by Cara Albany
Zafar saw a flash of annoyance and, possibly, confusion in Kadir's eyes. "Sacrifice? How would choosing Alaya be a sacrifice?" he asked.
"I admit she's beautiful," Zafar said.
Kadir brightened. "She is. And extremely smart, too.
"What do your family think?" Zafar asked.
"They don't know yet."
"Really?" Zafar replied. "When are you planning on introducing her to them."
"This week."
Zafar contained his surprise and gazed steadily at Kadir. "Really?"
Kadir nodded. "I forgot to tell you. I'm holding a party here tomorrow night. And I'm inviting all my family. They haven't been here in ages. And I'm sure they'll be fascinated by what we've found in the grounds of the palace."
"And to meet Alaya," Zafar added.
"Of course," Kadir said and grinned broadly.
Zafar settled back against the seat and stretched his legs out. He sighed. "That should be interesting."
Out of the corner of his eye Zafar saw Kadir peer at him, a puzzled expression on his face. But, Zafar was determined not to continue a challenging conversation about Kadir's amorous activities. There would be time enough to change Kadir's mind, Zafar reflected.
"I'm sure my parents will approve of Alaya," Kadir said.
Zafar peered at Kadir. "You think so?"
Kadir nodded. "I'm sure they'll love her."
Zafar continued. "Your friendship with her has been quite brief, don't you think?"
Kadir shook his head. "Long enough, Zafar. And, it's a little more than just friendship," Kadir said, glancing out the window. His next words were uttered while looking toward the garden. "Much more," he added. "Fondness."
Zafar stiffened and tugged at his jacket. He drew in a deep breath. This was even worse than he'd realized. Fondness. Zafar reflected on that for a moment. He knew what Kadir really meant. And it was much more than mere fondness.
He could tell it was going to be a difficult task to persuade Kadir that even contemplating taking a lower born woman as a wife might harm his status in the kingdom. Didn't Kadir know what that would mean?
Zafar felt he was only trying to do the best for Kadir. But, he knew he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted to do was lose Kadir's friendship. They'd known one another for years, had almost grown up together.
Kadir's family was almost connected to Zafar's royal lineage, a fact which had made Zafar's friendship with Kadir somewhat acceptable to Zafar's family.
Today promised to be very difficult, Zafar reflected.
The limo drew up in front of the wide marble staircase which led up to the high, ornately carved wooden doors of the palace entrance. Both men got out of the limo and stood gazing up at the palace front.
"Aren't you concerned about letting strangers live in the palace?" Zafar asked Kadir.
Kadir shook his head. "Not at all. I've plenty of staff here. I trust them to make sure nothing happens in my absence."
Zafar narrowed his eyes and smiled. "But, you're here practically every day."
Kadir shrugged. "I suppose I am. Well, most days. Not all the time. I like to see how things are going with the excavation."
Zafar frowned. When he'd heard about the discovery of some very ancient ruins at the far northern end of the enclosed garden area, he hadn't thought much about it.
These things happened all the time in Qazhar. Especially these days when everyone seemed so interested in the past. That was something which held no fascination for Zafar.
Not in the slightest. He had enough to be worrying about maintaining his position as a Qazhar royal. And staying unmarried. That was a full time job in itself.
They started making their way up the stairs. "And how are things going?" Zafar asked wearily.
"They've uncovered a spectacular mosaic floor which probably dates back to the fifteen century," Kadir explained.
"Really. How interesting," Zafar drawled.
Zafar saw Kadir glance at him. His friend already knew that archeology wasn't on his list of interests. Well, that wasn't strictly true, Zafar admitted to himself.
There was one aspect of this discovery which intrigued him, and it had nothing to do with mosaic floors. It had everything to do with the American woman who had come to Qazhar only a month ago, and who was closely involved in the whole endeavor.
In fact, the American in question, a certain Miss Lori Reithe, was the assistant to the woman about whom Kadir had become inexplicably infatuated.
Zafar recalled how Lori had slapped his face at the welcome reception a month ago. He could still recall the feel of her palm against his skin, the sharp sting of her warm flesh. The forceful way she'd pushed against his chest, pressing so hard, he'd almost had to take a step backwards. He smiled inwardly as he recalled the incident.
She was strong.
And, the woman was undeniably attractive, Zafar reflected. He had to admit to himself that, on that otherwise boring evening, he'd simply been tempted by her feisty and argumentative nature. Her willingness to challenge him.
He recalled their meeting. They'd spoken a couple of times in the early part of the reception, and then she had been lost in the crowd. He'd tried to find her from time to time, distracted by the tedious conversations about history and culture.
At one point in the evening, he'd been asked by Kadir what he thought of the attractive American newcomer. Zafar, feeling irritable and eager to leave, had felt compelled to express the opinion that there was nothing special about her, and that she was just like so many others of her kind.
Kadir had disagreed, but Zafar had held firm on his opinion.
But, there had been one thing he hadn't found out until much later that evening. The woman was a firebrand, Zafar said to himself. He'd never met a female so willing to defy him, so determined to stand up for what she believed in.
Later in the evening, he'd seen her heading out to the terrace and had followed her. On the terrace, Zafar had teased Lori about the discovery in Kadir's palace garden, and questioned whether the past was something relevant to a modern day, progressive Qazhar.
Zafar had savored the sight of the instant fire in the woman's icy blue eyes.
That had been when she'd begun to show her unruly side. Which had then triggered a surprising reaction in himself. A physical, visceral response. A chain reaction.
There was only one way to describe how she had affected him.
She had triggered a fierce and burning need in Zafar.
He'd felt a sudden desire to claim her, taste her, feel her body pressing against his. It was almost inexplicable. He'd been tempted to make a fool of himself out there on that terrace.
But, it had all come to nothing. And ended with a slap to his face.
Since their confrontation, a day had hardly passed when he hadn't thought about her. Hadn't reflected on the way she'd rejected him. That didn't happen too often.
In fact, it hadn't happened to Zafar in a very long time. He was used to having his way with women. Used to women being compliant, willing, even eager to be with him, to share in his privilege and status. Trying to take some part of him for their own benefit. Over the years he had become tired with that whole charade.
But, there was something fresh and even exhilarating about this new American woman.
At the time, he'd put her rejection of him down to her being a foreigner, unused to the ways of Qazhar. He knew that many American women had married into sheikh families in recent times.
That was something Zafar definitely did not approve of. As far as he was concerned, the Qazhar elite should marry women of their own kingdom. There were already enough foreign wives in Qazhar. There would be no foreign blood in his Qazhar bloodline. There were plenty of forces within his own family to make sure of that.
Kadir and Zafar reached the top of the steps. As they did so, the door opened and out stepped Alaya. She smiled at Kadir, who spared no time in wrapping his arms around Alaya's waist and dipping his head, seeking a
welcoming kiss. But, Alaya leaned away from Kadir, taking a small step back.
Alaya glanced down at herself. "Careful. You might get dirty," she said to Kadir, pointing at her dust stained shirt and jeans.
"And that's a problem?" Kadir teased.
Alaya's filthy clothing didn't deter Kadir. He pulled her close and kissed her briefly.
It took all Zafar's strength to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. This was what it had come to? He could hardly believe it.
Zafar expected to see Alaya's assistant appear from inside the palace, but there was still no sign of the American. Zafar was surprised to sense some disappointment at that.
Kadir and Alaya separated and Alaya glanced at Zafar. "Good afternoon, Prince Zafar," Alaya said with obvious deference and respect in her voice.
Zafar placed a hand across his middle and bowed regally. "It's a pleasure to see you, Alaya," he said.
Alaya lifted a brow. "That's nice to know," she said and then glanced at Kadir.
They all walked inside. As they made their way toward the sitting room, Zafar couldn't help glancing around trying to find the American woman. He wondered why she hadn't come to the door with Alaya. After all, she was Alaya's assistant, and might have been expected to be by Alaya's side.
"How is your work going?" Zafar asked.
Alaya nodded. "Very well, Prince Zafar."
"Please just call me Zafar," he said to Alaya. "The title is just so formal."
Alaya nodded. "Of course."
"Where are all your staff?" Zafar asked.
"They're out at the site," Alaya replied.
"All of them?" Zafar inquired. "I understand you have a young American assistant."
Alaya seemed surprised at Zafar's interest. She lifted a brow. "My assistant, Lori, is around somewhere," she said as they entered the sitting room. Zafar saw Alaya searching the room. "I left her here a minute ago," she said. "I wonder where she's gone to."
Then, Alaya looked out onto the the terrace. "There she is," she exclaimed.
Zafar peered out onto the terrace, through the wide open doors, and saw Lori standing there. She had her back to them, and was resting her hands on the marble balustrade. She appeared to be looking out across the expanse of the garden.
"Lori!" Alaya called out.
And then the woman who had made such an impression on Zafar turned to face them. In spite of himself, despite all his well-practised indifference over the years, Zafar felt himself jolted by the sheer beauty of the American woman.
In the bright sunlight her blonde hair, loose around her shoulders, visibly glistened; her icy blue eyes gazed back into the relative darkness of the room; her broad smile lit up her pretty, even features.
Zafar saw Lori smile, slightly nervously he said to himself. She lifted a hand. "Hi, there," she said tentatively.
Her voice was soft and had an attractive quiver to it. Was she nervous for some reason?
Alaya and Kadir went to the terrace, and Zafar followed.
Up close, Zafar saw that the American woman's jeans and white shirt were as dust covered as Alaya's. They'd obviously both been working right up until the moment he and Kadir had arrived.
"I don't believe you've met Prince Zafar, have you, Lori?" Alaya said.
"Actually I think we have met before," Lori replied. She wiped her hand quickly on her jeans and extended it to Zafar. "At the welcome reception, a month ago," she said.
Zafar glanced down at her hand and then back up into her shimmering blue eyes. "I do recall we did meet, Miss..?"
"Just call me Lori," she said.
Zafar took her hand in his, carefully curling his fingers, enclosing her warm flesh in his own. Her hand felt soft in his own.
Then he did what always came naturally in situations like these. He held her hand firmly, decisively, and lifted it to his mouth. He felt her slight resistance, but he made it clear by the way he kept hold of her hand that he would not allow her to remove her hand from his firm grasp.
Zafar lifted his gaze as his lips brushed the back of Lori's hand. He was pleased to see the effect upon her of his insistent gesture. Her cheeks had flushed red, and he saw her glance quickly toward Alaya and Kadir.
Zafar kissed the back of her hand softly, feeling the delicacy of her skin against his lips. Then, he lifted his head and smiled. "Enchanted, once again, Lori," he said.
She knew he was playing with her. He could see that in the expression of barely suppressed indignation in her eyes. There was that flash again, he told himself. The same one he'd seen a month ago on the terrace.
Then he felt her pull her hand away, and he released it. He felt as if he'd won a small victory. As if he'd laid down a marker for their future encounters. Zafar was suddenly sure there would be more encounters. And he looked forward to them with anticipation.
Before he'd come today, he'd already decided to find out more about the intriguing American. He'd found out from Kadir that Lori Reithe was something of an expert in the antiquities of the region, especially the decorative arts of ancient palaces. So, she had been the perfect choice for this investigation.
Zafar glanced at her. She definitely looked uneasy. He wondered if that was why she had come out here to the terrace. Had she needed to prepare herself for meeting him again?
"We can have some tea, if you like," Alaya said gesturing into the sitting room. "I asked the staff to prepare it once you both arrived."
"I'd rather see how your work is coming along," Kadir replied. He glanced at Zafar. "What do you think, Zafar?"
Zafar tilted his head. "It might be nice," he said with a trace of indolence in his voice. And then added with a glance toward Lori. "If that would be satisfactory," he said looking directly at Lori.
She met his gaze with a steady look of her own. "I didn't think your highness had any interest in such things."
His highness? He was momentarily taken aback by her choice of words. Was she already taunting him?
"Please," he said. "We're already good friends, I believe. It would make me happy if you would call me Zafar."
"Not even Prince?" Lori asked with a lift of one brow.
Now he knew for sure that she was teasing him.
He shook his head slowly. "I think we can dispense with the formalities, don't you, Lori?"
He liked the sound of her name on his lips. And he could tell that simply saying her name in his thick accent and deep voice had made an impression on her.
She paused a moment and narrowed her eyes. He could see she was thinking about what he'd said. Then she made up her mind. "Okay, Zafar," Lori said evenly. "I think I can do that."
Zafar grinned and looked across at Alaya and Kadir. They both seemed to be enjoying the spectacle of the Qazhar Prince and the American sparring with each other.
Kadir narrowed his eyes at Zafar. There was curiosity in his expression.
Perhaps Kadir was asking himself exactly how his obvious familiarity with Lori had come about. But there would be plenty of time to answer such questions much later.
"Let's go," Alaya said gesturing toward the steps which led down into the flat lawn. "Let me tell you a bit about what we've found," she continued.
But, as he walked alongside Lori, all Zafar could think about was that the only questions he had in mind were ones about the beautiful American woman whose skin had tasted so very sweet.
THREE
As they made their way across the lawn, Lori tried to gather her thoughts. How dare he kiss her hand like that! Who did he think he was? Didn't he realize what kind of impression that had made upon Alaya and Kadir? He'd held onto her hand as if they were already the best of friends.
That wasn't how things were between her and the arrogant prince. There was no familiarity between her and Zafar. None at all.
She walked slowly alongside him, and watched as Alaya and Kadir moved a few steps ahead of her and Zafar. Clearly they wanted a few moments to themselves. That left her walking next to the Prince.
F
or a short while there was an awkward silence between them. The only sound was the gentle hiss of the lawn sprinklers and the cheerful birdcalls from the distant trees.
Lori felt the hot sun beating down upon her. Sweat was starting to gather at the back of her neck. Her gaze drifted across to Zafar, but he seemed completely unaffected by the heat. Of course, he wouldn't be, she told herself. For her, this heat was punishing and a complete change from what she was used to back in the States.
The plan was for her to be here in Qazhar for a few more weeks until this project was completed. There had also been a hint that there might be other projects she could work on, but nothing definite.
Lori glanced at Zafar again.
For a moment, she had to admit to herself that he was a stunning example of gorgeous, royal power. He was taller than her by at least a head. She was wearing flat shoes, but still she couldn't help be impressed by Zafar's upright, even regal, demeanor. By the sheer stature of his powerful physique. By the smooth, fluid motion of his body. It had a primal, animal-like quality that caused something visceral to glow deep inside her.
She tried to ignore the sensation. It was the same feeling which had come to life a few weeks ago while she had watched him clearly try to resist the impulse to kiss her.
Back then, she had been shocked by the suddenness of her own reaction to him. Out here, in the garden, in broad daylight it was hardly proving any easier to ignore his effect on her.
She ran her gaze quickly down the length of his body. He was dressed casually in white shirt, dark pants and expensive looking black shoes.
Immaculately attired, she told herself. She couldn't imagine him looking anything else but perfect. But, it wasn't just the clothes he was wearing that made him look like the picture of perfect elegance.
It was the way he held himself. There was a poise about him. He held his shoulders back, his broad chest partly exposed by the tiny, pearl-white, undone buttons at the top of his shirt. His long legs strode powerfully and confidently across the lawn. It was like walking alongside a prowling predator, she thought. She shook her head slightly, trying to rid herself of that notion.
