SEDUCING HIS PRINCESS

by Olivia Gates

  The cat made his decision and climbed onto her lap, reaching up to bump his head into her chin.

  She giggled, everything emptying from her mind but the delight cats always engendered in her. “Ya Ullah...you magical creature. I had a ginger boy like you once, but without your apron. He was as sweet as you and I miss him so very much....”

  Hot needles pricked behind her eyes, dissolved in moist pain that she’d thought she’d expended so many years ago.

  Needing to hide it from Mohab, she picked up Mizar and buried her face in his nape. A prod on her shoulder came from her side. It was Nihal, asking to be introduced. She turned to the cat, offering her hand. But Nihal, having seen Mizar already on her, dispensed with preliminaries and climbed down Jala’s arm to arch and rub against her side and then settle down against her thigh, a front leg draped over it. Rigel jumped from the couch, sniffed her feet first, then jumped up and joined the lap-warming party. At last, Sette rose regally from Mohab’s lap and sashayed over, pushing Mizar out of the way in the center of Jala’s lap and making the spot hers.

  Distributing strokes, delighting in their softness and trust, heart dancing to the frequency of their purrs, Jala looked at Mohab, her smile unfettered for the first time since...her days with him. “This is the best way to die, drowning in cats!”

  He didn’t smile back. Before her smile faltered, Mohab rose quietly, came to stand before her, his legs brushing hers as she sat covered in his cats. Then he came down on his knees before her.

  Her breath left her in a choking gasp as he leaned forward, his hands brushing her heavy, aching breasts as his arms slid behind her. “You didn’t only pass, ya jameelati, you broke my cat’s fastidiousness and suspiciousness barrier in record time. They didn’t even take to me that fast. It’s official, they have marked you as a bona fide cat slave.”

  Her smile broke out again, wavering this time. He bore down on her, this time making his cats vacate her lap and rearrange themselves around her. He pressed himself between her legs, making her open them for him, bringing him fully against her, the hard flesh of his bare chest burning through her dress, his harder arousal pressing into the junction of her thighs. She watched his face approaching hers with the same fatalism one would give an approaching train.

  “How about living drowning in cats?” His lips landed on her jaw, nuzzled its way up to her ear. “I and my family are all yours for the taking, ya jameelati. So take us.”

  This was so...incredible an offer it would have been everything she’d want from life if it had been real and only for her. If it had been in another life where the past and its losses hadn’t taken place. This way, it was just more pain.

  Her useless arms pushed against him. “I said I will say I’ll marry you, not that I will.”

  He gathered her closer again. “And I will take anything you’re willing to give. If you won’t marry me, even temporarily, you can still be with me. You can still have me.”

  “You expect me to sweep everything under the rug and just fall into your arms again?”

  “Under the rug is where all the irrelevant crap of the past belongs. And in my arms is where you do.”

  Her senses leaped so hard she felt as if they’d tear out of the confines of her body. All they’d ever wanted was to smother themselves in his nearness, his pleasures. Damn them. And damn him. Pulling her strings, dangling himself, reminding her how it had felt to be mingled with his flesh, riding his need, drenched in pleasure, inundated with satisfaction.

  “You and Al Shaitaan are closely related, aren’t you?” She exhaled. “Forget that. The devil must come to you for conniving lessons.” And temptation and seduction ones. “You must be his chief consultant.”

  He just smiled. And why not? He felt her buckling.

  She’d be damned if she did again, when he’d already condemned her to six years of misery. She wasn’t letting hormones run amok again, wouldn’t let them suppress her self-preservation.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because it’s the only thing I can do, ya ameerati al jameelah. I’ve starved for you and I’ll do anything so I can sate myself with you again.”

  She stared into his eyes and again could only feel his sincerity. As if whatever else hadn’t been right, this was the one thing that had always been real...his desire for her.

  Years of damaged self-worth and disbelief in her judgment trembled one last time...then everything shattered.

  As if feeling the second it did, his arms tightened, bringing her colliding with his steely mass, his lips taking hers and swallowing her moan of surrender.

  Then she found herself being plucked up by his momentum as he pitched backward on the lush Persian carpet, sprawled over it and stretched her on top of him. She vaguely felt the cats jumping after them, felt them prodding, as if to make sure they were okay.

  Cradling her head in his large palms, Mohab turned his to his cats. “I’m going to make love to Jala now, so go eat or bathe or something. We won’t have time for you for a while.”

  As if they understood him, the cats slunk away.

  Turning his attention back to her, he pulled her down, had her lips sinking into his and her core on his erection. He rocked against her, promising her, deluging her in readiness. Coherence dissolved on his invading tongue, drowned in his taste, her senses igniting like firecrackers with every plunge, sweep and groan....

  Remember what he cost you. The havoc he’d still wreak if you surrender. And you still didn’t contest your main gripe.

  Feeling as if she’d left a layer of skin stuck to his hot lips and hands, she scrambled off him, getting to her feet clumsily before plopping on the couch again.

  Brooding with hunger, radiating it, he rose to his elbows, stretching before her half-naked like a god of abandon.

  Before she crawled back over him, she bit her tingling lips. “So I got this part. You want me. Fine. How about we discuss another concern? Your transgressions?”

  He was on his feet in what should have been an impossible movement. She was in good shape herself, but this was a level of fitness and strength that was almost scary.

  His lips twisted. “Ma gatalnahom bahthann baad?”

  Haven’t we already killed them with investigation? The regional expression for draining a topic of life.

  She nodded, still shaky. “The old ones. But with you, there’s always new ones.” She sucked in a burning stream of aggravation. “You spied on me. You evidently still do.”

  “I tried to stop. I couldn’t.”

  So simple. So stymieing. Why couldn’t she do herself the life-saving favor of not wanting him anymore?

  He threw himself down beside her, grimacing. “That’s not true. I didn’t try. I knew I couldn’t stop watching over you.” Head resting on the couch, he turned his face toward her, inches from her own. “Jala, we both try to save the world in our own ways. But I’m the one who’s versed in its dangers, who can take measures to eradicate them. I won’t apologize for keeping tabs on you. You lead a very dangerous life.”

  “I do social and humanitarian work!”

  “In the world’s most dangerous places. Apart from the damages that could befall anyone just being there, you’re a temptation to even the most harmless of men.”

  She gaped at him.

  “It’s bigger than me, Jala, the need to know you’re safe. And since I’m the one best equipped to keep you safe, I do.”

  Incredulity burst out of her. “I keep me safe.”

  For a split second, his eyes said she knew nothing.

  This brought her sitting up. “Are you telling me you saved me from a danger I was unaware of?”

  Another blip said he’d saved her from far more than a danger. But he just shook his head. “Just leave it. I wasn’t ‘spying’ on you. I was reassuring myself of your s
afety and making sure you were safe. There’s a big difference.”

  The lump that now inhabited her throat again grew harder.

  Believing this would change so much. Mean too much. And she couldn’t handle more changes of perspective right now. The foundations of her existence, as miserable as they’d been, had constituted her stability. Losing them all, having to erect so many new ones so suddenly, was too...overwhelming. And he was already enough on his own.

  In defense, she groped for one of her established suspicions. “Or you were afraid I’d go after Najeeb again?”

  He huffed a mirthless laugh. “And what would I have done if you did? I believed you’d gone to him when you left me, and there was nothing I could do about it.” At her glower, he ground out, “I didn’t tell him anything.”

  She had no idea why, but this time, she believed him.

  Yet another pillar knocked over.

  After a moment in which he seemed to debate the wisdom of divulging another piece of the puzzle, he said, “I only found out later why Najeeb cut all ties with you.”

  And he told her why. At least what he believed to be true. She knew the real reason why Najeeb hadn’t contacted her again. Because she wouldn’t let him. But Mohab believed King Hassan’s slandering had ended her relationship with Najeeb.

  After discovering King Hassan had been behind her ordeal in the past, and knowing he was now the reason behind this current crisis, she didn’t feel bad about not exonerating him from that specific crime. It hadn’t been for lack of trying that he wasn’t guilty of it after all.

  Mohab was continuing, “Then you disappeared, and I couldn’t find you for months. When you resurfaced, there was no way I was going to let you out of my sight again.”

  She let out her bated breath. “If I say I believe you, you have to promise to stop.”

  He must have gauged they’d entered the negotiation zone as he bore down on her again, deluging her in a fresh wave of temptation. “Why? Who wouldn’t want a guardian angel like me? I’m very handy, you know. People pay me tens of millions to keep them safe. I am offering you a free ride for life.”

  His arms were halfway around her when she pushed out of them again and stood up, teetering with the urge to throw herself back into them, come what may. But this was just too soon, too fast...too much. She needed to slow down, take a look at where she was jumping, before she plunged into the deep end...again.

  Groaning, he stood up as well, his eyes suddenly totally serious for the first time since she’d seen him again. “I’ve told you the truth about everything so far. All but one thing.”

  Her breath deserted her as she turned fully toward him.

  Looking as if he was dragging shrapnel from his own flesh, he rasped, “You don’t have to marry me...or even say you would. You can leave right now, and there’d be no war.”

  Seven

  Mohab met his own eyes in the steamed-up mirror and reached a conclusion. He was insane.

  He’d gotten Jala to agree to a fake engagement, then progressed to alleviate her every doubt about the sincerity of his desire. Her surrender to his lovemaking, her mind-blowing response, had admitted her equal need. Her capitulation had only been a matter of time. If he’d just kept his mouth shut, he might have had her in his bed again by now.

  But he hadn’t kept his mouth shut.

  Mizar and Sette rubbed against his legs, distracting him from wanting to bash himself over the head.

  Sighing, he picked them up and headed out of the bathroom with Nihal and Rigel weaving between his legs. Even they couldn’t make him feel better now. They actually made him feel worse. All they did was remind him of his pleasure at Jala’s delight in them, of how it had felt to share them with her.

  Topping up their treats in the kitchenette, he told them he needed to be alone. As usual, they understood him and gave him space, not following him to the wing’s reception chamber.

  He stood in the middle of the magnificent space Kamal had bestowed on him and could still barely believe he was actually here. An Aal Ghaanem treated as an honored guest in the Aal Masood stronghold. A week ago, that would have been the material of a ridiculous joke. But Kamal had been given a second chance with his queen and was making a real effort to pay it forward.

  And what had he done with all of Kamal’s support and all the ground he’d managed to gain with Jala? He’d voluntarily blown it all to hell.

  He could still see Jala standing across from him, her face a frozen mask after he’d divulged that last bit of truth. Then she’d said one word.

  “Explain.”

  He had. He’d told her everything, hadn’t left out one single detail this time. After he’d finished, she’d just turned and walked out of his quarters.

  That had been three days ago. She’d left the palace that same night. He’d thought she’d head straight to the airport and fly out of Judar, never to return. But her security detail had called to report that she’d checked into a hotel on the other side of Durgham. Moving all the way across the capital had been a clear message that she’d wanted to distance herself from the palace. And him. Trying to call her had yielded no results. She wasn’t answering anyone’s phone calls. Then she’d turned her phone off. And it was all his fault.

  Exhaling forcibly, he moved to the French doors, stared sightlessly at the palace grounds. He had to face the fact that he couldn’t have done anything else.

  He’d lied to her too much during their relationship, hidden too much. At first believing he had to, then fearing the consequences of exposure. Then he’d seen her again, and she’d given him the full disclosure he’d long craved. And he’d realized that, apart from her own hang-ups about intimacy and commitment, the real reason he’d lost her all those years ago was because he hadn’t been honest with her. After realizing that, he could hide nothing anymore. He’d wanted her to want him based on full disclosure, too, needed to have her this time in total honesty.

  But after he’d confessed everything about the past, about his feelings, only one thing had remained. Her total freedom of choice about whether to be with him or not. So he’d given it to her.

  And she’d chosen not to be with him.

  The only reason he’d stayed in Judar till now was because she had. According to Farooq and Shehab, the ones she’d let near, having ostracized Kamal as well, she’d stayed only to see their kids a few times before she left. But she wouldn’t remain in the palace where both the perpetrators of this latest deception resided. It was probably a matter of a couple days before she left. It would be over then.

  Who was he kidding? It was already over. It had been over the minute she’d realized she didn’t have to put up with seeing him again. And it didn’t matter if she still wanted him. To Jala, freedom and autonomy and honesty had always mattered far more than her desires, no matter how ferocious those were.

  A growl of exasperation burst from his depths. Enough. He’d set up an elaborate gamble to resolve this need for her that continued to eat at him, and he’d lost. Everything had depended on being able to win her, and he’d done so fleetingly, before he’d lost her again...big-time.

  But he hadn’t lost her because he’d told her the full truth—it was because he’d started this whole thing with another charade. He’d catastrophically miscalculated all over again. Seemed it was hopeless. Whenever it involved her, he, the master strategist, had once more been reduced to a bumbling idiot.

  Growling again, unable to stay where she wasn’t, he strode out of the wing.

  He had to see Kamal before he left, tell him they’d have to plan another way to contain his uncle’s wrath. As for Jala, he’d have to get her out of his system some other way....

  “You’re better than I gave you credit for. Way better.”

  Mohab squeezed his eyes shut as the deep, amused voice hit him between the
shoulder blades.

  His condition was much worse than he’d thought. He hadn’t even felt Kamal approach.

  What the hell. Get this over with.

  He turned to Kamal...and almost winced. That was it. He no longer considered Kamal his new favorite person. This guy was just too happy. And it swamped Mohab with such...futility. A hopelessness that he’d ever feel anything like that.

  “I was coming to see you....” he began.

  Kamal took his arm. “I could have just called you, but I had to see you again and picture you in your future capacity, now that it has emerged from the realm of speculation to fact.”

  Mohab’s frown deepened. He didn’t get one word of what Kamal had just said.

  Kamal went on, spouting more gibberish. “I really thought the next I heard from Jala would be with a proposal on how to avert the war without her involvement. And the worst part? Even if we’d been dealing with the original, critical situation, I had no doubt she’d present me with a real solution.”

  Kamal huffed a laugh at the word solution, which had evidently become an inside joke between them. However, Mohab wasn’t in any laughing mood over it, or over anything else, anymore.

  Kamal continued, “She’s been known to formulate workable solutions for some seemingly impossible situations to the satisfaction of all sides in some of the world’s most volatile regions.”

  Mohab knew that. He’d followed her work closely, with the utmost interest and admiration. And more than a little humility and self-deprecation. For she’d been able, with far fewer resources and powers, to peacefully do what he’d thought could only be resolved through his extreme measures. And while he’d discreetly helped her wherever he could, he’d been honing his methods on her example.

  But why was Kamal telling him all this now? Or was he the one who couldn’t make sense of anything anymore?

  Kamal, who’d taken him back to his quarters, was going on as they entered. “Then she leaves, and I think the next time I want to see her I’ll have to chase after her on one of her jaunts around the world. But I should have known better than to predict Jala the Unpredictable. She left the palace only to go stay in a three-star hotel.”