To Kiss a Sheik

by Teresa Southwick

  “I…I have to go.”

  “Not yet. Let me—”

  She shook her head. “I have to relieve Johara. The twins will wonder where I am.”

  “They know you are with me.” He frowned as he shuffled his boots in the dirt.

  “But this happened so fast.” And she didn’t just mean the riding lesson. “I…I mean I didn’t have a chance to prepare them ahead of time for my absence,” she said, starting to turn away.

  “Wait.” He reached out a hand. When he saw it was trembling, he closed his fingers into a fist. His eyes were dark and unreadable when he said, “I have made you uncomfortable.”

  “Yes— No— I—”

  “It will not happen again.”

  Did that mean he was going to fire her?

  He ran a hand through her hair. “But I do not regret discovering that there are many more facets to you than I guessed. I look forward to learning more of them.”

  She let out a long breath. The good news was she wasn’t going to lose her job. The bad news—he wanted to find out more about her. And she knew he would.

  Because he never lied. The thought sent a shiver rushing through her at the same time she realized she couldn’t let it happen. “I’ve been thinking. Since my lesson today went so well, maybe I could just practice by myself from now on?”

  He shook his head. “There is more instruction I must give you.”

  The way her heart hammered now, she was afraid to think about what kind of education he had in mind. “But I still feel I’m taking you away from your other, more pressing matters.”

  What else could be more pressing than the tender way he’d held her? Obviously his kiss had produced a brain meltdown since there was no other explanation for her thinking in double entendres.

  “On the contrary. Time is of the essence. In two weeks you must be proficient enough to accompany the children and I into the desert. There is something of importance I must attend to and I wish Hana and Nuri to go along. Therefore I require your presence.”

  “I see.”

  Crystal’s eyes widened, and she was grateful he couldn’t see. When he dropped his hand, she resisted the urge to rub the warm place where his strong fingers had held her. Surely the heat had branded her forever. Alarmed at her reaction and inability to control it, she whirled away from him. With a great deal of self-restraint, she kept herself from running back to her room. With enough distance his spell over her disappeared, and she realized he hadn’t said he was sorry. She couldn’t help being glad about that even though he probably never apologized for anything.

  And she didn’t want him to now. From the time boys had discovered her, she’d been judged by outward appearances. He’d kissed her in spite of the way she looked. And it had felt awfully wonderful. She couldn’t be sorry.

  But she was in trouble. The only questions—how big and was it irreparable?

  Chapter Five

  It had been two weeks since Fariq had kissed the daylights out of her.

  As Crystal rode her horse behind his into the desert, she realized that her standard of marking time had been forever altered to before the kiss and after. Before was your basic ignorance-is-bliss scenario, because no other man had ever kissed her like that. And after? That was hell, because now she knew how wonderful it felt.

  Ever since, she’d wondered why she hadn’t demanded an explanation for his actions on the spot. It always came back to the fact that she’d been too anxious to keep him from removing her glasses. But that didn’t explain why he’d kissed her when she’d done everything possible to disappear off his radar.

  She’d expected him to blame her for it, but he’d never said a word. Never even brought up the subject. Never said he was sorry. Never kissed her again.

  Unfortunately, there was a reason for that and it was pretty humiliating. He’d been unimpressed with her. And his grand declaration about getting to know her better was just so much hot air. Because if he’d wanted to, there had been ample opportunity. They’d spent every afternoon riding together. Sometimes the children came along for their own instruction. But frequently they were alone so that he could make sure she was ready for the big outing. Eventually he’d told her they were going to the oasis for some mysterious, traditional thing he did.

  Now here she was, following him as ordered. His security staff surrounded them—some on horseback, others in all terrain vehicles—all of them positioned at a discreet distance. Excitement hummed through her at the adventure of it all, the chance to rough it in the wilds of El Zafir. She couldn’t wait to e-mail her mother with the spine-tingling details.

  Tingle number one: watching Fariq riding with his children. He was so tender with them. Each child had started out on their own mount until fatigue set in, then he’d put them in one of the security vehicles. She was glad the children would be reunited with them when they arrived. Because Fariq might not want another mouth-to-mouth go-round, but she was sure tempted. Twin chaperones would nip that little problem in the bud.

  Tingle number two: the mystery of it all. The destination was never in question. But the purpose was shrouded in secrecy. She’d been unable to coax even a hint of their mission from Princess Farrah. The woman had merely looked perplexingly pleased when Crystal had mentioned the upcoming trip.

  She was bursting with curiosity as she nudged her horse to go a little faster and came up alongside Fariq. “Are we there yet?”

  He glanced at her, and the sudden power and appeal of his grin tilted her world. She gripped the saddle horn to keep from falling off. Obviously, he’d recognized her imitation of his children, who had no frame of reference for arrival time.

  “Soon.”

  It had been his standard response to the twins since ten minutes after leaving the stables. As nearly as she could tell, they’d been traveling for close to two hours.

  She looked at the panorama of the desert, marveling at the stark beauty. “And we can’t even play the license plate game.”

  “What game is this?”

  “On a long car trip, my parents used to keep the five of us entertained by looking for all the letters of the alphabet on the license plates of passing cars.”

  He followed her gaze. Since the vehicles were too far away to see clearly, there was nothing much there but sand. “No, that is not possible here.”

  She shifted in the saddle and marveled that she was getting used to the exercise and wasn’t sore. Practice makes perfect, she thought. And her traditional clothes were wonderfully comfortable.

  “I like my appropriate attire,” she said. “You were right.”

  “Of course.” One corner of his wonderful mouth lifted. “About what?”

  “The boots are definitely a help. My feet don’t slip in the stirrups now.”

  “The traditional El Zafirian garb suits you.”

  A glow started inside her at his words. When she’d first tried the clothes on, she thought she’d never get used to all the layers. She wore a white robe that fell to her feet with a hood to cover her hair. A detachable veil was hooked in place to hide her face. Beneath this outer garment, she had on loose-fitting trousers and a matching long-sleeved, high-necked shirt made from a soft, lightweight and very luxurious weave of cotton. It had looked stifling, but proved incredibly cool.

  She smiled. “I don’t think the fashion police would share your opinion that it suits me, but that’s their problem. This is probably the most comfortable outfit I’ve ever worn. Your country is light-years ahead in the sunscreen department. There’s no way the UV rays are getting through all these layers of material.”

  “And the boots are satisfactory, as well?”

  She nearly sighed in ecstasy. The leather was soft and supple, almost caressing her feet. And as she’d already said, eminently practical. “Oh, yeah. Definitely satisfactory.”

  “I am glad they please you.” He guided his mount to the vehicle in which his children were riding.

  “Are we there yet, Papa?” Hana asked
again through the open window.

  “Yes, Papa,” Nuri chimed in. “My tushy hurts.”

  Fariq looked at her as one eyebrow rose. “Tushy?”

  “It’s an American expression for vulnerable parts.”

  “I have heard it.” He looked at his son. “It will not be long.”

  “There,” Crystal said, pointing as they crested the sand dune alongside the all-terrain vehicle. “It looks like an oasis and tent to me.”

  “Ya-ay!” both children called out.

  With her own excitement barely contained, Crystal scanned the scene as they lumbered over the dune. Palm trees dotted the area, along with lush vegetation and a small lake. In the center was a large, sturdy-looking tent. Just beyond it was a satellite dish she figured was for communication purposes and not HBO.

  “What’s that?” she asked pointing to a large shed next to the dish.

  “A generator for climate control.”

  “So this is roughing it, El Zafirian style,” she said dryly. When would she remember to think outside the box where the royal family was concerned?

  She was surprised to see a good number of people milling around the open area in front of the compound.

  She looked at Fariq. “Apparently word of your visit leaked out.”

  “Not a leak,” he said. And mysteriously neglected to add more by way of explanation.

  Before she could ask, they stopped and were surrounded by four members of his security team. She was helped to dismount and, along with Fariq and the children, escorted inside the tent. He suggested she look around and took the children off with him.

  After several moments her eyes adjusted to the interior after the brightness outside. Then all she could think was wow! The tent was bigger than she’d first thought; huge, in fact, and partitioned into rooms. Silk hangings decorated the walls, costly Persian rugs were arranged on the floor and colorful, cushy pillows covered low white sofas scattered throughout. As she strolled through she saw that there were bedrooms and bathing facilities.

  When she worked her way back to where she’d started exploring, she saw a wooden table and chairs that rivaled the one in the palace dining room. Running her finger over the polished teak, she noticed the legs were carved with what looked like scenes. The pieces were rubbed to a high gloss and quite lovely. She continued strolling until she arrived at the largest area, which would have been a ballroom anywhere else. It was without furniture except for a wooden chair set up at one end with a line of people waiting in front of it. She was reminded of the mall Santa at Christmas.

  Fariq stopped beside her. “It is time to begin.”

  “Begin what?” she asked, as the children each grabbed on to one of her hands.

  “You will see.” He pointed to a pile of cushions next to the chair. “Bring the children and sit there.”

  “Okay.”

  Feeling as wide-eyed as the twins, Crystal did as instructed and settled them on the soft, comfortable seat. Trustingly, they nestled one on each side of her, and out of the blue, a lump jumped into her throat. It surprised her how quickly she’d come to care for these two, and all her protective instincts cranked into high gear. Especially when she noticed the curiosity they’d generated in the line of people waiting. The staring made her feel uncomfortable.

  A man stood behind her. “I am Khalid, aide to Prince Fariq. He has requested me to interpret for you.”

  She started to ask what was happening, but he shushed her with a finger to his lips. A man stepped before Fariq and bowed at the waist. In what she assumed was native El Zafirian, he spoke long and earnestly. Fariq listened attentively then answered in the unfamiliar language. A huge grin spread over the man’s face and he bowed again before backing away.

  “What happened?” she asked Khalid.

  “The man’s wife is with child. She has miscarried twice before and there are again difficulties. He must transport her to the capital city for continuing medical care. When it’s time for the birth, he wants the baby born in the new hospital Prince Kamal is building.”

  “Will it be ready in time?” she asked, concerned.

  He nodded. “It will open shortly. This man hasn’t a reliable vehicle to make so important a journey.”

  “Then what will he do?” Crystal asked.

  “The prince just gave him one,” Khalid said seriously.

  Her eyes widened. “Just like that? Fariq gave away a car?”

  “Yes.”

  “This isn’t even The Price is Right—”

  He shushed her again when another person stepped before Fariq. Crystal watched the earnest appeal of a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. Because she didn’t understand the words, she studied Fariq. Her heart beat a little faster when she realized how handsome he looked in his traditional clothing. The cotton trousers and shirt with sash at the waist definitely suited him. He looked like a three-dimensional definition of romantic rogue.

  Watching the emotions on his face, she noticed the gleam in his dark eyes. She swore he was holding back a grin. But he continued to listen intently. Finally he spoke and the serious expression on the stranger’s face disappeared, replaced by a broad smile as he bowed and backed away. Obviously, his wish had been granted. She could hardly wait for the translation.

  “Khalid, what—”

  “He requested a loan. It is his intention to start a furniture business.”

  “And, just like that, the prince feels the man is a good risk?”

  “His concern is not the success or failure of the venture. Prince Fariq made a gift of more money than requested. His only stipulation was to employ as many as possible. His objective is to give his people a means of earning a living for their families.”

  “Wow.”

  She started to say to the children that their father was the El Zafirian equivalent of Santa Claus and the good fairy all rolled into one. But when she glanced down, she saw that they were asleep, each with a cheek resting on one of her legs. Obviously the ride had wiped them out. Fatigue, not fascination, had rendered them speechless. So she left them to rest as the process went on and on.

  Fariq granted requests ranging from money for burdensome medical bills to funds for college to more capital for business ventures. Khalid explained it was more than mere generosity. The prince wanted to diversify the country’s economy and it was economically sound to put people to work. The whole procedure was fascinating to her. And from the expression on his face, Fariq loved every minute of this job.

  For the second time that day, emotion bubbled inside her. She’d understood what she felt for the children. This feeling for their father was far more complicated. Inappropriate and untimely were two adjectives that instantly came to mind. And that was one spine-tingling and potentially worrisome detail she wouldn’t be sharing with her mother. Because Crystal had no intention of allowing her obviously one-sided, dead-end attraction to become a problem.

  The following morning outside the tent, Fariq kissed Hana and Nuri goodbye then handed them into the SUV with the driver/bodyguard who would deliver them safely to the palace.

  “Be good for Aunt Farrah,” he said to Nuri.

  “Yes, Papa,” the boy answered. “But when is Nanny coming home? I have something I need to show her.”

  “It is her day off. You must wait.”

  “Why does she need a day off?” he asked.

  Fariq grinned at his son. “Because you two keep her very busy and she must take some time to rest.”

  “We just play with her. She is more fun that Aunt Farrah.”

  “Yes,” his sister agreed. “Almost as fun as Aunt Johara. But I like Nanny best.”

  Fariq liked her, too. More than he wanted to admit. Since he’d kissed her, he’d been able to think of little else. The daily riding sessions had been torture as he’d struggled with his yearning to do so again. That first day, if he hadn’t been so frustrated by his inability to touch her, he would have been able to resist the temptation to know whether or not h
er lips were as soft and responsive as they looked. He regretted that he’d sent her running like a scared rabbit, but it was difficult to be contrite when she’d rewarded him with such a passionate response.

  Yesterday he’d surreptitiously watched her as he’d listened to his people’s petitions. His intention had been to impress her, but he had yet to understand why it was important to do so. Now he was most curious to find out if he’d succeeded.

  He sighed as he gazed at his children. “I’m glad you like Nanny. And do you wish her to be happy with us?”

  “Yes,” both children agreed.

  “As do I. So we must see that she has the opportunity to rest.”

  “Who’s resting?”

  He turned and saw Crystal emerge from the tent. She wore her robes, and the veil hid her face. But her eyes, even behind her glasses, were alight with humor. Dancing, he thought as his stomach tightened in warning.

  “You are,” he said. “At least it was my intention that you should.”

  “Nanny, we are going to Aunt Farrah so you can be happy,” Nuri said.

  Hana nodded. “Papa says you need to rest.”

  He shook his head at his children. They sometimes seemed two halves of a whole. To get across a complete idea, both of them had to put their thoughts together.

  Crystal walked to the vehicle. “I’m not tired. If you need me I’ll go with you.”

  The children shook their heads, and like a good little martyr Nuri said, “We’ll find someone else to play with.”

  “I’m sure your Aunt Johara will entertain you,” she suggested.

  They nodded. “Goodbye, Nanny.”

  Crystal hugged them both. “Be good.”

  Fariq frowned as the door was closed and his driver whisked them away. The mention of his sister’s name made him uneasy. Johara’s mother had been much like his wife—wild and selfish. He felt more serene when his daughter was in Crystal’s care. But by contract she was entitled to one full day and an afternoon off a week. Aunt Farrah had scolded him because Crystal never took the whole time. She went into the capital city once a week for an errand, but immediately returned to the palace. She was constantly with the children, but today he would change that.