The Defiant Princess

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Shock at his own blatant public possession paralysed him for a few seconds. As soon as his hold on her slackened, she bolted. He stood and watched her trim figure make a frantic dive into the privacy of the limousine.

  Only years of public training enabled him to face the paparazzi with dignity. “The union of Turastan and Rhajia is something that King Hassan and King Akram planned many years ago. It’s indeed a blessing that this arrangement between our fathers is something Princess Sabihah and I are able to embrace on both a political and personal level,” he claimed with confidence. “We’re looking forward to our marriage and our years together.”

  Ice-blue daggers shot from her eyes as he entered the limousine. As soon as the door closed behind him, she erupted in anger.

  “Years? Ha!” Her voice was blistering in its outrage. “Our marriage won’t last a month, and there was absolutely no need to kiss me.”

  “There was every need to kiss you.”

  “Why? So the world would buy this marriage as being real and welcome instead of staged and short-lived?”

  “No.” He regarded her steadily, admiring the magnificence of her elemental anger rather than being cowed by it. She was a truly passionate woman. His heartbeat quickened as he thought of all that passion unleashed in his bed.

  “Then what the devil was that all about?”

  Her breasts rose and fell with each agitated breath. They were pure temptation, luring him to reach out and caress them. He clasped his hands together in an effort to restrain himself.

  “That, Princess, was about our mutual need to kiss.”

  Her lips parted, most likely in readiness to deny his claim. But he would have none of that. “The chemistry between us is stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced.”

  “You were more likely worked up after being with the beautiful Dr Namir and you grabbed me because I was the first female available.”

  He felt his eyes narrow. “You insult us both when you speak that way.”

  “Dr Namir’s behaviour was insulting. It would be brazen for a Westerner to act that way, especially to royalty. I can’t believe she did that here in Turastan.”

  “Don’t stereotype the Middle-Eastern nations. This is a very modern country.” He pointed outside to the bustling city where glass buildings reached to the sky and many women were casually clad. “Women are free to adopt Western dress if they choose to do so. Many women receive tertiary education and hold high-ranking positions in corporations and the civil service. Don’t forget that your own country is about to have a female ruler.”

  “Well that woman back there was the epitome of both modern and brazen. She was obviously making a play for you and you did nothing to discourage her.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  “Of course not,” she said, but would not meet his eyes.

  “You behaved as though you were jealous.” He was unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

  Blue eyes flew to his once again. “How? By holding your arm? I thought you expected me to put on a show.”

  “You were very possessive.”

  “As far as the public know, I’m your fiancée. At your insistence, we’re getting married tomorrow instead of waiting until I’m recognized as heir to the Rhajian throne. That woman was disrespectful to me in the way she looked at you, not to mention the way she pawed and spoke to you … Prince Khalid.” She adopted a coy look and did her best to imitate the sultry tones of Dr Namir.

  Her attempt to imitate the doctor made him throw back his head against the plush leather headrest of the limousine and laugh.

  “Don’t laugh at me.” One hand shot forward and she slapped at his leg. “You know I’m right about her. Have you been lovers?”

  Sobering, he sat forward. “Would it bother you if we had?”

  “No!” Her denial came too quickly.

  Her jealousy filled him with satisfaction and that was amazing in itself. The first sign of possessiveness from any of his mistresses had caused him to feel uneasy and he’d ended those relationships immediately. He was pleased she wasn’t indifferent about the possibility of other women in his life.

  “We share a past,” he told her simply, “but it was over between us a long time ago. Her uncle is a high-ranking advisor to my father and they’re close friends. I believe he and my father may have recently discussed the suitability of Aanya as my wife.”

  “No wonder she was hostile.” She crossed one leg and angled her body away from him, then busied herself by smoothing down the fabric of her skirt. It was classic defensive body language.

  “Sabihah, although there have been many women in my life—”

  “And in your bed,” she interjected.

  “The reports by the press have been grossly exaggerated. Still, I don’t mind you being possessive, habiba.”

  She uncrossed her legs and sat straighter. “I’m not possessive and I’m not your darling.”

  “I wouldn’t tolerate another man flirting with you,” he observed with a warning note. “Nor would I tolerate you flirting with another man.”

  “Except that I’m not your fiancée. Not really.”

  He reached out and took her left hand in his to examine her engagement ring. “Make no mistakes, Sabihah. You are my real fiancée. By tomorrow night, you’ll be my real wife.”

  She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “Inaya should be your wife.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Things do not always go according to plan.”

  “So you just make the best of a bad situation? Me being the bad situation?”

  Khalid felt his eyebrows rise as she sought reassurance. She was jealous and uncertain of herself. As his future wife, she had no reason to be. He was captivated by both her beauty and spirit to a degree he’d never experienced. In time, once he’d taken her as his lover, this level of interest in her would no doubt wane. Despite that inevitability, he fully intended to honour his wedding vows. Faithfulness in marriage was part of his duty both to his country and to his brother’s memory. It was also part of his moral code. He may not understand the savage force of his attraction to this princess, but he understood his duty and his conscience.

  “Don’t underestimate yourself, Sabihah. You have a lot to recommend you. You already know I desire you.”

  “Yes. Even when you were planning on marrying Inaya. From what I already know and have read about you, that isn’t much of a compliment.” Her arms crossed across her chest in the perfect picture of huffiness. “You desire just about anyone in a skirt.”

  “That is far from the truth.” He tried to keep a serious expression in the face of her petulance. “I’ve never been attracted to any of the Scotsmen I’ve met.”

  He watched as she seemed to battle the smile which threatened to disrupt the perfect study of condemnation she’d arranged on her features. Iron-clad control won. Her expression remained stony.

  “Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll amend that. You desire anything in a skirt that doesn’t have hairy legs. And just for the record, Scotsmen wear kilts—not skirts.”

  ***

  Sabrina was determined not to bend to his practised charm. He was far too dangerous to her peace of mind. His masculinity held lethal appeal to all her feminine desires.

  Without warning, he reached out and stroked her leg with his palm. Quivers of hot delight ran from where his hand touched right up to the core of her. She jolted and uncrossed her arms as a deep, inner contraction of need shook her.

  “Unlike a Scot, your legs are silky smooth. I’m looking forward to exploring every inch of you with my hands and my mouth.”

  “No.” The word was choked out but her traitorous body stayed still. She did nothing to move away from the contact of his hand as he moved the hem of her skirt up her thigh. It was all she could do not to press into the heat of his palm. Grasping for detachment, she ordered herself not to move her knees apart to offer him greater access.

  “Admit it, Sabihah. You crave my touch.” His
hand slid to the inside of her leg. Long, confident fingers caressed upward, his hand pushing up her skirt even higher. His other hand captured her right hand. “You want me to touch you and you want to reach out and touch me just as badly.”

  Automatic denial made her shake her head but she could only focus on the path of his hand while she perpetuated the lie. She closed her eyes to block the vision but the action only increased the sharp awareness of her other senses.

  His touch caused her to shiver with need. She inhaled deeply in appreciation of his sandalwood cologne. Combined with the pure essence of powerful male, it was a heady blend.

  “Don’t try to deny it, Sabihah. We were both in flames just minutes ago despite the presence of the paparazzi. Now your body is telling me again how much you want me. I feel you trembling. I sense the battle you’re waging as you try to hold yourself stiff when you want to yield to me.”

  His body was close. His marauding fingers reached her bikini line and trailed over the silk of her panties. Her eyes flew open and she cried out as he stopped to linger over and circle the nub of sensitive nerve endings beneath the silk.

  “You’re so ready for me,” he told her. “Even the scent of your arousal betrays your desire.”

  Oh my God. That was just too mortifying.

  She jerked away from him, catapulting to the corner of the limousine. “No!” Her knees snapped together. “As hard as it is for you to believe you’re irresistible to any woman, I don’t want you.”

  “Tomorrow you will be my wife.” He sighed and leaned back against the sumptuous leather seat of the limousine, looking far cooler than she was feeling. “There will be many words tripping from your tongue, but none of them will include the word no.”

  Even from her position of retreat, she attacked. “You are the most egotistical, contemptible, patronising individual I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

  He laughed. “Why can’t you just admit to your desire? We’re both adults. Enough of the outraged virgin act.”

  She felt her chest heave and burn with tumultuous feelings. “For your information, Prince Khalid,” she enunciated very clearly past the hard lump of emotion clogging her throat, “I am both outraged and a virgin.”

  His body straightened. His incredulity was almost laughable. “That can’t be true.”

  “Why?” She glared at him. Her breath came in choppy little bursts as she forced herself to have this intimate conversation with a man she barely knew.

  “Because you’re twenty-five years old—”

  “What does my age have to do with it?” Her voice rose in frustration and her fists clenched. “I didn’t realise there was an age one was required to lose one’s virginity.”

  “—and very desirable.” He gave her an unreadable look before he shook his head. “You can’t expect me to believe no man has ever found you desirable.”

  “Did I say that?” He exasperated her and she wished she’d never started this conversation.

  “Of course you’ve had the opportunity, and your responses to me tell me you’re not indifferent to—”

  “That’s enough and this isn’t a guessing game,” she told him angrily. “I was raised thinking I was going to marry Hazim. I believed that right up until his marriage eighteen months ago.”

  Khalid sat forward, pinning her with a penetrating gaze. It was an effort for her to continue her explanation in the face of his evident disbelief, and she focussed on a point on the floor and forced herself to go on.

  “Long before I even understood what sex was, my mother impressed upon me that I was to save myself for Hazim. Apart from a couple of fairly innocuous kisses, I didn’t even look twice at anyone at university because I believed Hazim was going to be my husband. Since his marriage … well … you’ve seen the country town where I live. There really hasn’t been anyone around who’s interested me.”

  That was it. She didn’t care what he thought or whether he believed her. Her words were the simple truth and if he chose to mock her then he could go to hell.

  He was strangely silent for what seemed to be forever. Sabrina couldn’t bear to look at him. Instead, her gaze moved from the floor and out the window of the limousine. She looked at the security guards who rode their motorbikes with the royal cavalcade without really seeing them.

  “You were saving yourself for my brother.” His voice seemed to come from a long way off.

  “How silly is that?” To her intense embarrassment she felt tears prick at her eyes and heard the waver of emotion in her voice.

  “Not silly, Sabihah. It was … noble of you.”

  “Noble?” She felt an insane wave of hysteria bubble up inside her and fought the urge to laugh manically. Was that pity in his voice? Pity for the poor, forgotten princess who’d languished away in a foreign land waiting for her prince to claim her? Sorrow for the woman whose prince hadn’t even thought of her and had married someone else? Pity for the twenty-five year old virgin?

  “Honourable,” he added.

  Her control frayed and her temper made her shake. “Garbage!” she exploded in frustration as she turned back to him. “It wasn’t honourable or noble. It was bloody-well old-fashioned and plain stupid. It was the result of being brainwashed and believing in what my parents had told me. Just stupid. Stupid. Hazim didn’t even come for me and now I’m supposed to be marrying you.”

  In the act of reaching out to her, Khalid was whipped by her words. Slowly, he lowered his arm to his side.

  “Marrying the spare who now just happens to be the heir.” His voice was harsh and laced with self-mockery. “Too bad you’re not getting the prince of your dreams. You’re getting stuck with the polo prince instead.”

  “The playboy polo prince,” she amended his half-use of the media tag automatically and saw him flinch as if she’d struck him. His features hardened and she knew she’d hit a nerve. She regretted that and tried to soften her words with a little self-mockery. “We’re at completely opposite ends of the spectrum—a playboy prince and a virgin princess. But we’re hardly going to be stuck with each other in what will only be a temporary marriage”. “Listen well, Sabihah,” he told her with fierce, biting power as he shifted to close the distance between them. “When I was given that tag by the media, I had no real royal responsibilities. That all changed once Hazim died. There’s no time for playing now and let me assure you that the burden of my duty could not be borne by a mere boy.”

  “You’ve just had a doctor virtually throw herself at you in the presence of a woman who’s supposed to be your fiancée. She obviously believes in your reputation and you did nothing to set her straight.”

  One hand lifted and he pointed a finger at her as he said. “That’s not true. I declined her invitation to tour with her in private. I made it clear to her that I wasn’t interested in anything she might have in mind.”

  Damn it, he had. Yet pure instinct and self-preservation made her want to cling to a negative image of him. “You made the most of the media presence to kiss me when you knew I couldn’t make a scene,” she scoffed. “That’s what I’d expect from a practised playboy who’s used to getting his own way in everything.”

  Every one of his features was taut. Each word loaded with denial. “Pretending that you aren’t clamouring to be in my arms is getting rather boring.”

  She didn’t bother trying to refute his claim.

  “You won’t convince me you haven’t earned your playboy reputation,” she told him through tight lips.

  “I don’t need to.” He shrugged his shoulders, but there was a serious tone to his voice as he said, “I won’t act like I didn’t play hard or that I wasn’t a man who made the most of opportunities that presented themselves.”

  “Women, you mean!”

  “Circumstances have changed.”

  “You certainly won’t convince me you’ve changed.”

  “Perhaps I haven’t changed. Have you ever stopped to consider that I was merely bored with my life? Qualities I
’ve always possessed now have a reason to surface.”

  His question pulled her up. She felt her jaw slacken. Could it be true? Had the playboy merely been filling his time because he’d had no real role, no real direction?

  “And the serial womanising you’re renowned for?” she demanded.

  “It’s time I settled. It’s the reason I planned to marry.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “Hazim would have ruled Turastan well. I will work just as hard to ensure my country prospers and my people are happy.”

  “And you’re prepared to sacrifice yourself in a temporary marriage of convenience.”

  “I no longer think of our marriage as a sacrifice.”

  She chose to ignore that comment. His behaviour today indicated he planned to break their agreement of a paper-only marriage. He’d threatened as much last night, but she would find the strength from somewhere within her to deny free rein to the passion that pulsed between them.

  “I hope there’s more to you than the media portray, Khalid.” She’d already acknowledged privately that he was a force to be reckoned with and she’d witnessed the deference members of the council had given him, but she wasn’t ready to completely overturn her opinion of him. “The future of Turastan and Rhajia will be in your hands.”

  There was a look of promise in his eyes as he took her hands in his and kissed both the back and palm of each one. “You will also be in my hands, Sabihah. Know this—what I hold, I keep and I protect.”

  Chapter Nine

  For the third time in as many minutes, Sabrina switched her gaze from her maid, Farrah, to the clock on the bedroom dresser. A message had been received more than two hours ago advising Sabrina that Helen had arrived safely at the palace and been taken to her suite. Yet Sabrina’s attempts to see Helen had been stonewalled at each turn. Every request to have Helen brought to her met with the response that her former nanny would appear soon.

  Anxiety clawed in Sabrina’s stomach. “What’s keeping Helen?” She couldn’t keep the frustration from her voice. “I know her. There’s no way she’d take this long to settle in. She’ll be dying to see me and I want her brought here now.”