Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  "Then go."

  "Elena," he said as he backed away, raising his voice so she could hear him well. "Not every word was a lie. Not every moment was a part of the game. Have faith," he shouted.

  She shook her head. Her voice was too low for him to hear but he read her lips.

  I can't.

  Hassan jumped onto the helicopter, and almost immediately it lifted off the ground.

  "Is everything all right?" Prince Lucas asked.

  Hassan kept his eyes on the ground, on a small figure in black coveralls. Her head was tipped back to watch the helicopter fly away. "Brave and beautiful," he said, loud enough for the prince to hear. When he could no longer see Elena he faced the prince. "And stubborn!" he shouted. "Incredibly, impossibly, stubborn!"

  Chapter 17

  It wasn't a normal Saturday. The office was more than busy, the furor that kept everyone hopping close to matching the chaos that had started this whole mess, Thursday night. Elena stood over Kitty's desk, too agitated to sit. If she kept herself busy, maybe she could forget that she'd pushed Hassan away and basically told him she never wanted to see him again.

  And with good reason. He had come here not to look for a partnership, but to search for terrorists and the lost prince. Everything that had happened between them, everything, had been false.

  But she kept seeing his face as he left, she kept hearing those words. Not every word was a lie. So it was best that she keep busy.

  "His house," Kitty said. Since Thursday night she had quit referring to Yusuf Rahman in any way other than him. No name, no designation as Elena's father. Kitty wasn't angry over the fact that she'd been kidnapped, she was angry for Elena's sake. And would remain so for some time, it seemed. "Do you want to live there?"

  "No," Elena said sharply. She had so much to make amends for. Maybe this was a good place to start. "I'll sell it," she said. "And with the money I'll start the.. .the Lydia Parker Trust." She smiled softly. That might be the first clearheaded idea she'd had in days. "I'll manage it myself," she said. "And this time I'll be damned sure the money goes for schools and food." One of the first things she'd learned, from the FBI agents who were still underfoot, was that the Malounian National Trust funded weapons, not Malounian women and children in need.

  The refinery had not been shut down, but it was running on a skeleton crew. A good number of her Malounian employees had been long time members of the Brothers of Darkness. But not all. Thank goodness Umair had known nothing about Yusuf Rahman's activities. What would she have done without him these past two days?

  Umair had been home asleep when the excitement had taken place. He'd been angry to hear what had happened, angrier when the FBI grilled him. But he'd come off clean as a whistle, and was busy doing his part to rebuild and restaff the refinery.

  The decision about the trust made, Elena retreated to her office and closed the door. The door muffled the activity in the office, but didn't erase it completely. Since the rescue of Prince Lucas, the press had been hounding her for interviews. Yesterday had been an absolute media frenzy. Today things were calmer, but Kitty had the added duty of keeping persistent reporters out of Elena's office. She needed peace and quiet; she needed a few days at the ranch. And heaven help her, she didn't want to go there alone.

  She sat at her desk and opened the top drawer. Sitting here, atop the odds and ends, was Hassan's business card. He'd e-mailed her once from that address, his order to meet him at Leon's. Was that e-mail address still active? Was it legitimate? Or was it phony, like everything else about Sheik Hassan Kamal?

  No. Not everything. She had to believe that his feelings for her were real. And when she closed her eyes and let herself simply feel.. .she did. But when she let herself start asking all those questions about when and how and why.. .it got complicated. When Hassan had told her to have blind faith, he hadn't warned her that it would be so hard.

  She pulled up her e-mail box and typed in the e-mail address on the card.

  You were right. I do need you.

  No way. She quickly deleted the message and started again.

  Where are you when I need you?

  Ick. "Need" again. She didn't want to admit that she needed Hassan. That she needed anyone.

  You came here looking for a partner. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. I need...

  Need again! She considered starting over, but continued on.

  I need a real partner. In life, in business, in every way possible. I used to think needing anything so much would make me weak. But it doesn't. And I shouldn't be afraid to say that I need you here. Where the hell are you?

  She moved the cursor to the send button, where it hovered for a moment. And then she quickly hit the delete button once again. When the door to her office opened, she jumped from her chair.

  "Cade," she said as the man she'd called brother for years crossed the room in long, impatient strides.

  "Why didn't you call me?" he asked.

  "I did," she said softly. "Your secretary said you were out of town, and I didn't want to bother you..."

  "You didn't want to bother me?" he interrupted. "Elena." He shook his head. "I came as soon as I heard."

  Her lower lip trembled. She hadn't cried since Thursday night, and even then, her tears had been quick. Painless, compared to the ones that welled up in her now.

  Cade groaned. "Oh, honey, don't cry." He protested, but still he wrapped his arms around her.

  Elena let the tears flow, dampening Cade's shoulder, letting it all out. He murmured the kind of encouraging things a brother should, never once saying "I told you so." For that, she would love him forever.

  When the tears were gone she lifted her head and looked up at him. "You were right all along," she said, sniffling.

  "I wish I hadn't been," he said gruffly.

  "He killed Johnny," she whispered, even though there was no one else around to hear her horrible secret. "And my mother." She started to shake, just a little.

  "Dammit," Cade said angrily. "I should have dragged you out of here years ago."

  He had tried, hadn't he? In subtle ways, with gentle prods instead of force, and yet...

  Elena shook her head. "I wouldn't have gone."

  "I know," Cade sighed.

  "I was so determined to earn my father's trust and his love and his approval, and all this time..." she sniffled again, angry and hurt in a way she could not easily express.

  "What did you know that I didn't?" she asked. "What happened between you two?"

  Cade patted her on the back, gently and consolingly.

  "I'll tell you all about it one of these days. Soon. But not today. This is not the time or the place." He cursed low and profane. "He doesn't deserve your tears, Elena."

  She didn't know how to explain that the tears were not for her father. They were for Johnny, and the innocent woman who had given Elena birth, and for so many wasted years.

  "Whatever happened to that pretty boy you were dancing with at the Evangeline Ballroom?" Cade asked, no doubt trying to change the subject to something that would dry her tears. "Shouldn't he be here? Not that I mind you crying on my shoulder, but I kinda got the feeling he was the man for that job."

  He had definitely picked the wrong subject, if he wanted her crying to stop. Her lower lip trembled. Fresh tears filled her eyes. "Hassan has returned to Tamir." She tried to sound like she didn't care. "He came here to spy on my father. And me, for that matter."

  Cade shook his head and muttered a long string of foul language. "I'm going to fly to Tamir and kick his sorry ass."

  "No," Elena insisted, as her tears came to an end. There had been enough of those, today. "Hassan was in the right. There will be no ass-kicking."

  Cade grumbled. "I wish there was some way I could make this all better."

  Elena lifted her head, looked up, and patted Cade on the cheek. "You've made it better by coming here today." Crying and talking to him had cleared her head. She needed to get out of here, for a while. "Thank yo
u." She disengaged herself from Cade and walked across the room, her mind made up.

  "I'm going to the ranch," she said as she opened the door on a startled Kitty. "Umair has the operation of the refinery well in hand, the FBI will be running over the office and the files for at least a week." She shook her head. "I've got to get out of here. You have the number, in case you need me."

  "Good idea," Kitty said gently. "Cade going with you?"

  Elena shook her head.

  "Want some company?"

  Yeah, but he's on the opposite side of the world. "No," she said. "I need some time alone."

  Kitty nodded. "Umair and I will take care of things here."

  "I know you will."

  Kitty stopped what she was doing and gave Elena her full attention. "Is he coming back?"

  Elena shook her head and glanced over her shoulder to find that Cade listened intently for her answer.

  "No," she finally whispered.

  * * *

  Hassan stood on the East Terrace, looking out at the familiar sea. The sounds of the ocean usually soothed him, but not tonight. He had not been anything near soothed for days. It was as if his brain was constantly spinning. His heart was in no better shape.

  Prince Lucas's homecoming had been hailed as a miracle. His family and his country rejoiced; they rejoiced still. Hassan had been welcomed into the Montebellan Palace as a trusted ally, and as family. It was all he had hoped for, when he'd left for Texas, but he'd found himself unexpectantly humbled by a father's gratitude and a mother's tears.

  He had hoped to find some peace here, in his home, with his family, but there was no peace to be had. Elena had sent him away, she had sworn she did not need him or anyone else. She refused to have faith.

  Hassan didn't even hear Samira coming. One moment he was alone, the next his sister stood beside him, her own eyes on the gentle sea as the breeze ruffled her pale green shalwar kamees.

  "What's wrong?" she asked softly.

  "Nothing."

  She turned to face him and smiled, again with that gentle way she had about her. "You saved the prince of Montebello, you came home a hero, I have never seen Father look at you with such pride in his eyes." She laid her hand on his. "And yet you look as if you have just lost your best friend."

  "Maybe I have," he answered brusquely.

  "A woman," she said knowingly. "Someone from Texas?"

  He took a deep breath and sighed. He could try to stonewall his little sister, but it wouldn't do any good. Gentle as she was, when it came to family she never gave up. "Yes."

  "You love her."

  Hassan lifted his eyebrows, pinned his eyes to Samira's, and surrendered. "Yes."

  "Then why is she in Texas while you are in Tamir?"

  Hassan threw up his hands. "It is not so simple!"

  "Why not?"

  He leaned on the railing and returned his gaze to the sea. The moon on the water sparkled like a precious gem, the sound of the waves should have been soothing, but were not. "She said she would not marry me if I were the last man on earth," he said. "Twice."

  "Oh," Samira said softly, turning her gaze to follow his. "So you did ask her?"

  "Of course I did."

  Samira took a deep breath of the night air. "I can't believe that any woman you pursued would refuse you, Hassan. You did ask her properly, didn't you? What was your proposal like?"

  "What difference does it..." he stopped mid sentence. True, neither of his suggestions for marriage could be called romantic. But circumstances had not allowed for anything so conventional as a bent-knee proposal. "I asked, she said no. The details are not important."

  "I know you too well, Hassan," Samira said gently. "Instead of asking, you probably demanded that she marry you. In a very charming way, of course," she amended. "But still, I would imagine a woman might expect to be asked, in this day and age."

  Hassan didn't have a response to that observation. Not one he would repeat to his little sister, in any case.

  "But you did tell her that you love her, didn't you?" Samira pressed.

  Hassan took a deep, calming breath. "She knows how I feel."

  "How does she know?"

  He had shown her, in every way he knew how. He had told her, once.

  In a language she could not understand.

  "You would like her," he said. "Elena is brave and beautiful and very, very stubborn."

  "And when are you going back to Texas to collect her?" Samira asked with a smile.

  "Elena said she needs time," he said. "After what she's been through, she can have all the time she needs."

  Samira raised her eyebrows. "Knowing how patient you are, I have to wonder how long you think that might be."

  Hassan grumbled at the sea. He was not going to stand here and sulk over what might have been if he'd approached the matter differently. He'd give Elena the time she'd requested, but his patience was not endless. "I would think a week to be plenty of time."

  Samira laughed lightly and squeezed his hand.

  * * *

  Kitty sat at the boss's desk and started to clear away unnecessary paperwork. It built up so quickly. Among the mess she saw Sheik Hassan Kamal's business card. She studied it for a moment before dropping it in the garbage can.

  She'd had such hopes for that man! And all along he'd been spying on Rahman Oil and Elena. It just wasn't right. Still, she didn't get the feeling that espionage was Kamal's strong suit. He couldn't have pretended his fascination with Elena. Kitty prided herself on being a great judge of character, where other women's men were concerned. She would have bet her life that the sheik was crazy about Elena.

  But that was water under the bridge. The sheik was home where he belonged and Elena swore that was the way it should be.

  She didn't want Elena to come back to any unfinished business, so she cleared off the desk and switched on the computer. She printed out two e-mails that needed to be filed away, and clicked on the icon for the discarded files to make sure nothing that might be needed had been accidentally deleted. She shook her head at the number of files there. Elena apparently took the delete key too literally. Every now and then Kitty had to follow up and erase the old files permanently.

  The three messages addressed to Sheik Hassan Kamal caught her eye. She shouldn't read them. It was really none of her business. But since nothing had been sent to the sheik's address, she found herself uncontrollably curious.

  Reading the short messages broke her heart. Left to her own devices, Elena would never send these notes, or anything like them. Pride wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but too much could stop your life in its tracks.

  It only took a few seconds to copy and paste the deleted messages into a new box, add a short note of her own, and hit the send key.

  And honestly, after this she was going to swear off interfering in other people's lives. It was positively draining.

  * * *

  Hassan dragged out his laptop for the second time that day. He didn't normally bother to check it more than twice a week, but he kept hearing Elena's halfhearted promise. I'll e-mail you.

  He didn't expect to find anything this morning, but a message came up on the screen with Elena's name attached. When he opened it, the note at the top was not from Elena; it was from Kitty.

  I found these in the trash. I know I should mind my own business, but I thought this was something you should see.

  Kitty

  A short distance down, he found three separate notes. They all touched him, they all made him anxious to get the next plane for Texas. Especially that last question. Where the hell are you?

  He dressed, not in a suit or jeans or coveralls, but in a traditional costume. Dark blue and gold, for this occasion, including the turban and a sapphire ring. He made the journey down the hallway, his footsteps almost silent, soft Tamiri boots quiet on the tile floor.

  The guard at his father's study door saw him coming and opened the massive door, bending at the waist as he admitted Hassan to Sheik A
hmed's office. The old man, who rarely saw his second son before noon, was obviously surprised. He put down the pen he had been signing papers with.

  "What's the occasion?" he asked, smiling in approval at Hassan's costume.

  "I'm getting married," Hassan said confidently.

  His father beamed, grinning widely. "Wonderful! Who's the lucky girl?"

  "Elena Rahman."

  Ahmed Kamal's smile faded quickly. "If this is your idea of a joke, Hassan..."

  "It is most definitely not ajoke."

  The old sheik stood. "Her mother was American."

  "Yes."

  Wrinkled hands formed formidable fists. "Her father was a terrorist! El-Malak!"

  "Yes."

  "There are other, more suitable women than this Rahman woman." Sheik Ahmed awaited an argument. He always got one from his second son, and it was clear that he expected this time to be no different.

  "I don't want another, more suitable woman. I love Elena."

  Sheik Ahmed thrust his chin forward stubbornly. "You won't have my approval for this marriage, Hassan. As if that matters to you." He threw out an exasperated hand. "This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? To leave this palace, to go to America and forget your family, to turn your back on your place in this world. It has always been your dearest wish to do whatever will cause me the greatest amount of dismay and grief."

  Hassan didn't argue. No words could penetrate his father's anger. Part of what the old man said was true. As the second son, Hassan had always rebelled against his place in this family. No words could explain what he felt, how deeply he needed this. After a moment of silence, Hassan dropped to his knees.

  "Do you want me to beg?" he asked. "To show you the reverence I have never shown you before? Fine. I beg you for your consent. I have never asked you for anything. Never. I will never ask you for anything else."

  The old sheik's expression softened as he rounded the desk. "Stand up," he ordered, fluttering his fingers. "I won't have my son on his knees."

  Hassan didn't move. "Then give your consent."