by Tina Leonard
“Rena!” King Zak murmured with some surprise. “You are more American than you think. Your father’s bloodline left his mark on you in more ways than one.”
“I have grown up in Balahar. I could never be American. The idea of marrying a cowboy makes me—” She faltered at the distressed look on her adopted father’s face. “I will do it,” she murmured. Slowly she moved forward to kiss the king on the cheek. “Please pardon my unforgivable loss of composure. I know you are doing the best thing.”
“You do understand?” King Zak asked with relief.
“I do. If I were ruler and had the choices set out before me that you do, I would choose no differently. I, too, love Balahar and its people.”
“Ah, Rena,” the king sighed, placing her soft hand against his face. “You have been the daughter to me that Queen Nadirah and I prayed for and were never granted. Thank you, my daughter. I promise you this will all work out for the best.”
Serena closed her eyes as she stroked her father’s cheek. If she was lucky, the cowboy prince wouldn’t be brash and mean, a J.R. Ewing looking to take over the Middle East with this marriage. There was much to gain for her would-be suitor, and much for her to lose. Her freedom. Her pride. Her dream of falling in love with a prince of her own. She might not have been Al Farid by birth, but she had grown to love the country. A prince of the Middle East had been her most fervent hope.
Prince Makin would come to meet with her. She would accept his suit. They would agree to a royal match that would benefit everyone and the countries involved, and most especially the father she loved more than anything But she would never, ever love Prince Makin. That was something no one could ask of her.
Her heart was her most closely guarded treasure, and it would never belong to a pretender.
Chapter Two
“I hear rumors that the Princess Serena may be marrying,” Queen Layla whispered into her husband’s ear.
“Whom would she marry? There are few princes available who would suit Al Farid’s daughter.” Azzam chuckled and got up from the bed. “Why not a marriage for his son, Sharif?”
“Sharif is young and hotheaded, while Serena, though young, is more amenable to her father’s wishes. Or perhaps Zakariyya Al Farid is hoping that this more minor marriage of his daughter will build the people’s faith in his rule and give him more time to make a truly advantageous match for Crown Prince Sharif, one that befits a future king—should Zakariyya decide to give the ruling family throne to a foundling child rather than unite with you.”
The last words came out on a near snarl that Layla managed to temper at the last second. She rose up on her side, trying to recapture her husband’s full attention with the alluring pose. “Possibly you should have a word with the king, in order to assist him with the proper choice for his princess. I am certain he would appreciate your counsel.”
Azzam glanced back to Layla, his attention captured by her words and not her pose. “Are you suggesting that the adopted daughter of the king could present a threat to my rule of my own Sorajhee throne? Power doesn’t come through princesses.”
Layla uncomfortably thought about Rose Coleman and the four boys she’d delivered. Why couldn’t Layla have been so blessed by Allah? Moreover, why couldn’t Layla have won Ibrahim in the first place, rather than Rose winning his heart? All the years of secrecy, pain and betrayal had begun in the moment the American Rose had stolen Ibrahim’s heart. If he had chosen Layla, she would have had the sons, the heirs to the Sorajhee throne.
All she’d gained in the years since she’d had Ibrahim assassinated and Rose incarcerated in the asylum was fading looks and declining power in the region. Even if she had the Balahar ruler assassinated, there was a crown prince. And Serena, and a possible new marriage to an El Jeved prince, according to her palace spy. There were many problems that stood in her way.
Particularly if the Coleman-El Jeved princes ever came to press their right to the throne.
She glanced at her husband as a maidservant assisted him with his robes. He wasn’t the young, vibrant male she’d married with great hopes. Sometimes she thought he was content to allow King Zakariyya Al Farid to rule both Balahar and Sorajhee. How could he be so complacent! Being number two had never sat well with Layla.
And now the new information of a rumored marriage for Serena Al Farid. The girl was of age. A marriage was not what bothered Layla. King Zak had not bothered to discuss the union with Azzam, a fact of importance that seemed to escape her husband. The secrecy and planning of the marriage meant that evermore the Balahar throne slipped further from Azzam, leaving him with only the smaller country of Sorajhee.
Layla sighed. Once again she would have to assist her husband. Behind the scenes, as always, a fact which galled her. Surely she had not erred by stealing Rose Coleman’s youngest son and secretly giving him to King Zak and the now-deceased Queen Nadirah—as a seeming gesture of caring—to raise? This irony unsettled her. Until she realized that King Zak could be planning to marry off his daughter without consulting Azzam, she had not thought her husband’s position as supreme ruler was in jeopardy. But with the queen dead and Zak unwilling to seek solace amongst his harem, possibly he was feeling all his powers waning from him and was setting out to shape the new destiny of the country—without consulting the rightful king.
Azzam should be king of both countries, and she should be queen, set far above the petty scurrying she was forever forced to do to maintain their importance in the Balahar-Sorajhee union.
One day, Layla vowed, she would be queen, with subjects who adored only her.
IF THERE WAS ONE THING that occupied Mac’s mind more than what Cade was attempting on his behalf, it was the unfinished business he’d left behind the night of his cousin Jessica’s graduation. What had he been thinking by spending a night with one of his cousin’s friends?
But the lady he’d met had been so pretty. She was gentle and quiet, with brown hair like a baby deer and eyes so blue he felt he could see Texas heaven in them. Cade had been right: Mac did take life seriously. He didn’t sleep around, and he didn’t treat women like interchangeable dates.
Something had happened to him when he’d met the woman the night Jessica graduated. Sizzle hotter than fire and electricity more powerful than a horse’s kick had jump-started him into believing that maybe there was a woman out there for him, a sweet woman who was as different from his ex-fiancée as he could possibly find.
And then she’d been gone. Before he’d had a chance to know everything about her that he desperately wanted to know, the girl he’d known for only a stolen interlude of lovemaking had vanished with the dawn.
He should be happy. No promises, no strings.
But a spark had touched his heart when he least expected it, and when his mother had mentioned him marrying a princess, he’d felt his heart open a none-too-healed wound.
With this new worry that his mother was intent upon securing a royal match for him—and knowing that the time Cade was buying for him was all too short—Mac needed to do something he had steadfastly avoided doing.
He had to try to get Jessica to reveal the name of her friend without her figuring out what he was up to. This would be no easy accomplishment. Jessica was smart and quick and merciless with teasing where her cousins were concerned, a payback for all the years they’d lovingly teased her about the two-colored eyes she possessed. If she thought a woman was on his mind, Jessica would ferret out who, what, when and where.
That could be a disaster. Knowing Jessica, she’d probably conjure up the dream girl for him. Which didn’t seem quite fair, since he wasn’t positive the girl would want to see him. They had, after all, rendered a tacit agreement between them to let the night of pleasure be enough for both of them.
He was not a man to go back on his word, spoken or unspoken.
But he had no choice. Jessica was the only one who held the information he needed.
Going to the stables, he found her grooming the stallion Jabbar.
Older, but still a handsome Arabian, Jabbar tolerated very few people near him. Jessica and Jabbar seemed to have an understanding about how much grooming a male could tolerate. Jabbar certainly didn’t mind her light touch.
Of course, Jabbar didn’t have to put up with anything but gentle coaxing and praise from Jessica. Mac, on the other hand, was of no mind to be on the teasing side of her tongue.
“Jess,” he said quietly, so that he wouldn’t startle her or the stallion.
“Hey, Mac.” She sent a smile his way but continued single-mindedly with her task.
Maybe this was the best time to quiz her, when her attention was fully engaged elsewhere, Mac decided on a hopeful note. “I was looking at some pictures from your graduation today.”
She smiled but didn’t look up. “Were you?”
“Yeah.” He scratched at his chin. “I was surprised you graduated so high in your class.”
A snort greeted his words. “I was surprised that you graduated at all.”
He smiled. This light banter covered his deeper mission. “I was somewhat amazed you had so many friends. Obviously they got to see a side of you we never do.”
“Shut up, cousin. I reserve my best side for you.”
“Ahem.” Nonchalantly he peered into another stall before glancing at Jess’s stoic face. “Wondered if you were planning on having any of your friends out to the ranch. If you’re missing your buddies, you know you’re welcome.”
She shook her head. “I’m going on a girl’s-only trip with a bunch of them soon. One of them is getting married, so we’re going to have a bachelorette vacation. If everybody’s going to start getting married, this may be the last time we can all get together like this.”
His heart fell into his boots. “Really? Who’s going down the aisle?”
A curious glance came his way. “Why are you asking?”
He shrugged.
She raised a brow. “I don’t think you’d know her.”
“I might.” I might know her better than you think.
Turning back to inspect Jabbar’s coat, she said, “Susie Anderson.”
No. He had not made love with a Susie, he’d be willing to bet. His heart lifted. “Your friends all seemed real nice. The ones I got to meet at graduation anyway.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
This was definitely a dead end. He couldn’t come right out and ask her about some girl and give her a description without her figuring out why he was asking.
“Aunt Rose mentioned that you’re probably going to be taking a little trip of your own soon,” Jessica said, glancing at him with a saucy smile. “A honeymoon maybe.”
He stared at her, his eyes wide with shock at hearing her speak what he didn’t want to think about. There was no way he could ask Jess about one of her girlfriends when he was as good as promised to another woman.
“Maybe,” was all he said as he fled the stable.
ROSE DIDN’T BELIEVE for one minute that her sons intended to fall in willingly with an arranged marriage. Prince Makin had been shocked and might have gone along with it, but yesterday Prince Kadar had possessed a mischievous glint in his eyes that spelled a rocky road ahead for the plan. She smiled to herself. Kadar would require a much defter hand when it came time to plan his engagement. If only he knew how much an Arabian prince he truly was! His wife would be hard-pressed to keep him out of the harem.
Of course, Ibrahim had been much like Kadar in his appreciation of women—until he’d met her. Perhaps it was simply finding the one woman of Kadar’s heart for him to be captured completely.
It had not escaped her notice that Makin was more reticent than ever when it came to dating, even stating once that he would never marry. That’s why she’d thought that he was best suited for an arranged match with Serena Al Farid—notwithstanding the fact that he was the son second in line in the ascension.
How much she would like her sons to regain their rightful place! Pulling this marriage off before Azzam discovered it would be fortunate beyond words. Her princes deserved their father’s heritage.
She hadn’t counted on Kadar’s very definite opposition to his twin’s engagement. Perhaps in time he would come to see that Makin, with his avowed dislike of dating, could best benefit by this arrangement. It would not require his heart to be involved, which might suit Makin just fine.
Perhaps she needed to explain her thoughts to Kadar. Having him understand that she hadn’t coldly arranged this match out of a desire for power could be the key. She went in search of him in his quarters.
Kadar’s room was empty. Rose turned, meeting Ella in the hallway.
“Have you seen Cade?” Rose asked the housekeeper.
Ella gave her a strange look. “He left for Saudi Arabia this afternoon, remember?”
How could she have forgotten! This marriage weighed so heavily on her mind. “I had forgotten. Thank you for reminding me.”
It didn’t matter. She could talk to him when he returned from his business trip. A few days wouldn’t make any difference, and would give her time to work on Makin.
“Ella,” Rose said suddenly, turning to call after her. “Do you happen to know if Mac is in the house?”
“He went to look at some foals up in the Panhandle. Didn’t he tell you? He said he was going to.” Now Ella’s expression was perplexed.
Rose shook her head before she could give away her own surprise. It wasn’t like Makin to disappear like that! Perhaps her suggestion of an arranged marriage had rattled him more than he wanted to admit.
Then again, a few days to himself to digest the startling suggestion she’d put forth might be the best thing.
For just a moment, Rose wondered if Kadar was up to something. It was strange that both men were gone at once.
Then she shrugged it off. Kadar and Makin were grown men. They wouldn’t do anything rash.
CADE WAS ASTONISHED when his plane was met by a respectful retinue of men dressed in long robes and head ornamentation. Though he was wearing jeans and boots, he went through the traditional Arabian greetings.
“Welcome, Prince Makin,” one serious-looking official said to him.
Cade started. “I—” He swallowed. This was the time to come clean, to say that he was not the prince they thought. “I am happy to be here,” he said. All he’d done was place a call to the king’s adviser to let him know he’d dash by for a quick meeting with the ruler before he went on his travels. He hadn’t expected the royal treatment!
“The king awaits your arrival,” a taller man said, pointing Cade toward a black Mercedes limo.
Cade got in. I’m doing this for my brother. I can handle lunch with the king. It’s not an afternoon of business golf or anything. It’s lunch, a little schmoozing, hopefully a sneak peek at the princess, and I’m outta here.
His stomach tightened as the five stern-looking officials fitted themselves into the limo around him. It was clear that this was a mission of utmost dignity for them. The bulletproof windows were meaningful evidence that everything about this mission was important. His brother would not have enjoyed this grave treatment at all.
Any princess that lives with this bunch of stiffs guarding her is probably going to be a pain in the rump, he told himself.
I’m doing the right thing for Mac.
PRINCESS SERENA Wilson-Al Farid allowed her maidservants to dress her in silence. To her surprise, Serena had learned that her intended groom was already on the way from the airport to meet her. Apparently he was more eager than she for the match. In one way, it was a compliment to her.
In another way, it had to mean that Prince Makin was very interested in solidifying his position within the royal family and possibly securing a future throne for himself. This was the most likely scenario, and Serena had to admit she didn’t much like the sensation that she was merely a marital chip to one man’s ambition.
And yet that was the reality of her situation.
“You are beautiful, Princess,” she was du
ly informed.
It wouldn’t matter if she were as ugly as intrigue, but she nodded in thanks for the compliment.
The ladies bowed their heads to her respectfully as they filed from the room. Serena glanced down at the shimmering cloth that had been skillfully draped to cover her and yet reveal her feminine charms and beauty. Amethyst with gold adornment highlighted her hair and the depth of her eyes.
It was all rather wasted on an American cowboy.
She could only pray that Prince Makin was kind, that he was at least handsome enough that she could stand to look at him in the light of day, and that he wasn’t overly impressed with himself. Americans tended to think highly of themselves. Men in general were that way.
If he was a man who thought he was going to ride in and carry her off on his Arabian stallion, Serena thought she would have to really bite down hard to keep her dismay in check.
She would know in less than thirty minutes.
In the hallway outside, the sound of maids scurrying with excitement caught her attention. That meant the arrival of the prince.
Serena closed her eyes to compose herself and waited for her maids to fetch her.
The door flew open.
“He’s here! The prince has arrived!” her ladies announced with glee.
Serena stared at them. “And the palace gossip says he is…?” she prompted.
They looked back at her uneasily.
“Out with it,” she told them. “Prepare me for the worst.”
“Tall,” was the first response.
“Loud,” was the second.
“Not dressed appropriately,” was the third. “Not like a prince.”
Serena’s eyebrows rose.
