Liana was about to point out that she was also twenty pounds overweight, but she figured there wasn’t any point. Either Dora’s dress would fit or it wouldn’t.
“If that doesn’t work, I’ll bet we can find something else,” Heidi said encouragingly. “Then we’ll do your makeup and pin up your hair and you’ll really feel like a princess.”
Liana doubted that was possible, but she decided not to point out the obvious—that she was a nobody and would remain a nobody. Maybe she could fake being a princess for a night.
Dora rose to her feet and led the way out of the harem. “How do you feel about tiaras?” she asked, her expression serious.
Liana blinked. “I’ve never thought about them one way or the other.”
“Then you’d better start thinking about them because you’ll be wearing one tonight.”
An honest-to-goodness tiara, Liana thought three hours later as she stared at herself in the mirror. Actually she was staring at a woman who looked a lot like herself but was really someone else. She’d never known she could look this good!
Maybe it was the dress or the makeup or the diamonds glittering in her hair. Maybe it was a magic night, and she was caught up in the glow. Whatever the reason, she felt as if she actually looked like a princess.
The gown Dora had loaned her was midnight-blue velvet. The sweetheart neckline dipped low enough to show a hint of cleavage. The fabric smoothed over her body, emphasizing the good curves and hiding the bulges. Small capped sleeves left her arms bare, while the flowing fabric covered the rest of her to the floor.
After Liana was dressed, Heidi had seen to her hair, pulling it up and away from her face. Pins secured the elegant chignon in place. Her bangs had been curled and sprayed and behind them glittered a real diamond tiara. The gems sparkled, and that light added a glow to her eyes. Or maybe it was Fatima’s makeup. Liana had never been one to bother with cosmetics, but the king’s mother knew secrets that made eyes widen and skin seem porcelain perfect.
Liana’s gaze drifted over her reflection, taking in the color staining her cheeks and her mouth, the way her hairstyle made her neck appear long and slender. For the first time in her life she felt truly beautiful. Even if all the finery disappeared at midnight, she didn’t care. At least she’d had the experience of looking like a princess.
A knock at her door startled her. She walked slowly toward the entrance, her unfamiliar high heels slowing her down. But instead of finding Bethany or one of the servants waiting in the hall, she saw Malik standing there.
He wore a black tuxedo and white shirt. The combination of perfect tailoring and his impressive body nearly took her breath away. He was beautiful enough to star in all her daydreams for several lifetimes. Dark eyes regarded her thoughtfully.
“You look lovely,” he said.
She had to force herself to inhale before she could speak. “Ah, thanks.”
“I heard that you wished to attend the dinner tonight. We honor our neighbors to the east. Bahania is a country much like our own—a nation with a monarchy and a desire to maintain a hold on the past while moving toward the future. My grandmother is from that land.”
She nodded. Fatima had already told her a little about what to expect at the dinner. “Do you mind if I come along? You didn’t mention it to me, and if I’m intruding….” Her voice trailed off.
Malik’s expression hardened. “I didn’t tell you because you made it clear you weren’t interested in acting as my wife in any capacity. If that has changed, you are welcome to be at my side.”
He’d answered the question without telling her what he was thinking. But that didn’t surprise her. She’d hardly been open and friendly since finding out about their marriage. Not that he had any right to expect anything different from her. After all, he’d been completely wrong to trick her into marriage. Still, she was realistic enough to know that if she was really going to take the time to get to know the man, she had to stop being mad at him all of the time.
Before she could figure out what to say next, Malik thrust a wooden box into her hands. It was about the size of a loaf of bread.
“These are for you,” he said gruffly. “They are yours alone. They did not belong to Iman. What was hers was sold. I gave the proceeds to the poor.”
Liana had no idea what he was talking about until she opened the lid of the box and found herself staring at a collection of jewels. Diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds and pearls lay tangled together. The display was so opulent, she had a fleeting thought that they couldn’t possibly be real. Yet she knew they were.
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured in complete truthfulness. What did one say when presented with such a gift? Malik reached into the box and drew out a stunning sapphire and diamond necklace that he fastened around her neck. When he was done, she saw the matching earrings and put them on. Then she glanced at her reflection.
“I’m a stranger,” she said, looking at the sophisticated woman staring back at her.
“You are most worthy,” Malik informed her.
She met his gaze in the mirror and had the oddest feeling that he meant she was worthy for much more than attending the evening’s dinner. But how could he be sure? He barely knew her. She could be many horrible things he’d yet to discover.
Still, he held out his arm and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. At least she had the next few weeks to find out the answer to that question…and many others. The most important of which was—would she stay?
Chapter Twelve
Liana managed to keep breathing right up until they walked through the open double doors of the ballroom, but when she saw the milling people and heard a loud voice announcing “Crown Prince Malik and Princess Liana,” she felt she would pass out from a combination of anticipation and fear. To make matters worse, every person in the room turned to look at them.
For the second time that day reality crashed into her with all the subtlety of a herd of wild Arabian horses. If she stayed married to this man, one day she would be queen.
“I suggest you start breathing,” Malik murmured into her ear. “If you smile and nod, they’ll start talking with each other again, but I promise, if you pass out, you’ll be the center of attention all evening.”
She sucked in a breath. “I don’t want that.”
Malik smiled at her—one of those slow, male smiles that was as sweet, rich and tempting as freshly made Christmas fudge. “Try to relax, Liana. You’re charming and very beautiful. No one but me is going to know how close you are to throwing up from nerves.”
She nearly stumbled on the smooth floor. She didn’t know which shocked her more. That he’d figured out how close she was to losing control, or his comment that she was beautiful and charming. Was that how Malik saw her?
She didn’t get a chance to mull over his words because she found herself swept into a river of introductions. The royal family formed a reception line with her tucked neatly between Malik and his brother Jamal. A uniformed officer introduced the guests to each of them. Liana shook hands with ministers, a visiting European head of state, the King of Bahania, all four of his handsome sons, along with his spirited-looking daughter. She was verbally admired, congratulated on her marriage and generally made to feel as if her marriage to Malik was nothing out of the ordinary.
Her mind whirled, her mouth hurt from smiling and she found out that her lovely dyed-to-match shoes had not been designed for over an hour of standing. Just when she was sure she wouldn’t survive another moment, everyone was invited to move into the dining room. King Givon and the King of Bahania escorted Fatima into the great hall. Malik and Liana went next, walking alongside the Crown Prince of Bahania.
If the ballroom had been awash with glittering lights and jewelry, the dining room was a fairyland of opulence. Thick brocade tablecloths fell to the floor. There were candles everywhere, the flickering light reflecting in the crystal and fine china. Exotic blossoms in different shades of red formed elegan
t centerpieces. In the far corner, a small orchestra provided background music and several dozen uniformed servers moved silently to assist guests to their seats.
Overhead, thousands of tiny white lights twinkled like stars against a darkly tiled ceiling. As in most rooms of the palace, the floors were marble. Liana found herself led to a table set up on a dais, where she was seated between Malik and the King of Bahania. They were to dine in full view of all their guests. She swallowed hard.
Malik leaned close. “What are you thinking?”
“That I really don’t want to spill my water or drop food off my fork in front of all these people.”
He reached under the tablecloth and found her hand. After squeezing her fingers gently, he released her, seemingly oblivious to the fire that flared between them with the light touch. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, once the meal is served, most people are more concerned with their own dinner and the conversation at their table than what is happening up here.”
She shifted so that her lips nearly touched his ear. “Am I supposed to make small talk with a king?”
“You’ve had conversations with my father.”
She wanted to point out that that was different, but she wasn’t sure Malik would understand. After all, he’d grown up in this world and it was all he knew.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
His steady gaze spoke of his faith in her abilities. Although she knew that she could very easily mess up, she found herself wanting to prove him right—for his own sake as well as hers. Oddly enough she liked that he believed in her and assumed she would do well.
She glanced around the room and smiled when she caught someone staring. A flash of movement caught her attention and she turned to see a young man speaking with a girl a few years younger. The teenagers stood awkwardly, as if they would run from each other at any moment.
The King of Bahania noticed her interest. “My youngest,” he said proudly. “He’s just discovering the charms of the gentler sex.”
“He’s very handsome,” Liana said and realized she wasn’t the only one noticing the innocent flirtation. Several other guests were observing the young prince’s activity with the girl.
How horrible to grow up in such a limelight, she thought, wondering what it must have been like for Malik. Had he ever had a moment’s peace or privacy? For the first time she considered that his emotional reserve came from self-protection. How else could he have learned to shield himself while being constantly the center of so much attention?
She remembered her determination to get to know the man who was now her husband so that she could decide her future logically rather than emotionally. Yet her heart went out to the small boy who had been expected to act like a man. Who had hugged him when he was afraid? Who had held him close and whispered that he was special and loved? And if no one had been around to offer that kind of support, did he still carry that emptiness inside himself?
She looked at her handsome husband, taking in his confident air and closed expression. He held so much inside. What would happen if he felt safe enough to share his heart? How would he respond? Perhaps she should take the time to find out.
They danced in the light of a thousand candles. Malik held his wife in his arms and spun her across the floor, only to gather her close and fight the need to kiss her. He was vaguely aware of the other couples, of the music and the voice of reason in his head reminding him he had a responsibility to dance with other women and make polite conversation with the visiting royalty from Bahania. What he wanted instead was to take Liana to bed.
He desired her. Worse, he needed her. He needed to lose himself in her lushness, to allow himself to find refuge in her answering passion. Desperation added a sharp edge to his desire, making him long to ignore protocol and duty and simply disappear with her. Instead he held her against him as the song ended and told himself that one more dance with her wasn’t so great a sin.
“You’re looking fierce about something,” she said, gazing at him, her eyes bright and her smile welcoming. “Compared to you I’m a pretty horrible dancer, but I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“You’re doing very well.”
“I’m counting frantically in my head,” she confessed. “I guess you took lessons. Probably from the Russian ballet when they were in town.”
“Something like that,” he admitted, beginning to move to the soft, romantic music. “When this dance is over, we’ll have to change partners.”
The humor fled her face and her eyes flashed with panic. “Oh, great. I’ve never stepped on the toes of a visiting monarch. At least I’ll have something to write home about.”
Malik shook his head. “He’ll be charmed, as I am. You didn’t have any trouble speaking with him at dinner.”
“That’s because we were talking about Bethany. I mentioned how much she adored all the horses in your stable and we were off and running, so to speak.”
“The king is a great cat lover. Ask him about his favorites. That should be enough to get you through a dance.”
Malik took in Liana’s pretty features and the way her tiara caught the light. Tonight she looked every inch the princess, and while she was quite beautiful, he found he preferred Liana dressed as a regular woman. Or in nothing at all.
He closed his mind against that image, because he didn’t want to have to deal with the natural result. His blood already flowed so hotly that it would take no more than a light touch for him to become aroused.
“Is there some sort of briefing for these kinds of functions?” she asked, oblivious to his thoughts. “If I have to attend another one of these, I’d like to be a little more prepared.”
“Yes. The staff gathers complete files on all the guests. Had I known you were interested in attending, I would have made sure you were prepared.”
“Next time,” she said, swaying in time with him.
“Next time,” he agreed, even as he wondered if there would be a next time. After all, days moved by quickly. If she kept true to her word and stayed only a month….
But he wouldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to believe she was leaving him. He had just over three weeks to convince her to stay with him for always. Three more weeks, as his grandmother and Bethany had pointed out, to make her fall in love with him. An easy enough plan…if only he knew how.
“I had a very nice time,” Liana said awkwardly as they approached the door to her quarters.
When Malik had offered to walk her back to her room, she’d had high hopes for more than idle chit chat. After all, his smoldering gaze had followed her all evening while she’d danced with dozens of visiting dignitaries. She’d found herself stumbling over polite conversation as she imagined herself making love with Malik. But since leaving the ballroom, he hadn’t touched her once; maybe she’d simply imagined his interest.
Which made life more confusing, she thought as they paused in the hallway. Hadn’t he been the one promising to share her bed after she’d had a chance to get settled? Well, she was about as settled as she was going to get, so what was he waiting for?
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Malik said formally.
Wasn’t he going to do anything? Didn’t he want her anymore?
A more mature, braver woman would have asked. But she felt neither. Instead she sidestepped the issue. “Would you like to come in for a drink?” she asked. “Bethany is spending the night in the nursery with Dora’s two, so we wouldn’t have to worry about waking her up.”
She felt like a brazen hussy. After all, she didn’t doubt he could read the desire in her eyes. Her skin was hot and her face felt flushed. She’d been partially aroused since their first dance. Being so close to him and unable to touch him had been torture, but Malik had been politeness itself. Maybe he’d forgotten how it had been between them. Should she remind him or just let it go?
“A drink would be nice,” he said, as she opened the door and stepped inside.
Ah, a
neutral response, she thought as she made her way to the fully stocked wet bar in a corner of the living room. He wasn’t giving anything away.
“Have a seat,” she told him, then reached for a bottle of cognac and waved it in the air. “Is this all right?”
“Perfect.”
He sat on the striped sofa, not at one end, but not exactly in the middle either. Which meant she had to decide how close to sit to him when she gave him his glass. She poured a splash into each snifter and sighed. Getting to know a man had always been complex. The intricacies of new relationships were one of the reasons she generally avoided them. Being with Chuck had been easy. They’d been young and had thought they were in love. Passion had allowed them to gloss over the rough spots. While she and Malik had shared plenty of heat, it wasn’t enough to allow them to mesh their lives with ease. Perhaps if he’d been just a regular man that might have been possible, but he wasn’t.
As she walked over to the sofa, she paused to open the French door leading to the balcony. Scented night air drifted into the room.
“I think it’s getting cooler,” she said as she handed him his glass. She settled herself on the same sofa, about as far from the right corner as he was from the left.
“I agree. Winters are mild in El Bahar, but the summers can be difficult until one adjusts.”
So they were going for scintillating and witty conversation, she thought humorously. Perhaps next they could do a fashion recap on who wore what to the party.
“We have our own version of the changing seasons,” he continued, after taking a sip of his cognac. “There are different festivals in the winter. The English garden is at its best in the spring when all the plants are blooming. When the wind is right, their scents travel as far as the main roads around the palace grounds.”
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 57
