by Avery Laval
Good, thought Khalid. He knew it was selfish, but he needed an emergency to distract him. He couldn’t just sit around all day waiting for the disappointment to wash over him like a tide going out to sea. He quickly typed back to both aides that they needed to arrange a quick flight to the home of the sheikhs he’d been dealing with. Jana would attend, he decided. The last thing he needed was one of Amid’s indiscreet side comments about Marissa at a time like this.
Then, as an afterthought, he added a separate email just to Jana, telling her that Marissa would need assistance in planning her return to the States, and that if she wanted to wait for his business to conclude, she could use the private jet for her trip—it was up to her. Explaining no further, he hit send, clicked off his mobile, and made for the shower. There, he thought with satisfaction. He’d offered Marissa an easy way out. He’d be away for at least a couple of days. She could take a commercial flight and never even have to say good-bye. Or, if she chose to wait, well, then that would mean that maybe they had a second chance.
She wouldn’t wait, he reminded himself. She’d made no secret that she was anxious to be out from under him. Though she’d seemed so comfortable in that position, he remembered with an anguished grimace. Again he thanked his luck that he had a reason to get out of Rifaisa for enough time to forget the amazing sex they’d shared. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he’d let her leave. And more time together was the last thing either of them needed.
As he packed his bags and pulled on the traditional robes and lightweight wool trousers that were appropriate for his destination, he reminded himself that there would be other women. If it was a child he wanted so much—and judging from the intense disappointment he was battling, he did—there would be a line of women just waiting to become princesses upon his return. Women who would be more docile and more trustworthy.
Women who paled in comparison to Marissa.
But that was how life was, he knew. Full of compromises. He was, by now, used to giving up things he wanted—his old life, his freedom, his privacy—to be a dutiful leader. And even before, when he’d been a boy, he’d given up dreams of family before he’d been old enough to understand the word “compromise.” Now he would give up Marissa—and whatever it was about her that he found so hard to resist—to marry someone more reliable—to make sure his children never had to feel that loss that had followed him around his entire life.
It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
Khalid looked down. Somehow he’d managed to stuff a suitcase full of clothes and ready himself for his trip without being able to think straight. He hoped he hadn’t just packed six pairs of pants and nothing else, he thought wryly. But if he had, he was the prince of Rifaisa. Someone would give him a pair of shoes and never say a word about what on earth he was thinking, who was distracting him so much this morning. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even realize he packed his own bags.
And the only woman who would dare to point out his shortcomings would be on a plane, bound for the States and out of his life for good.
Which was exactly how he wanted it.
Marissa was in the pool when she discovered Khalid was gone. She’d spent an hour wallowing in her bedroom before she’d reared up and decided she couldn’t just lie around all day. Every day since they’d arrived she’d gone for a swim in the beautiful glassed-in pool off the north side of the palace, and it had helped her work off her nervous energy while waiting for an answer. Today she hoped it would help distract her from the sharp ache in her chest that came from knowing for sure she wasn’t pregnant and wishing for something she should never have wanted.
She pulled on the modest teal blue one-piece that Jana had found for her and slipped into the warm water, letting herself imagine that, like a load of dirty laundry, all she needed was a good soak. It did help—for as long as she kept moving her arms through the water. The moment she stopped, exhausted and breathing hard from the work of kicking her legs, it all came rushing back—her period, seeing the look on Khalid’s face this morning, and watching him walk away.
And then she noticed she was not alone. A maid she recognized was standing by the side of the water, watching her intently. She swam to the edge and hung off the side of the pool. “Good morning,” she said in Arabic. It was the only phrase she’d really mastered so far. Well, that and “Good evening.” She had always had such a tough time with languages.
The woman smiled politely and nodded her head slightly. Then she began to speak in a very wary English that Marissa appreciated enormously. “Amid sends me,” she began, and then paused a long time to find more words. “I tell you,” she went on, “the prince is leave. You come with me?” Marissa noticed she held an enormous fluffy white robe, and pulled herself out of the water, her heart sinking.
Of course the prince is leave, she thought. He is leave at the first chance he gets.
She toweled off and wrapped herself in the long heavy robe, letting the maid fuss with the neckline until not an inch of skin remained visible. Then she slipped her feet into the closed-toed slippers she’d brought with her and followed her obediently, knowing Amid was waiting with her marching orders, too modest to step inside the pool room while she was in swimwear. When she found him waiting in the great hall, he stood politely and smiled the biggest smile she’d seen on his face since she’d met him.
“Ms. Madden,” he said smoothly, dismissing the maid with a tip of the head. “My apologies for interrupting your swim. The prince said you would want to leave as soon as possible and I wanted to help you plan your travel.” He paused. “Was the other swimming suit not to your liking?”
“The other?”
“From the yacht.”
Amid had given her that bikini? Suddenly the reek of chlorine lingering on her skin made her nauseated. She wanted to rush away and hide in the shower and avoid this conversation. She wanted to avoid the humiliation of being dismissed by Khalid’s staff. Instead she dug deep and forced her biggest smile back at him. “Thank you, Amid. How very thoughtful of you.”
His own smile faltered as he gestured to a pair of armchairs nearby and they both sat down. “Mr. Abbasi had to leave quite suddenly on business, so he sends his apologies. He wishes to provide you the best-quality travel back to Cairo, where I can arrange with your airline to schedule the deferred ticket to Las Vegas.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“The earliest flight to Cairo leaves tonight, meaning you’ll need to spend the night there and fly to the States tomorrow, assuming I can secure tickets in time. Would you like a room in the Four Seasons again, or would you prefer different accommodations?”
“The Four Seasons is more than fine, thank you,” she replied, but then thought again. “It’s really no emergency. I’m happy to stay here tonight, rather than spend the night in a hotel.”
Amid’s face twisted slightly, adding to Marissa’s suspicions. “Certainly. In that case I’ll arrange travel for first thing tomorrow morning, with a connecting flight in the afternoon.” He looked at his watch and paused for only a moment. “You’ll be back in Las Vegas by midnight local time.”
Marissa raised her eyebrows, impressed by Amid’s mental calculations of flight durations and time zones. Clearly it was his sharp mind that had taken him so far in his career, since his manners left something to be desired. “That sounds fine,” she said. “Will the prince be back by this evening from his business?” Would she get to say good-bye?
“Most likely not,” Amid replied, shaking his head pleasantly. “I’ll just be off to arrange the tickets now,” he said, starting to rise.
“Wait.” Forgetting herself, Marissa caught him by the arm to hold him back in the seat. He practically jumped to get away from her touch, and at once she remembered how Jana had reminded her not to touch men in public, unless she felt very sure they wouldn’t mind. Pulling her hand back, she apologized, first in Arabic, then in English. “I’m so sorry—I forgot.” She put her hands pointedly in her lap,
watching Amid’s eyes as they followed her movement. “I just wanted to ask you if it would be possible to delay my trip home, just until the prince returned?”
Amid practically sneered at her at her request. Marissa frowned. Was she really being that much trouble? “I suppose that could be arranged,” he said, not disguising his irritation. “The prince did offer you the use of his private jet should you care to wait for his return to the palace.”
Marissa thought this over for a moment. Something about the way that last statement was phrased, she wondered if it would be unwise to accept. But she wanted, so badly, to see him one more time. She wanted to say good-bye properly, not vanish into the ether as he had done.
And there was no point in denying it. She wanted to give him one more chance. Not that she thought he would take it. But it couldn’t stop her from hoping.
“That would be perfect,” she said brightly, ignoring the annoyance that Amid made no effort to disguise.
“I’m not sure that is what the prince prefers,” he said, and the words gave Marissa so much doubt she almost changed her mind back to the previous option to cut and run without ever seeing Khalid again.
Then she thought about how she’d felt when he’d done that to her—disappeared out of her life bit by bit and never formally said good-bye. She decided she could not, no matter how much it hurt, do that to someone she loved.
And she knew she loved Khalid.
She knew something in his heart was keeping him from loving her back, despite everything they’d shared, despite the way they could still talk to each other as best friends and make love as soulmates. But knew too, that what she felt for him was nothing less than the real thing, whether it was requited or not.
“I’m sure he’ll understand,” Marissa said, not sure of any such thing but refusing to let Amid bully her. “So it’s settled. I’ll stay here until he comes back from his business. Then we’ll organize my travel home.” Without waiting for another annoyed look or disapproving comment from Amid, she stood and smiled at him brightly and strode out of the hall with her head held high.
But when Khalid did not return the next day, or the day after, Marissa began to doubt her decision. Was he purposely staying away so he wouldn’t have to see her again? Every day Amid came to her and suggested she consider booking her travel, and every day she politely turned him down. But by the fourth day, she began to waver. Desperate for a confidante, she decided to break her silence with the outside world and talk to someone who could help her understand what was going on. Thank goodness for videochat.
When she got Grant and Jenna on the line, she instantly felt better. Something about seeing her friends, who’d had their own rocky time with love, gave her so much more strength.
“Why did I let myself get so isolated?” she asked them, after catching them up just enough.
“We’d like to know the same thing,” Grant exclaimed. “It says here your last log-on was two weeks ago—the last time we talked. And then we get that voicemail from you saying you’ve decided to stay in Cairo.” He shook his head.
“What this control-freak is trying to say is, how can you do this to us?” Jenna reached out to the screen as if she could strangle Marissa over the Internet. “I had Knox on the phone so fast after I got that voicemail, and he calmed me down, but still.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Marissa said, clasping her hands together as if begging for forgiveness. “Things happened so fast. After I talked to my brother I just figured he’d keep you in the loop.”
“Lucky for you, he did,” said Jenna, her voice teasing. “So what’s the deal? You’re in love with Khalid and never coming back?”
“Hardly,” Marissa answered defensively. Then she corrected herself. “Hardly about the never coming back part, at least.”
“But the love part?”
Thanking the technology that allowed her not to answer aloud, she nodded her head yes. “I’m not sure how it happened.”
Both of her friends looked at her, shocked. “But Marissa,” Jenna whined, “he left you all alone last time. Deserted you and married another woman.”
“It turns out there’s more to that story than we realized. He believed some tabloid gossip and let his imagination run wild.”
“That’s idiotic,”’ said Grant.
“As idiotic as when you thought I was trying to steal your company?” asked Jenna pointedly.
Grant frowned at this reference to his past romantic foibles. “That was dumb. But this is dumber.”
“Maybe,” said Marissa, “but so was my letting him slip away. For all the dumb mistakes he made, I made one just as large: I didn’t fight for him. Because it was easier to just let him go than to relive the pain I felt about losing his baby. And now for all I know he’s gone for good and doesn’t plan to come back to his own palace until he’s gotten word I’ve left. Or maybe he’ll come back with the wife he really wants. Someone more suitable to marry a prince.”
Jenna growled at that, and Marissa couldn’t stop a smile at her friend’s protectiveness. “You are perfectly suitable. He should be so lucky to be married to a wonderful person like you.”
“Thanks,” she said, letting her friend’s kind words wash over her. “But at the same time, I can see where our relationship would be tricky for his citizens to swallow. He has so many responsibilities to juggle. On top of which, he doesn’t think he can trust me.”
Grant leaned into the screen. “Is there any reason you can think of that would lead him to distrust you?”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “Are you being sarcastic?”
Confused, he furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, of course not. What do you mean by that?”
“I mean of course he wouldn’t trust me. I never told him about the baby I lost. Even before the accident. And given Khalid’s history in the foster system after being dumped by his own father, that’s enough to feel totally betrayed.”
Grant’s mouth popped open in a round O shape. “Okay, I get why you’d think that would make him distrustful, but you explained why you didn’t tell him, right? He has to understand the circumstances by now.”
Marissa nodded. “I tried, but it didn’t seem to make much difference. He’s really upset about it.”
Jenna tilted her head. “Well, from where I sit, if he has a forgiving bone in his body, he should have seen fit by now to see that situation from your side and let it go. After all, if he had come back for you like he’d promised, you’d have never kept the pregnancy a secret.”
Marissa chewed on her friend’s words. “Stupid tabloids.”
“Let me tell you about my own experiences with successful men,” Jenna said, nodding her head toward Grant. “Sometimes they’re too stubborn to realize how much they love you, so they push you away just to protect themselves. But they have to work that out for themselves. And if they don’t, another guy is just around the corner.”
Marissa nodded again, but inside she couldn’t have disagreed more. Khalid was a fine man. He had done great things for his country, and for the natural world around him. He gave up so much to do his duty. And she knew for sure no one could ever make her feel as amazing as he had in just a few short weeks.
“What are you thinking right now, Mari?” asked Jenna. “You’ve got that faraway look in your eye.”
Caught out in her thoughts, Marissa confessed. “I’m thinking that you are partly right. There probably is something on his mind that’s keeping him from trusting me all the way, and until I know what that is, I’m staying here. I’m not letting this slip away again over a stupid misunderstanding. If this isn’t going to work, fine. But before I leave with my tail between my legs, I’m going to be honest about how I feel and make sure it’s really over.”
Jenna shook her head adamantly. “You can’t do that. You’ll end up getting your heart broken. Please come home,” she begged. But then her husband held up one hand, and she looked at him, her words halting.
“If she wants to ta
ke this chance, she should,” he said. “Remember this: Marissa was the one who talked you into giving me that second chance. She was right then. Maybe she’s doing the right thing now.” He turned to face the screen. “Do what’s in your heart. But if it doesn’t work out—”
“—and we’re just a bit worried that it won’t,” interrupted Jenna.
“If it doesn’t work out, we’re here for you.” Grant finished.
“We love you, Marissa,” added Jenna. “Keep us updated. If you need someone to talk to while you’re waiting for him to come back, just call.”
“Thanks, guys. Believe me, I will. And I love you too,” she said, and they disconnected. Marissa leaned back from her laptop, let herself flop over on the bed where Khalid had shown her so much, had reawakened a part of her that she’d forgotten could still exist. The passionate part. She would be damned if she let that go so easily. The last time he’d left, she’d just let him go without a fight. And then, after she’d lost the baby, she’d avoided his calls for months, so absorbed in her own grief that she couldn’t even think of what he must have been feeling. This time she’d do whatever it took to see things through his eyes. And if that didn’t work—and she was so, so afraid that it wouldn’t—at least she’d know she’d tried.
It didn’t matter if it took him months to come back. She would wait. As long as it took.
11
Khalid was a long way from his palace. But he found soon enough that everything reminded him of his home and the woman he’d left there. The woman who was no doubt gone by now. It was day five on his interminable business trip, and still he had no contract nailed down, and no rest from the constant thoughts of Marissa that chased him into every business meeting and legal wrangling session. He thanked the heavens he was able to bring Jana along for this trip—she was so easily able to cover for his mental wanderings that he hardly needed to be there except as a figurehead.
