Romancing the Crown Series

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

  It wasn't until she became aware of a strange noise that the last vestige of sleep fell away and complete consciousness swept in.

  Farid.

  Beneath her cheek she could feel his warm, firm flesh, and in an instant she realized she was lying sprawled across his bare chest and the sound that had awakened her was the faint snoring that emitted from him.

  She had never awakened in a man's arms before and the pleasure she now felt caused her pulse to accelerate. His arm was around her, his hand resting in the small of her back with a sweet intimacy that sleep had bred.

  She was afraid to move, and equally afraid not to. It would be embarrassing if he were to awaken and discover her shamelessly draped over him.

  But she didn't want to leave the evocative warmth of his arms. She wanted to linger here, with his bare skin against hers, his male scent surrounding her. He smelled so wonderfully alien to her – a clean scent mixed with spicy cologne and a maleness that was intoxicating.

  Cautiously, she raised her head, reassured when there was no break in his soft snoring. As he continued to sleep, she took the opportunity to study him.

  His long, dark lashes cast spiderlike shadows beneath his eyes that gave him an air of vulnerability that was instantly appealing. His mouth was slightly open and his strong features appeared softer in sleep.

  Last night had been the first time she'd ever heard him laugh, and she'd been stunned by how the wonderful sound had seemed to wrap itself around her heart.

  In the past two days, since the moment he'd proposed to her, she'd seen a side of Farid she'd never seen before. There had been moments when he'd seemed softer … almost gentle. So unlike the arrogant, distant, unemotional man she'd believed him to be.

  She found her gaze focused on his mouth and she remembered the kiss they'd shared the day before at the end of their marriage ceremony.

  The kiss had been brief … far too brief. But when his lips had touched hers, they had been sweetly warm and she now wondered what it would be like to receive a real, lingering kiss from him.

  She closed her eyes and imagined it … his mouth taking possession of hers as his hands tangled in her hair. His tongue seeking hers as he sought to deepen the kiss. Ah, the vision took her breath away.

  She opened her eyes and squeaked in surprise as she realized he was awake and gazing at her. She quickly rolled over onto her own side of the bed, aware of a small grin of amusement curving his lips.

  "Good morning," he said.

  "Good morning," she murmured as she closed her eyes and fought off a sudden wave of nausea. Apparently she'd moved too quickly. Morning sickness threatened to overtake her.

  "Are you all right?" His voice held a residual bit of sleepiness in it, making it deeper than usual and oddly provocative.

  She didn't open her eyes, in truth was afraid to. She wasn't sure she was ready to see him all tousle-haired and bare-chested. "I'm okay. I'm just feeling a little bit nauseous."

  "Then just lay here and relax," he said. "It's still early."

  She felt him get out of bed. She heard the rustling noise of clothing and knew he was getting dressed. She kept her eyes closed and some of her tension left her as she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, then closing.

  She wasn't sure which was worse, the awkwardness of waking up in a bed with a man she hardly knew, or the queasiness that threatened to erupt into something worse at any moment.

  At least the morning sickness had alleviated some of the embarrassment of waking up to find herself draped over Farid like a blanket.

  She heard the bathroom door open once again and gasped in surprise as a cool compress was laid across her forehead. Her eyes sprang open. Farid stood by the side of the bed, gazing down at her with undisguised concern.

  "Thank you," she said as she reached up to touch the cool, folded cloth.

  He nodded. "I don't know if it will help or not, but it's the only thing I knew to do."

  "It's helping already," she replied. She forced a smile. "Don't look so worried. Morning sickness is perfectly normal."

  "Does it last long?"

  "I hope not," she said. "Actually, I've heard it usually passes within the third or fourth month of pregnancy."

  His look of concern eased somewhat. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything I can get for you?"

  "No, thanks. I'll just lie here a few more minutes and it will pass."

  He shifted from one foot to the other as if reluctant to go, yet eager to leave. "Then I'll just let you rest."

  She watched as he left the room and pulled the bedroom door closed behind him. Her thoughts were filled with him.

  Farid Nasir.

  Her husband.

  She looked at the slender band of gold that encircled her finger. The ring was simple and relatively inexpensive, but the thought that it had been his mother's and he'd given it to Samira, touched her. As did the fact that he had made her a cold compress for her head.

  She reached up and turned the cloth over. Farid Nasir was a man of many facets. She'd believed him to be cold and arrogant, and there was a touch of those qualities in him, but there were so many others to explore as well.

  She knew now that he had a wonderful sense of humor. She'd not only seen it sparkling from his eyes, but had heard it in the robust laughter he'd released the night before.

  He also had a surprisingly gentle center, displayed as he'd held the lost little girl in the piazza, exhibited when he'd spoken of the baby she carried and apparent in the gift of a cold compress for her head.

  A tiny alarm went off in the back of her mind. Take care, Samira, she told herself. The last thing she would want to do was to make herself believe that she was falling in love with Farid.

  He was a man who had made it clear in a dozen different ways that he didn't believe in the romantic kind of love she'd always dreamed about, a man who had made it more than clear that he had married her for duty and duty only.

  She smiled at herself and her own foolishness. She wasn't falling in love with Farid, she was just feeling overly grateful for the compress on her head and that he'd agreed to love the child she carried despite the fact that the baby wasn't his.

  A mental picture of Desmond filled her mind and brought with it a surprising lack of emotion. There was no love, nor was there any hatred. There was simply a vague distaste when she thought of the man she had believed she'd loved.

  She sighed softly as Desmond's image was usurped by one of Farid. Desmond might be handsome, but so was Farid. And while Desmond might be wonderfully charming, he lacked the qualities that Farid possessed … qualities like integrity and honor.

  And it had been honor and duty that had driven Farid to marry her, she had to remember that. No matter how pleasant she found his laughter, no matter how wonderful it was to awaken in his arms, he'd married her for one reason and one reason alone – duty. And she absolutely, positively had to remember that.

  She'd made a stupid mistake in sleeping with Desmond Caruso, but she had a feeling it would be a far bigger mistake to fall in love with Farid.

  * * *

  She awakened some time later, surprised that she had apparently drifted back to sleep. The sun pouring through the windows let her know it was midmorning, and her first thought was of her husband.

  Her husband. Farid. What had he been doing in the hours that she'd slept? What did he do in his hours of leisure, when he wasn't in charge of her safety? Did he have hobbies? Did he like to read or watch television? Did he enjoy crossword puzzles or other challenging mind games?

  After she'd showered and dressed for the day, she left the bedroom to find him sitting on the sofa and thumbing through a newspaper.

  "Good morning again," he said and closed the newspaper.

  "'Morning." She gestured toward the paper. "Anything interesting?"

  "Same old stuff. How are you feeling?"

  "Much better, thank you."

  He stood and held out a small envelope. "This was
delivered for you while you were sleeping."

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "I don't know. I didn't open it. It's addressed to you."

  She took it from him and opened it. "It's from Queen Gwendolyn … an invitation to dinner this evening." She laid the envelope on the coffee table. "I'll send my regrets."

  "Why?" Farid looked at her curiously.

  "I don't know…" She stared down at the gold band around her finger. "I'm not ready to return to Tamir yet, but if I introduce you to Queen Gwendolyn and King Marcus as my husband, then I'm certain word will get back to my father immediately."

  "Then you go as Princess Samira and I go as your bodyguard," he said. "We pretend nothing has changed and you have dinner with the king and queen."

  She looked back up at him. "But that doesn't seem right."

  He smiled, causing the tiny lines at the outer edges of his eyes to deepen. "I appreciate the sentiment, but it would not do to turn down the queen and king's invitation. For the first time in years, Montebello and Tamir are enjoying good relations. You would not want to offend the king and queen. Besides, we'll have plenty of time to attend social gatherings and such as husband and wife when you decide it's time to return to Tamir."

  She looked at him gratefully. He was making things so easy on her. Another man might balk at being relegated to the role of bodyguard when he was married to a princess.

  It wasn't until later that evening, when they were walking from the guest house to the palace that she remembered to ask him about his hobbies.

  "What do you do in your spare time, Farid?" The evening air was laden with scents, but none as familiar and comforting as the scent that emanated from Farid.

  Amazing that in less than two days she'd learned the masculine smell of him, the spicy cologne coupled with clean maleness.

  "Being a bodyguard to a princess leaves very little spare time," he replied. "But when I do have time there are several things I enjoy."

  "Like what?" she asked. He looked so handsome in his uniform, and she felt a slight quiver in her stomach as she thought that once again tonight they would be sleeping beneath the same sheet, in the same bed.

  "All of the men who serve as bodyguards work out a lot and we're a competitive bunch. We have frequent physical challenges. I also enjoy target practice, and I like to run long-distance."

  Samira was instantly granted a mental image of Farid clad only in a pair of jogging shorts, his body covered with a sheen of perspiration as he ran. The image was so evocative, so powerful, she stumbled and would have fallen had Farid not caught her by the arm to steady her.

  His touch sent her pulse rate skittering to a new frantic pace and she quickly stepped away from his grip. "Thanks, I'm fine," she murmured.

  "You're trembling," he said, his dark eyes watching her closely. "Are you nervous about the dinner?"

  Samira grasped at his suggestion. "Yes, a little." In truth, she hadn't been nervous until this very moment. "I was just thinking … what if Desmond is at dinner? I'm not sure if I'm ready to see him so soon."

  Farid stopped walking and stood before her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes unreadable in the shadows of the falling night. "He only has the power over you that you give him."

  "He has no power over me," she exclaimed. She averted her gaze from Farid. "It would just be awkward, that's all."

  What was really awkward was speaking to the man she had married about the man she'd made love with three months before.

  They fell silent as they reached the palace and Farid fell back several steps to his place as bodyguard. The moment they entered the palace, Farid disappeared as Samira was led into a large solarium at the back of the palace.

  The solarium was beautiful, decorated in creams and golds and with a breathtaking view of the lush gardens and beyond that the blue of the ocean. As she entered, Prince Lucas rose from one of the elegant sofas and greeted her.

  "Princess Samira." The handsome, dark-haired prince took her hand in his. "It's nice to see you again. It has been far too long."

  "Prince Lucas, it's wonderful to see you back here in Montebello where you belong," she replied.

  "It's good to be back home." Although he said the words, there seemed to be shadowed sadness in his eyes that belied them.

  "You look well," she said.

  "Thank you, and you're as pretty as ever. Your family is well?"

  "They are very well," she replied.

  At that moment Queen Gwendolyn and King Marcus joined them. King Marcus was a handsome man with thick white hair and dark eyes. Queen Gwendoyln's beauty was legendary. A blue-eyed blonde with delicate, aristocratic features, she was known not only for her beauty, but for her warmth as well.

  That warmth was apparent as she greeted Samira. "We'll wait just a moment for Lorenzo and Eliza to join us," she said. The four of them chatted for a few minutes before Lorenzo and Eliza appeared and they all went into the adjoining dining room.

  Like the solarium, the dining room was decorated in creams and golds with deep-green accents.

  Samira breathed a sigh of relief as she realized it was only going to be the six of them for dinner. At least she wouldn't have to sit across from Desmond Caruso and make nice to the man.

  Dinner was sumptuous, but throughout the meal, Samira couldn't help but notice the profound changes that seemed to have taken place in Prince Lucas.

  Over the years, before his disappearance and his bout with amnesia, she had attended functions with him and had always found him to be a natural charmer with a wonderful sense of humor and a touch of irreverence. His blue eyes had always sparkled, and he'd had a reputation for being something of a ladies' man.

  There was no hint of that man now. He seemed more somber and again Samira sensed a deep sadness inside him. Or perhaps it was maturity, she told herself. After all, in less than six months time he would be taking on more responsibility and preparing to eventually take the crown as King.

  Lorenzo, King Sebastiani's godson and nephew, on the other hand, looked wonderfully happy and it was obvious he and his wife, Eliza, were madly in love.

  Throughout the meal, Samira thought again and again of Farid, wondering if he was eating a meal as good as hers, if he was being entertained by friendly people. She'd not worn the gold wedding ring and she was surprised that her finger felt naked without it.

  Almost as soon as the meal was over, King Marcus, Lorenzo and Prince Lucas excused themselves, leaving Queen Gwendolyn, Eliza and Samira to enjoy their after-dinner coffee alone.

  The two women spoke of their families and of the charity work they were each involved in.

  "I have not spoken with Rashid and Julia for the past week," Queen Gwendolyn said. "I understand they are enjoying some time on Erimos."

  Samira nodded. Erimos was an isolated island where her brother, Rashid, enjoyed spending time with his wife, Julia Sebastiani Kamal, and their son, Omar. "Little Omar is growing like a weed."

  "He is the light of our lives." Queen Gwendolyn smiled at Eliza. "King Marcus and I are hoping to be blessed with many grandchildren."

  "It must be wonderful to have Prince Lucas back," Samira said, changing the subject.

  "Yes, it is wonderful to have him home. I can't tell you of my pain when I thought be might be gone forever." Her blue eyes darkened slightly. "There's nothing worse than losing a child."

  "He seems different somehow … more pensive."

  Samira hoped she hadn't overstepped herself in broaching the subject.

  A small frown tugged at Queen Gwendoyln's lovely features and she stared down into her coffee cup for a long moment before she looked at Samira once again.

  "My son is suffering an enormous heartbreak," she said softly, her pain for her son evident in her voice, in the shadows of her eyes.

  "A heartbreak?" Samira had heard no gossip linking the handsome prince to any woman.

  Queen Gwendolyn sighed. "It seems he became quite close to a woman in Colorado wh
ile he was there, and only recently he discovered she has died."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry," Samira exclaimed.

  The queen smiled, a sad little smile. "If he fell and hurt his knee, I could put a bandage on it and make it all better. If he was fevered, I could cool his forehead with a damp cloth. But, I fear when it comes to matters of the heart and the pain of loss, a mother is helpless to make that pain go away."

  Samira wasn't sure how to reply. Her heart ached for the handsome prince whose eyes radiated such sadness. As she thought of the baby she carried, she felt an affinity with the queen, a mother who would do anything in her power to ease the pain of a son. They visited for another hour, then Samira and the queen parted and Farid rejoined Samira for the walk back to their guest house.

  "You had a nice time?" Farid asked as they walked.

  "I did. The king and queen are warm, gracious people. Prince Lucas joined us. Did you know he worked undercover for the FBI and infiltrated the Brothers of Darkness?"

  The Brothers of Darkness was a terrorist group that had been wreaking havoc both in Montebello and Tamir.

  "I'd heard rumors."

  "He spoke a little bit about it at dinner," she explained.

  "The Brothers of Darkness brought a lot of misery to the people in both countries by their indiscriminate bombings of public places. They were suspected of bombing the airport here a month ago, but I believe the villain turned out to be an airport security person."

  She nodded as they entered the garden that would eventually lead them to their guest house. They had spoken of it at dinner.

  They had gone only a few steps when Samira spied a male figure coming down the narrow sidewalk toward them.

  He was Desmond's height and approximate weight. Panic swept through her. She wasn't ready to see him yet. She didn't want any kind of a confrontation with him.

  Frantically, she looked for a place to hide and seeing nowhere to go, she impulsively wrapped her arms around Farid's neck and pulled his head down so she could meet his lips with hers. Her ploy was to use him to shield her from whomever it was who approached.

  Farid gave a gasp of surprise, but his mouth complied with her wishes as his arms encircled her and pulled her close. So close … too wonderfully close. Her body was intimately pressed against his as her fingers encountered the soft, thick hair at the nape of his neck.