Her Desert Prince (Desert Destiny Series Book 1)

by Marie Tuhart

  Using makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes, she gave her wardrobe the once over. She finally selected a pair of black jeans and a green blouse. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was after nine; she’d better hurry if she wanted something to eat before she left for the hospital.

  Catherine made her way downstairs and headed for the dining room. But it was empty. Had she missed breakfast?

  “May I help you, ma’am?”

  Catherine jumped at the voice behind her and turned to see a maid giving her a timid smile.

  “Did I miss breakfast?”

  “No, ma’am. Everyone is in the breakfast room. This way.” The maid gestured for Catherine to follow her.

  She heard raised voices before she reached the door. “Thank you.” She smiled at the maid, who scurried off. Catherine hovered in the doorway. There were people everywhere, or at least it seemed that way. Anna sat at the table, while Malik and his father were surrounded by a group of men, all talking at once. About to back away, she caught Anna’s gaze the second the queen looked up. Anna motioned for her to enter.

  The moment she stepped into the room, several pairs of eyes focused on her. She fought against the need to run. She hated being the center of attention like this. Stay calm. She forced her feet to move. At the table, she sat down, praying her hands would stop shaking. The conversation continued, all in Arabic.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Anna asked; her voice was soft, but her eyes were filled with concern.

  “Yes, I did, thank you,” Catherine lied, as she reached for the coffee pot and poured a cup.

  “Good,” the queen said, studying her.

  Catherine hoped the queen didn’t see through her lie. Then the voices in the room grew louder, and Catherine glanced over at Malik, who was staring at her. Her spine stiffened and she returned his look. His dark eyes held a promise he’d finish what he’d started last night.

  Molten heat invaded her veins. She hated that a single glance from him sent her emotions flaring out of control. In the past years, she’d fought to gain control over her emotions, and he wiped it all away with one heated glance. It was annoying, yet her tummy fluttered with anticipation.

  The man nearest to Malik gestured in her direction, but Malik shook his head. Catherine dropped her gaze to the plate of toast and fruit set in front of her. But that diversion only lasted for a second, as her gaze was drawn back to Malik as if compelled by his continued regard.

  Now several of the men gestured in her direction, and her belly clenched with unease. Why were they waving at her? Her stomach turned over. Something was going on and it involved her.

  “Has something happened?” she asked Anna.

  “You could say that,” Anna said, her gaze appraising Catherine.

  The cryptic answer annoyed Catherine, but before she could question Anna more, Anna turned her attention to her son and said something in Arabic.

  Catherine silently cursed she hadn’t had time to learn more than a few basic words. She transferred her glance from Anna to Malik.

  A grin tugged at his lips, and her annoyance level rose. She clenched her hand beneath the table. “Would someone please tell me what is going on?” Damn, did she just blurt that out? Silence descended on the room. Yep, she did. Oh, this was not good. Malik rose from his seat, and the men around him melted away as he came to her side.

  Her heart stopped. Had someone found out about her and Jamie? Or about her parents? Is that why everyone was upset? She pushed her plate away.

  “This is my fault, not yours,” Malik said, taking the empty seat next to her.

  “What … ” She had to swallow before she could continue. “What is your fault?”

  He gestured to the men standing in a huddle across the room. “My ministers are a little disturbed this morning.”

  “I would say it’s more than that.” She shivered at not only the hostile gazes focused in on her, but their stiff postures.

  “You’re right.” He scooted his chair closer to her and took her hand. “But don’t let them get to you. I’m taking full responsibility for what happened.”

  She signed in frustration. “Would you spit it out?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I didn’t ask if I’d like it or not, just tell me. I don’t need protecting.” The longer he held off telling her, the worse it was in her mind. Was her job over before it had even started?

  Malik glanced at his mother, who pushed several newspapers over to him. “I think these will give you the idea.”

  Catherine picked up the first paper and looked at it. “Oh, dear God.” The room spun. This was even worse than she’d imagined.

  In full color on the front page was a picture of her and Malik kissing at the airport. The caption read, “The Crown Prince’s Newest Woman.” She flipped from one paper to the next. The paparazzi had done their job, and, as always, got it totally wrong. Each headline was different, and progressively worse, from “Crown Prince’s British Mistress” to “Royal Family Secret Bride” to “Royal Baby Maker.” There were several other pictures of her outside the airport and a few of her in the car.

  Her hands shook. Oh, yes, this was far worse than her imagination, and that was saying something. She hated the paparazzi with a passion, and right now she wanted nothing more than to scream at the unfairness of it all, but she couldn’t.

  She wouldn’t lose control. She’d learned her lesson after losing her control after Jamie died. Her anger and tears could wait until she was alone. Setting the papers on the table, she looked at the queen.

  Compassion filled Anna’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Catherine. The press has no right to invade your life like this.”

  “It isn’t the first time,” she whispered, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. Once again the fates seemed to want her to suffer. She would survive, yet again. Anna opened her mouth, but several of the ministers burst into a heated discussion.

  Catherine wanted to shrink away, to hide from everyone and everything. But that wouldn’t work as it had in the past few years. “I’ll pack and be gone within the hour, if you could have someone make arrangements for a flight,” she told Anna.

  Her stomach tightened the second the words left her mouth. She was letting so many people down—her manager, the hospital, the kids, the king and queen, Malik—but she didn’t have much of a choice.

  “Like hell you will,” said Malik, his expression fierce.

  “I can’t stay.” Catherine bowed her head, fighting the tears filling her eyes. How long before the paparazzi dug up information on her parents and Jamie? She’d never regretted her time with Jamie, only how she’d reacted after his death when cornered by the press.

  “Enough,” Malik roared, rising to his feet. Catherine jumped at his abrupt action. “Out, everyone, except family and Catherine.”

  Within minutes the room was blissfully quiet. Catherine kept her head down. This was so unfair, but then so was life. She couldn’t change what she’d done in the past with the press, no matter how much it affected her future.

  Malik reclaimed his seat next to her, and then his warm fingers closed over her arm. She wanted to close her eyes and sink into his warmth; instead, she bit her lip as he cupped her chin and lifted it up.

  “You are not leaving. I won’t let you. None of this is your fault.”

  Malik watched Catherine closely. Her face was so pale he was afraid she was going to faint and her eyes … He saw the tears she refused to shed.

  Guilt punched him in the stomach. His last relationship had failed because of the press, and this one was headed in the same direction before it even started. He’d promised he’d never allow the press to hurt a woman in his life again, but damn if it hadn’t happened. It was entirely his fault; he was the one who’d used her to distract the press at the airport.

  The least he should have done was made sure no one captured a picture of her. But he’d been so wrapped up in his reaction to Catherine and his d
uty that he’d let everything else slip away. Now he had to live with the fallout. And so did she.

  When she said she was leaving … He wouldn’t allow that to happen. Without his protection the paparazzi would eat her alive.

  “I meant what I said.” He kept his voice even. While he was angry, it wasn’t with her. “This is my fault.”

  “I think we both knew what would happen,” she said quietly.

  “I did,” he corrected. “You had no idea the paparazzi would follow you like they did. I was counting on it, and I’m sorry I used you in that way. It was unworthy of me.” And it was, as his mother had reminded him when she’d scolded him before Catherine had entered the room. Now, he had to pay for it. He didn’t mind, but he wasn’t going to let Catherine pay as well. It wasn’t fair to her.

  “Darn right it was,” Anna said. “My firstborn son should know better.”

  Malik’s lips twitched. His mother was angry with him and he understood why. He could handle her anger; he was good at it.

  “Let’s stick to the issue at hand,” Jamal said for the first time.

  His father had taken on the role as mediator with the council. “Yes.” Malik took Catherine’s hand in his and frowned at how cold it was. “We have to feed the press something.”

  Anna made a rude noise, and Catherine turned her head. “It seems my son has placed you in a very awkward position.”

  “Not just Malik,” Jamal added. “I instructed him to avoid the press as much as possible, so I’m as much to blame as Malik. I’ll accept my responsibility as well.” He looked at Catherine. “You’ll need protection.”

  “From what? The press?” Confusion crossed her features.

  “Everyone,” Malik muttered, and he waited until her gaze connected with his before continuing. “Protection from the press, from the world.” The council and his enemies, he thought.

  “I can take care of myself.” She withdrew her hand from his and straightened her shoulders.

  The fire in her eyes returned, and Malik was grateful. “Not if my ministers have their way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They want me—”

  “Absolutely not,” Anna interrupted. “It’s not fair to ask that of Catherine.”

  “What?” she asked.

  Malik kept his gaze on Catherine and she held his stare. This woman wasn’t the fragile flower he’d first thought. There was steel in her as well, and it was a good thing; she’d need it if things progressed. Maybe his ministers’ idea wasn’t all that bad. It would give him and Catherine time together to explore their attraction.

  “Malik?” Catherine prompted, her arms crossed over her chest.

  He took a deep breath. “My ministers want you to pretend the papers are right. That you are going to be my crown princess.”

  7

  Two words echoed in her head. Crown princess. She closed her eyes, trying not to hyperventilate. The paparazzi would have a field day. They’d search and find her past, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t let that happen, not again. And if it did, how would it affect the royal family? She had to protect them at all costs—and herself.

  The idea of playing along with a fake engagement? She couldn’t. The paparazzi were not to be toyed with and neither were her emotions. Especially when Malik stirred her up like no other.

  “No, I can’t,” she whispered as she fluttered her hands in the air.

  Malik captured one hand and tightened his fingers around it until she looked at him. The concern in his gaze made everything fade away except the feel of his skin against hers.

  She soaked up his warmth and marveled that for once she wasn’t alone. There was someone fighting in her corner with her—for her.

  “I understand.” But his voice was flat, as if he were disappointed in her.

  What did he expect? That she’d jump at the chance? Probably. What normal woman wouldn’t want to be the crown princess? But all it did was remind her that she was different from most women, and the thought depressed her. She wanted to fit in or to at least be unnoticeable, not that it ever worked.

  “Do you really?” she said softly, then her voice rose, “I’m not press material.”

  “Nonsense,” Jamal said, gesturing at the photos in the papers. “You’re very photogenic.”

  Catherine’s lips twitched. Jamal had misunderstood.

  “Photogenic or not, she has refused, my husband,” Anna said. “And that is her decision. Let’s talk with the ministers and see what we can do to get them to understand that Malik being seen with a British citizen, and kissing her, doesn’t mean they’re an item.”

  “Like we did with you?” Jamal let out a laugh. “You do know how that worked out.”

  “Hush, husband.” Anna rose; then, arm in arm, Anna and Jamal left the room.

  Catherine shook her head and then realized Malik was sitting there holding her hand. Why?

  “My father is right, you’re very photogenic.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, causing little sparks to flow through her veins.

  “You can’t convince me to do this, Malik.” She couldn’t do it. The paparazzi would focus on her and her life, and she wouldn’t go through that again. The wounds from Jamie were just beginning to heal. To do this would start the bleeding all over again.

  Her best bet was to pack and hightail it back to London. At least at home she could lose the paparazzi. They’d give up the story after a few days, and she could go back to being a lonely artist. Oh, but she wanted to stay and do the mural. She wanted to make the children at the hospital happy and as carefree as she could with her art. She couldn’t do that if she ran.

  “Convincing you to do something you don’t wish to do is the last thing on my mind.” His gaze was intent on her, and Catherine couldn’t help the feeling of caution slipping up her spine. “But you do realize you cannot leave Bashir.”

  “What?” She blinked. She had to leave, didn’t he understand that? Especially now. Panic filled her stomach. Was she to become a prisoner in a gilded cage? She’d barely survived being one with her parents.

  “Since we’ve been linked together, the press will follow you no matter where you go. Your best bet is to stay here where we—I—can protect you.” He squeezed her fingers. “I promised you, you’d never have to face them alone, and I’m keeping that promise.”

  “But ... ” Catherine shook her head. This was rapidly getting out of control, like a runaway boulder down a steep hill, and she wasn’t sure if she could get out of the way before she was flattened.

  “There is no ‘but’ allowed.” Malik leaned forward, and she breathed in the scent of sandalwood. “They will follow you back to England and make your life a living hell. Here, I can protect you, keep them a safe distance away, and make sure you’re never alone.”

  “That won’t stop them.” Part of her wanted to fling her arms around Malik and agree to anything he had to say. Outside of Jamie, no one had ever tried to protect her this way. Yet the other side of her reminded her she’d weathered storms like this before. She’d gotten through them by herself.

  “No, but it will keep them at bay. I will have my minister of information release to the press that you are the artist who is here to paint the mural. Our meeting at the airport was planned, and I greeted you with a little more enthusiasm than normal. You are a friend of the royal family, nothing more.”

  “Like they’re going to buy that. You kissed me.” Now, why did she have to say that? She didn’t need to be reminded of their explosive kiss. She needed a distraction. With her free hand, she gestured toward the papers still on the table, knowing she was trapped. The panic had died down, mainly because Malik’s presence was keeping her sane.

  “What they believe or not, I cannot do anything about.” He framed her face with his palms, and his warmth seeped into her pores. “I can do nothing about what happened at the airport, except apologize for using you to distract the press. While I had my reasons for doing it, it was wrong, and I
knew it.” His thumb caressed her cheek in a soothing motion, while the look in his eyes begged her forgiveness.

  All the anger and helplessness flowed out of her. This strong man was apologizing to her. Apparently, he’d had a good reason, even if he hadn’t shared it, for having the press follow her. She took a chance and said, “You were trying to help your country, and I was needed to run interference.”

  “Yes.” His soft breath caressed her skin. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I take full blame for it, and I will do what I can to make it better, but I need your cooperation.”

  “You’re doing this for a good cause, right? Not just some silly political gain.”

  “It’s for my people.”

  A lump formed in her throat. He was trying to do good for his people and his country. “I don’t know if I can help.” How long would it take before the press dug up her past, even if Jamie had died seven years ago? What would happen then? How much of this would affect Malik? His family? His faith in her? His country? Let alone the effect on her emotions of being involved with Malik and this temporary engagement.

  “At least think it over.”

  Disappointment shone in his eyes, but Catherine couldn’t do anything about it. She had to protect herself. “I will.”

  “That’s all I can ask.” He slid his palms to her shoulders, grasping them lightly. “Hassan is expecting us at the hospital so you can look over the area where you’ll be working. Let’s hold any decision until after that.”

  “There are things you don’t know about me, Malik.” She had to make sure he understood, even if she didn’t tell him fully about her life.

  “I’m sure there are, and we have plenty of time to explore them. What’s important right now is your being able to work without interference from the press.”

  He made things sound so simple, and probably from his perspective they were. Right now, she would go with the flow and keep a low profile. Her goal was to do the mural and leave; she had to keep that in mind. Regardless of the spark between her and Malik. “Okay, let’s go see where I’ll be working.”