Gambling With the Crown

by Lynn Raye Harris

  His deception had only been meant to steer his father toward Rashid as the logical choice, but if Rashid did not come, there was no choice. Kyr could not go ungoverned by an al-Hassan. They had been this nation’s leaders for centuries. And Kadir would not allow it to change, though his life would transform so drastically. To walk away now would plunge Kyr into chaos because there was no one else who could lead. No one but the council, and it would fracture as each member tried to put forth his own candidate for the throne.

  No, Kadir would not allow that, though it would mean the end of everything he’d worked for. And the end of his time with Emily.

  Emily. Just thinking of her made him as restless as a caged leopard.

  Quite simply, Kadir was going mad with desire for his fake wife. He’d spent the last few days getting hard at the sight of her. And many nights going to bed frustrated. After that first night, he’d stuck to his side of the pillow wall and she to hers, but it was sheer torture. He lay there willing her to come across the barrier since he’d sworn he wouldn’t do so, but she never did.

  His days were so busy now that he hardly saw her, except at functions they attended together. He was beginning to regret the impulse to dress her in beautiful, fitted clothing. It not only made him physically uncomfortable, but it also made him angry as hell when he caught some other man staring at her.

  Her clothes were fashionable, not at all trashy or—what had she said?—something a hoochie mama would wear. It shamed him that she had thought he wanted such a thing for even a moment.

  The clothing Guido chose for her showcased her figure in ways that had Kadir imagining his hands on her. On the high swells of her breasts, the delicate curve of her waist, the arch of her hips. Hell, even her bare calves, accentuated by the high heels he’d insisted she wear, inflamed him.

  What had he been thinking? He shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly, he had not. Or he’d thought he was made of sterner stuff where she was concerned. Idiot.

  Though it had been only a few minutes since he’d tried to call Rashid, Kadir snatched up his phone and checked his messages, the same as he’d been doing all day.

  Of course there was nothing. If Rashid wanted to punish him, he’d picked the perfect way to do it.

  “Kadir?”

  He turned at the sound of Emily’s voice. She stood in the door to the private courtyard off their suite of rooms, where he had retreated to call Rashid. His blood beat at the sight of her. She was wearing a body-hugging black dress, her breasts wedged firm and high in the bodice, her dark hair loose, his diamonds sparkling at her throat and ears. He glanced at her hand, felt a current of possessiveness wash through him at the sight of his ring on her finger.

  It wasn’t real, he reminded himself. And yet it was the most real thing in his life right now. Emily was the most real thing in his life.

  He tamped down on his wayward desire and leveled her with an even look so she would not sense his turmoil. “Yes, habibti?”

  She twisted her fingers together in front of her. He was learning that Emily contained depths of emotion he’d never suspected. And part of how she kept it in check was with her nervous fidgeting.

  “I was just wondering how you are.”

  He sat and leaned his head back against the soft cushions of the couch that perched on one side of the courtyard. “Well enough. You?”

  She came over and stood nearby, though she did not sit. “I’m all right. The tea with the governing council wives was somewhat awkward.”

  He felt as if he should apologize. But what would be the point? They both knew why she was here. If only Rashid would come, the plan would work perfectly. “I am certain you managed it with aplomb.”

  She blew out a breath. “It wasn’t that bad, truly. A couple of them don’t seem to care for me, but the others…well, some of them are quite nice. They seem to understand how strange this must be for me as an outsider.”

  He looked up and met her soft green gaze. He had asked a lot of her in coming here. And he’d not prepared her nearly well enough. “You must despise me.”

  “No, of course not.”

  He sat forward, his eyes searching hers. “It’s all right. You can admit it.”

  She sighed. “I don’t despise you, Kadir. I actually like some of the people I’ve met. It hasn’t been nearly as bad as I thought it would be. But I hate deceiving them. I’ll be glad when it’s over.” As if she realized what she’d just said, her mouth snapped closed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. For this to be over, your father—”

  He stood and put a finger over her lips, silencing her. Her mouth was soft but he resisted the urge to slide his finger along her lips. Somehow, he resisted. “I understand what you mean. And I share the sentiment.”

  Her eyes were troubled. “I shouldn’t have said it.”

  He tilted his head back and gazed up at the slice of blue sky visible above the walls and minarets. There was no point in hiding the truth from her. “I am going to be king. It’s inevitable.”

  Because Rashid wasn’t coming, their father was slipping in and out of consciousness with more regularity, and the council was growing restless with the uncertainty of the situation. Kadir had to act before the council splintered under the strain.

  He heard her pull in a breath. “Oh, Kadir. I tried to be unsuitable, I really did. But sometimes I’ve just been me, and that clearly hasn’t been enough.”

  Her head was bowed, her hands clenched into fists. He tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him. “You have not failed, Emily. You’ve done a brilliant job.” He ground his teeth in frustration. “It is I who have failed. And it’s time to accept my fate and get on with it.”

  She was looking at him with an admiration he didn’t expect. “You’ll be an excellent king.”

  He wanted to laugh. “You have no reason to think so. You are being kind.”

  Her eyes widened indignantly. “Of course I do! I’ve never seen anyone talk so many people into doing things his way as you have over the last four years. If that’s not a skill a king needs, then I don’t know what is. You’ll be great at it, because you are great at everything else.”

  “I am apparently not great at some things.” When she frowned at him, he wanted to kiss her. But he did not, because he wasn’t certain he could stop at just a kiss. “I am not great at everything, Emily, because you continue to sleep on your side of the bed. If I had my way, you would sleep wrapped around me.”

  A blush spread across her cheeks. “You already know you’re irresistible to women. You don’t need me to prove it yet again.”

  “But I am not irresistible to you.”

  “You’re not my type. Tall, handsome, kingly.” She shook her head. “Oh, no, I like my men short and quiet and willing to be bossed around.”

  “Emily,” he growled, the idea of her having a type—especially a type that wasn’t him—burning a hole in his gut.

  “Stop worrying, Kadir. You’re handsome and remarkable and fabulous. And you’ll be the best king that Kyr has ever had. I just know it.”

  She was being prickly with him, but her praise warmed him deep inside. He didn’t feel as though he was the best at anything right now. Oh, he could build skyscrapers that no one else could, but that wasn’t running a kingdom.

  If his skill at personal relationships was any indication, he was doomed to failure. He had a contentious relationship with his father, an apparently nonexistent one with his brother—and then there was Emily. She was the person who’d worked the closest to him for the longest time. Until just a few days ago, he would have said she did not like him much.

  And now? Now she felt sorry for him. He could hardly bear it.

  “Sit with me,” he said, catching her hand and pulling her down with him. It wasn’t a big settee and she ended up right beside him, her hip crowding against his. Her eyes were wide as she blinked at him.

  He held his arm out, daring her to come into the circle of his embrace. He desp
erately wanted to be close to someone right now. Close to her. He expected her to trot out their agreement, to shoot up off the settee and stammer about an appointment or something. But she didn’t. She folded herself against him as if she always did so, as if it were as natural as breathing, and he closed his eyes on a rough sigh.

  “Thank you,” he said against her hair, and she wrapped one arm tentatively around his waist. A simple touch, and yet he burned deep inside for more. “When my father dies, you will need to remain for the funeral. After that, I will divorce you and you’ll be free to go.”

  Just saying the words sent a chill washing over him. He wasn’t certain if Emily trembled or if it was simply the strength of his emotions making him think so. She’d been a part of his life for long enough that he couldn’t quite imagine it without her. But he was resigned to his fate and he had to let her know what came next for her. For them.

  He would miss her, but in time it would ease.

  “Whatever you think best,” she said, her voice muffled against his robes.

  “I’ll wire the money into your account. And I’ll give you references.”

  Even as he said it, he knew he would give her enough money so she wouldn’t have to work again if she did not want to. She could take her father to Florida and live there with him if she chose. It hadn’t been a part of the plan, but he couldn’t bear to send her back to Chicago with only what they’d agreed upon. He didn’t want her to work for anyone else. He wanted her to do whatever she wanted in life.

  “Thank you,” she said. He thought she sniffed. A moment later, she was pushing herself away from him. Her eyes were watery, though she did not let a single tear fall. “I think I have a headache. I should go inside and rest.”

  He wanted to reach out and trace her cheek with his finger. And then he wanted to do so much more. He kept his hands to himself. “Yes, perhaps you should.”

  She stood and smoothed the dress over her body and he found himself aching to span her hips with his hands, to press his mouth right against her belly. To drag it lower until she screamed his name with passion rather than frustration.

  But he would do none of these things.

  “I’m sorry, Kadir.”

  He looked up into her soft green eyes and had the strangest sensation when he imagined those eyes gone from his life. It was as if a piece of his soul had withered and died.

  “So am I, habibti.”

  *

  Two days later, the king of Kyr died in the middle of the night. His passing was peaceful and quiet, but the aftermath was not. Emily was shaken awake during the dark hours. She was disoriented, groggy, and her eyes felt gritty with the silent tears she’d spilled into her pillow.

  “We must leave, Emily,” a deep voice said, and a current of alarm prickled inside her as she recognized the urgency in Kadir’s tone.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My father has passed.”

  She sat up immediately as the last veil of sleep fell away. “Oh, Kadir, I am so sorry.”

  He stood there, tall and remote, already dressed in his desert robes, and she wondered if he’d even been to bed. The last she recalled, he’d been working on his computer when she’d gone to bed earlier. He’d had trouble sleeping lately and he often stayed up late to work.

  She thought that he also spent time trying to track down his brother, hoping that he would get a last-minute reprieve. But now it was too late. Rashid had not come and their father was dead. Kadir was truly the next king of Kyr.

  “It’s fine,” he said coolly. “I’m fine. But we have to journey to the King’s Oasis. It is required that I spend the next twenty-four hours there, isolated from the court. You are the only one permitted to go with me.”

  “Of course,” she said, throwing back the covers and hurrying to get dressed. She didn’t think it mattered much now, so she donned jeans and tennis shoes. She grabbed a jacket and put it on over her T-shirt because it was cold in the desert at night.

  Within half an hour, they were packed and in a Land Rover. When Kadir said they were going alone, he meant it. There were no servants with them, no caravan of vehicles as they began the journey into the dark desert.

  She didn’t know what to say, so Emily leaned her head against the window and gazed up at the stars. They were so plentiful out here, away from the city lights. A shooting star blazed across her field of vision and she made a quick wish.

  She wished that Kadir would not send her away. A stupid wish, but there it was. She’d realized over the last several days that she cared about him. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. And yet she had to do just that, because he would be a king and she was not needed. Or wanted.

  She gritted her teeth against the fantasy that he might decide to keep her with him. Oh, for goodness’ sake, you’re just as bad as all those other women, wanting what he cannot give.

  Not only that, but she knew she would not be welcomed in Kyr as a permanent part of his life—and certainly not as his queen. While there were people who seemed to like her, even welcome her, the governing council did not. They’d frowned at her and ignored her and clearly did not approve of her. Which was precisely as Kadir had wanted it.

  Truly, if she’d been swathed head to toe in black robes, she still didn’t think they would have liked her. She was too foreign in their eyes, and certainly not good enough for a prince of Kyr. That was the true measure of her unsuitability, not her clothing or her actions or anything else she did or did not do.

  Emily closed her eyes and somehow managed to fall asleep against the bouncing of the vehicle. When Kadir awoke her later, the first rays of dawn were beginning to peek over the horizon. They drove into the oasis and she was surprised to find it wasn’t empty, as she’d thought it might be, but filled with tents and animals. A couple of dark bodies moved between the animals, feeding them.

  Kadir exited the Land Rover and stood beside it. Emily climbed out, her feet landing with a squish in the sand. She walked around to Kadir’s side and stood there as a tall, dignified man in dark robes made his way to them. He was worn and weathered, his face brown and wrinkled with sun and wind. His eyes, however, were dark and glittering as he looked at them both.

  Kadir spoke to the man, and his old eyes drifted closed. Then he sank to his knees and intoned something in Arabic. Kadir reached out and touched his shoulder and the man stood again. Soon, other men appeared and the contents of the Land Rover were whisked into a tent set aside from the rest.

  Kadir turned to her and held out his hand. Emily slipped her hand into his and let him lead her inside the tent. It was opulent, with colorful carpets blanketing the floor and walls. Copper and gold gleamed on tables and in low cabinets. There were cushions spread liberally across the floor for seating, and a separate area that contained a large bed covered in furs.

  The oil lamps were lit and the soft scent of incense wafted to her nose. Someone brought a tray with food and coffee and then disappeared. The man who had greeted them was the last to go and Emily found herself blinking at Kadir and wondering what would happen now. Twenty-four hours in the oasis. For what?

  She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him and hold him tight, but she didn’t dare. Because she didn’t know if she could stop once she did.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

  Kadir spun toward her, his eyes sparking with emotion. “How am I feeling? Trapped.”

  It wasn’t quite what she’d expected. “I don’t know what to say to you, other than I’m sorry.”

  Kadir closed his eyes and tilted his head back. And then he said something she didn’t understand. When he shook his fist at the top of the tent, she assumed it was probably something she didn’t want to hear anyway. He was angry and emotional and she understood that he needed to vent.

  “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” he said suddenly, his gaze hard on hers again. Daring her, maybe.

  “What?”

  “I think I got what I d
eserved.”

  Emily’s heart squeezed at the raw pain in his voice. “I’m not sure I understand you.”

  He shook his head. She didn’t think he would speak, but then suddenly the words tumbled from him. “I am a rotten brother, Emily. And when I tried to make it right again, Rashid did not come. I tried to make sure the throne was his, as it should be, but it no longer matters. My father is dead, Rashid is not here and the council will formally choose me before the world—if my father did not leave a will already proclaiming me heir. He claimed he had not chosen, but I believe he did. I think the old bastard was just manipulating us one last time.”

  Emily tried not to be shocked, but she knew she hadn’t succeeded when one corner of his mouth curled in a hard smile.

  “I failed to tell you what kind of dysfunctional family I have, didn’t I? Well, here it is—my father is dead, and I don’t feel much of anything at the moment but anger. And not for the reasons you would suppose.” He clenched his hands into fists as his side. “He wasn’t a kind man, or a loving man. He was exacting and proud, and though I loved him when I was a child, I grew to fear him. And then I despised him.”

  She couldn’t imagine feeling that way about her father, but her mother was a different story. She’d been angry with her mother for years now.

  “If you mean to shock me, you are doing so. But not for the reasons you suppose.”

  “You aren’t horrified to your sweet little core that I couldn’t stand the man who left me a crown? That his death doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the situation I now find myself in?”

  “I didn’t live your life, Kadir. It’s not my place to decide how you should be feeling right now.”

  He laughed. It was a bitter, angry sound. And then he ripped his headdress off and tossed it on the cushions. “Damn, Emily, I wish we’d been more honest with each other a long time ago.”

  Her heart beat hard. “That’s not the kind of relationship we had.”