Susan Mallery - The Sheikh & the Princess Bride

by The Sheikh

  “I understand that you’re the prince and everything,” she said as she climbed inside, “but that’s not important to the rest of my students. I have a responsibility to them as well as you and I can’t disappear on a moment’s notice just because you will it.”

  He grinned and drove through the airport. “Actually, you can. I promise not one of your students will complain.”

  “But that’s because you’re in charge of the air force.”

  “Yes.”

  Obviously she wasn’t getting through. “You need to use your power for good, not evil.”

  His dark eyes crinkled at the corners. “I promise nothing evil will happen today.”

  “I’m not sure that’s good enough.”

  “You will have to trust me.”

  Something she wasn’t prepared to do. Not completely. He was the kind of man who hated being defeated by anyone and her ability to consistently cramp his winning streak was problematic. The thing was, she didn’t know what to do about it.

  Usually she accepted the situation and moved on. But with Jefri…

  If he’d been a lousy kisser none of this would have mattered. Or if he didn’t make her heart beat so fast. If she didn’t like him she wouldn’t care that she had the potential to grind his ego into dust.

  “Stop thinking,” he told her. “You are here to enjoy yourself and be impressed.”

  “This isn’t about flying, is it?” she asked. “That’s kind of a bad place to try to impress me.”

  He smiled. “We shall see.”

  Maybe she could pretend to be impressed, she thought, as he circled behind the hangars for Bahanian Air and headed for a large, unmarked structure. If she could just act like other women, then she could coo and swoon and do all those girly things. Lord knows she had the hair products to go all gooey.

  Jefri stopped by the door to the large structure.

  “When you get out, I want you to cover your eyes.”

  She glanced at him. “Not exactly my style.”

  “Please. I want this to be a surprise.”

  And she wanted to see him smile again. “Okay.”

  She climbed down, then covered her eyes with one hand. He took the other and led her into the building. She immediately sensed the change from bright sunlight to dim shade.

  “Do not move,” he said, stepping away.

  She heard footsteps, then a click, followed by an explosion of light.

  “Now,” he told her.

  She opened her eyes and looked around. The gasp of appreciation didn’t have to be faked. She meant it all the way down to her toes.

  “You’re kidding,” she breathed as she took in a hangar full of beautiful restored old planes.

  She spotted a Tiger Moth, a Fokker, even a Spitfire. Billie felt her chest getting tight as she tried to take in the wonders of Jefri’s very private air museum.

  “I can’t believe it,” she breathed. “You own these?”

  “This is only part of my collection,” he said as he walked toward the large airplane-sized hangar doors and pushed a button. The huge metal doors began to open.

  “Several of my planes are at the Bahanian national museum. A few are taken around to air shows.”

  He walked over and took her hand, then led her to the Tiger Moth.

  “Your headgear and goggles are there,” he said pointing to a small table beside the plane.

  Her mouth dropped open. “We’re going up in it?”

  “Of course.” He grinned. “They are all fully functional.”

  “I…You…” Okay, so she was stunned past talking. Fine with her.

  She circled the old plane and ran her hands lovingly along the fuselage.

  “Amazing,” she breathed.

  “Here.”

  Jefri tossed her a leather helmet and goggles. She slipped into her jacket, then the helmet. The step up presented a bit of a problem. Billie judged the distance, the skimpiness of her skirt and her high-heeled sandals. There seemed to be only one solution.

  She stepped out of her shoes and grabbed them in one hand. After tucking her goggles into her jacket pocket, she reached for the handholds and pulled herself up and into the plane. She had a feeling that she’d probably flashed Jefri along the way, but she was too happy to care.

  “She’s fabulous,” she called as he took the position behind hers.

  “She’s my favorite,” he admitted.

  Two men in gray jumpsuits walked over and pulled the blocks away from the wheels. Jefri started the engine. As the plane slowly moved forward, Billie studied the simple design of the cockpit, the minimal information provided.

  But what the plane lacked in technology it made up for in sheer flying pleasure, she thought as they moved down the runway then eased off the ground. The Tiger Moth flew at a speed close to a jet’s stall level. They were airborne, yet only a few dozen feet from the ground. There was no pull of G-force, no sense of power or thrust or barely controlled power.

  Instead she could feel the rush of the air as they moved higher and faster. The more they climbed, the more the temperature dropped, making her glad for her jacket. The airport got smaller and smaller below, yet the sky seemed infinitely vast above them. In a jet, she had a sense of wanting to get there quickly. In the Tiger Moth, she wasn’t sure she wanted to arrive at all.

  “Here. You try it,” Jefri yelled from behind her.

  She took the stick and felt the old plane respond to her touch. She slowed down, then sped up to get a feel for the parameters before trying a few lazy circles and a steep climb.

  “Admit it,” he said loudly. “You’re impressed.”

  She laughed. “Absolutely. I want one.”

  “They’re not that hard to come by.”

  Perhaps not, but she lived her life out of a suitcase. Sometimes it was difficult enough to get a room with a bathtub. Billie wasn’t sure how she would drag another plane along. Still…maybe it was worth looking into.

  She swooped over the city. The view was different than it had been in her jet.

  Now there was time to study the various buildings and notice how the blocks were so square and tidy. She saw the clear demarcation line where civilization gave way to the emptiness of the desert.

  “I think I gave up on small planes too soon,” she said. “I couldn’t wait to go faster and faster. Now I’m not sure why.”

  “These were real workhorses in their time,” he told her. “Planes like these were used to map the desert. It was too dangerous to do on foot.”

  A different time, she thought. Simpler. “I would have liked that job,” she said.

  “Now there isn’t any unknown to fly into.”

  Of course she still would have been a woman in a man’s world. Somehow she didn’t think it would have been any easier back then.

  “You would have been at great risk,” he said over the wind.

  “In what way?”

  He laughed. “We were not so civilized back then. The harem was still filled with beautiful women. Had you flown into our desert, I suspect you would have been captured and presented to my great-grandfather as a prize.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “It would have been a great honor.”

  “To be one of the crowd? No thanks.” She did a large figure eight. “Is there still a harem?”

  “That part of the palace still exists, but it has been empty since my grandfather’s time.”

  “How disappointing for you.”

  Jefri laughed. “I do not need to hold my women captive to keep them at my side.”

  Hardly a newsflash, she thought. All he would have to do was crook his finger and the ladies would come running. She liked to think that she would be different and at least try to resist, but she knew she was wrong.

  “Go north,” he said. “About thirty miles.”

  She checked the compass and turned the plane to the correct heading. Below them several roads cut through the desert. She searched for s
igns of nomadic tribes but saw none. No doubt they preferred to stay farther away from the city.

  A few minutes later Jefri had her turn east. Up ahead she saw a small oasis and what looked like a very rudimentary runway.

  “She will do the work for you,” he said. “Let her down easily.”

  Billie dropped lower and lower, aiming the nose toward the runway. At the last minute, she pulled up slightly so the plane landed on the rear wheels first. A cloud of dust rose up as they slowed, then finally stopped.

  “Welcome to my private paradise,” he said.

  She took off her goggles. “Is it really yours?”

  “I claimed it when I first flew here at age twelve. No one has disputed my ownership, so yes, it is mine.”

  Must be nice, she thought as she collected her shoes and stepped out of the cockpit.

  “Wait,” Jefri said as he jumped down first.

  He stood just below her and held out his arms. Ah, the hardships her career forced upon her, she thought cheerfully as she surrendered to gravity and allowed Jefri to catch her against his hard body.

  He held her a fraction of a second longer than necessary, not that she minded, before assisting her with her shoes. They left their jackets, helmets and goggles in the plane and walked toward the clusters of plants and trees at the edge of the water.

  “Are there underground springs?” she asked.

  “Hundreds. My brother, Reyhan, has a house in the middle of the desert that sits on top of a spring. He and his wife live there now. The fabled City of Thieves is said to exist at the edge of an underground river.”

  Billie frowned. “I remember reading about the City of Thieves when I was doing research on your country. It is supposed to be hidden somehow. The way the buildings blend in with the land or something. One account I read said there was a medieval castle there.”

  “How interesting,” Jefri said in a carefully neutral tone.

  “Is it real? The city?”

  He drew her close and brought her hand up to rest on his arm. “Bahania is a land of much beauty and many mysteries. Perhaps you should give yourself time to discover them all.”

  “Hardly an answer,” she grumbled but without much energy. When faced with the beauty of the oasis, what did a mythical city matter?

  He pointed out different types of trees and shrubs. She bent down to feel the softness of the grass that grew right to the edge of the large pond in the center of the oasis. The water lapped against the bank, as if driven by a tidal force.

  “Why does it move like that?” she asked.

  “The pressure of the feeding spring.”

  “Okay, so if the pond is being constantly fed with fresh water, why doesn’t it overflow? It’s not evaporating that quickly and I don’t see any kind of drainage.”

  He smiled. “Yet another mystery to be solved. Things are more complex than they first appear.”

  He led her around a grove of palm trees where she saw two lounge chairs set up with a small table between. A cooler sat on the ground with a basket of fruit on top.

  “You’re kidding,” she said with a laugh. “You planned this?”

  “Down to the last detail. We’ll be having lunch later.”

  “I know it’s not in our plane, so did you have someone specially bring all this here?”

  “Of course.”

  He spoke so casually, she thought as he led her to one of the lounge chairs.

  Talk about the thrill of royalty. She was lucky if she could convince one of her brothers to bring her back gum from the convenience store.

  She settled down while he popped open the cooler. There were an assortment of cold sodas, juices and bottled waters. She liked that he wasn’t going to drink while they still had to fly back.

  When they were stretched out on their chairs and sipping their drinks, she glanced around at the beauty and quiet of the desert.

  “Did you run off here when you got in trouble as a kid?” she asked.

  “Sometimes. My father learned fairly quickly that I could be kept in line with the threat of losing access to my planes.”

  “I know what you mean. In my house, getting grounded was meant literally.”

  He chuckled. “I doubt you received many lectures on your duties to the people and how when you got in trouble you were letting down a thousand years of tradition.”

  “Okay, I was spared that.” She looked at him. “Did the king really bring up a thousand years of tradition in his lectures?”

  “It was a particular favorite.” Jefri shrugged. “According to him, I deeply disappointed all of our ancestors on a regular basis.”

  She couldn’t imagine having that much history in one family. She got excited when she was able to stay in one place more than eight weeks.

  “But you recovered to transgress another day,” she said.

  “Sometimes I did not wait that long.” He smiled. “I liked to explore and I rarely followed the rules.”

  “Something tells me you still don’t.”

  Instead of answering, he reached for her hand and took it in his. “Tell me what it was like when you were growing up. There was no king to make pronouncements.”

  “Maybe not, but my dad was used to being in charge. With three boys to deal with, he had to be firm.”

  Jefri rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand and made her skin tingle.

  “What about with you?”

  “Until my mom died, she took care of disciplining me. I spent most of my time with her and we always got along. She used to say how as there were only two of us, we had to band together.”

  She felt his gaze on her face. “You must have found her death very difficult.”

  “I did. I was just about to enter the whole teenaged thing, when a girl really needs her mom. She had cancer, so there was some warning, but only a few weeks.

  By the time she realized she was sick, it was already too late. My folks had first started dating in high school and my mom once admitted they’d both been each other’s first time. So when she got sick, my dad really freaked out.”

  She stared out at the horizon. “My dad traveled a lot and I thought that meant he didn’t care so much about her, but I was wrong. I remember a couple of days after she’d been diagnosed and they’d told us, I went into their bedroom to talk to her. He was there, holding her. Crying. I’d never seen my dad cry. I didn’t want to spy, but I couldn’t seem to walk away. He begged her not to die. He told her he couldn’t make it without her. I could feel their love for each other. I vowed then I would find someone to love me that much.”

  “Have you?” he asked.

  She raised her eyebrows. “We wouldn’t be sitting here holding hands if I had.”

  “An excellent point.”

  Funny how she’d begun to believe she wouldn’t find anyone to love her that much because no one seemed to be interested in her. Knowing that her brothers were scaring off potential boyfriends made her feel a little better. Although did she want someone who didn’t want her enough to go up against her brothers?

  Too confusing, she told herself, and not something to be resolved today.

  “So when your mother died, you went on the road with your father?” Jefri asked.

  She nodded. “He’d started taking the boys with him during the summer. Now, with no one left at home, we all went. Dad hired a tutor so we could keep up with school. I turned thirteen in South America and sixteen in the Middle East. Most girls get a sweet sixteen party—I soloed on a jet.”

  “Would you rather have had the party?”

  She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Are you crazy? I’d begged my dad to let me fly jets for two years before he let me. He said I couldn’t handle the technical information, so I studied physics and aerodynamics until he was forced to change his mind.”

  Jefri watched the emotions move across Billie’s face as she spoke. She was a beautiful woman, but it was not difficult to imagine the frightened young girl she must have been when
she had lost her mother. Frightened and alone, yet determined. What had he fought for when he had turned sixteen? As the youngest son of the king, he had been given nearly everything he wanted. If he recalled correctly his sixteenth birthday had involved a large party and a concert by a young female pop star.

  “You survive in a very male world,” he said.

  She laughed. “At first it sucked me in. After my mom died I thought the only way to get along with my father was to be one of the guys. I thought that would make him respect me. Over time I finally figured out I would never be another one of his sons so I stopped trying.”

  “I cannot tell you how relieved I am.”

  She laughed. “No desire to date Doyle, huh?”

  “None in the least.”

  “Around my nineteenth birthday, I said the hell with it. We were in France, at the air show. I spent two days getting my hair done, painting my nails and shopping. I went from combat boots to four-inch heels and I never looked back.”

  “What did they say?” he asked.

  “No one even noticed for a while. My dad said he thought my skirts were too short and my brothers ragged on me for my big hair. I challenged them all to a simulated dogfight. It was the first time I beat them and I’ve been kicking their butts ever since.”

  “The power of a woman,” he said, delighted by her victory.

  “Something like that.” She sipped her drink. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my family. They’re weird, but I think every family is. We live a very nomadic existence and that has made us appreciate the times when we are together.”

  “Your father never remarried?”

  “No. I wish he would. I know he loved my mom, but that’s no reason for him to be alone for so long. I don’t think she would have wanted it that way.” She looked at him. “Your father never remarried after your mother’s death.”

  “That’s true. Theirs was a love match as well, although he’d been married before. I think he found raising four sons and a daughter took too much time.

  However my father takes long trips to Europe and America where I doubt he lacks for female companionship.”

  “Good point. I doubt anyone is going to tell him she’s not interested.”