by Marie Tuhart
“Well, Malik, with no last name,” she said, and tugged her hand away, “what brings you to the palace?”
He was taken aback, then realized she didn’t know who he was and almost burst out laughing. It was rare he could be this anonymous.
“I was invited to dinner.” While she’d eventually find out who he was, right now, he wanted to keep it a secret. Just be a normal guy and get to know her without his royal title being involved.
“Is it that late?” She lifted her wrist, and then shook her head. “I left my watch in my room.”
“It’s only seven. Dinner won’t be for another hour.” Now that he wasn’t rushed for time, he allowed himself to look her over. Her long legs were tucked underneath her. The small vee of her shirt gave him a glimpse of her curves.
She regarded him with a bit of suspicion. “Do you have dinner here a lot?”
“Yes.” He liked the way she reacted to him. Like a normal man and not the crown prince. It was a nice change. No scraping and bowing or kissing up for position for this woman, and he was enjoying every second of it. “Come.” He rose to his knees and grasped her elbow. “Let me take you on a tour of the garden.” He brought her to her feet as he rose.
“But—”
“Nothing.” He pressed a finger against her lips and had to bite back a groan when her tongue touched the pad of that finger. “We have plenty of time before dinner, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy the tour.”
Catherine stared at the man. Confusion about him, as well as riotous feelings, ran through her body. He invoked desires she’d thought long buried. She should be running a thousand miles from him, but instead she allowed him to lead her around the gardens.
Thank goodness she’d left her closed sketchbook back where she’d been sitting. There was no sense in his seeing what she’d drawn there. It was too personal, too sensual to share with a man she barely knew. A man who screamed danger to her emotional side.
Oh, quit being dramatic, she told herself. It was unlikely this man was even aware of who she was or of her wild side. After a few minutes, she relaxed and enjoyed the tour. His knowledge of the garden was vast, from the cacti and succulents, to sweet acacia and oleanders, to tubular flowers, desert willows, and palm trees. She wondered if he was the gardener.
She glanced at his hands. No, there were no rough calluses scraping her skin at his touch. So who was he? He hadn’t given her a single clue. But she was enjoying walking by his side and listening to his deep voice.
When they arrived back at the spot where he’d found her, she knelt and picked up her sketchpad. “I must go and get ready for dinner.”
“Of course.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm, and briefly the tip of his tongue swept over her skin, making her nerves dance. “Until later, my beautiful dove.”
As he walked away, she thought about how easy it would be to let this man overwhelm her common sense. He was so naturally charismatic, he should be locked up before every woman within a hundred-mile radius fell in love with him.
Her stomach fluttered; that man was trouble. And she wasn’t very good at avoiding danger. Look at what had happened with Jamie and the press, one unholy mess. With a sigh, Catherine turned and went inside. She’d treat Malik like a ship passing in the night, if only she could stop thinking about him.
As she arrived at her room, a maid showed up, advising her she had a half hour before dinner and asking if she needed any help getting ready.
Catherine declined the help and went into the bathroom. After a quick shower, she pulled an emerald sundress out of the closet. Nice enough but not too formal. Would Malik like it? She shook her head, reminding herself she was dressing for herself, not him. She applied a light coating of makeup and then gathered up her hair and secured it in an ornate clip Jamie had given her. Her fingers trembled. Jamie had bought the clip in Spain, on one of his road trips. Tears gathered in her eyes.
While the intense pain from losing him was gone, her memories of him were fully intact. He had been her best friend, and she missed him every day. She missed his wacky sense of humor, the way he’d make fun of himself, and especially the way he could make her laugh.
She sobered instantly. She hadn’t laughed in a long time. Her stomach churned, knowing she didn’t have a lot of laughter in her life. Well, that would change with this job. Children had a way of making you laugh, because kids were kids no matter where you were in the world.
Shaking away her gloomy thoughts, Catherine slipped into a pair of black ballet slippers and left the room. She followed the maid’s instructions to the staircase and descended.
Malik waited at the bottom of the stairs. Damn, if the man didn’t look sexy. He was dressed a bit more formally than earlier, now in black slacks and a white shirt with a black jacket, but no tie.
His raven hair, which earlier had looked wild and untamed, now lay silky against his scalp, but she detected a wave flowing through it. She longed to run her fingers through his hair just to see how soft it really was.
“Good evening, Catherine.” His husky greeting sent shivers of awareness skittering over her nerves.
“Good evening, Malik.”
“You look stunning.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart.
His heart beat strong beneath her palm, while her heart pounded. She was glad she’d dressed up a little bit. “And I think you’re a natural flirt.” For some reason, the banter relaxed her. Usually, she didn’t go in for teasing, but she enjoyed it with him.
“Guilty as charged.” He leaned down. “But don’t tell anyone or else I’m done for,” he whispered before straightening and tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. “It is my pleasure to escort you.”
“Lead on.” She followed him down the same hallway she’d taken that morning with the queen, and into the same room.
Catherine wasn’t sure what to expect, but the last thing she’d anticipated was the room to fall silent when they entered. All eyes were focused on them.
“It figures. The oldest always gets to the ladies first,” said one of the men. Catherine sucked in a breath; he was a younger version of Malik.
“Oh, hush,” Anna said, walking to them. “I hope you had a nice rest, Catherine.”
“Yes, I did. Thank you.” Catherine’s gaze quickly went to the three men standing in the room whom she hadn’t met. It was easy to see the resemblance among them all. Jet black hair, varying shades of brown eyes, and to top it off, they all had the same bone structure as the king. Including Malik. Her stomach clenched.
Was he part of the royal family? This gorgeous man who’d kissed her in the airport, was he royalty? Her muscles tightened as the conversation flowed around her, and she looked from face to face, seeing if she could figure out where Malik fit.
“At least my oldest son has some manners, compared to the rest of you,” Jamal said as he crossed the room to the small bar.
“Oh, please. It’s been drummed into him since he was two. Of course he has better manners than the rest of us. He’s not human anymore,” said another man with a drink in his hand, his dark hair slightly longer than that of the other men.
“Yeah, always minding his p’s and q’s. Thank goodness I didn’t have to do that,” said another. When Catherine glanced at him, she figured him to be the youngest. His features seemed slightly boyish as he rocked on his feet.
“Boys, please,” Anna said, exasperation tinting her voice.
“What would you like to drink, Miss Taylor?” the king asked.
The question jolted her out of her study of each person. “Juice, if you have it, sir. And please call me Catherine.”
The king smiled. “Of course, Catherine.” He poured a glass of dark red liquid and brought it over to her. “And please remember, I’m Jamal.”
Catherine took a sip of the cool pomegranate juice, then set the glass down upon hearing raised voices. Nearby, the three other men jostled for position.
Jamal let out a
deep-throated laugh. “Let me introduce you to these boys before they fall over each other.”
He took her arm away from Malik and led her across the room. “This is Rafi.”
“Miss Catherine.” Rafi took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m affectionately known as ‘the spare’. If you want to ride in the desert, I’m your man.”
The man next to Rafi gently removed her hand from his. “Rafi is a flirt. I’m Hassan. I’m a doctor at the hospital where you’ll be painting the mural.”
Catherine was briefly startled by Hassan’s blue eyes. Everyone else had dark eyes. Hassan grinned. “I’m a throwback to an older generation, or so I’m told. Thank goodness there are paintings to prove it or everyone would think I was adopted.”
She laughed. “I look forward to seeing them, and it’s great you’re the doctor. I look forward to working with you.” These guys had cornered the market on charisma and charm.
“And I’m Khalid,” the third man said, drawing her hand away from Hassan. “I take care of security. Which I can see will need to be beefed up since we now have a single, gorgeous woman at the palace.”
Catherine’s cheeks grew warm, but before she could say anything, Malik said, “Flirts, all of you.”
He stared at each man as he spoke. “If she wants to ride in the desert, I will be taking her, Rafi. Hassan, you have better things to do at your hospital, so I will take care of Catherine. Khalid, put your charm in your back pocket where it belongs.” His voice was hard, but there was a slight teasing note in it as well.
Everyone in the room burst out laughing, and it gave Catherine a chance to study each man again. Then it hit her. Her brain finally put together all the pieces of seeing the men in the family together. Now she couldn’t miss the resemblance Malik had to the king, nor could she miss it with the other men.
“Boys,” Anna said, clapping her hands together. The room quieted. “We don’t want to frighten Catherine away on her first night.”
“That’s quite all right, Anna.” Catherine deliberately caught each man’s gaze for a moment before coming to rest on Malik. “Boys will be boys, no matter what age.” Then she asked, “And Malik, what’s your position in the family?”
Silence fell on the room, then Rafi let loose with what she classified as a snort of laughter. He walked to where Catherine stood next to Malik.
Taking her hand, he placed it in Malik’s. “Catherine, may I introduce you to Malik Jamal al-Hakim, the crown prince of Bashir.”
Her fingers tightened around Malik’s as the room spun. The crown prince, then that meant … oh, God. She’d kissed the future king.
4
Malik wanted to shoot his younger brother, but at the moment there was nothing he could do. He gazed at Catherine’s face. At first he saw disbelief in her eyes, then acceptance, followed by anger before she masked it.
“I didn’t realize.” She tried to tug her hand away, but he refused to let her go.
“No reason to treat me any differently, no matter what my brothers say.” He hoped she understood. He wanted her to treat him like she would any other man, and he would make that clear to her later. In private, away from his interfering family.
“Enough of this posturing,” Jamal said, removing her hand from Malik’s. “As the oldest male, it will be my pleasure to escort the two most beautiful women into dinner.”
Catherine didn’t look back as his father led her to the dining room. Malik clenched his jaw and followed.
Malik took his usual seat next to his father and watched Catherine. She was quiet during dinner, unless asked a direct question. Of course, his brothers made up for her silence.
It bothered Malik to see Catherine withdrawn. Admittedly, he didn’t know her very well, but this quiet woman was at odds with the woman he’d met that afternoon, the vibrant woman who’d walked around the garden with him. The woman who’d kissed him at the airport.
He was glad when dinner was over and they were headed back to the living room. Now he could have a quick conversation with her. As everyone made their way into the room, Malik snagged Catherine by the arm and pulled her aside. “You’re angry with me.”
“Yes. Why did you kiss me?”
Malik considered her question. “Because I wanted to,” he said truthfully. He always tried to be honest.
“Was it necessary to sic the paparazzi on me?”
He winced. “I’m sorry about that. I had no options to speak of. I was trying to accomplish a meeting. If the paparazzi got ahold of it, it would be front page news, and the idea would never see the light of day.” He clenched his free hand. “I didn’t want to use you that way, but when I saw you … ”
He glanced up, and she turned her head. His family was in an animated discussion. He cupped her chin and brought her attention back to him. Malik lowered his voice and head.
“When I saw you, you were my angel coming to the rescue. The kiss wasn’t planned, I couldn’t help myself. Especially when you kissed me back.” And what a kiss it had been. He wanted to taste her ruby lips once again, but he’d wait.
“Yes, well … ” Catherine dipped her head away from his hold. “I don’t go around kissing strangers.”
“Of course you don’t.” He was intrigued by her pink cheeks. But she had no reason to be upset. He was the one whose actions were questionable. He cupped her chin again and raised her face so he could see into her eyes. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. It was an honest kiss between two honest people. I’d rather have honesty than artifice any day.”
“I’m sure you get a lot of it in your daily life.” When he didn’t answer, she went on, “Artifice, that is.”
“More than I want.”
A mutual silence fell between them. “I appreciate your getting the press off my back,” Malik finally said.
“It’s hard having to face them twenty-four seven,” she said quietly.
“More than you know.”
Catherine almost said she did know. Been there, done that type of thing. She’d had enough being the center of attention with the press because of her parents, and then with Jamie. Although it hadn’t been Jamie’s fault. But she wasn’t going to mention any of this to Malik; she wanted to be known for herself and her work, not her family connections.
In some ways, she understood why Malik had done what he did with the press. It didn’t mean she had to like it, but she understood it. Her anger evaporated. He had his reasons, even if he couldn’t share them with her.
“How about a deal?” she asked.
“I’m listening.” He leaned closer.
“You don’t feed me to the press again, and I’ll forgive you.”
Malik grinned and her heart turned over. His sexy grin could tempt a nun to sin. Gentle fingers grasped hers, raising her hand and laying it over his heart. “I promise not to leave you alone with the press.”
“Shouldn’t you be holding your own hand over your heart?”
“I like yours better.”
He was an unabashed flirt, and she’d better remember that. He was the crown prince, and she needed to remember that too. While, logically, she should be running a thousand miles away from him, emotionally, she couldn’t. Something about him tugged at the place locked away in her heart, and if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to run, at least not yet. She wanted to explore her feelings with Malik, no matter how dangerous it could be to her emotional health.
Those feelings could get her into big trouble. She was treading a fine line here. Malik should be off limits to her, not only because he was the crown prince, but because of the press. They could be so relentless, and the last thing she wanted was them digging up her past. But for the moment, she was safe.
“Why don’t we join the others?”
“Of course.” Instead of releasing her as she expected, he kept her hand tucked in his, even after they were seated and coffee was being served.
When Catherine saw Rafi’s questioning look, she slipped
her hand away from Malik’s. This was awkward. Yes, she wanted to get to know Malik better, but she wasn’t ready for him to claim her as his.
“Are you planning to visit the hospital tomorrow?” Anna asked, ignoring the tension in the room.
“Oh, yes,” Catherine said, grateful to Anna for returning to the topic of her work. “I can’t wait to see where I’ll be working.” She was eager to start on the mural. It would take her mind off Malik and her thoughts about him. Nothing absorbed her attention more than creating art.
“Are you sure?” Jamal asked. “It’s quite all right if you wish to wait a day or two until you’re used to the heat.”
“Thank you, Jamal, but I’ll be fine,” she assured him. The only time she’d be out in the heat was when she went outside, as most hospitals were air-conditioned.
Jamal kept his gaze on her for a moment, before turning to Malik. “Of course, Malik will be your escort, and he will explain everything we’re hoping to accomplish with the mural.”
“Wait a minute, that should be my job,” Hassan said in a teasing tone. “After all, I’m the doctor and the mural was my idea.”
“Rank has its privileges.” Malik gave her another one of his heart-stopping grins. Her reaction to him was not good, and having him escort her around wasn’t going to help. She didn’t need to be around him any more than necessary.
Lord, she was a mass of contradictions. At first she had wanted to explore these new feelings with Malik, and now she didn’t.
“As head of security, it should be my job,” Khalid said.
Catherine watched as the brothers bantered back and forth about who should escort her and who would be better for the job. Except Rafi; he seemed content to let the others talk. When Rafi noticed she was looking at him, he winked.
Since she was an only child, she’d never been around a family like this. Her childhood had been spent either in front of the press or with a nanny, so to say she was fascinated by the byplay of the brothers was an understatement.
Jamal was also sitting this out, letting Malik, Hassan, and Khalid argue back and forth. Malik seemed to be winning, and she wondered if as a child he’d ordered his brothers around as he was trying to do now.
