her not throw up at that night’s dinner. Formal event or not, tossing her cookies would give everyone something to talk about and that’s exactly what she didn’t need.

  Cleo stood at the entrance of the reception room. Her stomach was surprisingly calm, considering how nervous she felt. Nearly two hundred people were sipping cocktails and chatting with each other. The combined value of the clothing and jewelry was probably enough to match the gross national product of a small country. Cleo glanced down at her new finery, compliments of Zara, who had invited a couple of boutique owners to bring in their wares and then told Cleo to choose a new wardrobe.

  The designer dress she wore wasn’t anyone’s idea of a castoff, yet Cleo couldn’t escape the sensation of once again being a charity case. Funny how she thought she’d left that behind her years ago. Since she’d moved out at eightee
n, she’d been making her own way and paying her bills on time. She even had a nest egg, although by royal family standards, it was amazingly pitiful. But it was enough for her. The problem was, she couldn’t afford to keep up with the elite social circles in Bahania, and Zara knew it.

  Four months ago Zara had been the one feeling weird about accepting gifts of clothing from her newly found father. Cleo had seen their time here as an adventure. Now she shared Zara’s reluctance. Did carrying Sadik’s baby make all that much difference?

  Dumb question, she told herself as she headed for the bar. Her midnight-blue beaded dress swished as she walked. High-heeled gold pumps gave her a couple of inches of height, but what she liked best about her outfit was the loose style. It hinted at curves without actually hugging them. So far no one had noticed her bulging belly and she planned to keep it that way.

  “Club soda,” she said when the bartender looked up.

  She took the glass he offered and turned to survey the room. So these were the beautiful people, she thought as she sipped on her drink. They were certainly out of her league. If she had to make idle chitchat she would—

  “I fear you grow more beautiful each time I see you.”

  The wrapped-in-velvet voice made her tremble. She didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there.

  “I didn’t think royal princes feared anything.” She glanced to her left and saw that Sadik had joined her. He looked fabulous in a tailored black tuxedo. It reminded her of the first time they’d met—when she’d taken one look at him and lost most of her common sense, not to mention a good part of her heart.

  He took her free hand in his, brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. It was a courtly gesture that belonged to another time and place. Darn the man—it worked, anyway. She felt herself melting.