by Avery Laval
Jana read her mind. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up and help you figure out what to wear. If you don’t mind waiting a moment? I’d love to see him.”
Marissa smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Me too,” she admitted.
Just then the crowd of security personnel began to thin out and a hushed silence fell over the hall. Then came the sound of two men entering, deep in conversation. There could be no doubt in Marissa’s mind whom she was listening to. Khalid’s voice had an effect on her like no other.
“The bottom line,” he was saying in English, “is that we will have to continue to press the issue with the old man if we want the beach to remain pristine until we are ready to announce the national park. I’ll need to make a trip up there again in the next few weeks to stay on top of the situation. Politically, of course, that relationship is tenuous, so I don’t think just sending a representative will do the trick.”
Marissa knew he was talking about frequent trips to the house of Nuriyah’s father, but she found herself less upset by that than she thought she would be. Instead she was simply happy to hear the park plans were progressing.
An older voice, clearly that of Abdul-Malik, chimed in, his voice loud and clear even around the corner where they stood. “I don’t know which was the bigger mistake—forcing you to marry that woman or allowing you to annul the marriage when it didn’t work.” There was a hint of teasing in his voice, but still his words reminded Marissa how duty bound her future husband was, and always would be.
“Trust me, this palace is better off without her,” she heard Khalid say.
“But you still need an heir.”
“What I need is a wife,” Khalid responded quickly. “And,” he added more softly, “I have a very good candidate for that position.”
“There is a woman?” Abdul-Malik asked with unmasked curiosity. Then he paused. “What is the opinion of this woman around the palace?”
“I don’t intend to choose my bride by public opinion. But having said that, she is quite well liked, it seems, and no wonder. I think she will bring a great deal to our family.”
At this Marissa smiled and turned to Jana, whispering, “Maybe we should give them their privacy.” But before the other woman could respond, Abdul-Malik’s voice cut through the silence.
“Amid, have you met this woman? What do you think of her?”
Marissa froze, and her heart, which had been beating ever faster as she heard Khalid’s words, skidded to a stop. Amid was with them? She hadn’t heard his voice once since they’d returned.
She knew she should leave, but she was now riveted to her spot. She leaned a little toward the great hall, to see if she could get a peek at the men, but they were still too far away.
“Your Highness, sir, I wish you would not ask that question.”
Her stomach flipped over.
“Now I want to know even more, Amid. Out with it.”
There was a long pause and then the unmistakable sound of Amid’s low voice. “I believe she is unreliable, sir.”
Stars of fury passed before Marissa’s eyes. If Jana hadn’t been quick enough to grab her by the shoulder and keep her in place, she would have surged right into that great hall, towel, robe and all.
Instead she was forced to stand there in silence while Amid pressed on. “She is in constant contact with an American man, and last night I heard her tell him that she was dying to return to him. It is my impression that she is using the prince, sir, and is not trustworthy.”
Marissa heard his lying words and reeled at them, unable to breathe. In the hall, there was utter silence, and for a long moment her heart felt as though it was suspended in mid air, waiting for gravity to take over and smash it to pieces.
“Khalid, you must send this woman away at once.” Abdul-Malik’s words brought bright hot tears to Marissa’s eyes. She felt her body frozen in place, felt Jana’s kind touch on her back and wondered—does Jana trust me, at least? Or does everyone assume the worst about me? Even the man I love.
Then Khalid did speak, and his words pulled her heart back from the precipice. “I will do no such thing. Amid, I let you stay after your last outburst because you begged me, and you were once my father’s most trusted confidant. You swore you had made a mistake, and I could sympathize because I made plenty in my early years here. But now I know you are simply lying—I don’t know why, and I don’t care. Pack up your things and go.”
Marissa’s eyes popped out of her head. She had not expected that.
“Go!” Khalid said again, this time the word a royal decree.
There was a pregnant pause, and Marissa let herself lean forward another inch, saw Amid looking frantically between the two Abbasi men.
“You heard my grandson. You are dismissed.”
“But, sir,” Amid protested. “I’m only trying to protect the royal family from a deeply inappropriate arrangement. Your wife should be a Rifaisi maiden. You need someone who will secure your place here. Not an American harlot who does not know our customs.”
“I strongly encourage you to watch your tongue, or you may find it incredibly difficult to find new employment in this country.” Khalid’s voice rumbled.
Amid responded in Arabic, his voice low and bitter enough to make Marissa glad she couldn’t understand him. But she did understand the sound of his shoes stomping away, to the front door and away from her life forever. God help her, but she felt relieved.
Khalid’s voice cut through her musings. “Grandfather,” he began. “There will be resistance to my choice of bride, even beyond Amid’s machinations. She is an American, and I know that invites speculation. There will be gossip about a trip to the States or a visit from a friend, but I’ve learned I can trust her with complete confidence. And I have seen in her eyes how much she will come to love our country. The ports and dunes and beaches—all have taken up residence in her heart already.”
“And your heart?”
“Belongs to her. And only her,” he answered, and Marissa couldn’t stop the rush of tears to her eyes at those words. She had given her love to him once, and never quite gotten it back. And finally she knew it was safe in his hands.
She turned to Jana—to her friend. “Upstairs?” she whispered, knowing they had lingered long enough. A crowd of staff had gathered, from office assistants to maids, everyone straining for a look at their recovering king. But now they were looking at Marissa with admiration, and she felt every bit as desirable as Nuriyah or any other woman in the world. She grinned, and then let herself be whisked away by Jana to her bedroom, where she dressed in moments and rushed back down to greet Khalid.
When he intercepted her in the hallway that led to her bedroom, she gasped with pleasure and wrapped her arms around him, demanding a long searing kiss before either one of them said another word.
“You heard everything, I take it?” Khalid said when they finally separated. “I found quite a gathered audience in every direction when I left the great hall.”
Marissa nodded. “I hope you know I didn’t mean to snoop. I wanted to see you—but I wasn’t dressed properly.”
Khalid groaned. “I’m sorry to have missed that. You are dressed far too properly for my tastes right now.”
“It’s for the best,” she told him, her eyes aglow with excitement. “Because I want to tell everyone in the palace what’s in my heart this very instant.”
He pulled back, stared deep into her eyes with undisguised joy. “So you’ve decided?”
Marissa laughed. “Of course! I want to marry you, Khalid. I think I always have.”
He laughed too, and then pulled her to him and pressed kiss after kiss onto her forehead, her eyes, her lips, her cheeks. “Well then, come with me,” he said, voice resonating with happiness. “I want my grandfather to meet my very own Rifaisi princess.”
14
18 months later
The hospital was abustle when the honored guests arrived that evening. Marissa’s mother was the first to make
it in, bubbling and energetic despite the long journey from the States. Then came her cousin Natalie and brothers Knox, Carter, and Ty Madden, who had used this trip as an excuse to pursue their latest brotherly endeavor, extreme surfing, egged on by Natalie’s boyfriend Charlie, a professional athlete who was afraid of nothing.
Making a more leisurely trip were Grant and Jenna and their new twins. The Blakelys had stopped overnight on each leg of the journey to make it more manageable. It was their first time in Rifaisa, though not the first time they’d seen the happy couple, since Marissa and Khalid made the trip to Las Vegas and back every time the slightest occasion warranted it.
They all made a noisy crowd, filling the halls outside Marissa’s private birthing suite. Her brothers, beaming with joy, kept trying to force cigars on Khalid’s hapless, nonsmoking security guards, and her mother was knitting frantically away at a beautiful blue and grey cashmere baby blanket that she’d hoped would be finished by now. After all, Marissa’s labor had come a week late. But there had just been so many other things to do besides knit—like buy everything in the baby store she could fit on a plane, and then a bit more that had to be shipped.
Now, once the nurse had given permission for visitors, it took all three of Marissa’s brothers to cart in all of the beautiful flowers her family had managed to procure. And when they did, they soon found that even the Madden family couldn’t compete with the royal gardener, for Khalid’s gift was a towering bouquet of tea roses, in full bloom, many the size of a woman’s hand. Behind all the majesty was an exhausted new mother clutching her beautiful baby boy and beaming.
“He’s a stunner,” said Carter as he gingerly wrapped his arms around his baby sister. For such a strong man, he was clearly terrified by the delicate little blanket full of perfection that rested in her arms. “And just on time. A few more days and we’d have missed him altogether.”
Marissa laughed. “I know! I was worried that the only thing you’d see on your trip to Rifaisa is a big fat version of me. And one cool-as-a-cucumber daddy-to-be,” she added, tipping her face up to smile at her amazing husband, who hadn’t broken a sweat all week, despite the long delay and the bed rest she’d been through. Only she knew just how excited he was in those last few days. To everyone else he seemed the picture of a perfectly confident prince.
“I just wanted everyone healthy and happy,” Khalid said. “And I have that.” He leaned over at the waist and pressed a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I have everything I could ever want.” He moved from his new son to his wife, and whispered in her ear, “I have you, Habibti,” and then smiled ever so slightly when he saw the shiver of pleasure flash across her face.
Suddenly there was a big ruckus at the door. “Excuse me,” Marissa heard a familiar voice say in Arabic, “but I’m going in there, security sweep or not. That’s my great-grandson in there!” Her face broke out in a grin. Even though her understanding wasn’t one hundred percent yet, she knew enough of her new home language to know her grandfather-in-law was just as excited as everyone else to see the baby.
“Where is he?” Abdul-Malik demanded. Everyone in the room was circled around Marissa’s bed as if she were the most fascinating person in the world. “Aha! There they are. The beautiful royal family,” he announced in English. He made his way to the bedside, while her mother and sister fumbled with their headscarves in deference to his position. Finally he was in position to put a kiss on his grandson, and then tenderly pushed a stray hair out of Marissa’s face before saying, “I’m so proud of you both.”
“We are too,” chimed in Marissa’s mother. “You make a stunning family.”
Marissa smiled, thinking that her family was indeed the most stunningly wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. And just as her husband dropped another kiss on her lips and she felt her son stir slightly in her arms, and the flashes of cameras began to fill the room as her friends and family gave in to the urge to capture the moment, she closed her eyes to take it all in.
It felt so right.
Sneak Peek: A TYCOON’S JEWEL
The Sin City Tycoons Series: Book 1
Can a man who came from nothing trust a woman who lost everything?
Six years ago, Jenna McCormick lost it all—her parents, her fortune, and her family’s jewelry empire. After the shock wore off, Jenna realized she didn’t need her fortune to be happy. Today, she has her brother’s love and a small apartment. She doesn’t miss the champagne lifestyle she left behind. But she can never forget the day Grant Blakely stole her family’s company, placing himself at the helm. She was half in love with Grant, her father’s protege, now the youngest black CEO in Las Vegas history. She never wanted to ask him for help. But now she has no choice.
When Jenna asks Grant for a job, he’s certain she must be joking. Even Jenna couldn’t have burned through her trust fund that fast. She’s persuasive, though, and her appeal hasn’t faded. Grant tests Jenna’s resolve: he hires her, but as his assistant. She won’t be able to put up with the menial tasks and hard hours of a real job. But Grant fails to predict how the sizzling attraction grows between them as he discovers she’s not the playgirl she used to be.
Soon, the spark between them reignites. But can Grant trust her? And can Jenna trust the man who took everything from her?
Read on for a preview of A Tycoon’s Jewel.
1
It took a great deal to surprise Grant Blakely. He’d seen a lot of nonsense in his position as CEO of McCormick Jewels, to say nothing of what he’d dealt with as he’d built up a real estate portfolio that covered valuable properties in Las Vegas and beyond. And then there was his father, the true master of surprise.
But walking into the waiting room outside his own office and finding the woman he’d wrestled the company away from six years ago, perched on a straight-backed chair and looking out-of-sorts—and yes, really, really good?
That was the biggest surprise he’d had in a long time.
He paused in the doorway, where he could just watch her for a moment, undetected, and leaned against the doorjamb to take in the sight. Long brown hair fell around her shoulders in pools. She drummed her fingernails on her knees and bounced her heels in and out of a pair of incredibly high-heeled, uncomfortable-looking black stilettos. She’d always been attractive, but in the last six years, she’d become an absolute knockout. She looked nervous, and seriously alluring.
Well then. Jenna McCormick, all grown up and sitting in his lobby, shaking like a doe in hunting season. Grant uncrossed his arms, pushed himself away from the door, and cleared his throat as he approached, enjoying the startled look on her face when she realized he’d been watching her.
“Good morning, Ms. McCormick,” he said, smooth as a cat with a smile to match. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The woman—for she was certainly not the shiny-eyed party girl she’d been the last time they’d met—jumped up out of her chair and spun around to face him. Her large dark eyes opened and shut tight a few times in rapid succession, as if she couldn’t believe he’d snuck up on her. When really, Grant thought, she should have been expecting exactly that, considering their history.
He watched with some pleasure as she rearranged her features, hiding her disarmament with a cryptic smile, as though she’d known he was there all along. “Grant Blakely,” she said, extending a hand. “How nice to see you. It’s been a long time.”
Grant ignored her outstretched hand and moved past her to the door of his office, opened it, and tried not to show his curiosity. “Six years,” he said. He moved into the office and maneuvered around his heavy mahogany desk, knowing well enough that she would need no invitation to follow. “Six very prosperous years for McCormick Jewels.” He dropped into his heavy black leather chair and gestured at the trappings of the company’s newfound success.
Jenna moved to the middle of the room and took in the framed glossy magazine covers featuring the company’s most beautiful designs and the rows of industry awards tha
t weighed down a glass bookshelf to his left. Her face gave away a mix of jealousy and regret. Good. He’d brought the company a long way in the time since she had nearly run it—and him—into the ground, and he wasn’t about to let her forget it.
“It would be hard not to notice how successful you’ve been,” she said at last, though her wording made him suspect that she’d tried. “Features in the Times, the Journal, the Sun. According to Fortune you’re the youngest black man to run a major corporation in this town. And how could anyone miss the cover of Essence’s ‘40 bachelors under 40’ issue? I must admit, it’s all very impressive. You deserve congratulations.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. Though her words were polite, she seemed to be forcing them from her lips. “It sounds like you’ve been following my press quite closely.” He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head like he was sprawling on a beach chair. “I’m flattered,” he said, not hiding his sarcasm, “though you’re the last person I expected to deliver congratulations, considering our… history.”
Jenna’s expression remained controlled, but her mouth twisted just a bit at his insinuation. “If by history you mean the way you stole my family’s company out from under me—” she began hotly, but then seemed to catch herself and started again in a much milder tone. “What I mean to say is, I do regret…that we parted on such bad terms.” She turned to face him directly and gave him a polite smile. “But I’m truly glad to see the company my father worked so hard to build is doing well. He would have been very proud,” she added, her smile warming just slightly.
Grant’s suspicions grew. The fiery brat who’d given him such a fight the last time they’d met would never have sat across the desk from him and smiled meekly at his domination.
Unless she wanted something. “So you came in to see me today just to wish me well, then?” he asked, moving his arms to cross them in front of his chest.
