“This will be good for us both. I should go now. I have a lot to think about,” he said instead. He led the way out of the office and stopped at the front door. “I’ll be in touch.”
The next day, Wasim called to let Imani know that his aunt and father approved of their engagement, and King Khalid believed their marriage was an excellent way to strengthen the alliance between their countries.
Then Imani called her parents to let them know that the king would be calling to speak to her father. Her mother’s shriek of pleasure had her pulling the phone away from her ear, and she almost felt guilty about the tangible excitement coming down the phone line.
She wasn’t privy to the conversation between her father—Prince Kehinde—and King Khalid, but after they talked, both men gave their blessing, paving the way for a harmonious marriage.
Her father’s swift acceptance of Wasim’s offer of marriage disappointed and hurt Imani—that he was so willing to marry her off, without once checking to see how she felt about the situation. He would never marry off one of her brothers in the same manner. Just like he would never make offhand comments about her brothers’ fiery tempers just because they wanted to control their own destiny. She might have been married off already if she hadn’t appealed to her uncle, the king, for the ambassador post in Barrakesch as soon as she finished graduate school.
A few days later, King Khalid made a formal announcement naming Wasim as his successor to the throne and announced his engagement to Imani. The days following the announcement were spent in a flurry of activity. Imani fielded numerous phone calls from friends in Barrakesch, some teasing her for snatching up one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. No surprise there, since no matter their age, women developed heart eyes and engaged in excessive giggling in his presence. A few not-so-jokingly expressed envy that she’d snagged the crown prince and future king.
Her staff expressed their congratulations and best wishes. Several of them stated they’d suspected something was going on between her and Wasim all along. She found it interesting that people saw a relationship where there was none and believed their suspicions were now confirmed.
During that same period, she received a call from Dahlia, her cousin’s wife. Dahlia was an American woman he’d married over a year ago and they now had two children—a boy and a girl. She and Imani had become close, so she wasn’t surprised when Dahlia called.
“You and Wasim?” Dahlia demanded as soon as Imani answered the phone.
Imani strolled from her bedroom out onto the balcony. “I’m fine, and how are you?”
Dahlia laughed. “Excuse my abrupt greeting, but you have to admit that this is a bit of a surprise. Or is it? I suspected there was an attraction or something going on between the two of you a long time ago.”
Why was everyone saying that? What did they see besides mild flirtation? It’s not as if she and Wasim didn’t have other relationships. He had his secret and not-so-secret liaisons, and she had a string of “toads” she’d had to walk away from.
“Barrakesch has religious restrictions against dating, so I assure you there was nothing going on between us.” Moving forward, she and Wasim would have to be extra careful about being alone together to avoid any semblance of impropriety.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Well, there was definitely an attraction there, and I told Kofi that.”
Kofi spoke next. “She seems to think I didn’t notice the way you two were with each other. My only surprise is that neither my cousin nor my best friend saw fit to tell me first that they were engaged. I had to hear the news from my father.”
“Thanks for making me feel guilty,” Imani said with a smile, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb.
“I’m surprised by this development because you’ve been dating quite a bit,” Kofi said.
“You make it sound like I’ve been going through a bunch of men! There weren’t that many.”
“There weren’t?” Kofi asked in a mocking voice.
“And what about Wasim? No comment about the number of women you’ve seen him involved with?” This was the type of conversation that irritated her. The men in her family insisted on treating her differently because they didn’t see her as an equal.
“It was obvious to me for a long time that Wasim was smitten with you, despite the other women.”
Her heart lurched with such unexpected news. “What makes you say that?”
“I have two eyes and could see the way he looked at you.”
Imani gnawed on the corner of her bottom lip. Had Wasim looked at her in some special way? Before or after that intimate moment in Estoria?
“I’m very happy for the two of you, and I’m excited for the wedding,” Dahlia said, breaking into her train of thought.
“There won’t be a wedding anytime soon. Wasim is preoccupied with getting everything ready for when his father passes. As morbid as that sounds, it’s important for the smooth transition of power. A wedding is the last thing on either of our minds.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about his father. Of course this is a difficult time, and I know that you’ll provide much of the support that he needs.”
“I’ll certainly do my best.”
“When will we see you again?” Kofi asked.
“Once I wrap up my post here, in about a month.”
Dahlia spoke next. “We look forward to seeing you then, and at that time we’ll have some kind of celebration.”
“I’ll plan on it,” Imani said.
“All right, we won’t keep you. Goodbye,” Dahlia said.
“Goodbye. Kiss the little ones for me.”
“I will. See you soon!”
After another round of goodbyes, Imani hung up the phone. She touched a finger to her bottom lip and felt warmth pool in her pelvis. Had those looks Kofi said he saw from Wasim been mere lust…or something more?
“You and Imani? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Andres said.
Sitting at the top of the steps that led into his expansive back yard, Wasim smiled at Andres’s incredulous tone. He scratched under the chin of the baby lion wedged up against his thigh. She was absolutely adorable, purring happily with half-closed eyes as he scratched her pleasure spot.
Across the lawn, the animal caretakers playfully wrestled with the lion and lioness in the grass.
“There was always chemistry between the two of you, but I never thought anything would come of it,” Andres admitted.
That comment got Wasim’s attention. “And why not?”
“For one thing, I never saw any sign of you settling down.”
“That’s because I didn’t want to settle down. But circumstances change, and decisions have to be made that make sense for you and your future.”
“That sounds very romantic,” Andres said dryly.
“What did you hope for? That she would put a ring through my nose the way Angela has put a ring through yours?”
A mere four months ago, in December, he’d married Angela Lipscomb, Dahlia’s best friend. He met her at Dahlia and Kofi’s wedding. They had a baby on the way in a few months.
Andres laughed. “Yes, and that you would love every minute of it. Falling in love and being with the person you love is the best feeling in the world. It makes you willing to do anything to hold on to that high.”
Wasim rubbed his hand over the cub’s head and ears, but didn’t reply.
“You don’t have to answer me, but I have to ask—is this real?”
Wasim paused. “What do you mean?”
“You and Imani.”
“As real as ever,” he replied evenly.
“That’s not an answer.”
“You have doubts because…why, exactly?”
“The timing, I suppose. But maybe I’m wrong.”
Wasim’s gaze shifted to where the adult lions now lazed in the sun. “Imani has all the qualities I want in a wife.”
“And she understands the demands that come with that position, which ma
kes her a good fit. I’m happy for you, if this is what you want.”
“This is what I want,” Wasim said firmly.
“Then I wish you both the best.”
“Thank you.” He had a feeling they would need it.
7
What a day!
Imani hurried into the embassy and removed her white face mask. She felt grimy and dirty. Today had been a particularly scorching day, with the ceremony she attended getting cut short by a sandstorm. They hadn’t had one this bad in over a year. With limited visibility, the entire city looked like it was covered in fog, and the local weather service predicted those conditions would remain until tomorrow.
Thank goodness she’d worn another headscarf, turban-style again—gold and black this time—which matched her gold blouse and black slacks. She looked forward to a cleansing shower, but at least she wouldn’t have to wash her hair.
“Any messages?” she asked as she swept down the carpeted hall to her office, past the photographs that portrayed rural and city life in Zamibia. She tucked the mask into the large leather purse over her shoulder.
Daman, the office manager, fell into step beside her and brushed dust particles from her clothes. He was a few inches taller than her with dark brown skin and wore his hair in dreadlocks pinned in a bun at the crown of his head.
“A few phone calls inquiring about the result of the report from the environmental commission.”
“A report we still haven’t received yet,” Imani said, irritation spiking her voice.
“Nothing has changed since this morning, and I’ve called several times to get an update, but no one can tell me anything except they will provide the report soon.”
Waiting for the assessment put Imani and her team in an awkward position with the Barrakesch government. Once the report arrived, they’d have to sort through it and make final adjustments before the agreement between Barrakesch and Zamibia could be signed. But absolutely nothing could be done until then. Right now, the Barrakesch Ministry of Oil was patient, but the delay meant postponing getting this project off all their plates.
“Keep me up to date on—”
Imani came to a stop on the threshold of her office and stared at her favorite piece of furniture. The large, heavy desk had been imported from Zamibia at her request and right now served as the base for a vase filled with red roses. She walked forward slowly.
“What’s all this?” She lifted one of the roses from the enormous bouquet.
“Special delivery. They arrived after lunch.” Daman came to stand beside her.
“From who?” Imani opened the attached envelope. Only one short sentence was written on the card inside.
No more toads.
Her heart fluttered, and she smiled through the biting of her lip.
Damon leaned in and peered at the card. “No more toads?”
Imani clutched the message to her chest and pursed her lips. “Mind your business.”
“What does that mean?”
Instead of answering, Imani walked around the desk, set down her purse, and sat in the leather chair. Crossing her legs, she sniffed the petals of the single rose, which reminded her of how the front entrance of Wasim’s home smelled. Roses were among the flowers he used in the fountain in the foyer.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked pointedly.
“So you’re not going to tell me?”
“Bye, Daman.”
“Those better be from Prince Wasim, or I’m telling.” He sent her a pointed look as he walked out of the room.
Imani failed at fighting the smile that came to her face. Wasim certainly had his own cheerleading section. She didn’t doubt for a minute that Daman would rat her out to Wasim if she stepped out of line. Women loved him and men admired him.
Her gaze lingered on the beautiful flowers, and she tapped a finger on the desktop. Should she call him now? He might be busy, but she wanted to thank him.
“Call him now,” she said aloud, laughing to herself.
She dialed his number, and it rang three times before he answered.
“Hello, Prince Wasim.” Imani winced, embarrassed at the sound of her voice. She sounded extra sweet and downright coquettish.
“Hello, Ambassador Karunzika. Did you get my gift? I hope the color was okay. I couldn’t find lavender roses.”
When he talked like that, with his voice low and warmth seeping through the words, he made her pulse go crazy.
“Yes, I received them and the color is fine. The flowers are beautiful. Toads?” She smiled.
“I’m wishing you the best moving forward. You’re too good for the toads of the world.”
Her nipples tightened fractionally. The compliment and small gesture of sending flowers had her head floating above the clouds.
This is pretend, she reminded herself.
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful. How are things coming with the technology expo?”
“Looking good so far. I expect it to be very successful.”
“Not bad for your first time.”
“Not bad at all,” he agreed.
“How is he?” Imani asked gently. She’d gone to spend time with the king the other day, and it was never clearer that death was nigh.
“Doing well, though it seems since he knows the kingdom will be fine, the weight that has been taken off his shoulders has made him more relaxed. Almost as if he’s…letting go.” His voice thickened toward the end.
Imani shut her eyes and absorbed his pain. “If there’s anything I can do, you’ll let me know, won’t you? I hope you know I mean that.”
“I will. And Imani, thank you for doing this.”
“Of course. We’re helping each other, right?”
“Right.”
Pause.
“In a few days I’m playing host to some men from the United States who want to open businesses here. We invited them to come with their families to my home. As my fiancée, I think it would be a good idea for you to attend. I’d considered canceling the event, but my father insisted I should move forward with the plans. Farouk and Yasmin will be there.”
“I know how you Barrakeschis love any reason to get together and eat. Is this one of your weed-them-out events?”
Family bonds were an important part of the culture. So important that large families were encouraged, and relatives often lived together in the same neighborhoods, creating community clusters that shared child-rearing duties and eldercare. Whenever possible, Wasim preferred to do business with people who held the same family values and liked to invite potential business partners to his home to see how they interacted with their spouses and children in a social setting.
He chuckled. “Yes.”
“That’s so unfair—these men have no idea you’re judging them.”
“It wouldn’t be an effective test if they did. So, I’ll see you in a few days? It will be more enjoyable if you’re there.”
Imani’s cheeks heated at the compliment. Because of their friendship she’d attended royal family functions in the past, but she’d never been to one of these type of events. “I’ll see you in a few days, Wasim.”
After they hung up, Imani sat staring at the bouquet. Then she lifted the single rose to her nose and inhaled its fragrance.
8
Wasim shook hands with the first American businessman who arrived with his nine-year-old daughter and wife by his side.
“Quite the spread you have here, Prince Wasim,” the man said, looking around.
“Thank you. Please, make yourself at home. There is plenty to eat and drink, and we even have a little entertainment for you.” He pointed in the direction of the animals that had been placed behind a wire fence to separate them from the guests.
The little girl squealed. “Is that a lion?”
“It is. I have two and a cub, two tigers, and chimpanzees,” Wasim answered.
“Oooh, Dad, can I go see?” She bounced on her feet.
The American chuckled. “Go
right ahead, but be careful.” As she tore off across the lawn, he turned to Wasim. “Interesting pets.”
“They make great conversation starters,” Wasim said with a chuckle. “Excuse me while I check on the other guests.”
As Imani had pointed out, Barrakeschis loved a good party and loved to eat, so parties and plenty of good food always went hand in hand. Caterers had set up tables around the lawn filled with an eclectic menu that was typically Middle Eastern but also included choices from the Indians and other Asians whose food had influenced the country since making it their home.
Wasim strolled across the lawn in a white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, pleased with the turnout, but wondering where Imani could be. Being that they were now officially a couple, they had to avoid the appearance of impropriety and be even more careful than usual about being seen alone together, so today’s group event was an opportunity for them to spend time together while maintaining the ruse that they planned to marry.
Once again, the thought of his father’s passing hit him. He was glad to be able to continue his father’s work and the plans he himself had envisioned, but it was nonetheless sobering to know that he would lose his father soon, essentially any day now.
Farouk and Yasmin arrived, holding hands like newlyweds, with Malak skipping along ahead of them. After a quick greeting, his nephew immediately ran off to play with the other children, tossing a ball on the grass.
Wasim crisscrossed the lawn, mingling with the guests and stopping to tease the children. As he greeted a small group of adults playing horseshoes, his sentence trailed off when Imani exited the house and stood at the top of the steps.
For a moment, he was speechless. He’d never seen her hair like that before, parted on one side and flipped up at the ends. She wore a mustard-colored tunic and matching pants. Brownish-red lipstick complemented her bronze complexion and coated the fullness of her lips, drawing his eyes and hurtling him back in time to the taste of that same mouth and how much he’d enjoyed kissing her.
He quickly abandoned the guests and walked over to her. Smiling, she stepped down onto the grass.
Queen of Barrakesch Page 5
