by Tina Leonard
To be certain of her pure state, she’d undergone a humiliating appointment with the palace physician. The memory still made her wince.
Yet after enjoying the freedom she’d experienced in the United States, she told herself she could be happy in Balahar again. There was much work here still to be done, work only a female could do.
She could serve her country better here than married to Kadar and living on The Desert Rose.
Her eyelashes lowered. She didn’t feel very princesslike to wish she could have had a happily-ever-after in Texas. Nothing in her life would ever make her feel the way she’d felt with Kadar—wanted, for herself.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she slipped her fingers behind a light curtain and peered at the crowd of hundreds gathering outside of the palace. This festival was one of the people’s favorite events of the year. A nonreligious holiday, it was mainly a chance for people of Balahar and Sorajhee alike to mingle on the palace grounds. Tiny lights sparkled all through the trees, lending a magical glow to the balmy night.
She sighed, and let the curtain fall back into place as a knock sounded at the door. “Yes?”
Her father came inside. “You are ready, daughter?”
“I am.”
He held out his arm for her to take, which she did. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Father.” But she couldn’t smile at the compliment.
“You seem…pensive tonight. Are you unhappy to be back at the palace?” he asked, his tone worried.
“No, Father,” she said softly. She thought about the fires that burned on the border between Sorajhee and Balahar and held her head high. “I pray we will all be happy tonight. This festival comes at the best possible time to generate goodwill between the peoples. That is all I am thinking about.”
He patted her hand. “You are more queen than you realize, Serena. I am proud of you.”
Sharif joined them, kissing his sister on the cheek, and the three of them went out to stand on the marble patio overlooking the lawns. Ali Denarif no doubt would soon join them.
And then she would force herself to be the blossoming queen her father believed her to be.
PEOPLE THRONGED the sides of the patio, standing toe-to-toe on the lawns to peer at their king and his children. Serena smiled to herself as her father raised a hand to salute his people. Off to the side, Prince Ali Denarif and a royal entourage marched in and stepped onto the marble near the king. Serena’s breath caught in her throat.
Then her breath nearly died as a hush fell over the people. Rather than the cheering that usually erupted when a royal personage appeared, it was as if they silently voiced their disapproval.
This is all wrong, Serena thought wildly. The people do not want Prince Ali Denarif—and neither do I!
THE UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE that came over the crowd was the spur Cade needed to vault out of hiding and jump the short, marble enclosure, landing neatly in between Serena and Ali Denarif. A gasp went up from the crowd; Ali Denarif’s people drew their decorative swords; Sharif grinned, and Serena’s eyes went wide as she stared at him.
And that, Cade thought, was coming to rescue the princess with a bang—Texas-style. “What do you think about the duds?” he asked.
She eyed his headdress of white gutrah and black-banded agal, and black formal suit with approval. “You look like the sheikh prince I always dreamed of for myself.”
He winked at her. “I am.” Turning, he faced the crowd.
“I am Prince Kadar Coleman-El Jeved,” he announced loudly. “Son of Ibrahim Bin Habib El Jeved, grandson of King Habib Bin Mohammed El Jeved of Sorajhee.” He held up his hand to show the ring with the royal crest of Sorajhee as the citizens erupted with shrieking and clapping. He waved them to silence. “I wish to wed with the Princess Serena, but so does Prince Ali Denarif. I throw myself on the mercy of the people to accept me as part of their family. I ask this most humbly, because I love Princess Serena, and I believe she loves me.”
Clapping, chanting and crying rent the air, and flowers were thrown onto the marble. Ali Denarif kicked away the flowers that landed nearest him.
“You cannot do this,” he told Kadar. “You are an imposter who has the king under his spell. Everyone knows the princes of El Jeved died in childhood.”
“Actually, every one of us lives,” Cade said quietly, his voice tinged with warning. “Do not use that tone with me again,” he commanded.
Ali Denarif stiffened but said not another word.
“Kadar,” Princess Serena said, her fingers lightly touching the ends of his headdress. “What are you doing?”
“I am begging the people to allow me to keep the woman I love,” he said huskily. The cheering and chanting grew louder as the crowd realized something special was happening. They remembered Ibrahim, and they felt it an honor to welcome home a favored son from the dead, a miracle no one imagined to witness. “I am asking you to keep me, Serena. Stay with me. Be my wife. Bear my princes and princesses. Most of all, love me.”
She twined her fingers into his as they gazed into each other’s eyes. The people clapped, stomping the ground to show their approval, and neither she nor Kadar noticed that Ali Denarif left in disgust, nor that her father nodded his happy benediction of their love.
“Yes,” Serena said, her voice holding all the joy he wanted to hear her speak. “I will love you, and marry you, and hopefully, one day bear children as wise and brave as their father.”
It might not have been tradition, but Kadar had handled all the royal details he could for one night. He had his wife in his arms for good and he kissed her long and gratefully, a man who suddenly knew exactly what it felt like to win the woman of his dreams.
Epilogue
“At last I have you exactly where I want you,” Serena teased her prince as they lay in each other’s arms in the marriage bed. Beneath hanging velvet swags and enclosed by curtains, they’d made love, falling in love with each other a little more with this new bonding between them.
“At last I have you exactly where I want you,” Cade echoed, rolling over so that he could kiss Serena. “I’ve dreamed of this for so long I feel I’m living an Arabian tale.”
Serena laughed softly. “I thought perhaps you never spent a night sleepless for desiring me.”
“Oh, I spent those,” he said with a growl, nipping at her neck. “And days, too.”
“That’s all over now, my husband proper.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
“No,” he said, before his lips closed over hers, “the honeymoon begins right now—and whether we’re in Texas or Balahar, it never ends.”
IN TEXAS, happy tears jumped into Rose’s eyes as she saw the television replay the moment her son raised his hand high to reveal the royal crest, saw the highly unorthodox kiss her son laid on his princess. With gratitude, she heard the people cheer, saw the smile on King Zak’s face.
She’d cried out so loudly upon seeing Cade on TV that everyone in the kitchen had run into the room to see what was happening. Alex high-fived Mac, and Jessica grinned.
“Well, Mac,” Jessica said, “I guess that ended with the right prince getting the right woman after all.”
Mac raised a brow at his cousin. “I said in the beginning that I wasn’t getting married, didn’t I? I’m always right.”
Jessica smirked at her cousin. “You won’t always be such a renegade,” she warned, her grin knowing. “Two princes down…it’s turning into a real wedding rodeo around here.”
She sighed with dramatic abandon, and the men in the room rolled their eyes. Ignoring their teasing, she perked up, all thoughts of weddings leaving her mind. “By the way, did I tell you all that my friend, Abbie, is staying with us for the summer? She says she’s got something important to tell me—and I can’t wait to hear!”
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Tina Leonard for her contribution to the Texas Sheikhs series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5849-9
HIS ARRANGED MARRIAGE
Copyright © 2001 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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