SEDUCING HIS PRINCESS

by Olivia Gates

  “You did no such thing.” Denial rasped out of him. He shook his head, as if to snap out of the nightmare. “Is this why you kept putting off telling anyone about us? Not because you were afraid our families’ feud would impact our relationship, but because you were having second thoughts?”

  “I’m not just having second thoughts. I’m certain I don’t want to get married.”

  That was it? A case of commitment phobia? That was something he could deal with.

  He drew a breath of relief into his tight chest. “I can understand your wariness. You struggled for your independence. You might think you’d lose it with marriage. But I’ll never encroach on your freedoms....” At her baleful glance, he insisted, “Whatever my transgressions, they were unintended. Guide me in navigating your comfort zones and I’ll always abide by them. If I pushed you into a commitment too soon, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

  “I’ll never be ready to marry you.”

  He stared at her, beyond shocked, the ferocity of her rejection an ax cleaving into his heart.

  Just yesterday, he’d thought everything was perfect between them. And she’d had all this resentment seething inside her? How had he been so oblivious?

  This led him to the only possible explanation. A dreadful one. “Have you received a better offer?”

  At his rough whisper, she turned away again. He wanted to pounce on her, to roar that she couldn’t do this to him, to them. He remained paralyzed, sick electricity arcing in his clenched fists, jumbling his heart’s rhythm.

  He forced more mutilating deductions from numb lips. “Since this is coming right after you visited Najeeb, I assume he finally popped the question.”

  She bent to pick up her laptop, as if she’d already dismissed him from her life. Heartache morphed into fury, all his early, long-forgotten suspicions about the nature of her relationship with Najeeb crashed into his mind.

  “That’s why you wheedled into his life, isn’t it? But then he left, and you thought he wouldn’t come through, and you were...what? Keeping me as plan B in case he didn’t propose? And now you got the offer you were after all along, the one where you become a future queen, and I’m suddenly redundant?”

  She turned the eyes of a total stranger to him. “I’d hoped we could part on civil terms.”

  “Civil?” His growl sounded like a wounded beast’s. “You expect me to stand aside and let you marry my cousin?”

  “I expect you to know you have no say in what I do.”

  And he went mad with pain and rage. “You can’t just toss me aside and hook up with him. In fact, you can forget it. Najeeb will withdraw his offer as soon as I tell him how I made you...ineligible to be his princess. Regularly, hard and long, for five months. That I even took you after you said yes to him.”

  Her eyes filled with something he’d never dreamed he’d see in them. Loathing. “And I expected you to take my decision like a gentleman. But I’m glad you showed me how vicious and dishonorable you can be when you’re thwarted. Now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was right to end this.”

  His blood congealed as she turned away. “You really think you can end it...just like that?”

  Hearing his butchered growl, she turned at the door. “Yes. And I hope you won’t make it uglier than it has already become.”

  His feet dragged under the weight of his heart as he approached her. “B’Ellahi...you loved me.... You said so.... I felt it.”

  “Whatever I said, whatever you think you felt, it’s over. I never want to see you again.”

  He caught her, the feel of her intensifying his desperation. “You might think you mean it now, but you’re mine, Jala. And no matter how long it takes, I swear to you, I will reclaim you. I will make you beg to be mine again.”

  “I was never yours. If you think you have a claim on me, I will repay you for saving my life one day. But not with my life.”

  His fingers sank into her shoulders, as if it would stop her from vanishing. “I don’t care who Najeeb is. I’ll destroy him before I let him have you. I’ll destroy anyone who comes near you.”

  The disdain in her eyes rose. Everything he said sent her another step beyond retrieval.

  “So now I know why you’re called Al Moddammer.” The Destroyer. The label he’d earned when he’d decimated conspiracies and terrorist organizations. “You annihilate anyone who becomes an obstacle to your objectives. Not to mention anyone who comes close to you.”

  His heart seized painfully. He’d never thought she’d ever use that knowledge against him. What else had he been wrong about?

  Her disgust as she severed his convulsive grip told him this was it. It was over. Worse still, it might never have been real. Everything they’d shared, everything he’d thought they’d meant to each other might have all been in his mind.

  Before she receded out of his life, she murmured, “Find yourself someone else who might have a death wish. Because I don’t.”

  One

  Present day...

  “Do you have a death wish?”

  Mohab almost laughed out loud. A bitterly amused huff did escape him as he rose to his feet to meet the king of Judar.

  What were the odds? That these exact words would be the first thing Kamal Aal Masood said to him when they’d been the last thing the man’s kid sister had flung at Mohab?

  Guess it was true what was said about Kamal and Jala. That the two youngest in the Aal Masood sibling quartet could have been identical twins—if they hadn’t been born male and female and twelve years apart. Their resemblance was uncanny.

  With the historical enmity between their kingdoms, Mohab had only seen Kamal from afar. He’d last beheld him at the time of his joloos—as he’d sat on the throne, five and a half years ago. Not that Mohab had manipulated his way into Judar that night to see him. Jala had been his only objective. But she hadn’t attended her own brother’s wedding. Yet another thing he’d failed to predict where she was concerned.

  Something else he’d failed to predict was how it would feel seeing this guy up close. Kamal looked so much like Jala, it...ached deep in his chest.

  It was as if someone had taken Jala and turned her into an older, intimidating male version of herself. They shared the same wealth of raven hair, the same whiskey-colored eyes and the same bone structure. The only differences were those of gender. Kamal’s bronze complexion was shades darker than Jala’s golden flawlessness, and at six foot six, the king of Judar would tower over his sister’s statuesque five-nine, just as he once had. Her big brother was also more than double her size, but they shared the same feline grace and perfect proportions. While all that made her the embodiment of a fairy-tale princess, Kamal was the epitome of a hardened desert raider, exuding limitless power. And exercising it, too.

  At forty, Kamal was one of the most influential individuals in the world, and had been so even before his two older brothers had abdicated the throne of Judar to him in a chain reaction of court drama and royal family scandals that still rocked the region and changed its course forever.

  Now Kamal’s lupine eyes simmered with the trademark menace famous for intimidating anyone he seared with his gaze. “Anything you find particularly amusing, Aal Ghaanem?”

  “Your opening remark revived a memory of another...person mentioning death wishes.” At Kamal’s fierce glower, Mohab’s smile spread. “What? You think I find you, or being escorted here like a prisoner of war, amusing?”

  He’d expected worse arriving in Judar, with tensions between Saraya and Judar at a historic high. In fact, just yesterday, his king had all but declared war on Judar during a global broadcast from a UN summit. For Mohab, a prince of Saraya second in rank only to the king and his heirs, to land uninvited on Judarian soil in these fraught times was cause for extreme concern. Especially when said prince also happened to
be the former head of Saraya’s secret service. He’d expected to be put on the first flight out of Judar. Or even to be taken into custody.

  In a preemptive bluff, he’d asserted he had time-sensitive business with King Kamal and the king would punish whoever detained him. That sent border security officials at the airport scrambling for orders from the royal palace. Mohab had half expected his gamble to fall through, that Kamal would have him kicked out of the kingdom. But within minutes, a dozen of Judar’s finest secret-service men had descended on Mohab, breathing down his neck all the way here.

  Apparently they considered him that dangerous. He was flattered, really.

  “So you find death wishes a source of amusement? A daredevil by nature, not only by trade, eh? Figures. But aren’t you also supposed to be meticulous and prudent? I thought that’s why you’re still in one piece after all the crazy stunts you’ve pulled. Isn’t it the first thing you’re taught when you’re hatched in Saraya—that Judar doesn’t sustain life for your species?”

  His species. The Aal Ghaanems. The Aal Masoods’ mortal enemies. Aih. There was that stumbling block, too.

  “So again...do you have a death wish? Don’t you know that, now more than ever, a high-profile Sarayan like you at large in Judar could have been targeted for any level of retribution?”

  Mohab flattened a palm over his heart. “I’m touched you’re concerned about keeping me in one piece. But I assure you, I behaved in an exemplary fashion, antagonizing no one.”

  “No one but me. Arriving unannounced, terrorizing my subjects, forcing me to drop everything to investigate your incursion. Is this your king’s last hope now that he’s put his foot in his mouth on global feed? Is he afraid I’ll finally knock him off his throne, as I should have long ago? Has he sent his wild card to deal with the crisis...at the root?”

  “You think I’m here to...what? Assassinate you?” A huff of incredulity burst from Mohab. “I may be into impossible missions, but I’m not fond of suicidal ones. And I was almost strip-searched for anything that could even make you sneeze.”

  Kamal’s laserlike gaze contemplated Mohab’s mocking grin. “From my reports, you can probably take out my royal guard stripped and with both hands tied behind your back.”

  “Ah, you flatter me, King Kamal. I’d need one hand to go through them all.”

  The other man’s steady gaze told him Kamal believed Mohab was capable of just that—and more—and wasn’t the least bit fooled by his joking tone. “I have records of some true mission-impossible scenarios that you’ve pulled off. If anyone can enter a maximum-security palace with only the clothes on his back and manage to blow it up and walk away without a scratch, it’s you.”

  Mohab’s lips twitched. “If you believe I can get away with your murder, why did you agree to see me?”

  “Because I’m intrigued.”

  “Enough to risk letting such a lethal entity within reach? You must be bored out of your mind being king.”

  Kamal exhaled. “You don’t know the half of it—or how good you have it. A prince who is in no danger of finding himself on a throne, a black-ops professional who had the luxury of switching to a freelance career...emphasis on the ‘free’ part.”

  “While you’re the king of a minor kingdom you’ve made into a major one, and a revered leader who has limitless power at his fingertips and the most amazing family a man can dream of having.”

  “Apart from my incomparable wife and children, I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat.”

  Mohab laughed out loud. “The last thing I expected coming here is that I’d be standing with you, in the heart of Aal Masood territory, with us envying each other.”

  “In a better world, I would have offered you anything to have your skills at my disposal and you at my side. Too bad we’re on opposite sides with no way to bridge the divide.”

  Mohab pounced on the opening. “That’s why I’m here. To offer not only to bridge that divide, but to obliterate it.”

  Kamal frowned. “You deal in extractions, containments and cleanups. Why send you to offer political solutions?”

  “I’m here on my own initiative because I’m the solution.”

  His declaration was met by an empty stare.

  Then Kamal drawled, “Strange. You seem quite solid.” Mohab chuckled at Kamal’s unexpected dry-as-tinder wit, drawing a rumble from Kamal. “I have zero tolerance for wastes of time. If you prove to be one, you will spend a few nights as an honored guest in my personal dungeon.”

  “Is this a way to talk to the man who can give you Jareer?”

  Kamal clamped his arm. “Kaffa monawaraat wa ghomood...enough evasions and ambiguity. Explain, and fast, or...”

  “Put down your threats. I am here to mend our kingdoms’ relations, and there’s nothing I want more than to accomplish that as fast as possible.”

  “Zain. You have ten minutes.”

  “Twenty.” Before Kamal blasted him, Mohab preempted him. “Don’t say fifteen.”

  Kamal’s gaze lengthened. “As an only child you missed out on having an older sibling kick your ass in your formative years. I’m close to rectifying your deficiency.”

  Mohab grinned. “Think you can take me on, King Kamal?”

  “Definitely.”

  And Mohab believed it. Kamal wasn’t a pampered royal depending on others’ service and protection. This man was a warrior first and foremost. That he’d chosen to fight in the boardroom and now in the world’s political arenas didn’t mean he wouldn’t be as effective on an actual battlefield.

  Before Mohab made a rejoinder, the king turned and crossed his expansive stateroom to the sitting area. Mohab suspected it was to hide a smile so as not to acknowledge this affinity that had sprung up between them.

  Kamal resumed speaking as soon as Mohab took a seat across from him. “So why do you think you can give me Jareer...when I already have it, Sheikh Prince Solution?”

  A laugh burst out of Mohab’s depths. That clinched it. He didn’t care that other people thought Kamal scary or boorish. To him, the guy was just plain rocking fun.

  Kamal’s lips twisted in response, but didn’t lift.

  “There is no law prohibiting an Aal Masood from smiling at an Aal Ghaanem, you know.”

  Kamal’s lips pursed instead. “I may issue one prohibiting just that. The way you’re going, you might end up making the dispute between Judar and Saraya even more...insoluble.”

  Mohab sighed. “So...Jareer, euphemistically referred to as our kingdoms’ contested region...”

  “And currently known as our kingdoms’ future war zone,” Kamal finished.

  Not if Mohab managed to resolve this.

  Jareer used to be under Saraya’s rule. But the past few Sarayan monarchs had had no foresight. They’d centralized everything, neglecting then abandoning outlying regions. Jareer, on the border with Judar, had always been considered useless, because it lacked resources, and traitorous, because its citizens were akin to “enemy sympathizers.” So when Judar had laid claim to Jareer, with its people’s welcome, Mohab’s grandfather, King Othman, had considered it good riddance.

  But when Mohab’s uncle, King Hassan, sat on Saraya’s throne, he’d reignited old conflicts with Judar. His favorite crusade had been reclaiming Jareer. Not because he’d suspected its future importance, but to spite the region’s inhabitants—and because he wanted more reasons to fight the Aal Masoods.

  Then, two months ago, oil had been discovered in Jareer. Now the situation had evolved from an idle conflict between two monarchs to a struggle over limitless wealth and power. In a war between the two kingdoms, Saraya would be decimated for generations to come.

  Only Mohab had the power to stop this catastrophe. Theoretically. There was still the possibility that Kamal would hear his proposition and reward his audacit
y by throwing him in that personal dungeon before wiping Saraya off the face of the earth.

  One thing made Mohab hope this wouldn’t happen. Kamal himself. He was convinced that, though Kamal had every reason to crush Saraya, he would rather not. He hadn’t become one of the greatest kings by being reactionary—or by achieving prosperity for his kingdom at the cost of another kingdom’s destruction.

  At least, Mohab hoped he was right. He had read Kamal’s “twin” all wrong once before after all....

  “I will be disappointed if, after all this staring at me, you can’t draw me from memory.”

  Jarred out of his thoughts by Kamal’s drawl, Mohab blinked at him. “You just remind me of someone so much, it keeps sidetracking me.”

  “The same someone who made the death wish comment, eh?”

  Not only brilliant, but intuitive, too. Mohab nodded.

  “And there I was under the impression I was unique.”

  Mohab sighed. “You are...both of you. Two of a kind.”

  Kamal sat forward, ire barely contained. “As charmed as I am by all this...nostalgia of yours, I have a date with my wife in an hour, and I’d rather be late for my own funeral than for her. I might make you early for yours if you don’t talk. Fast.”

  “All right. I am the rightful heir to Jareer.”

  Kamal’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t seen this coming. No one could have.

  Mohab explained. “For centuries, Jareer was an independent land, and my mother’s tribe, the Aal Kussaimis, ruled it up till a hundred and fifty years ago. But with my great-great-grandmother marrying an Aal Ghaanem, a treaty was struck with Saraya to annex the region, with terms for autonomy while under Sarayan rule and with provisions for secession if those terms weren’t observed.

  “When Jareer found itself on its own again under my grandfather’s rule, it saw no reason to enforce the secession rules, as it was effectively separated from Saraya anyway. Then Judar offered its protection. But in truth, Jareer belongs to neither Judar nor Saraya. It belongs to my maternal tribe. I would have brought you the records of our claim for as far back as a thousand years, but after yesterday’s fiasco, I had to rush to intervene before I could get everything ready. However, rest assured, the claim is heavily documented by the tribe’s elders and historians.”