“The information was hardly a revelation,” her half brother told her. “This would be a change from almost any life. Of course you are not sure. Our ways are different, our country is strange to you.”
Zara stared up into his dark eyes. “Does everyone hate me? I mean I simply showed up out of nowhere, and Hassan is convinced that I’m, well—” she shrugged “—you know.”
“The child of his beloved Fiona. Yes, I know.” Sadik shook his head. “Do not worry yourself on that account. No one resents your arrival.”
He was being polite, she thought. Or maybe he didn’t know about Sabrina’s unhappy relationship with her father. Men weren’t always very observant about that sort of thing.
The dance ended and Sadik excused himself to go find Cleo. Zara watched him hurry away. At least one of them was having fun. She turned and spied Jean-Paul heading in her direction. That meant Byron couldn’t be too far away. She ducked around several couples and headed for the stairs on the opposite side of the room. From there she might be able to spot Rafe. For all his claims to want to keep his eye on her, he’d been surprisingly absent since dinner.
She’d just reached the stairs when she felt a hand on her arm. Fearing the worst, she glanced over her shoulder, then sagged in relief when she saw Rafe.
“You abandoned me,” she accused.
“I was letting you have a good time.”
She exhaled loudly. “A lot you know about women if you think what I’ve been doing is fun.”
“Don’t you like dancing?”
“Not with two men acting more like terriers than humans. Plus, aren’t they a little old to be sulking?”
Rafe grinned. She liked the lines that formed beside the corners of his eyes and the way his tanned skin contrasted with his short blond hair.
“I saw you dancing with Sadik. That should have been all right.”
“It was. He mostly tried to reassure me about my acceptance in the family. I’m not sure I believe him.”
“You should.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t look now, but there are terriers approaching right behind you.”
Zara winced. “Rafe, at the risk of sounding too forward, are you allowed to dance with me?”
“Sure.”
“Then maybe you should ask.”
He did that one better. He swept her up in his arms and moved her into the swirling crowd. Thanks to her mother’s training, Zara knew all the basic dance steps. She moved easily to the steady beat of the waltz, stumbling only when she realized how well Rafe was doing.
“I didn’t think they taught dancing at paramilitary school,” she said breathlessly through a turn.
“I’m a man of many talents.”
For several minutes they danced in comfortable silence. She remembered that afternoon, how she’d felt in his arms. It had been different from being in them now, but despite the casual embrace and the people all around them, she felt safe and very feminine. She wanted him.
“Zara.”
Her name came out in a growl. The low tone sent shivers dancing along her spine. She raised her chin slightly.
“You feel it, too,” she murmured.
“So what? What we feel is irrelevant.”
The man was entirely too difficult. “I’m not sure I believe you—about the head cutting, I mean. The king wouldn’t really do that to you.”
“You have no way of knowing what he would or wouldn’t do. I’ve been around him much longer than you and I’m familiar with the ways of this world.”
Maybe it was the tension of the evening that made her so light-headed and bold. Maybe it was the lingering desire and the knowledge that no one had ever made her feel the way Rafe did.
“What about kissing?” she asked in a whisper. “That can’t be against the law.”
For a second she thought she might have gone too far. Maybe she was making a fool of herself. Then she saw Rafe’s eyes darken and a muscle twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“No kissing. It leads to trouble.”
“Coward.”
His gaze narrowed. “Insulting me isn’t going to help.”
“I was trying to dare you into acting.”
“It didn’t work.”
“What will?”
The music ended. Rafe stepped away and bowed. “Zara, you tempt me in ways I can’t begin to explain. But know this. I will never give in.”
She sighed. “That’s the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.”
“I meant every word.”
Zara escaped into the ladies’ room rather than face Byron and Jean-Paul. While she was disappointed that Rafe hadn’t jumped on her suggestion that they kiss again, she couldn’t stop smiling as she remembered his claim to find her tempting. She didn’t think she’d ever tempted a man before—certainly not one like him.
He had seen and done things she couldn’t even imagine. No doubt there had been many women along the way. She could imagine him with beautiful, exotic types—of which she was neither. Still, it was nice to know that she could get his attention even for only a minute.
Zara paused in the foyer of the ladies’ room and looked around. She’d never been in a bathroom that had a foyer before. The spacious area was decorated in red and gold with an elegant chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. Mirrors covered two walls, stretching down to long vanities. A half dozen tufted stools stood ready, offering a seat to those who wished to repair their appearance. The lighting was intensely flattering and there were trays of hair spray, lotion, tissues and small towels to please even the most demanding guest.
“Not bad work if you can get it,” Zara murmured to herself. She wandered closer to the mirror and studied her appearance. Her bronze-colored dress shimmered in the light. Her hairstyle by Eric had stayed in place. Her lipstick was a little smudged, and there was a dark blotch of mascara just under the corner of her right eye. After sinking onto one of the stools, she wiped away the smudge and dark spot, then reapplied her lipstick. Getting off her feet felt heavenly. She wasn’t used to high heels, not to mention strappy sandal styles. The thin bits of leather looked great but they cut into her feet.
The main door opened. Zara looked up, then stiffened when she saw Sabrina enter. Her half sister wore a dress of pale gold. The fabric emphasized Sabrina’s curvy shape. No padding required, Zara thought glumly.
Cool dark eyes regarded her thoughtfully. Sabrina smiled—it looked a little forced to Zara—then sat gracefully two stools away.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Sabrina asked as she opened her small handbag and drew out a lip pencil.
“Everything is lovely.” Zara pressed her hands together in her lap. “I spoke with Prince Sadik earlier and he was very kind.”
Sabrina finished lining her lips and smiled again. “I doubt he would appreciate the description. My brothers are more interested in being ruthless and arrogant.”
“Oh.”
Zara didn’t know what to say to that. She felt tense and out of place. Rafe’s story about why Sabrina didn’t like her swirled through her head. She hated knowing her only sister by blood resented her being here.
Zara drew in a deep breath and turned to face Sabrina. “I’m sorry about all of this. For invading your life the way I have. I didn’t think that coming here would make trouble, which was naive of me. I should have seen the potential problems.”
Sabrina carefully applied lipstick, then blotted her mouth with a tissue. Finally she put her cosmetics back in her purse and closed it. Only then did she look at Zara.
“Your apology makes me think that you’ve been told something of my past.”
Zara nodded. “Rafe mentioned a few things.”
Sabrina sighed. “I know this isn’t your fault. Intellectually I understand that my father’s delight in having you show up doesn’t take away anything from my relationship with him. But my heart tells me something else. I spent my childhood being in the way both with my mother in California and here in Bahan
ia with Father. It’s difficult to watch him dance with joy when he sees you.”
Zara hung her head. She felt like slime. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Don’t be. Like I said, it’s not your fault. For that matter it’s not my fault, either. My father has come to see that he treated me badly and he’s trying to make amends. I have reconciled to the fact that I’ll never be his favorite. While I was able to convince myself it was because I was female, I could handle it quite well.”
Zara winced. Hassan hadn’t cared that she was a girl. He’d been thrilled just to see Fiona’s child, regardless of gender. For Sabrina that would be rubbing salt in the wound.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
Sabrina smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. This isn’t your responsibility. You came here because you wanted to find something.”
“Roots,” Zara admitted. “All my life I’ve wanted to know about my father. My mom wouldn’t ever talk about him.” She glanced around the foyer and smiled slightly. “But in all my dreams, I never once imagined something like this.”
Sabrina laughed. “Bahania would be tough to make up. It’s so incredible all on its own.”
“I agree.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. Zara cleared her throat. “Thanks for sending Marie with the dresses. She was great.”
“I thought that would be better than my castoffs. Plus, Cleo wouldn’t have fit in any of my things.”
Zara looked at her half sister. “Not to mention you not wanting us to wear your clothes.”
Sabrina shrugged. “I’m big enough to admit that would have bugged me. But speaking of clothes, Marie left me a message saying that you and Cleo only picked out dresses for tonight. Why not a whole wardrobe?”
“That wouldn’t be right. We’re not here for what we can get. I don’t want anyone to think I’m in it for the money. Neither of us had a dress appropriate for tonight, and frankly we couldn’t afford anything from Marie’s boutique. So we had to accept these, but that’s enough.”
Sabrina regarded her thoughtfully. “I think I believe you.”
“I can’t make you believe me or not. I’m simply telling the truth.”
“Regardless of what you want in terms of gifts, you’re going to need an appropriate wardrobe. Unless you were married to the president in your previous life, I doubt you’ll have much that works. I’ll send Marie back in the morning. Take her advice. Enjoy the clothes. Think of them as a welcoming gift.”
Zara wasn’t sure what to make of Sabrina’s words. She hated that she and her half sister were at odds. If only there was a way to make things right. Unfortunately, the past was over, and there wasn’t a way to change it.
Sabrina rose to her feet. “I’m not a horrible person,” she announced. “You’re looking at me as if I’m about to slap you.”
Zara stood, as well. “That’s not what I’m thinking at all. You’ve been very patient.”
Sabrina shook her head. “No. I’ve been pouting. Ask my husband.” She took a step closer. “Let’s start over and try to be friends. I have to admit that after having four brothers for so many years, not to mention being the youngest, I wouldn’t mind having another woman in the family. We’re sisters. We need to stick together.”
Tension eased in Zara’s chest. She smiled. “I’d like that.”
Sabrina held out her arms and they embraced. Behind them the bathroom door opened. Zara stepped back and turned to see who had entered, but no one was there. She returned her attention to Sabrina.
“Would you mind if we spoke in the next day or so? I have so many questions and I don’t know who to ask.”
“Not a problem,” Sabrina promised. “We’ll get to know each other.”
Hassan claimed Zara for the last dance of the evening. Zara had tried to escape back to her room twice before, but Rafe had intercepted and sent her back into the crowd, telling her that no member of the royal family was allowed to duck out before the king.
Now she found herself glad she had stayed. Hassan was a very charming man.
“You must see all of Bahania,” he was saying as they moved around the dance floor. “Not all in one day, of course.”
She laughed. “I did some research before I left. From what I could tell, your country has much diversity.”
“Ah, but it is your country, too, now,” he reminded her. “I will instruct Rafe to take you exploring.”
She felt a whisper of anticipation. “I’d like that.” Not only seeing the splendors of Bahania, but spending time with her temporary bodyguard.
“I will introduce you to my favorite cats,” he continued. “I’m sure you’ve noticed all the cats around the palace.”
“Of course. They’re everywhere.”
“They are my pride and joy.” He squeezed her hand, his dark eyes bright with laughter. “Until you arrived.”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about displacing a cat or two in his affections. No wonder Sabrina had been miffed at her arrival. Sabrina had probably come a distant third to Hassan’s sons and his cats.
“We have much to make up for,” Hassan said.
“I agree. Although I have to admit that all the times I stayed awake as a little girl and fantasized about finding my real father, I never pictured anything like this.”
His humor faded. “How I wish I’d known about you. I would have come and swept you away.” He paused. “Or perhaps I would have simply watched from afar. I do not think I could have hurt Fiona by taking away her child. But then I doubt I could have kept from wanting her to be mine forever, so I might have had you both eventually. We’ll never know.”
Zara didn’t know what to say to that. She was tired and fading fast. Late-night parties weren’t a part of her usual world.
“Speaking of true love,” her father said. “I saw you spent much of your time with two particular gentlemen. Both Byron and Jean-Paul would make fine matches.”
Zara suddenly felt as if she’d fallen into the pages of a Jane Austen novel. “I’m not really looking for a ‘fine match,”’ she told him honestly. “Right now I have plenty of changes to keep me occupied.”
“For a time, but eventually you will want more. A husband, perhaps? A family?”
They were all Zara had ever wanted. Roots, she thought longingly. “I’ve thought of those things,” she admitted.
“Then you should spend time with Byron and Jean-Paul. Get to know them. I know they will be charmed by you. Something may light a spark.”
She’d already been set on fire and it hadn’t been by either man in question. Unfortunately, the king wasn’t offering Rafe as a potential bridegroom. Too bad. That would have been a whole lot easier to take. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to dim the light of hope in his eyes.
“I promise to give them a chance, if they decide they would like to see me again.”
“Of course they will want to see you,” Hassan promised in a tone that warned her he would make sure it happened.
Zara had a moment of longing for her small, normal life back in Washington. Somehow she knew that things were never going to be the same again.
Rafe carried Zara’s shoes as he escorted her back to her room. She walked gingerly, wincing as she stepped on a bit of uneven tile.
“Remind me to pick low-heeled shoes next time,” she said, pausing to bend over and rub the ball of her left foot. “I think I broke something tonight.”
“You’ll feel better in the morning,” he promised.
“Only if someone carries me around so I don’t have to walk.”
He had an instant picture of himself carrying her. The image wasn’t unpleasant—in fact, he found himself warming to the idea. The only problem was carrying Zara anywhere would ultimately end up with him carrying her to bed. And as much as she might enjoy teasing him about kissing, she had no idea of the consequences of those actions. Which meant he was going to keep his mind firmly on business.
“Did you have
a good time?” he asked as they reached a T intersection in the hallway. Zara turned right, forcing him to stop her and point to the left.
“It was interesting,” she said and stifled a yawn. “I have to tell you that I don’t think I’m the state dinner type. I tried not to say anything too awful or offend anyone, but saying or doing the wrong thing seems incredibly easy. With my ability to put my foot in my mouth, I should be kept away from sensitive situations.”
“You did fine.”
She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think the terrier twins were paying attention to what I was saying?”
Fatigue left dark shadows under her eyes. Her skin was pale, her mouth free of lipstick. He thought she looked lovely.
“I’m sure that Byron and Jean-Paul were charmed by you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, right. The worst part is the king wants me to see them again. I think he’s hoping for a match.”
Rafe felt an instant tightness in his chest. He told himself that Zara seeing any man wasn’t his business. His responsibilities lay in keeping her safe, not escorting her around town. She was the kind of woman who needed to be married; he was the kind of man who did best on his own. End of story.
“What are you hoping for?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Answers, mostly. Is Hassan my father? Do I belong here? Actually I have the answer to the last question. I don’t belong here and I’m not sure I ever will.” She paused and glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes. Although if this is about something that involves your safety, I have to warn you that I may tell the king.”
She pressed her lips together. “Don’t you ever go off duty?”
“No.”
She sighed. “This doesn’t affect my safety. I just wish—” She leaned against the tiled wall and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t come here. That I didn’t know the truth. Although the blood test might show that I’m not Hassan’s daughter.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I know.”
Rafe studied her pale face. His fingers itched to trace her pretty features. He wanted to pull her close and kiss her, running his hands up and down her body. He wanted to feel her delicate curves, touch her bare skin and taste every inch of her.
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 93
