Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  She should know all of this. She came from a family familiar with power and how the world worked. He had known that they favored the match, and he was willing to admit he had been surprised she would stand against them.

  Murat turned his back on the view but did not enter his office. The past flashed before him—a tableau of what had been. His father had told him she left. The king had come to him full of plans of how they would go after her and bring her back, but Murat had refused. He would not chase her around the world. If Daphne wanted to be gone, then let her. She had been a mere woman. Easy to replace.

  Now, with the wisdom of hindsight, he admitted to himself that she had been different from anyone he had ever known. As for replacing her…that had never occurred. He had met other women, bedded them, been interested and intrigued. But he had never been willing to marry any of them.

  He knew he should wonder why. What was it about her that had made her stand out? Not her great beauty. She was attractive and sensual, but he had known women who seemed more goddess than human. Not her intelligence. While hers was better than average, he had dated women whose comprehension of technical and scientific matters had left him speechless.

  She was funny and charming, but he had known those with more of those qualities. So what combination of traits had made him willing to marry her and not another?

  As he walked back into his office, he remembered what it had been like after she had left. He hadn’t allowed himself to mourn her. No one had been permitted to speak her name. For him, it was as if she had never been.

  And now she had returned and they would marry. In time she would see that was right. She might always argue with him, but she knew who was in charge.

  He moved to his desk and took a seat. In a locked drawer sat a red leather box that contained the official seal of his office. He opened that box and removed the seal, then moved aside the silk lining. Tucked in the bottom, in between folds of protective padding, lay a diamond ring.

  The stone had been given by a Bahanian king to his favorite mistress in 1685. He had been loyal to her for nearly thirty years and when his queen died, he married his mistress. Many told the story of how the ring had saved the mistress’s life more than once, as other jealous women in the harem sought to do her harm. The stone was said to possess magical powers to heal and evoke love.

  Of all the diamonds in the royal family’s possession, this had been the one Murat had chosen for Daphne and the one she had left behind when she’d gone. He picked it up now and studied the carefully cut stone.

  Such a small thing, he thought. Barely three carats. He’d been a fool to think it contained any magic at all.

  He returned the ring to its hiding place, replaced the seal, then put the box back in the drawer and locked it. Later that afternoon the royal jeweler would offer a selection of rings for Murat’s consideration. He would choose another one for Daphne. A stone without history or meaning. Or magic.

  Daphne spent the morning considering her options. Murat had left in a huff without saying much to make her feel any better. He refused to admit there wasn’t going to be a wedding, nor had he told her how her sister and the newspaper had found out so quickly. Obviously, he was to blame, but why wouldn’t he just say so?

  As she walked through the garden she told herself that an unexpected engagement certainly put things in perspective. Twenty-four hours ago her biggest concern had been how long he would keep her trapped in the harem. She’d been sure he would want to make his point—that she’d defied him and had to be punished in some way—but she’d looked at it as an unexpected vacation in a place not of her choosing. Now everything was different.

  She wanted to tell herself that he couldn’t possibly marry her without her permission, only she didn’t know if that was true. Murat was determined and obviously sneaky. Should anyone be able to pull that off—he was the guy. She was going to have to stay on her toes and prevent the wedding from happening. Finding herself married to him would be a disaster of monumental proportions. Getting out of this engagement was going to be difficult enough.

  She needed a plan. Which meant she needed more information. But how to get it?

  “Hello? Anybody home?”

  Daphne turned toward the sound of the female voice. None of the servants would address her that way. Not after they knew about the engagement. To be honest, none of the servants had addressed her at all—it was as if they’d been told to avoid conversation.

  She hurried back into the harem.

  “Hello,” she said as she stepped into the large, cool main room.

  Three women stood together. They were beautiful, elegantly dressed and smiling.

  Two blondes and a redhead. One of the blondes—a petite woman with short, spiky hair and a curvy body to die for—stepped forward.

  “We’re your basic princess contingent sneaking in to speak with the prisoner.” She grinned. “Not that you’re really a prisoner. There were rumors, of course. But now you’re engaged to Murat, which makes you family. I’m Cleo. Married to Sadik.” She rolled her big, blue eyes. “How totally Lawrence of Arabia to introduce myself in terms of who my husband is.”

  “You’re a disgrace to us all, Cleo,” the other blonde said fondly. She was a little taller, even more curvy, with big hair and sandals that looked high enough to be a walking hazard, especially considering her obvious pregnancy.

  “Daphne Snowden.”

  “Hi.” The redhead waved. “I’m Emma. Reyhan’s wife.” She motioned to the pregnant woman. “That’s Billie.”

  Billie frowned. “Didn’t I give her my name?”

  “No,” Cleo and Emma said together. Cleo sighed. “Billie thinks she’s all that because she can fly jets. Like that’s a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” Emma whispered. “We talked about it.”

  “I know, but we don’t want her to get a big head or anything.”

  “It’ll match my big stomach,” Billie said with a grin.

  Daphne didn’t know what to say. Just then she heard a rapid clicking sound. She glanced around and saw a small Yorkshire terrier exploring the main salon of the harem.

  “That’s Muffin,” Billie said. “My other baby.”

  “I didn’t know there were any dogs at the palace,” Daphne said. “Doesn’t the king only keep cats?”

  “He’s taken a liking to Muffin,” Billie said. “Which is great because she gets into all kinds of trouble.” She rubbed the small of her back. “Mind if I take a load off?”

  “What? Oh, sorry. Please.” Daphne motioned to the closest grouping of sofas. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  The women sat down. Daphne stared from one to the other, not sure what to make of them. The last time she’d been in Bahania, all of Murat’s brothers had been happy bachelors.

  “I read about your weddings, of course,” she said, then glanced at Emma. “Well, not yours.”

  “I know,” she said as she flipped her red hair over her shoulder. “We were a scandal. But I thought the ceremony to renew our vows was very lovely.”

  “The pictures were great.” Daphne turned to Billie. “You’re married to Jefri?”

  The pregnant woman nodded. “I’m embarrassed to say he swept me off my feet, and in the shoes I wear, that’s a trick.”

  The women laughed. Daphne sensed their closeness and felt a twinge of envy. She’d never had that kind of relationship with her own sisters.

  Cleo scooted forward on the sofa. “There are five of us altogether. I know it sounds confusing, but it’s really simple. The king has four sons and two daughters. Of the girls, Sabrina is married to Kardal and they live, ah, out of the country. Zara, his other daughter, is married to Rafe. Zara didn’t know the king was her father until a few years ago.”

  “I remember reading about that. Very romantic.”

  “I thought so,” Cleo said.

  Billie groaned. “You think everything is romantic.”

  Emma sighed. “These two argue a lot.
I think they’re too much alike. The fighting doesn’t mean anything, but sometimes it gets a little old.”

  “I’m ignoring you,” Cleo said to Emma.

  “Me, too,” Billie added.

  Daphne couldn’t help grinning. “Do you three live in the palace?” They could certainly make her brief stay more fun.

  “They do,” Emma said, pointing to the other two women. “As I said, I’m married to Reyhan, and we spend much of our time out in the desert. Reyhan inherited a house there from his aunt. Billie and Jefri and Cleo and Sadik make their home in the palace. Billie and Jefri are involved with the new air force. Billie’s a flight instructor. She flies jets.”

  Daphne couldn’t imagine the big-haired sex kitten flying anything more complicated than a paper airplane. “You’re kidding?”

  Billie grinned. “Never underestimate the power of a woman.”

  “I guess not.”

  Emma continued. “I’m in town for a few days while Reyhan has some meetings. We brought the baby.” Her face softened as she smiled. “We have a daughter.”

  “That’s two for two,” Billie said. “I have a daughter, too. Wouldn’t it be funny if there weren’t any male heirs?”

  “Not to the men in the family,” Daphne said.

  “Good point,” Billie said. “So Zara and Sabrina will be out in a few weeks to meet you. They said to say hi for them in the meantime.”

  Talk about overwhelming, Daphne thought. “You’re very sweet to visit me.”

  “Not a problem,” Cleo said. She fluffed her short, blond hair. “Besides, we want all the details. This engagement has come about very quickly.”

  “That’s subtle,” Billie said.

  “Well, it has,” Cleo insisted.

  Emma cleared her throat. “I think what she means is how wonderful that you and Murat have found each other.”

  Daphne hated to burst their bubble, but she wouldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t. “Murat and I haven’t found anything. I don’t know why he announced we’re engaged, because we’re not. And there isn’t going to be a wedding.”

  The three women looked at each other, then at her.

  “That changes things,” Cleo said brightly.

  Daphne smoothed the hem of her skirt. “I know it sounds terrible.”

  “Not at all,” Emma said.

  “Sort of,” Billie said.

  Daphne couldn’t help smiling. “You guys are great.”

  “Thanks,” Cleo said, preening a little. “I like to think we’re pretty special.”

  Daphne chuckled for a second, then sobered as she thought about her impossible situation. “My family is big into politics and power,” she said. “Years ago I was traveling through Europe during a summer break from college and I met Murat. I didn’t know who he was and we hit it off. When he invited me back here, I was stunned to find out I’d been dating the crown prince.”

  “I know that feeling,” Emma said. “Reyhan isn’t going to be king, but he’s still royal. I had no idea.”

  Billie put her arm around Emma. “She’s our innocent.”

  Daphne sighed. “Then you can imagine my shock. Before I knew what had happened, we were engaged and everything was moving so quickly.”

  Billie frowned. “Were engaged. Obviously you didn’t get married.”

  “I think I remember reading about that,” Billie said. “Ten years ago I was a serious tabloid junkie.”

  “You still read the tabloids,” Cleo said.

  “Yeah, and then you steal them from me.”

  “Ladies,” Emma said, holding up her hand to stop their bickering. “I believe Daphne was talking.”

  Cleo smiled at her. “Go on, Daphne.”

  “There’s not much else to say. Things didn’t work out and I left. My family was furious and didn’t speak to me for ages. Eventually we patched things up.” Sort of. Her mother had never really forgiven her for not marrying a future king. “Then a few weeks ago my niece, who is barely eighteen, told me that she was flying over to meet Murat and get engaged.”

  Billie raised her eyebrows. “What? That doesn’t sound right.”

  “I agree,” Cleo said. “Murat can be all formal with his ‘I’m the crown prince’ but he’s never been into silly young women.” She winced. “Sorry. Not that your niece is silly or anything.”

  “I know what you mean,” Daphne said. “She’s still a kid in so many ways. She’s only had a couple of boyfriends and none of them were serious. Murat is nearly twice her age. I was determined to talk her out of it, which I did, just in the nick of time. We were flying here when she suddenly realized she was making a huge mistake. So she went back to the States, and I stayed to tell Murat there wasn’t going to be an engagement. The next thing I knew I was locked in the harem and he was announcing our engagement in the papers.”

  Emma sighed. “That’s so romantic.”

  Cleo and Billie looked at her. “That’s kidnapping,” Cleo said.

  “Well, maybe technically, but he must really love her.”

  Daphne shook her head. “I hate to burst your bubble, but Murat doesn’t love me. It’s been ten years. He doesn’t even know me anymore.”

  “So why the sudden engagement?” Billie asked.

  “I have no idea,” Daphne told her.

  “He has to have a reason,” Cleo said. “Men always do things for a reason. Has he been pining for you all these years?”

  “Gee, let’s count the number of women he’s been out with in that time,” Daphne said humorously. “I’m going to guess it’s around a hundred or so.”

  “But he wasn’t serious about any of them.”

  Emma scooted forward in her seat. “If it’s not too personal, why did you leave last time?”

  Good question. “There were a lot of reasons. Things moved so quickly—I didn’t get a chance to figure out if this was the life I wanted before I found myself engaged. When reality set in, I panicked.”

  “But you loved him,” Billie said. “Didn’t you?”

  “As much as I could at the time.” Daphne thought back to how brightly her feelings had burned. “I was pretty innocent, and Murat was the first guy I’d been serious about. I’m not sure I knew what love was. We were so different.”

  Although getting over him had taken what felt like a lifetime. She still had scars.

  Cleo smiled at her. “Ah, to be that young again. Wouldn’t you like to go back in time and talk to that Daphne?”

  “I don’t know what I would say to her.”

  “Would you tell her to stay?” Cleo asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Emma asked. “Are we getting too personal? Does this feel like an interrogation?”

  “I’m okay,” Daphne told her. “And I wouldn’t have told her to stay because I know what happened after. Murat didn’t love her…me. He didn’t bother to come after me. Not a phone call or a letter. He never cared enough to find out why I’d left.”

  She expected the three princesses to look shocked. Instead Cleo sighed, Billie shook her head, and Emma’s expression turned sad.

  “It’s pride,” Emma said. “They have too much of it. It’s a sheik thing. Or maybe a royal thing.”

  “I’m not sure what pride has to do with it.”

  Cleo shrugged. “You have to look at it from his point of view. He offered you everything, and you walked away. That had to have tweaked his tail just a little. Tweaked princes don’t go running after women.”

  “Mere women,” Billie said in a stern voice. “You are a mere woman.”

  Emma grinned. “The princes are so cute when they’re all imperious.”

  Daphne felt as if she’d just sat down with the crazy family. “What are you talking about?”

  “That you can’t judge Murat’s feelings for you solely on whether or not he came running after you when you left,” Cleo said. “He’s the crown prince and has that ego thing going on even more than his brothers. It’s possible that in that twisted ‘
I’m the man’ brain of his, he thought it would show too much weakness.”

  “But if he’d cared…”

  “It’s not about caring,” Emma said. “You’re looking at the situation logically, and like a woman. Reyhan loved me and yet he ignored me for years. His pride wouldn’t let him talk to someone he thought had rejected him, let alone admit his feelings. Murat could be the same way.”

  Daphne thought about all the women he’d seen over the past decade. “I don’t think he’s actually been doing a lot of suffering.”

  “Maybe not,” Cleo said. “But it’s something to think about. If he matters at all.”

  Just then the gold doors opened and several servants entered with carts.

  Billie smiled. “Did we mention we’d brought lunch?”

  The women gathered around the dining room table and enjoyed the delicious food. Conversation shifted from Daphne and her situation to how each of them had met their husbands, then to shopping and the best place to get really gorgeous, if uncomfortable, shoes. They left a little after three.

  Daphne closed the door behind them, then retreated to the sofa in front of the garden window. Despite everything, she’d had a nice day. Had her engagement to Murat been real, she would have been delighted to know that these women would be a part of her life.

  But it wasn’t real, and their theory that Murat’s pride had kept him from holding on to her was nice to think about but was not in any way true.

  “Not that it matters now,” she whispered. Somehow she’d managed to get over him. At least she didn’t have to worry about that now. Her feelings weren’t engaged and her heart was firmly out of reach. She was going to make sure things stayed that way.

  Daphne planned a quiet remainder of the day. She assumed Murat wouldn’t come back to torment her until the morning, and she was partially right. Around four the gold doors opened again, but instead of the crown prince, she saw the king.