The Sheik's Arranged Marriage

The Sheik's Arranged Marriage Susan Mallery Man-shy American Heidi McKinley winces when the king himself insists she marry–and make heirs with–his sinfully sexy royal son!For Prince Jamal was a legendary lover, an expert on erotic intrigue. Whatever would he see in serious-minded Heidi? Plenty! Up to his crown in gold-digging bubbleheads, Jamal is secretly enchanted with the sweet and studious virgin.So why was homespun Heidi donning silken disguises and posing as siren "Honey Martin" to seduce him? And how could Jamal hope to choose between a bold, brazen "mistress" and a bashful, blushing bride? The Sheik’s Arranged Marriage Susan Mallery To my editor Karen Taylor Richman. With thanks for the support, the encouragement and the willingness to let me write books like these. You are the best! Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteeen Chapter One S he was back, and she was never going to leave! After four years of college and two years of finishing school—in Switzerland of all places—Heidi McKinley had finally been allowed to return to the one place on earth where she felt at home. El Bahar. Land of mystery and beauty, where past and present blended in perfect harmony. She wanted to dance down the main street of the souk and buy pomegranates and dates and clothes and all the wonders available at the marketplace. She wanted to put her feet in the sea and feel the heat of the sand. She wanted to breathe in the scents of the beautiful gardens within the palace grounds. With a burst of laughter, Heidi raced to the window and pushed open the French doors. Her three-room suite in the guest wing of the palace opened onto a wide balcony. Instantly, the heat of the afternoon sucked the air from her lungs. It was June, the hottest time of the year. It would take her a few weeks to acclimate to the temperature, but even the sensation of freeze-drying like a mummy couldn’t dull her bright spirits. She was back. She was really and truly back. “I had hoped you would become sensible as you grew up, but I can see my wish was a futile one.” Heidi turned at the sound of the familiar voice, then smiled broadly as Givon Khan, King of El Bahar, stepped onto the balcony. The old king, as much a grandfather as her father’s father had been, held open his arms. “Come. Let me welcome you.” Heidi flung herself in his arms. She pressed against the suit jacket he wore and inhaled the familiar scents of her childhood. Sandalwood, oranges and something indefinable…something that belonged only to El Bahar. “I’m back,” she murmured happily. “I have my degree, and I even completed two years at that silly finishing school, just as I promised. Now may I work here?” King Givon drew her into her suite, then closed the French doors. “I refuse to discuss anything of importance out in that heat. We have air-conditioning for a reason.” “I know, but I love the heat.” Givon was nearly six feet tall, with the weathered features of a man who has spent much of his life in the sun. His wise brown eyes seemed to see all the way down to her soul, much as her grandfather’s gaze had done. She’d spent her whole life trying to please both men. Now, with her grandfather gone, there was only Givon, and she would have moved the world for him. He was still a ruler known for both his wisdom and his patience. She’d heard stories that also reminded her that he could be cruel when it was necessary, but she’d never seen that side of the king. “Why do you speak of work?” he asked, cupping her face in his right hand. “You’ve only just arrived.” “Oh, but I want to work. That’s been my dream since I was little. You promised,” she reminded him. “So I did.” He drew his eyebrows together. “Whatever was I thinking?” Heidi sighed but didn’t try to cajole the king. She knew better. Besides, female tricks of the trade weren’t her specialty. She could translate ancient El Baharian text with a degree of accuracy that impressed scholars, but flirting…not her, not ever. She didn’t get either the process or the point. Except for the king and her grandfather, males of the species were little more than an annoyance. “You are a lovely young woman,” the king told her. “Too lovely to be locked up in dark rooms all your life. Are you sure about this?” She closed her eyes briefly. “Please don’t start the ‘wouldn’t you rather be married’ speech, Your Highness. I don’t want to be married. You told me that if I worked hard in school and learned all I needed, including attending that hideous finishing school, then I could have a job inside the palace, translating the old texts. You can’t go back on your word now.” King Givon seemed to grow even taller. He stared down at her with a ferocity that made her instantly regret her words, even if she didn’t actually retract them. Bushy eyebrows drew together. She thought he might start yelling at her, and while the prospect wasn’t thrilling, she wasn’t going to cower from him, either. Her grandfather had raised her to be a McKinley and that meant being proud. “Minx,” the king said at last with a sigh. Then he touched her cheek. “All right. You may work on your precious texts.” “You won’t be sorry,” she said quickly. “There are so many to translate. We have to capture the information quickly before the papers are all destroyed. Time and the elements have weakened many of the fibers. I want to get everything photographed, then stored in a computer data bank. If we—” He held up a hand to stop her. “Spare me the technical details. It is an ambitious project. One I’m sure you’ll do well. In the meantime, I have something else I wish to discuss with you.” He moved to a sofa opposite the French doors and sat down. When he patted a cushion next to him, she did as he suggested and settled next to him. He took her hand in his. “How old are you now?” he asked, staring into her face. What an odd question. Still, it didn’t occur to her not to answer. He was the king after all. “Twenty-five.” “That old.” He nodded. “You’ve never married.” Heidi laughed, then shook her head. “Not me, Your Highness. I’m not the type. I’m far too independent to be happy as someone’s wife. I have no interest in cooking or cleaning. Worse, I refuse to let decisions be made for me by someone simply because he’s male. It’s ridiculous.” She paused, carefully withdrew her hand from his, then cleared her throat. Oops. The king was a man and he would not approve of her thoughts on his gender. King Givon might have successfully steered his country into the new millennium, but he was in many ways the essence of El Bahar, which meant some of his world was still anchored in the past. “I mean no disrespect,” she added hastily. “Your Highness isn’t like other men, and he would—” The king held up a hand to stop her again. “I understand. You were raised in the West, which means you have different ideas about many things. Your grandfather allowed you to make your own decisions much of the time. Your thoughts about marriage are not unexpected.” He glanced at her, then looked out the French doors. Heidi followed his gaze and found herself caught up in the magical view. She could see clear to the horizon. The deep blue of the Arabian Sea stretched out before her. It was the most beautiful vista imaginable, she thought dreamily. So perfect, so heavenly, so— “What about children?” the king asked. Heidi blinked. “Children?” “How will you have them without a husband?” There were probably dozens of ways to do that, Heidi thought, but she knew that wasn’t what the king meant. Would she be comfortable being a single mother? Heidi rubbed her bottom lip as she thought. Maybe…probably not. That required a strength of character she wasn’t sure she possessed. And she did really want children. They were the only upside to marriage that she could see. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t thought that much about it. Why do you ask?” “I have a problem,” Givon told her. “One only you can help me with.” He paused just long enough to let her know this was a most delicate issue. Which was also long enough for her to remember how much she owed the king. He had always been a wonderful friend to her and her grandfather. As a child, she’d spent part of every summer in El Bahar. When her grandfather had died six years ago, King Givon had been the one to make all the arrangements, to hold her while she cried, then to help her get ready for college. He’d had a kingdom to run, yet he’d taken her to New York so she could shop for clothes. Then he’d personally seen her settled into her dormitory. He was the one—the only one—who now remembered her birthday and made sure she knew she was always welcome in El Bahar. “I will do anything,” she told him and meant it. King Givon smiled. “Very good. I was hoping you would say that. You see, I would like you to marry my son, Jamal.” “What’s wrong with you?” Jamal Khan asked as he leaned back in his leather office chair. His older brother, Malik, stretched out on the sofa at the far end of the room. He propped his feet on the armrest and stared gloomily at the ceiling. “You don’t want to know.” Jamal glanced at the clock. The U.S. stock exchange was about to come on-line, and he wanted to check his stock portfolio. The market had been a little volatile in the past couple of days. The middle of the king’s three sons, Jamal was in charge of the personal fortune of the Khan family. In the past five years, he’d tripled their net worth. Some of their increase in wealth was due to a growing world economy, but it was also due to his own philosophy of investing. “I have work to do,” Jamal reminded his brother. Malik glared. He was the oldest and crown prince of El Bahar. If anyone had more to do than Jamal, it was Malik. Still, he couldn’t resist tweaking the tiger’s tail from time to time. “She’s back,” Malik said, returning his attention to the ceiling. “Who is back?” “Heidi the Horrible. Grandmother told me the bad news. This means she’ll be with us for dinner. Dear God, what if I have to sit next to her again? She has that way of looking at a man. As if he’s slightly less appealing than a worm with sores.” Jamal laughed. “A worm with sores? She said that?” “She doesn’t have to. She gets this kind of pinched expression in her eyes, and her nose gets all scrunchy. And then she’s oh so polite.” He shuddered. Jamal stared in disbelief. Malik was acting out of character. “You’re afraid of a woman?” Malik sat up and glared again. “I’m not afraid. I don’t like her. There’s a difference.” “She makes you feel inadequate?” “Don’t go there, little brother,” Malik warned him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jamal could not believe a mere woman had his imperious brother running scared. He didn’t remember much about Heidi McKinley. She’d been around on and off most of his life. Something about her grandfather and the king being friends. “She’s a child. Father only pays attention to her because he never had any daughters.” “Easy for you to say. You’ve been gone during her most recent visits. She’s not a child anymore. She’s in her twenties. Grandmother always sits her next to me. As if I’m going to suddenly fall in love with her and want to marry her.” Malik stilled. “Do you think that’s it? Are they trying to arrange a match?” “I hope not for your sake,” Jamal said honestly. “Especially not if she’s as horrible as you say.” “She’s worse. A prim and proper virgin who knows too much about everything. She’s studied El Baharian history and likes to talk about it endlessly. Her goal in life is to translate texts, if you can believe it.” He could not. “Is she unattractive?” Malik hesitated. “I don’t know.” “You have to know. You’ve seen her.” “Yes, but it’s not that simple. She wears these clothes.” Jamal didn’t remember ever seeing his brother this disconcerted—and by a woman, no less. “Most females wear clothes. It’s tragic but true.” “I don’t mean that,” Malik told him. “Her clothes are different. I’d say she dresses like a nun, but I don’t want to insult the fashion sense of the holy sisters. She’s fussy and wears high collars and glasses. She has her hair in a bun.” He threw up his hands. “Heidi McKinley is a dried-up, old spinster whom I will never sit next to again.” Jamal leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “I must see this frightening female who has the crown prince running scared.” Malik rose to his feet and reached into his trouser pocket. “You, my brother, are the most successful with the ladies, but even you won’t be able to seduce this one. Fifty dollars says you can’t make the Prune Princess crack a smile at dinner.” Jamal rose to his feet as well. He leaned forward and pressed his hands against the desk. “I have a better bet. Your new Ferrari for a week.” “In your dreams,” Malik scoffed. “Your new Ferrari for a week,” he repeated, ignoring Malik. “If I kiss her tonight.” Malik’s eyebrows drew together. “If you don’t, I get your new stallion to cover six of my mares.” He grinned. “One for each day of the week with Sunday to rest, of course.” Jamal considered. The mysterious Heidi McKinley must be formidable indeed if his brother was willing to consider putting his new car on the line. But Jamal wasn’t concerned. He hadn’t met a woman yet who was able to resist his considerable charm. Both he and his stallion would be safe. “Done,” he agreed and held out his hand. “On the mouth,” Malik added, pressing his hand into his brother’s. Jamal tightened his grip and grinned. “Leave it to a professional.” “M-marry?” Heidi repeated, convinced she’d heard the king incorrectly. “You want me to marry…?” Her voice trailed off. This wasn’t happening, she told herself as she shakily got to her feet. The room that had been so wonderful just a few short minutes before seemed to spin and bend. Marriage! She’d never thought of marrying. She wasn’t the type. She didn’t find men all that interesting, and to be completely honest, they didn’t seem to find her appealing either. “Are you so very surprised?” Givon asked. “You’re well into your twenties, and you’re certainly sensible.” Old and sensible. Two fine reasons to marry, she thought, trying to find humor in the situation. Trying to find something—anything—to keep herself from losing her mind. “I am surprised,” she managed to say at last. “I never thought…” “Then you should think about it now. You and Jamal have much in common. Granted, he’s a few years older, but that’s a good thing in a husband. You both love El Bahar. Jamal is a great one for history. You both like to ride.” “I haven’t been on a horse since I was twelve,” she murmured, as if that would make all the difference in the world. Of course we would have married , she would say years from now. But I didn’t ride . “So you’ll learn again,” he said. “It’s not so difficult.” Heidi paced to the far wall, the one with the mural of the Garden of Eden. The tiny pieces of tile formed a perfect picture of Eve being tempted by the serpent. The red tiles of the fruit seemed to gleam with an inner brightness. Was she being tested as well? Was Givon the serpent, or was he the answer to her prayers? “Jamal needs you,” the older man continued, his tone low and persuasive. “His life is empty. It’s been nearly six years since his wife died, and in all that time he’s been alone.” Heidi didn’t know which comment to address first. Jamal might need something, but she doubted it was her. As for him being alone, talk about a joke. “Your Highness, Jamal has dated every attractive woman between here and the North Pole. He’s a womanizer.” Jamal preferred his women busty, beautiful and blond. Actually the hair color wasn’t specific. He liked them all. The more glamorous, the more famous, sexy and available, the better. Gossip columns batted his name around like balls at a tennis match. He was rumored to be a spectacular lover. Not that she cared about that sort of thing. And she didn’t really look at the gossip magazines either. But when she was getting her hair trimmed, there wasn’t much else to read. “As I said,” Givon told her, ignoring her previous comment. “His life is empty. He gets involved with these bubbleheads. Yes, he finds them appealing, but does he marry them? Does he bring them to El Bahar?” He answered his own question with a shake of his head. “No. They are nothing to him. He uses them and tosses them aside.” “There’s a character reference for a future husband,” she muttered. “He needs a wife,” the king continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Someone he can care about. Someone he can love and who can love him in return.” “That’s all very interesting, but it has nothing to do with me.” Heidi turned to face him. “I don’t want to marry Jamal or anyone. I have my work. I’m back here in El Bahar. That’s all I need.” “You need more. You need to be married so you can have babies.” She refused to think about children. She would not be seduced by the promise of a family. “You can’t tell me you don’t like him,” Givon said. “I think he’s your favorite.” She told herself she was not going to blush. The heat on her face was just…well…from being outside. That was it. She didn’t believe in blushing, mostly because she never got embarrassed. Her life didn’t lend itself to embarrassing moments. She was sensible. “Your sons are all very nice,” she said with as much sincerity, not to mention diplomacy, as she could muster. “I don’t have a favorite.” One of the princes? Was he kidding? They were all imperious and outgoing and far too bold for her. Khalil, the youngest, seemed to have settled down with a very nice wife. But Malik and Jamal were still wild, and they made her nervous. She didn’t especially want to marry, but when she did—for the sake of those imaginary children—it would be to a gentle man. Someone intellectual and kind. Someone who didn’t get into a lather about passion and touching. Someone with whom she could share a spiritual and mental relationship that was far more important than the physical. “But you think Jamal’s handsome.” Heidi drew in a deep breath. “He’s not unattractive. None of your sons are.” How could they be? All taller than six feet. All with dark hair and burning eyes. Sort of a combination of James Bond and Rudolph Valentino. And she might have had one or two fantasies about Jamal when she was younger…much younger, but she’d outgrown that sort of thing. Givon stood up and walked over to stand next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close. “Good. Then you’ll sit next to him at dinner and consider what I’ve said. He needs to marry. You need to marry. It’s perfect.” “It’s not perfect.” But Givon wasn’t listening. “Fatima wants this, too,” he said. “You know my mother. When she gets her mind set on something, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.” Heidi groaned. “Not Fatima, too. I can’t resist you both.” The king grinned. “You’re right, so don’t even bother trying.” He kissed her cheek and was gone. Heidi sank onto the floor, her back pressed against the mural. Fatima had been a second mother to her. With her Chanel clothes and her gracious manners, she was royalty personified. Elegant, intelligent, warm-hearted. Heidi had always thought that Fatima was the most perfect queen to ever grace El Bahar. But behind the gracious manners and just-right makeup lurked a spine of steel and a resolve that could withstand an army. Married? Heidi? “I don’t even date,” she muttered aloud. She’d tried it twice and had experienced exactly two disasters. She’d attended an all-girls high school, so her first date hadn’t occurred until college. She’d been invited to a frat party on a neighboring campus. No one had warned her that the fluffy coconut concoction had contained more rum than was healthy. After consuming three icy drinks in less than an hour, she’d found herself on her hands and knees, throwing up in the closest bathroom. It had been her first experience with alcohol. Amazingly enough, her date had assumed her sickness meant she would be that much easier to force into bed. Before she’d realized what he was doing, she’d found herself on her back with her skirt up to her waist. Fortunately for her, if not for him, she’d thrown up yet again…all over him, herself and the bed. It had squashed his mood, and she’d made her escape. Her second attempt at dating had been worse. No, she wasn’t interested in dating, let alone marriage, and she would make both very clear the second she laid eyes on Jamal Khan, Prince of El Bahar. Chapter Two “J ust so we’re all clear,” Heidi said as she walked into the dining room that evening, “I’m not interested in getting married.” The man sitting at the large table didn’t even have the grace to look shocked by her statement. Instead he smiled politely, rose to his feet and nodded. “Thank you for clearing that up so quickly,” he said, his voice low and smooth. Heidi felt a faint heat on her cheeks. She told herself it was from the exertion of her walk. After all, her room was some distance from the dining room. Also, she’d been walking quickly because she wanted to catch Jamal alone. Which he had been…and they now were. There was the sensation of more heat, which she ignored. She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I can explain.” Jamal Khan moved toward her, stopping only when he was within touching distance. She hated that she had to look up to see him. She hated even more that he was so appealing. The princes were walking, breathing, life-sized clich?s. All tall, dark, handsome and rich. Jamal was the worst of the three in her opinion. He stood at least two inches over six feet. He wore his jet-black hair brushed straight back in a conservative style that suited his strong bone structure perfectly. His suit was tailored, his tie probably cost as much as a month’s dining pass at her college. Don’t even get her started on his shoes. Handmade. Leather. Heidi felt a slight shiver at the base of her spine. It was a dumb place for a shiver to begin so she ignored that, too. “It’s been a long time, Heidi,” he said, holding out his hand. “What a pleasure to see you again.” She briefly shook hands with him then laced her fingers together behind her back where they were out of danger. She hadn’t really felt any tingling when they’d touched. No jolt of any kind. Really. If she had, well, she would ignore that along with the odd sort of weakness in her knees. “Yes, it’s been a while.” She glanced over her shoulder and stared down the empty hallway. “They’ll be here any moment. We have to talk.” “They?” He drew out the word just long enough to make her realize he thought she was crazy. “Your father and grandmother. King Givon came to see me this afternoon. He made these noises about us getting married. You and me. I don’t know why. We barely know each other. We’re not suited at all. We have to stop him.” “The king made noises? Like grunts? Or was it a coughing sound.” Heidi glared at him. “You’re not taking me seriously.” Jamal had the audacity to smile. “No, I’m not. If you’re not interested in an arranged marriage then simply tell him so.” “I did. He didn’t listen.” “Then say no to me.” This was by far the strangest conversation she’d had in her life…bar none. “Aren’t you upset? Doesn’t this bug you? He’s arranging your life. And mine. I don’t want this.” Jamal touched her cheek. It was a casual gesture, nearly paternal. Even so, she felt her heart make a little thunk in her chest. “I’m Prince Jamal Khan of El Bahar,” he said. She resisted the urge to say “Duh.” “It is my duty to marry and produce heirs,” he continued. “I haven’t met anyone I wish to be with so when the time comes, I’ll accept an arranged match. It has been this way for hundreds of years.” “I know the custom,” Heidi said through gritted teeth. “I’ve studied the culture. That’s not my point. My point is I don’t want to be a part of history. Don’t you get it? Your father thinks we would be a good match. You have to stop him before he goes too far.” Dark brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you stop him? Simply tell him you’ll refuse me.” “It would be better if you didn’t ask me in the first place,” she muttered. “I sort of owe the king. He’s been really good to me since my grandfather died. Even before that. I would feel horrible turning him down.” She looked up at him. “But I really, really don’t want to marry you.” “How flattering,” Jamal murmured. Jamal had been prepared to meet Heidi the Horrible. Instead he found himself being almost charmed by a young woman who was much more schoolgirl than termagant. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she told him. “Don’t go getting all male and insulted.” “Male and insulted? What does that mean?” She glared at him, then pushed up her glasses. “You know. Guys hate it when women are honest. You all need your egos catered to. It’s really time-consuming.” “Ah. You have personal experience with this ego-catering?” “Not exactly, but I’ve seen a lot of it.” “Secondhand knowledge?” Her nose wrinkled in what he assumed was the scrunchy expression that had intimidated Malik. “I don’t have to cut off my arm to know I wouldn’t like the experience.” He mulled over that thought. “You’re saying that you don’t have to be involved with a man to know he’s interested in having his ego catered to?” “Exactly.” Her tone of voice was pleased, as if a particularly dull student had given a clever response. Jamal stared at his dinner guest. As Malik had promised, Heidi did dress like a spinster. Tonight she wore a gray dress that buttoned tightly to a high collar. Despite the heat of the June evening, her arms were covered with long sleeves and her skirt fell nearly to her ankles. Not a drop of makeup covered her pale skin. If her hazel eyes appeared wide, it was because of their shape, not because she’d used cosmetics. Light brown hair had been pulled back into an unattractively tight bun. The small glasses perched on her nose only added to the clich? of the spinster schoolteacher. He narrowed his gaze. While she wasn’t really a Prune Princess, she had the look of a woman who didn’t like men very much. Which was unfortunate. With the right clothes and a better hairstyle, she could be pretty. From what he could tell through the thick material of her dress, her shape appeared to be pleasant enough. “So it would never work,” she assured him. “The marriage thing. We don’t know each other. I doubt we would like each other. I don’t even ride.” He blinked. “Ride what? I don’t understand.” What did riding have to do with an arranged marriage? “I don’t know how to make the sentence more clear.” Her expression clearly indicated her lack of faith in his intelligence. He wasn’t the bright student anymore. “I understand the sentence, just not your point.” She drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t ridden a horse in years. Princesses ride. Isn’t that the law or something?” Jamal felt his mouth twitch slightly. Odd, he thought, but also appealing in a twisted sort of way. As for her other concerns… “I will do my best not to propose,” he promised. “Thank you. I’m sure you’d be a wonderful husband, but I couldn’t be less interested.” She paused. “I don’t mean that against you personally. I don’t want to marry anyone. I’m very independent.” There was a surprise, he thought humorously. He pulled out a chair for her, waited until she was seated, then eased it back into place. He then drew out the chair next to her for himself. If nothing else, he would spend his evening entertained. “Why are you sitting there?” she asked in alarm. “Don’t get close. You’ll give them ideas.” “According to you, they already have ideas.” “They don’t need encouragement. You should sit across from me. As far away as possible. Then ignore me at dinner. Be rude, even. I won’t mind.” Her hazel eyes widened with heartfelt sincerity. Jamal couldn’t remember the last woman who had so clearly expressed her lack of interest in him. In a strange way, he found her candor oddly appealing. After all, life had taught him to be cynical where women were concerned. He’d had his share of females interested in his money, his title, his fame, or all of the above. A virgin who wanted him to keep his distance was a refreshing change. “Sit there,” she said, pointing across the table. The teak dining-room table could seat as many as twenty people, but tonight it had been set for only six. Heidi indicated the place setting across from hers and over one. Unfortunately for her, it was still close enough that they could talk. Who was Heidi McKinley, and where had she come from? He remembered a skinny, young girl getting underfoot. But those memories were from his teen years very long ago. Malik implied she’d visited several times and recently. Had he been so busy with his own life that he hadn’t paid attention? What set of circumstances had turned her into a unique combination of innocence and nerve? “You’re looking at me,” she said. “Don’t do that. Ignore me. Really. It’s fine.” He obligingly turned his attention away from her, only to have it drawn back to her pale face. Why was she so afraid of marriage? More important, why wasn’t he in a panic of his own? His wife had been dead nearly six years. Jamal knew that the king had been giving him time to recover from his loss. He grimaced. There wasn’t enough time in eternity for him to get over Yasmin, but he wasn’t about to tell his father that. Nor would he share that his feelings for the woman weren’t what everyone thought. Was King Givon considering arranging another match for his middle son? Jamal knew it was just a matter of time until he was expected to marry again. This time he would have to produce heirs. Unlike Khalil, he hadn’t met anyone and fallen in love. For him the woman he chose as his wife would simply be the lesser of two evils. Someone he could tolerate and perhaps even be friends with. His gaze settled on his guest. So far, Heidi wasn’t an unappealing choice. She caught him looking at her and gave him a tight, worried smile. Malik was wrong, he thought. She wasn’t a prune. She was actually somewhat cute. There were footsteps in the hallway. Heidi pushed up her glasses then leaned toward him. “Remember,” she said. “Be rude. Ignore me. It’s what I really want.” He nodded his agreement, all the while wondering what it was he really wanted. Jamal was not taking her concerns seriously, Heidi thought later as one of the servants cleared the dinner plates. Worse, the evening was not going as she’d hoped. For one thing, Jamal was now sitting across from her. Fatima, Jamal’s grandmother, and the king had been the first to arrive. They’d taken seats at opposite ends of the table. Then when Khalil and his wife, Dora, had walked into the dining room, Fatima had insisted that Jamal move so that husband and wife could sit across from each other. Which meant Jamal had shifted to the seat opposite hers. Where she’d been forced to stare at him for the entire meal. It was horrible. She took a sip of her wine and tried not to let her frustration—not to mention her apprehension—show. Fatima leaned close and patted the back of Heidi’s hand. “Now that you’re going to be living here, we can plan a trip to London and attend the theater together,” she said. Heidi pressed her lips together. That sounded like a normal enough statement—one she could respond to without fear of Jamal being dragged into the conversation again. “I’d like that,” she said cautiously. Fatima was safe, she reminded herself. The king’s mother had always been a friend. Heidi risked a smile at the older woman. Tonight Fatima wore an elegant evening suit in dark gold. The tailored jacket emphasized her slender but regal figure, while her upswept hairstyle gave her added inches of height. Her makeup was perfect and discreet; the pearls at her ears matched the triple strand around her neck. Fatima was all Heidi aspired to be—beautiful, confident and in control. “Jamal is very fond of the arts,” Givon said, his voice carrying the length of the table and then some. “Theater, dance, music. He enjoys it all.” The king’s comment was only one of a dozen extremely unsubtle attempts to show how much Jamal and Heidi had in common. Khalil, Jamal’s younger brother, looked up and grinned. “It’s true. Jamal lives for the arts. He’s so fond of them, sometimes we even call him Art. As a nickname.” Dora, sitting across from her husband, touched her napkin to her mouth. “Ignore them both,” she said. “Khalil has a wicked sense of humor, which is currently operating at your expense. I will discuss it with him later and make sure the torment of this evening is not repeated.” Khalil, sitting on Heidi’s left, didn’t look the least bit concerned. “Are you threatening me, wife?” Dora, a pretty brunette with warm, friendly eyes, smiled. “Absolutely. Heidi is a guest here. Be kind to her.” “You’re not lecturing the king,” her husband said. “I’m not married to the king.” Dora turned her attention to Heidi. “I suggest you don’t pay any attention to them. The men in this family mean well, but they can be a trial.” Heidi smiled weakly at the gesture of friendship. She hadn’t met Dora before, but she thought she might like Khalil’s wife. At least Dora seemed to be the sensible type. “I’m not a trial,” the king insisted. “Yes, you are,” Fatima and Dora said at once. There was a moment of silence, then everyone laughed. Heidi tried to join in, but her heart had nestled firmly in her throat. It made it difficult to breathe, let alone laugh. She found it easier to simply be quiet and hope the conversation returned to a more normal topic. To distract herself, she studied the room in which they were dining. The family dining room was an open area tucked into an alcove by the main garden. One wall was glass, opening out onto a fountain and the blooming flowers beyond. Extra chairs lined the back wall. Flowers decorated the white tablecloth. Silver gleamed, and crystal reflected the light of the brilliant chandelier overhead. She wanted to say this was one of her favorite places in the palace, but the truth was, she enjoyed the entire structure. There was so much beauty here…so much history. Parts of the palace predated the Crusades. There were entire rooms filled with antique weapons, and the library contained dozens of books written and illustrated by hand. “What are you thinking?” Jamal asked. She looked up and found the prince’s dark eyes focused on her face. His attention made her nervous. She pushed her glasses into place and cleared her throat. “Just that the palace is a very beautiful place. I’m pleased to be back. Did I mention that I was interested in restoring the ancient texts?” “Jamal is interested in history,” the king said, interrupting. “He reads about it all the time.” Jamal’s well-shaped mouth tightened in annoyance. “I live for history,” he said. “They call me History. It’s a nickname.” He tossed his napkin onto the table. “Come on, Heidi. I think you and I should leave these good people to finish their dinner.” She rose gratefully to her feet. While she wasn’t all that excited about being alone with Jamal, she didn’t want to stay here and be tortured, either. “Where are you going?” the king asked. “Into town? You could take her to a club. Or dancing. Dancing is nice.” He smiled at Heidi. “Don’t you like to dance?” “Or a walk in the garden,” Fatima added quickly. “It’s very beautiful out tonight.” “Hey, we could clear the table, and you two could get to it right—” Khalil stopped abruptly. “You kicked me,” he accused, glaring at Dora. “What did I say?” Dora ignored him. “Go,” she told Heidi. “I’ll hold them back while you two make your escape.” Jamal held out his hand. Heidi took it and allowed him to lead her from the room. They raced to the end of the hallway, then made a series of quick turns, finally ending up in an alcove that led to one of the small gardens on the side of the palace. Jamal leaned against the wall and dropped his chin to his chest. “That was horrible.” “I tried to warn you,” Heidi told him. “But you wouldn’t listen.” She shuddered. “Dancing is nice. I can’t believe the king said that.” Jamal looked at her. “You missed your line on that one.” She thought for a minute, then laughed. “You’re right.” She pressed her free hand to her chest. “I live to dance. They call me Dan.” Jamal chuckled, then jerked his head toward the glass doors. “If I promise not to discuss anything of significance, do you want to take a walk for a couple of minutes? Just until it’s safe to go our separate ways.” “Sure.” He pulled open one of the glass doors, and they stepped out into the night. Heidi inhaled the scent of oranges and plants and turned earth and even the sweetness left by the lingering heat. She closed her eyes and sighed. “This is El Bahar,” she breathed. “I always try to remember how it smells in the gardens, but no matter how I promise myself I’ll remember, I always seem to forget. After a couple of months I can’t recall the exact sweetness, or the way the earth adds a darker tone to the fragrance. I lose the sounds of the night here. The chirpings and stirrings. The gentle splash of the fountains.” “You love it here, don’t you?” Heidi opened her eyes and found Jamal staring at her. She started to take a step back from him, only to discover that they still held hands. She looked at their entwined fingers in amazement. How had that happened? “I, um…” She gave him a quick smile, then freed herself. “I’ve waited my whole life to live here. This is the only place I’ve felt at home.” She motioned to the garden. “I love the combination of old and new. We’re in the middle of the desert, and it’s June. The daytime temperature is among the hottest in the world. Yet this is lovely.” Jamal shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it on a bench next to them. “That’s because there are discreet air-conditioning vents and fans around here. It keeps the temperature down.” “I don’t care. It’s magic, and that’s all that matters to me.” He stared at her for a long time, then shoved his hands into his slacks pockets and asked, “Is that why you came back?” They stood on a stone-paved path. There was a fountain to her left and a lattice covered in vines to her right. She traced one of the leaves. “I didn’t come for the magic, if that’s what you’re asking. I told you, I want to work. Time and the elements are destroying hundreds of ancient texts each year. I want to preserve history so it isn’t lost.” “What about your boyfriend? Wasn’t there someone special you left behind?” He was kidding, right? Boyfriend? Her? She’d been groped a couple of times, but that hardly counted as a meaningful relationship. “Not exactly.” “Then what…exactly?” Was it her imagination, or had Jamal moved closer to her? She looked at him. “Let me be completely clear on the subject. I don’t want to get married.” He was looming, she thought in some distress. Somehow he’d gotten taller, and he now loomed. A dark warrior prince in the night. “To respond with like clearness,” he said seriously, although she would have sworn she saw a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, “I don’t recall proposing.” What was it with the heat on her face? “Yes, well, you might. And I don’t want you to.” “Because you can’t say no?” She pressed her fingers to her cheeks. “Exactly. I promise you that King Givon and Fatima are experts at pushing my buttons. They’ve done it before. When I graduated from college, all I wanted was to come here and work.” “Isn’t that what happened?” “No. Somehow they talked me into attending finishing school.” She sighed in disgust. “Do you know what year it is? Young women should not be attending finishing school in this day and age. It’s horrible.” “But you went.” “Exactly.” She looked at him. “Don’t ask me how it happened. One minute I was telling them I wasn’t interested in the idea and the next I was boarding a plane.” She paused, remembering those conversations two years ago. “I think of myself as a strong person, but maybe I don’t have any backbone. Maybe…” She pressed her lips together as a sudden and unpleasant thought occurred to her. Fatima and the king had been very insistent about her going to finishing school. Before that, they’d both encouraged her to study Middle Eastern politics and history with an emphasis on El Bahar. Her education didn’t exactly prepare her to make her way in the world…unless they’d had a very specific job in mind. She sucked in a breath. “Oh, no! They’ve been planning this for years .” “Who’s been planning what?” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Jamal, you have to believe me. The king and your grandmother want us to marry. I just realized they’ve been preparing me for the role of your wife.” She thought about the exclusive all-girls boarding school she’d attended before her women’s college. Had they influenced her grandfather to arrange that? “Maybe for longer than I thought.” She was so damn earnest, Jamal thought with amusement. Heidi looked up at him with her big eyes and her trembling mouth, acting as if her revelation was going to change the course of history. “You’re saying they sent you to the closest equivalent of Princess School?” Her nose got scrunchy. “You’re mocking me, but this is serious. I do not want to marry you.” “You’ve got to stop flattering me, Heidi. It goes to my head.” “Oh, don’t be such a man. I’m not being insulting. I can’t imagine you want to marry me, either. In fact this isn’t about you.” “If we’re discussing marriage between the two of us, then it is about me.” She dropped her hands to her sides and turned away. “You’re being deliberately obtuse.” She was so frustrated by the situation. Her feelings about avoiding any kind of permanent entanglement were genuine enough to charm him. After spending his entire adult life avoiding women who wanted something from him, how was he supposed to resist a woman who couldn’t care less about his title, his money or his heritage? He had a feeling that Heidi was right—that Fatima and his father had been preparing her to be his bride for some time. He’d made it clear he was in no hurry to marry again, so they wouldn’t have been concerned he would run off and fall in love. Been there, done that, he thought grimly. With disastrous results. He wasn’t anxious to repeat the experience. But he would have to marry. For the sake of the kingdom and because he wanted children. So far Heidi was the front-runner. He held back a grin. He could only imagine how thrilled she would be to hear the news. “What if I said I wouldn’t mind marrying you,” he said as much to tease her as to test the waters. She spun back to face him. “Are you insane? ” she demanded. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. We have nothing in common.” “On the contrary. We have several things in common. We care about El Bahar, both past and present. I’m very interested in preserving our heritage. You know the customs, you enjoy living in the palace. You’re intelligent enough to be able to handle the complexities of living a royal life. I suspect you think I’m handsome, and I find you quite attractive.” The last bit was a stretch, but he’d told worse lies in his time. After all, it was for a good cause. In truth, she wasn’t unattractive , she just needed a little help. She opened her mouth and closed it several times. No sound emerged. He watched the color climb her cheeks. “You’re blushing,” he observed. “No, I’m not. I don’t blush. Never. I don’t live an embarrassing life, so why would I blush?” Even so, she ducked her head and pressed the back of her hand against her cheek. “Would it be so very terrible?” he asked. “Yes!” She glared at him. “Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you running screaming in the opposite direction? I’ve just told you that your father wants you to marry a stranger, and you don’t seem to care.” “I care. I just don’t think it’s the end of the world. There are worse fates.” “Like what? Being buried alive? Being eaten by bloodsucking bats?” He winced. “You’re right, Heidi. You don’t cater to the male ego. As my wife, you’d have to work on that.” She stomped her foot. “Read my lips, Prince Jamal Khan of El Bahar. I am never, ever going to marry you. Not in this life, not in the next life, not even for a day. No. Not me. And that’s final.” “Want to bet?” Jamal grinned, then stepped close to her. He slipped one arm around her waist and slid the other around her shoulders. Instantly her body went stiff, and her mouth dropped open with shock. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked as she pressed her hands flat against his chest. “Finding out if that mouth of yours is good for anything but tossing around insults.” Her hazel eyes flashed with fire. He was afraid the heat just might melt the frames of her glasses. “Don’t even think about it,” she told him. “I’m not interested in you in that way. I don’t enjoy physical contact. I will only ask this once, sir. Unhand me.” “If you’re only going to ask once, then I’ll only have to answer once. No.” Chapter Three T his was not happening , Heidi thought in amazement. She and Jamal were in the middle of a serious conversation about why they could not possibly marry. He wasn’t actually going to stop talking to kiss her, was he? She swallowed as she realized he very well was. The man was looming again. Apparently he lived to loom. Then there was the matter of her being in his arms. No mistaking that one. She was pressed right up against his rather impressive body. She wanted to complain. She wanted to say that it was unpleasant or icky or that she really wanted him to stop. The problem was, it wasn’t unpleasant. For one thing, heat seemed to flow from him to her, settling in rather unusual places. Her stomach was not as calm as it could be, and where her breasts accidentally brushed against his chest…well, they were extremely hot and sensitive in the most peculiar way. She wasn’t even going to think about how her legs suddenly felt weak. She stood with her hands at her sides, but she had the strongest urge to raise her arms until she could touch his shoulders or maybe even his hair. But she didn’t. For one thing, she wasn’t interested in kissing or anything remotely physical. For another, she didn’t know what to do. Kissing had not been a big part of her life. “Relax,” Jamal told her, his voice filled with laughter. “I’m not going to eat you.” “I’m relaxed.” “Heidi, if you were any stiffer, we could iron clothes on your back.” He shook her gently. “Deep breaths.” “I do not need instructions from you, thank you very much. I know exactly what I’m doing.” “Liar. You need instructions from someone, and I’m the only one here.” Was her inexperience that obvious? More heat flared on her cheeks. Fine, so maybe she was blushing. But it wasn’t her fault. The situation was entirely intolerable. “If you would just release me, we could continue our conversation.” “I don’t want to talk. I want to kiss you. Now say my name.” She blinked. He’d said it. He’d actually said the “K” word. Kiss! She hadn’t misread the situation. And just a minute before, Jamal had said he found her attractive. No man ever had before. She knew she wasn’t really the attractive type. She didn’t know how to be. It was her clothes, her hair, or maybe her glasses. She looked at the magazines and wanted to make a change, but she didn’t know how to translate what they were doing on the page to something she would be comfortable in. It had always been easier not to try. The same with men. She’d held herself back because she’d felt so awkward. Now she was sorry she didn’t have more experience. “What are you thinking?” Jamal asked. Heidi looked at him. “Nothing.” “You’re lying again. I wonder if the king knows about this character flaw.” “Jamal! You’re not helping the situation.” “Actually, I am.” He drew her even closer, which she hadn’t thought possible. “Now say my name again.” “Why?” “Because I like how it sounds.” She glared at him, trying to ignore the way his dark eyes seemed to reflect lights of the stars overhead. Or maybe it was the lamps lining the path. “Why does everything have to be about you?” He grinned, his white teeth flashing in contrast to the shadows on his face. “Because it’s more fun that way.” “I don’t want to do this with you.” “How do you know until you’ve tried it? I happen to be a spectacular kisser.” “I wouldn’t know about that, but I do know you’re a legend in your own mind.” “Don’t be critical until you’ve sampled my charms.” Her heart seemed to be tap dancing inside her chest. She was having trouble breathing. “I’m not interested in your charms.” Instead of responding, he touched her mouth with his thumb and forefinger. “Relax,” he told her. “Let these muscles go. Now say my name.” “Jamal.” She clipped the word at the end, making a tight, very unrelaxed sort of sound. “No. Slowly. Draw it out.” The man was insane. She was insane. She was also starting to enjoy being this close to him. He was strong and broad, and oddly enough, he actually made her feel safe. “Jamal,” she repeated, closing her eyes and speaking as he’d requested. She waited. But instead of hearing how she’d done, there was the lightest, sweetest pressure against her mouth. He was kissing her. Kissing her! Heidi’s eyes popped open. She couldn’t believe it. She’d never really had a kiss before. Not from an eligible man. Certainly never by someone with Jamal’s reputation. If the tabloids could be believed, he’d made love to more women than James Bond, and then some. But there he was, holding her close. She couldn’t see much of his face, but his right eye appeared to be closed. She closed hers again and concentrated on the feel of his lips against hers. He was warm and soft in a kind of firm way. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact she felt a distinct increase in the heat between them. He cupped the back of her head. His fingers were strong, yet gentle. The arm around her waist held her firmly, but she didn’t feel trapped. Mostly, the kiss was very nice. She liked how he moved back and forth, as if he had to learn all about her mouth. Maybe she should put her hands on his shoulders or something. “Relax,” he murmured. “I am relaxed.” “No. Your mouth is puckered.” She concentrated and realized her lips were pursed together, like a child waiting for a kiss from a parent. This time the heat didn’t just flare on her face. It raced through her body and made her want to bolt for safety. “Don’t even think about it,” he told her, tightening his grip on her waist. “Just think about saying my name.” She was about to protest that this couldn’t all be about him, when his lips returned to hers. This time she tried to focus on relaxing. Mentally, she said his name over and over until her mouth formed the word. As she did so, something warm and damp and very exciting brushed across her lower lip. A shiver rippled through her. It started at the top of her head and worked its way down to her toes. In its wake, it left a very distinct kind of trembly weakness. Her breasts felt funny and there was heat between her thighs. Was this passion? Was this— He swept her lower lip again, then moved his tongue into her mouth. The combination of heat, pleasure and excitement caught her completely off guard. She didn’t remember raising her hands, but suddenly her fingers were pressing against his shoulders. She wanted to be closer to him. She wanted the hot jolts of fire to never stop zinging through her. She surged forward, circling her tongue around his, all the while wondering why no one had ever told her kissing was like this. Over and over they touched and moved and danced in a way that left her breathless. His hands stayed still on her back, even though she wished he would rub them up and down her body. She wanted more of what it was they were doing. She wanted— Jamal broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “See,” he said, his breathing a little heavier than it had been a couple of minutes before. “Not so horrible.” She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I suppose not. It was a very nice kiss.” “Thank you for your kind words.” His voice sounded funny. “I meant that most sincerely,” she assured him. “Really.” He straightened. “I believe you.” His gaze was dark and intense. Heidi fought against the awkwardness flooding her, but she was as inexperienced with the post-kissing moment as she had been with the actual kissing itself. Given a choice, she preferred the kissing. “Did you want to do that again?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Jamal took a step back. “I think we’ve both had about all we can handle for one night.” He glanced around the garden. “It’s probably safe for you to escape to your suite now.” At first his words didn’t make any sense. Then she remembered the dinner and how the king and Fatima wanted her to marry Jamal. Somehow the prospect wasn’t quite so daunting. She gave him a shy smile. “I guess I should go back to my room, then.” He nodded, which disappointed her greatly. Didn’t he want to kiss her again? Hadn’t he liked it? Heidi drew in a deep breath. She didn’t know enough to be able to answer her own question, and she wasn’t brave enough to ask him. Which meant she was left in the dark. Oh joy. So she whispered a quick good-night and left the garden. Nothing about the evening had turned out the way she’d thought, although that wasn’t all bad. Jamal had been…very special, she thought with a sigh. He was funny, charming and a great kisser, although her frame of reference on the latter was limited to a sample of one. On the walk back to her room, she replayed the details of their kiss at least twice and was well on her third mental reenactment when she walked into her living room, only to find Fatima waiting for her. “You’ve been with Jamal,” the king’s mother said by way of greeting. “He’s a charming young man.” Heidi paused in the foyer of her suite and tried to collect her thoughts. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. What she wanted was to escape to the privacy of her own room where she could relive the wonderful, confusing, exciting evening and try to figure out what it all meant. “He’s very nice,” Heidi hedged. “But that doesn’t mean I want to marry him.” Fatima rose from her seat on the sofa and held out her hands. “Come here, child.” Heidi reluctantly did as she requested. When she was close enough, the queen reached out and grasped her fingers. “I have known you since you were a little girl,” Fatima began. “I remember how proud your grandfather was when he first brought you here to meet us.” The older woman smiled at the memory. “You were so bright and pretty, not the least bit afraid of anything. You climbed up on my lap and demanded that I tell you a story. Right then you stole my heart. I had no daughters or granddaughters to love and spoil. I’ve had to make do with the daughters of friends. Now I have Dora, Khalil’s wife. I had so hoped I would also have you.” Heidi swallowed, but the motion didn’t dislodge the knot of guilt in her throat. “Don’t do this to me,” she moaned as she tugged free of Fatima’s touch and took two steps back. “You and the king have been wonderful to me. My parents died when I was so young that I don’t remember them at all. While I grew up, Grandfather was always there for me, as were you and King Givon. I appreciate that. I would do anything to repay you your many kindnesses. But please don’t ask me to marry Jamal. I don’t want to marry anyone. I just want to work on the texts and live quietly in the palace.” Fatima sank onto the sofa and patted the cushion next to hers. Her actions were so like the king’s earlier that day. Heidi felt as if she was being drawn steadily into a trap from which there was no escape. Reluctantly, she moved forward and perched on the edge of the couch. “You are the kind of woman who needs to be married,” Fatima said kindly. “Not because you must have someone to make decisions for you, or because you couldn’t find your own happiness, but because you’ve spent your entire life wanting to belong. I know your grandfather was a wonderful man, and he loved you with all his heart, but Edmond was not prepared to raise a girl. He recognized his limitations. That was why he traveled with you in the summer and sent you away to the boarding school for the rest of the year. So that you would have the best of both worlds.” Heidi didn’t want to talk about her grandfather. Even though he’d been gone six years, she still missed him desperately. As for wanting to belong—how had Fatima guessed her fondest wish? “You’ve always wanted a home,” the queen continued. “Roots, a family of your own. I know you dream of having children. Don’t you see? With Jamal you can have all of that and more. You can be close to me, the daughter I’ve always wanted. This is El Bahar, my child. Your home. Come be a part of the history you love so much. Be one of the royal princesses. Have babies so that I might hold your child—my great-grandchild—in my arms before it is my time to go.” She was drowning. Heidi felt herself sinking slowly under the weight of Fatima’s argument. The combination of guilt and dream-fulfillment was more than she could resist. She’d warned Jamal that she would be unable to turn him down if he asked, so she could only hope he was stronger than she. “I don’t want to get married,” she said weakly, making a last-ditch attempt to hold her own against one of the most formidable women in the world. “If I did, it wouldn’t be to someone like Jamal. He’s too much of a sensualist for me. I would want a mental and spiritual union rather than a physical one. He would never agree to that.” “A spiritual union isn’t going to do much to get you pregnant,” Fatima said blandly. “You might have to rethink that expectation. As for Jamal and his reputation with women…” The queen smiled. “You’re going to have to trust me when I say it’s not a bad thing. Having a husband who is experienced in the marriage bed can make for a very happy union.” Heidi wrinkled her nose. They were talking about sex. People made such a big deal out of that. She’d never understood why. It was a biological function, like sneezing. It did not have any mystical power to transform. When the time came, she would happily endure whatever was necessary so that she could have a baby, but she certainly didn’t expect to enjoy herself. In fact… A memory teased at the edge of her mind. Then, before she could stop herself, she found herself caught up in a flashback of Jamal’s kiss. Until this night she’d always thought the concept of tongues touching to be, at the very least, disconcerting, at the worst, gross. But now, having experienced that particular pleasure, she knew it was something she wanted to do again. Was sex like that? Was she, due to her lack of practical knowledge, missing the point? Fatima patted her hand, then rose to her feet. “Just think about it,” she said. “Nothing has to be done tonight.” Heidi didn’t think anything had to be done ever, but she kept her opinion to herself and politely bid the older woman good evening. Then she was finally alone. She curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes. Smiling to herself, she drifted into the memory of her time in the garden and the magic that was Jamal’s kiss. “Did you do it?” Jamal clicked several more keys on his computer, then glanced up and saw Malik lounging in the doorway to his office. “Did I do what?” Jamal asked. Malik raised his eyebrows. “Our bet. Did you get the Prune Princess to crack a smile? Because there’s no way I’m going to believe you actually kissed her. In fact, I’ve already picked out which of my mares I want your stallion to cover.” Jamal stiffened slightly. Malik wanted to know about last night. He couldn’t believe it, but what had started out as a simple way to annoy his older brother had turned into something more. He’d forgotten he’d been trying to kiss Heidi to win a bet. The real reason he’d taken her in his arms the previous night had been because he’d wanted to. He found her intriguing, charming and very funny. He’d also enjoyed kissing her, despite her lack of experience. Not that her kissing technique mattered, he told himself. He had kissed her and therefore won the bet. He opened his mouth to tell his brother, then stopped himself. For reasons that made no sense to anyone—least of all him—he didn’t want Malik to know what had happened. As if that silly kiss had meant something. “She’s not horrible,” he said at last. “She’s bright and has a sense of humor.” Malik straightened. “You’re talking about Heidi McKinley, right?” He held up his hand at shoulder level. “About this tall. Glasses, hair back in a bun, ugly clothes.” “They’re not ugly. She’s lacking in fashion sense, but she has potential.” Malik didn’t look convinced. “You’d have to do some pretty deep digging. I’ll admit no one would ask her to wear a bag over her head, but she’s no beauty.” “Just because her attractiveness isn’t glaring and obvious doesn’t mean it’s not there.” Malik swore. “You like her,” he accused. “Dammit, Jamal, the woman is a stick-in-the-mud. Didn’t she give you that scrunchy-nose glare thing she does?” He smiled. “Yes. It’s charming.” “She poisoned you or something. Do you feel sick? Did you fall and hit your head? You can’t tell me that you actually don’t mind spending time with her.” “I don’t.” Malik glared at him. “You’ve dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Are you telling me that Heidi McKinley stands up to them?” Jamal was saved from answering by the appearance of his father and grandmother. They moved past Malik and stepped into his office. Malik glanced from his relatives back to Jamal. “This looks serious. I’ll be leaving. But don’t think we aren’t going to finish this conversation,” he promised. “I want to know what’s wrong with you.” He left, closing Jamal’s door behind him. The king and Fatima settled into the two leather chairs on the visitor’s side of his desk. “What does Malik think is wrong with you?” Fatima asked as she smoothed her silk skirt into place. “Nothing important.” As always his grandmother looked lovely. Today she wore a purple dress that emphasized her still-slender shape. The king wore a business suit, as he usually did during the work day. At night or on weekends, he favored the El Baharian traditional garb of cotton pants and a shirt, both covered by a robe. “We’re here about Heidi,” the king began in his usual forthright way. “It is time you remarried, and she is the bride I have chosen for you.” His father didn’t believe in subtle, Jamal thought humorously. It made for short, to-the-point conversations. “There are many advantages to the union,” Fatima said, leaning toward him. “Heidi has a great interest in El Baharian history. She adores the country and understands the customs. Her time in Switzerland has prepared her to handle most of the social functions she’ll be required to attend. She’s healthy, intelligent, and she wants children. On a more personal note, I believe she’s quite fond of you.” “She doesn’t know me well enough to be fond of me or not,” Jamal said. “And that’s not the point. Heidi is, as you’ve pointed out, an intelligent woman. She’s not interested in marrying anyone at this point in her life. She should be free to choose her future husband. Let her have a normal courtship. Let her meet someone and fall in love.” “What’s to say she won’t fall in love with you?” Fatima asked. “You’re a prince in more ways than one.” Jamal smiled at his grandmother, but he didn’t answer the question. In his experience, women didn’t like princes for their great personalities and sparkling wit. Women liked princes because of what they could get, be it money, status, position or power. In all his life, he’d never met a female who was interested in him for himself. He doubted he ever would. “Do you defy me on this?” King Givon asked. Jamal knew he was treading on dangerous territory. “Father, I will abide by your wishes. I understand my duty is to marry and produce heirs. I’m only asking you to reconsider your choice. I spent some time with Heidi last evening and found her to be a lovely young woman. I would hate to see her trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want.” “Even if that marriage is to you?” Especially if it was to him, but he didn’t tell the king that. “I believe she is the right choice,” the king said. He leaned forward and placed his fist on the table. “I am not wrong in this matter.” “You were wrong about Yasmin,” Jamal said flatly. “You were wrong about Malik’s wife.” Fatima glared at him. “You will not speak of her,” she said quickly, meaning Malik’s wife, not Jamal’s. “As for Yasmin, yes, we were both wrong about her, but she is gone. You and El Bahar are well rid of her.” Jamal agreed completely on the idea of being free of Yasmin. Unlike Heidi, Yasmin had wanted nothing more than to be married to a prince. She had adored nearly everything about the life. The only part she’d disliked was him. Unfortunately he’d been young and stupid and hadn’t seen that truth until it was too late. He’d made the mistake of falling in love with his shallow wife. He’d been a fool and had vowed never to make that mistake again. “Don’t do this to Heidi,” he said. “Find me another woman, and I’ll gladly marry.” “No,” the king said, rising to his feet. “She is the one. The wedding will be at the end of the month.” His father swept out of the room. Jamal turned his attention to his grandmother. “Can’t you talk to him?” “I don’t want to. Heidi is the perfect choice for you.” She smiled. “Ask her, Jamal. I don’t believe she’ll refuse you.” He wanted to beg her to refuse him, Jamal thought three days later as he and Heidi walked in the same garden where they’d shared their first kiss. For the past seventy-two hours, he’d tried to figure a way out of the situation, but he could not. He’d avoided both her and his family, but that hadn’t been enough. Just that morning the king had brought him a glittering diamond ring. The implication was clear. Jamal could refuse his father’s wishes. He’d defied him enough in the past—especially when he’d been a teenager. But those rebellions had been over small matters, never issues that affected the well-being of his beloved El Bahar. A prince owed his country heirs. A son owed a father obedience. Those truths had been taught to him from the cradle. He might have many flaws, but he knew his duty. So tonight he walked beside a young woman that he had—for a brief time—liked. The irony of the situation reflected the blackness of his soul. As long as Heidi didn’t want him, she proved that she was not interested in all a prince had to offer. Then he was free to enjoy her company. To talk with her, perhaps even be her friend. But the second she agreed to marry him, she became like the others—greedy, grasping, determined to be a princess in every sense of the word. He’d spent the past three days avoiding her in an effort to convince himself that she wasn’t like them. That perhaps they had a chance at a happy marriage. But now, walking with her, his doubts returned. He would ask—she would say yes—and all would be lost. “Did you plan on talking this evening, or is this a silent walk?” she asked. “I’m only curious because I don’t want to violate the ground rules, whatever they may be. If conversation is allowed, then I’d love to tell you about what I found today. It’s actually a series of love letters sent by an El Baharian general back to his bride.” She stopped walking and stared up at him. Her eyes were bright with excitement behind the frames of her glasses. Her loose-fitting yellow dress did nothing to flatter her face or her body, but she still radiated a kind of quiet attractiveness that made him wish to see her in silk and lace…or maybe nothing at all. Nothing at all? He wasn’t sure where that thought had come from, and he quickly pushed it away. He wasn’t interested in Heidi that way. “They were so beautiful, but so sad,” she said. “He spoke of the horrors of battle, of missing her, and how he longed to see her now that he knew she was pregnant.” She pressed her hands together in front of her chest. “The worst part is, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find out what happened to him. I don’t know if I can stand that. Did he make it home? Did he survive to see her and his child? The point is, I think there should be a registry of some kind tracing military leaders. Sort of a data bank. What do you think?” The moonlight illuminated her pale skin. She bit her lip as she waited for his answer, which made him think of biting it as well. He’d enjoyed kissing her. He’d enjoyed talking with her. He didn’t want that to change. “I think you should tell me no,” he said. Heidi blinked twice, then lowered her hands to her sides. “Oh, Jamal. When everyone left me alone for the past couple of days I sort of hoped I’d been worried for nothing.” “I’m afraid not.” She touched his arm. “Then don’t ask me. If you don’t ask, I won’t have to reply. You can tell them it wouldn’t possibly work. You can say that we aren’t suited.” “I already tried that.” He searched her face. Pity. He had a feeling they could have gotten along quite well. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the diamond solitaire the king had left in his room that morning. The four-carat stone winked in the moonlight. He took her left hand in his. “Heidi McKinley, I am Jamal Khan, Prince of El Bahar. I am asking you to marry me. To be my wife and princess of this great country. To bear my sons and daughters.” He stopped. The speech he’d practiced earlier was longer, but he forgot the rest of it. Probably because Heidi had started to cry. She brushed at the tears on her cheek. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say.” “Tell me no.” Her hazel eyes met his. “I can’t. I owe them too much.” “What about what you owe yourself?” “I could say the same thing to you,” she said. “I hate being dutiful.” “Me, too.” She drew in a deep breath. “Yes, Jamal, I’ll marry you.” He ignored his disappointment and slid the ring onto her finger. Then he leaned close and kissed her cheek. She stared at the diamond. “It’s very big.” “Do you like it?” “I don’t know. I’ve never been a jewelry person.” She offered an insincere smile. “Thank you.” Oddly enough, her lack of enthusiasm made him feel a lot better. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad. While he didn’t know Heidi that well, on the surface she was nothing like Yasmin. That would help. “We should talk about the marriage,” he said. “If we approach the situation logically, we should be able to find some common ground. Each getting what we want, that sort of thing.” “All right.” Heidi glanced around, then pointed to a small bench tucked into a vine-covered alcove. “Although it’s going to be tricky to each get what we want when neither of us wants to be married.” “We’re both reasonably intelligent adults. We’ll manage.” She settled onto the bench. “I have to warn you, Jamal. I’m more than reasonably intelligent. Actually I get quite impatient when I have to deal with stupid people.” “I’ll remember that.” “Not that I meant to imply you were stupid.” “I didn’t think so.” “I’m sure you’re quite bright. For a man.” He sat next to her. “Do you want to change the subject before you dig yourself a deep pit?” She sighed. “Probably a good idea.” She wiggled on the stone bench, then turned to face him. “So, what do you want from our marriage?” He thought for a moment. “I want to be friends.” “Oh, that’s good. All right. Friends. What else?” “We’ll have to have children, but I think we should wait. Get to know each other better.” Heidi’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She cleared her throat several times. “Yes, that would be wise. Waiting, I mean. Children are something of a strain on a relationship. Or so I’ve heard.” Whatever else might happen, she had the ability to make him laugh, Jamal thought in relief. Although he was careful not to let her see that he was amused. He knew she wouldn’t understand. Heidi was so innocent as to be an anachronism. But he didn’t mind that. When the time was right, he would be patient with her. The thought of making love with her was intriguing, and he found himself caught up in wondering what she looked like without her dreadful clothes. From the little he saw of her body, she seemed to have all the right parts. Despite his reputation for being a ladies’ man, he didn’t insist on physical perfection in his women. He preferred enthusiasm and humor to a perfect pair of thighs. “I want to keep working,” she told him. “I love what I do, and I’m only just getting started. You won’t get all Neanderthal on me and insist I keep our suite clean or anything, will you?” “The palace has servants for that. You may do as you wish with your day. Although there will be some official functions that require your presence.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Don’t talk about that. It will make me more nervous than I already am.” “You should know what to expect. Don’t worry. Fatima and Dora will help you.” She nodded. “Yes, well, I’ll think about that another time. There is another matter.” She paused just long enough to let him know she was embarrassed by whatever it was she was about to say. “Go on,” he prompted. “You won’t like it.” “Say it anyway.” “All right. It’s about your women. I would prefer you didn’t have any.” He knew what she was getting at but he pretended ignorance. “Any what?” “Women. Mistresses. Lovers. Whatever you want to call them. You have a reputation, Jamal. I won’t be made a fool of.” “I see. You want exclusivity.” Color flared on her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “I expect you to respect me and our vows.” “What about my animal passions? Will you be able to satisfy them?” “A-animal passions?” Her voice quivered. “I—I guess I can. Perhaps you could provide written instructions beforehand so I’ll know what to expect.” He coughed to hide a laugh. “No problem. I’ll have my secretary type them up.” “As we’ve already established, I’m very bright. I’m sure I can study them enough to be able to satisfy your…well…you know. And if the act doesn’t seem overly appealing to me, I’ll simply endure.” Her words cut through him like a knife. His humor faded, as did his good mood and any hope that this marriage might be better than his last. Without wanting to, he remembered his beautiful young wife standing naked in front of him, her mouth twisted in disgust as she stared at his arousal. “You’re an animal,” she’d said. “I don’t understand why I have to endure you touching me all the time. I hate it, and I’m not very fond of you.” He pushed the memory away, but the feelings it evoked remained. He rose to his feet. “I will not trouble you more than necessary,” he said through gritted teeth. Heidi frowned. “Jamal, what’s wrong? What did I say?” “Nothing but the truth. Come. Let us tell my father and grandmother the good news.” “All right.” Heidi still sounded troubled, but she trailed after him. He hurried, wanting to get the announcement over quickly. As soon as the congratulations were finished, Fatima would whisk Heidi into the harem where she would stay until their wedding day. They would not be allowed any time alone between now and then. The thought of not seeing her was a relief. If only he never had to see her again—ever. Chapter Four “I ’m going to hyperventilate,” Heidi announced as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the harem. She stared at her reflection and knew this wasn’t really happening. Fatima paused in the act of smoothing out the creamy white robe that covered Heidi as effectively as a shroud. “Hyperventilate. Is that too much oxygen or not enough? I can never remember. One requires breathing into a paper bag, while the other means you should put your head between your legs.” Dora sat on a chair, arranging the folds of the headpiece. “By the time we get it figured out, Heidi will have either passed out or healed.” Heidi tried to smile at the joke, but she couldn’t. The sense of being trapped was too strong to escape, even for a minute. She was really and truly going through with this—she was about to marry a stranger. She certainly looked the part, she thought with amazement, studying the person in the mirror. That woman was as much a stranger as Jamal. The white robe covered her from the top of her collarbone to the tips of her toes. In back, it fanned out like a bridal-gown train. Instead of being neatly contained in its usual tidy bun, her hair was long and loose, falling nearly to her waist. Fatima had lined her eyes with kohl and added color to her lips, which emphasized both features in a way that was oddly attractive, Heidi thought, but also unfamiliar. Then there was the matter of her hands and feet. She lifted one hand and stared at the henna on her fingers and palms. The intricate patterns were traditional in an El Baharian wedding, as in many parts of the world. They marked her as a bride. For as long as the stain lingered on her skin, the bride was considered on her honeymoon. She would not be asked to participate in any household chores. For Heidi the fading of the henna wasn’t going to make much difference in her day-to-day life. As a princess, she wouldn’t do any cooking or cleaning. But for regular women—the loss of the henna was a time of sadness. The magic of the honeymoon then faded to just a memory. Heidi actually managed a smile as she thought of the great lengths women would go to keep their henna from disappearing. “You look lovely, child,” Fatima said, smiling at her. “How do you feel?” “As if I’m entering history,” Heidi replied honestly. She turned slightly so that she could catch sight of more of the wedding robe in the mirror. Intricately embroidered gold designs were scattered across the back of the garment, stretching from the hem of the train nearly to the small of her back. With each royal wedding, another picture was added. They represented something unique about each bride joining the Khan family. “I know enough about the customs to understand the significance of the robe and the ceremony. I feel connected with the past.” That much was true. Now if only she felt more connected with her husband. Since agreeing to marry him nearly two weeks before, she’d been living in the harem. She and Jamal hadn’t spent a single moment alone together. She’d spent her days working on her precious texts and taking riding lessons. She’d seen Jamal only twice, and both times had been at family dinners. Dora rose and moved toward her, carrying the headpiece. The gold tiara-like crown anchored several yards of tulle. When Heidi approached her groom, every inch of her would be covered. “I hate that robe,” Dora said cheerfully. “Not only did I have to rip out my stitches about fifteen dozen times, but I pricked myself even more.” She laughed. “So much for my innate sewing skills. Still, I think the design came out very well.” Heidi glanced down at the new pattern. This was rested near her hip. It was an intricate rendering of the El Baharian medal of honor—the same medal that had been awarded to Edmond, Heidi’s grandfather, for all his help during the Second World War. As the most recent bride in the family, Dora’d had the responsibility of sewing the next design on the wedding robe. She and Jamal had discussed several options before settling on the medal. Despite being the bride, Heidi hadn’t been allowed any say in the matter. She doubted Jamal could have picked a design that would please her more. “It’s lovely,” Heidi said, trying not to think about her grandfather because she would cry and Lord knew what would happen to her makeup then. Fatima read her mind. “Edmond would have been very proud of you this day,” she said. “He always wanted you to join the House of Khan.” “I know.” Dora took a step back and studied her. “You’re so lovely,” she said. “The perfect bride.” “Thank you,” Heidi said with a sincerity she didn’t feel. She wasn’t the perfect bride, she thought sadly. She was a fraud. She was marrying a man she didn’t know and didn’t love because she didn’t have the backbone to refuse the two people in the world she did love. It was a mess, and she felt like a fraud. Heidi watched as her sister-in-law to-be fussed with the headpiece, then helped Fatima lower it in place. Dora was a confident, beautiful, content woman. She had an adoring husband, work that she loved, one healthy, happy baby and another on the way. Heidi stole a glimpse at the slight rounding of Dora’s stomach. It was the only indication of her four-month pregnancy. So far no official announcement had been made, although Dora had whispered the happy news to her a couple of mornings before. Dora had the perfect life, Heidi thought, trying hard not to envy her. Would she and Jamal ever find that? She had her doubts. It’s not that she disliked him—it was more that she wasn’t prepared to be married to anyone. Worse, she didn’t know him. If only they’d been able to spend more time together. If the few conversations they’d had were any indication, then she and Jamal had the potential to do as he’d requested and become friends. But so far there’d been no opportunity. The main door of the harem swung open, and a young woman entered carrying a tray. Heidi smiled at Rihana, a servant she’d known for several years. “I brought tea,” Rihana said, smiling happily. “To calm the bride and you as well, Queen Fatima.” Fatima reached gratefully for a cup of the steaming liquid. “You’ve saved my life,” she said, then took a sip. “All these details to be worked out in a such a short period of time. I’m getting too old for this.” “Never,” Dora said loyally, reaching for her own cup of herbal brew. “You shame us all with your energy.” Rihana offered Heidi a cup, but she shook her head. The long veil was in place, and she didn’t want to disturb it. Besides, her hands were shaking, and she would probably end up spilling the entire cup down the front of her gown. The dark-haired servant moved next to her. “You are happy to be marrying Jamal, yes? He is the most handsome of the brothers.” “I heard that,” Dora said, her light blue dress swaying gently as she settled into one of the gilded chairs by the dressing area. “Khalil is very handsome, too,” Rihana said quickly. “As is Malik. But Jamal—” She giggled. “He charms the ladies.” “Jamal does have more than his share of female attention,” Fatima admitted. “Of course, all that will change once he’s married.” She patted Heidi’s arm. “Not to worry. He’ll be a faithful and loving husband.” Heidi nodded with a conviction she didn’t feel. Faithful, probably. Jamal had given his word, and she didn’t doubt him. But loving? How could either of them love the other when they’d been forced into marriage through emotional blackmail? She and Jamal had been set up with an impossible task, and if she already didn’t have enough to worry about, there was also the matter of their wedding night. Even though Jamal had mentioned putting off having children, he hadn’t said a word about putting off being intimate. She’d asked him to give up his other women, and in return he’d told her she was required to satisfy his appetites. A shiver rippled through her. The tightness in her chest returned, as did the panic. Be calm, she told herself. That kiss hadn’t been so horrible. Actually it had been very nice. Maybe the rest of it would be nice, too. Or at least not too gross. Fatima put down her teacup. “Rihana, come with me. I want to check the banquet preparations one last time. Dora, you’ll stay with Heidi, won’t you? Talk about something to take her mind off the situation.” “No problem.” Dora waved the older woman away. “Go. Satisfy yourself that everything is going to be perfect. Heidi and I are fine.” Fatima nodded, then left the room with Rihana right behind her. When they were alone, Dora shook her head. “Fatima is a force of nature. I hope I’m exactly like her when I get to be her age. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being like her now.” “I know what you mean,” Heidi said. “I console myself with the thought that she has a lot more practice at all of this.” Dora set down her tea, then rose, and walked over to stand by Heidi. She adjusted the sleeves of her robe. “At least you’re going to understand the ceremony. When Khalil and I married, everything was a blur.” “Knowing the significance of everything being said isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Heidi murmured, hoping her stomach would settle down soon. The churning was getting to her. Dora touched her arm. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to. At the risk of putting myself on the line with my in-laws, I would be happy to get you to the airport.” The kind offer nearly brought Heidi to tears. Despite the possibility of wrinkling her robe or her veil, she hugged Dora close. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I so appreciate that.” “But you’re saying no.” “I have to.” Dora stepped back and studied her. “I’ll accept what you’re telling me. Just know that I’m here for you. I think the two of us will get along very well.” “Me too.” Dora smiled. “It’s not going to be so bad. There are compensations for a new bride in the Khan family. In fact you’ll find out about one tonight.” Heidi forced herself to look amused by the comment, when in fact it made her want to run in the opposite direction and never be heard from again. Dora was just being friendly, she reminded herself. She couldn’t know that the thought of having to be intimate with Jamal was enough to tie her up in knots. Before she had to think of something to say, Fatima bustled back into the room. “Everything is in order,” she announced. “Are you ready?” The wedding passed in a blur, as did the banquet that followed. Safely hidden in her robe and veil, Heidi remained a silent observer to all that happened. One good thing about El Baharian weddings, she thought as she refused an offer of food. Nothing much was expected of the bride except that she show up and be quiet. As a student of El Baharian history, she’d been insulted by the lack of participation by one of the key players. Now as a very nervous, virgin bride, she was thrilled by her simple role. If only she could get through the rest of the night so easily. “Are you ready?” Jamal asked, leaning close and whispering in her ear. “I think we’ve been here long enough.” Heidi was torn. Leaving meant not being here…which was a good thing. She was tired of everyone staring at her. But leaving also meant being alone with Jamal, which wasn’t a good thing. “Sure,” she whispered back, then held out her hand so that he could help her to her feet. Instantly the guests began to call out comments. Khalil’s voice rose above the others as he yelled, “You couldn’t even wait an hour? Watch out, Heidi. Jamal’s going to wear you out.” Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/suzen-melleri/the-sheik-s-arranged-marriage/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.