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Desert Rogues Part 2

The Prince & the Pregnant Princess

The Sheik & the Princess in Waiting

The Sheik & the Princess Bride

The Sheik & the Bride Who Said No

The Sheik and the Virgin Secretary

Susan Mallery

Table of Contents

The Prince & the Pregnant Princess

The Sheik & the Princess in Waiting

The Sheik & the Princess Bride

The Sheik & the Bride Who Said No

The Sheik and the Virgin Secretary

The Prince & the Pregnant Princess

Susan Mallery

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

“H is Royal Highness, King Hassan of Bahania, requests the pleasure of your presence at the marriage of his most precious daughter, Princess Zara.”

Rather than read any further, Cleo Wilson fingered the thick paper and rubbed the raised lettering of the royal family’s crest. How often did a woman like her get an invitation to a royal wedding? Attending would be the social event of a lifetime. She should be wildly excited. Thrilled even. And she would be—just as soon as she stopped having a pressing need to throw up several times a day.

Cleo slumped down in a kitchen chair and thought seriously about banging her head against the table. At least a concussion would be a distraction. Then she reminded herself that she had to stay healthy for the sake of her baby. She rested a hand on her slightly rounded stomach, as if offering comfort and an apology.

“No head banging,” she murmured. “I promise to be sensible.”

Unfortunately, being sensible meant she had to fly to Bahania for her foster sister’s wedding. It meant getting fitted for her maid of honor dress, smiling in such a way that Zara didn’t guess there was anything wrong. It also meant keeping her pregnancy from everyone she ran into, most especially the father of her child.

Somehow she didn’t think that all the deep breathing in the world was going to help her stress level.

It wasn’t supposed to have turned out this way, she reminded herself. At twenty-four she was supposed to have her life together. Or at least maintain an illusion of competence and goal setting. She’d even sworn to herself that she wouldn’t make the mistake of getting involved with an incredibly inappropriate man ever again. So much for that promise.

Four months ago she’d done the unthinkably stupid. Really. It was so dumb she should win an award. She pictured a nameless master of ceremonies opening a red-lacquered envelope: “The Golden Burro for most inappropriate and really dumb sexual relationship on the planet goes to Cleo Wilson, night manager of a local copy shop who not only slept with a royal prince. She accidentally got pregnant by him.”

Two weeks later Cleo flew out of the Spokane airport, en route to Bahania. This trip was very different from the one she’d made nearly six months before with Zara. Then she and her foster sister had been looking into the unbelievable possibility that Zara might be the illegitimate daughter of King Hassan. While Cleo had been the one encouraging Zara to find out the truth, she’d never thought that her sister might actually be a princess. A relative, yes. Royalty, no.

It had taken a few days in the royal palace, followed by someone actually saying the words Princess Zara for Cleo to grasp that the girl she’d once shared a bathroom with was now a member of the Bahanian royal family. While Cleo had been happy for Zara’s good fortune, she’d been left feeling as though she was once again on the outside looking in.

They had begun that trip with high hopes, great expectations and cheap, economy-class seats. Now Cleo found herself heading east on a private jet. And not just any private jet. This wasn’t some eight-seater, executive-class transportation. Nope, she had an honest-to-goodness Boeing 737 all to herself. Instead of a couple hundred other passengers, there was her, two flight attendants, a pilot, copilot and enough food to feed Rhode Island. She knew because she’d checked out the galley on her exploration of the plane before they’d taken off.

In addition to enough supplies to satisfy all her culinary wants, there were two bedrooms, a living room, a dining room, a workout room, three bathrooms—real bathrooms with showers and space to turn around—along with an office area. Cleo settled in the living room and gazed out the window. Later, when her body clock told her it was her bedtime, she would retire to a real bed and, in theory, arrive in Bahania rested and refreshed.

In reality she would toss and turn all night. The lack of sleep would create charming dark circles under her eyes and the on-going morning sickness would make it impossible to enjoy all the desserts the flight attendants had promised to prepare.

Nearly seventeen hours later, after one quick pit stop for gas, they arrived at the Bahanian International Airport. Cleo collected her overnight case and headed for the ramp. Zara and her fiancé, Rafe, stood waiting at the other end.

Zara threw herself at Cleo and hugged her close. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.”

Cleo didn’t dare say any more. Unfortunately, her hormones were doing their darnedest to turn her into a babbling, sobbing idiot every time she saw a sappy commercial on television. Who knew what they would do in this circumstance.

Zara hugged her again, then released her and held her at arm’s length. “You look great,” her sister said.

Cleo laughed. “No. I look like something the cat gacked up. You look great.”

And of course she did. Zara had been blessed with the finest the gene pool had to offer. As if being tall and model slender wasn’t enough, she also had long, dark hair and beautiful brown eyes. Then there was the whole smart-funny-nice thing going on with her. If Cleo didn’t adore her sister, she would have backed the car over her years ago.

As they were technically only foster sisters, Cleo found herself about as far from tall, slender and dark-haired as physically possible. She was short, curvy—okay, plump—with short blond hair that she generally wore sort of spiky. Her lone claim to beauty was her big blue eyes. Zara would say that her big boobs were an asset, too, but Zara would be wrong.

“Hey, little sister,” Rafe said, moving in for his greeting.

Rafe Stryker, American hunk, honorary sheik, rich guy and deeply in love with Zara. Cleo sighed. Some girls had all the luck.

She hugged her brother-in-law to be, then fought back hormonal tears.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said, hating herself for wondering if Sadik had bothered to make the journey to the airport, as well. Not that she had to look around to check. If he’d been there he would have muscled his way to the front and monopolized her attention. He was an arrogant, self-centered, generally annoying guy. So why was she disappointed he hadn’t bothered to come say hi?

Zara linked arms with her as they headed out of the royal family’s private terminal. Cleo knew that her suitcases would have already been put in the trunk of the waiting limo. If only real life could be this good.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Zara said. She motioned for Cleo to slide onto the back seat of the limo first. “The last few months have been hectic. I’ve been spending time with my father, getting to know him.” Zara paused and grinned. “My father. I still can’t believe I’m saying that.”

“It’s pretty great,” Cleo said, and meant it. She was happy that Zara had found her father after a lifetime of wondering who he was. If a part of her was envious, she supposed she would learn to live with it. Unfortunately, she happened to know that her father had died before she’d been born. There wasn’t going to be the same happy ending in her future.

“Then there is all the wedding stuff.” Zara shook her head. “It’s been a planning nightmare.”

Rafe sat in the seat opposite. “I told her we should elope, but would she listen?”

Zara dismissed him with a wave. “He says that now, but he’s pretty excited about the wedding.”

Cleo gave her future brother-in-law a doubtful glance. “He doesn’t look excited. In fact Rafe looks like he’s going to bolt.”

“He might want to, but he wouldn’t leave me.”

Zara’s confidence sent a little ping of envy bouncing through Cleo’s chest. It was intensified when Rafe gave his fiancée a look of such love and devotion that Cleo had to turn away. The moment was too personal and intimate to be shared.

“That’s right,” he said easily. “Zara’s stuck with me for the rest of her life.”

That sounded pretty good to Cleo. Oh, not with Rafe. She thought he was nice and all, but he’d never made her heart beat faster. But with someone. All she’d ever wanted was to be the most important person in someone’s life. As if that was ever going to happen.

“Tell me about the wedding,” Cleo said to change the subject. Her hormones were on overdrive, and she was about three seconds from bursting into tears.

“People are coming from all over the world,” Zara said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It’s crazy, and scary. I like my dress, but the flowers aren’t anything I would have picked. Way too big and ornate. But there are certain flowers we have to use and others we can’t.”

“Tell her about the cake,” Rafe said with a wink that promised a fun story.

Zara launched into a convoluted explanation about flavors, colors and size. Cleo tried to pay attention, but part of her had already skipped ahead to arriving at the palace. While she’d been a little disappointed that Sadik hadn’t come to the airport, she didn’t mind putting off that first meeting. One would think that in the nearly four months they’d been apart she would have been able to recover from a brief two-week affair, but one would be wrong.

She hadn’t been able to forget him. Not for a second. So in addition to keeping everyone from finding out she was pregnant, she had to make sure she was cool and indifferent in his presence. She wasn’t convinced that was even possible, but she had to try. Not so much for the sake of her pride, but because of the baby.

She didn’t know much about Bahanian law, but she suspected everyone would be cranky if they found out she carried Prince Sadik’s baby. After all, she was pregnant with a half-royal offspring. Her worst fear was that they would take the child from her.

So she would act completely normal. And in control. With any luck her morning sickness—which did not confine itself to morning—would continue to fade. In two short weeks she would be leaving Bahania. She would return home to her regularly scheduled life. Just her and her baby. No one the wiser. Probably not even her.

The American Federal Reserve chairman had adjusted the Federal Reserve interest rate. Prince Sadik of Bahania had known the adjustment was coming, but that didn’t make him like it. The international banking community always became unsettled after such an event.

He tapped a few keys on his computer keyboard, transferring fourteen billion dollars from one account to another, then waited for the confirmation. He would not play in the currency market today. Perhaps not tomorrow either—Sadik only played when he could win.

The confirmation flashed on his screen. He hit the key to send it to the printer, then leaned back in his chair. As much as he hated to admit it, his mind was not on his work. Handling the royal family’s private fortune along with consulting with the Bahanian government’s finance minister generally kept him well occupied, but not today. Today his mind was on a night of passion that, after four months, should have faded. Unfortunately, it had not.

Even after all this time apart, he could recall every moment he had spent with Cleo.

Sadik rose and crossed to the window overlooking the formal garden that filled the central courtyard of the business wing of the palace. The English roses and hedgerows were as out of place in the desert country as Cleo had been. In a land of dark-haired beauties, Cleo had shimmered like an oasis. Blond to their brunette, fair-skinned to their golden limbs, blue-eyed to their brown. Worse, she was short and far too curvy for his sensibilities. Yes, Cleo was an oasis—lush, tempting and nearly impossible to resist.

Now she had returned. Not to him but for her sister’s wedding. He told himself he didn’t care, that seeing her again wouldn’t bother him. After all, she had walked away from his bed, which made him question her intelligence. He was Prince Sadik of Bahania and she was a mere woman. She should not have been able to leave him. After all no woman dared to abandon his bed until ordered to do so. Except for Cleo.

No matter, he told himself. Her presence in the palace was slightly less than interesting. When she arrived, he would treat her as he would a fly on the wall. As a small annoyance, nothing more. She would be invisible to him. He would not want her. Not ever again.

He returned to his desk and focused his considerable attention on his computer screen. But instead of numbers he saw the body of a woman, and in the deepest part of him he burned.

Cleo walked into the football-field-size foyer of the palace. Everything was as she remembered—huge, luxurious and filled with cats. Parts of the structure dated back nearly a thousand years, and while most of the rooms had been modernized, she still had the sense of stepping into history.

Several of the king’s cats stretched out in front of the large window facing the main entrance. Sunlight illuminated the tiled floor.

Zara paused as Cleo looked around. “How does it feel to be back?” she asked her sister.

Cleo studied the floor. It was decorated with a map of the known world…according to fourteenth-century cartographers…detailed in tiny tiles. She rubbed her toe against the boot of Italy.

“There’s a dreamlike quality to all this,” she admitted. “I can’t reconcile standing in a palace in Bahania to my normal life at home.”

Zara laughed. “Tell me about it. I have the same feeling, and I’ve been a permanent resident for nearly four months. Come on. Let’s get you settled. I’m in the suite of rooms I was in before. I hope you still want to share space.” Zara’s expression turned wistful. “I’ve missed having you around, Cleo.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Rafe walked into the foyer. He held her two carry-on bags. “I’ll have these delivered.”

Cleo chuckled. “Rafe, I know they’re not heavy. Or is it too demeaning for a powerful sheik to carry luggage?”

“Neither. I’m not allowed near Zara’s room.”

Zara’s good humor returned. She led Cleo toward the main hallway. “The king has been very clear about his desire to keep us separate these last few weeks before we get married. I’m guessing he doesn’t want me delivering a baby only seven months after the wedding. Rafe and I managed to sneak away a month ago when we spent that week in London, but since then…” She shrugged. “Let’s just say my fiancé is getting the tiniest bit crabby.”

Cleo tried to laugh along, but Zara’s crack about getting pregnant had hit a little too close to home. What would her sister say if she knew the truth? What would the king say? She shivered slightly, not wanting to go down that road. It was important that she remember to—

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She and Zara were walking down a long corridor that led to the east wing of the palace. Behind them two servants trailed along with Cleo’s luggage. Zara continued to talk about the wedding.

Cleo stopped suddenly and turned. A door opened and a man, a tall man, stepped out from behind it. He walked purposefully, as if he knew exactly where he was going. As if he knew she was standing there.

Sadik.

Cleo sucked in a breath. Her heart seemed to flutter in her chest, and adrenaline poured through her. She tried to remain calm—for the baby, if nothing else—but it was impossible. Every nerve in her body went on alert. She couldn’t see or hear anyone but him.

An unbearable combination of pleasure and pain filled her. Pleasure at seeing him again and pain for how much she’d missed him in the time they’d been apart.

He approached slowly, steadily, as if she were prey he stalked. The man was impossible, she thought frantically. Impossibly tall, impossibly good-looking, impossibly tempting in bed.

The last time she’d been here, desire had overwhelmed good sense. She had hoped that her months away would have given her a little more backbone. Obviously, she’d hoped in vain. Her first impulse was to throw herself into his arms and beg him to take her right there up against the wall in front of God and everyone. Her second impulse was to run.

Sadik paused in front of her. His perfectly tailored suit probably cost more than she’d made in the past couple of months. She didn’t doubt his shoes cost more than her yearly rent. She had nothing in common with this man, and forgetting that would only lead to heartache.

“Cleo,” he said. His low, sexy voice made her break out in goose bumps.

“Sadik. Nice to see you.” She tried for a casual smile and had a feeling that she fell short. Oh, well.

His dark gaze swept over her, starting at the top of her head where he frowned slightly at her spiky blond hair, past her face to her body where he lingered on her breasts and hips.

She didn’t have anyone’s ideal of the perfect figure, unless one studied Rubensian paintings, yet Prince Sadik had made it very clear that he found every inch of her desirable. Even now, just looking at her, he spoke his pleasure in her curves and softness. His desire made her melt. She wanted to beg him to pick up where they’d left off. A last flicker of common sense kept her silent.

Aside from the fact that getting involved with him again would be incredibly stupid, one look at her naked body would tell him there had been some pretty significant changes since they’d last done the wild thing.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. It was a small betrayal of his tension, but it gave Cleo courage. At least she wasn’t the only one hanging on by a thread.

He nodded at Zara, then turned on his heel and returned the way he had come. Cleo was left with the feeling that he’d wanted to check her out—maybe to see if their passion was alive and well, which it was. She wasn’t sure if he’d found that good or bad news.

Chapter Two

“W ell?” Zara asked when they resumed their stroll to the guest quarters. “Any sparks left between you two?”

“Not really,” Cleo lied. “I mean, dating a prince was interesting the first time around, but it’s so not me.” She forced herself to smile. “I’m hardly princess material.”

“You could be.”

“On what planet?”

Zara smiled. “Okay, I get your point. Fitting in here isn’t that easy, and believe me, I’ve been trying for the past four months. I guess the rich and powerful really are different.”

Cleo couldn’t help laughing. “Zara, you’re the college professor in the family and you just now figured that out? There’s something wrong with you.”

Zara grinned. “Hey, I’m a princess. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Excuse me, but I’m your sister. I can do whatever I want.”

Zara sighed and linked arms with Cleo. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s so great to have you here. I finally feel as if I have someone on my side in this crazy place. It’s taken a whole lot longer to adjust than I would have thought.”

“Why are you surprised? You went from being a small-town girl to living in a royal palace, halfway around the world. Oh, and you happened to find your long-lost father and fall in love. That’s hardly a situation designed to make you feel normal.”

“Agreed. While it’s nice to finally find roots, I have to admit I spend most of my time with my head spinning.”

Cleo didn’t doubt it. Just walking the corridors of the royal palace was enough to upset anyone’s equilibrium. They moved past bubbling marble fountains and priceless tapestries. There were statues, paintings, open courtyards, alcoves, anterooms and servants. There were also King Hassan’s cats who were allowed to go anywhere in the palace by royal order of the king. It was not a world designed to make one feel grounded.

“At first I envied you this,” Cleo admitted. “But now I’m not so sure I’d want to be a member of the royal family.”

“You’d get used to it.”

“Maybe.”

Cleo knew that it didn’t matter one way or the other. If all went well, she would be out of here in a couple of weeks. As for her own personal fantasy of home, hearth and family…that wasn’t going to happen.

She shook off her sad feelings before they could blossom into a full-fledged pity party. No time for that, she reminded herself. This was Zara’s special time, and she was determined to do everything she could to make it wonderful.

She glanced at her sister and raised her eyebrows. “Don’t forget your promise. I want first chance at all your jewelry castoffs. Anytime you get tired of your diamonds or sapphires, pass them my way.”

Zara laughed. “I promise. And if I find an old tiara lying around somewhere, I’ll send it over.”

Cleo fingered her short, spiky hair. “I’d look good in a tiara. Maybe it would make me look taller.” She had a sudden image of herself at her job in Spokane. There she would be, manning the copy machine, dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and a tiara. It would certainly get the customers talking.

The image was both comical and tragic. Fortunately, they reached their room before hormones could overwhelm her. She might be able to explain her slight weight gain, but sudden bouts of sobbing would definitely get Zara’s attention.

Zara opened the door to the suite and stepped inside. Cleo walked into the open space.

“It’s just like I remember,” she said, taking in the cream-colored walls and the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and doors with a view of the Arabian Sea. The water was as beautiful as she remembered.

“Not bad,” she said, glancing at the deep-blue-and-rose tapestries decorating the walls, and the comfortable sofas and chairs that made up a large seating area in the center of the room.

“Everything is as you left it,” Zara said, pointing to the right.

Cleo walked toward the room she’d called home for a couple of weeks. This time she was prepared for the luxury of the four-poster bed in the center of the room. She had double French doors that led out onto the balcony that circled the entire palace. An oversize armoire held a television and DVD unit. If she remembered correctly, the bathroom was stocked with enough shampoo, lotions and soaps to fill a boutique.

“Nice work if you can get it,” she murmured under her breath.

She recalled the last time she’d been here. Everything had overwhelmed her. Zara had been the prodigal daughter, while she had been out of place. Now she was the not-quite-sister of the bride. Four months ago she’d been on the adventure of a lifetime. Now she was in dangerous territory with a whole lot more to lose.

Zara leaned against the door frame. “You’re looking serious. Should I be worried?”

Cleo forced herself to smile. “No. Everything is great. I hope Rafe is prepared to give you surroundings this nice after you’re married.”

Zara’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I’ve told him that my father has set very high standards. He’s going to have to scramble to keep up.” Her expression softened. “Cleo, no offense, but you look exhausted. Do you want to crawl into bed and not worry about anything until tomorrow?”

Cleo nodded gratefully. Pregnancy had zapped most of her energy. “I didn’t sleep on the plane last night. Between getting ready to go on vacation and closing up my apartment, I didn’t get much rest the night before. So I’m pretty tired. Would you mind if I just hid out until morning?”

“Not at all.” Zara walked over and hugged her. “Thanks for coming. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Cleo spoke the truth. She knew the danger of returning to Bahania. If anyone found out about her pregnancy, she was in deep trouble. But staying away would have meant disappointing Zara, and Cleo couldn’t do that. Not after all they’d been through together.

The downside of taking a nap was being unable to sleep when one wanted to. Cleo turned over in bed and stared at the clock. It was nearly midnight and she felt more restless than tired. Maybe a snack would help. Or even just breathing in the sea-scented air.

After wrapping herself in her robe, she walked barefoot into the living room of the suite she and Zara once again shared. Her sister had arranged for a tray to be delivered around seven that evening. Cleo had taken two bites and had promptly thrown it all up. Now she nibbled cautiously on a sandwich half. It tasted good, and the knot in her stomach seemed to ease.

There wasn’t any light showing in Zara’s room. Cleo wondered if her sister had returned from her evening dining with the family or if she was out with Rafe. Maybe the two of them had managed to sneak off together. Cleo sighed. Zara and Rafe looked blissfully happy together. While she was glad her sister had found the man of her dreams, she couldn’t help wishing a little of that fairy dust had been sprinkled in her direction. But no. Instead of true love, she’d found a quickie affair with a prince who might still want her but had obviously done just fine without her in the four months she’d been gone. After all, he hadn’t tried even once to get in touch with her.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. Think about something cheerful, like the fact that her stomach had settled down. She ate the rest of the sandwich half and washed it down with a glass of water. Next she sampled the fruit, which was exotic and delicious.

Feeling almost cheerful, she headed for her bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and tried to figure out if someone could tell she was pregnant just by looking at her face. Fortunately, no one had tattooed a sign to her forehead. She was safe, for the moment.

Cleo returned to her bedroom but still didn’t feel sleepy, so she headed out onto the balcony. The French doors opened easily. As she stepped into the coolness of the autumn evening, she inhaled the sweet scents of the flowers in the garden, along with the salty smell of the ocean. Back home the leaves were turning as winter beckoned, but here the days were balmy and beautiful.

She could hear the chirps and clicks of night creatures, along with the faint sounds from the waves. Just like a dream, she thought with a lazy smile. Only, this time she knew that dreams could occasionally have unhappy endings. The last time she’d stood on this balcony alone in the night, she’d wished for a handsome prince with whom to share the moment. Now she knew better. Handsome princes were great guys…from a safe distance.

An out-of-place sound caught her attention. She turned and saw someone moving in the shadows. Her heart jumped. Not out of fear but out of recognition. She didn’t have to see his face to recognize the man. Speak of the devil.

Sadik walked toward her, moving into the light of the small lamp just to the left of her bedroom door. He didn’t say anything as he approached, which was just as well, for her throat had gone dry at the sight of him.

He wore jeans and a polo shirt—casual dress. There was nothing unusual about that, except Sadik was a prince and she’d never seen him in anything but a business suit or a tuxedo. Or in nothing at all.

Don’t go there, she told herself. Thinking about Sadik being naked was incredibly dangerous…especially given her current circumstances.

He stopped less than two feet from her. His expression didn’t give anything away, but she had the distinct impression he wasn’t happy to see her. He stood at least six feet tall, which meant it was too darned easy for him to tower over her.

A trickle of apprehension made her want to step back. Rather than give in, she did what she always did best. Think with her mouth.

“I have to say, you loom better than anyone I know,” Cleo said, leaning against the railing and striving for casual. “Is it something tall men do instinctively or is it more of a princely art?”

His gaze narrowed. “You still have not learned to curb your tongue. As a woman, you should know better.”

She rolled her eyes. “You left out the word mere, and that’s what really gives the sentence its spice. As a mere woman, I should know better.”

“Exactly.”

His agreement didn’t make her feel very charitable or friendly. “Sadik, you’ve got to get some different material. It’s the new millennium. Women now have brains and we use them. Or didn’t you get the memo?”

He seemed to loom a little more aggressively. “I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. You will not speak to me this way. You must learn your place.”

“Last time I checked, my place was about ten feet away.” She nodded toward her room. “So I do know it, and I have to say, it’s lovely.”

He took a half step closer, which made him way too close. Then he glared at her and growled. Cleo couldn’t believe it. There was an honest-to-goodness growling noise in his throat.

A shiver tripped up her spine and made her shiver. On the one hand she was pleased to know that she could still bug him. On the other hand, being this close to him made it hard to think and to breathe. Not a good combination.

He glared at her, and she glared right back. No way was she going to let him know how much he’d hurt her. There had been at least 120 nights since she’d last seen him, and she would bet she’d cried herself to sleep at least seventy of them. Which made her mad at both him and herself.

The trick was to make sure he never found out that he had ever mattered. Oh, and not to let him know she was pregnant.

“When do you plan to apologize for leaving my bed?” he asked.

The question stunned her. She stared at him for several seconds as the words chased themselves around in her head. Was he crazy? It was a horrible time to suddenly remember she wore panties, a nightgown and a robe. Little protection against Sadik’s masculine charms.

“I have nothing to apologize for. I was ready to end things, so I left.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “No woman leaves my bed without being asked.”

His arrogance really got on her nerves. “Apparently that’s not completely true, as I left before you asked. And while we’re on the subject of apologies, where’s mine?”

The tight jaw muscles twitched. “For what?”

He spoke through clenched teeth. It was a neat trick, she thought.

“Why am I not surprised that you don’t get it,” she said more to herself than to him. “It’s so typically male.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You gave me jewelry, Sadik. After we made love, you offered me expensive gifts. It’s not like we had an actual relationship and cared about each other.” Okay, she’d cared about him, but he didn’t have to know that. “It was a little too much like leaving money on the nightstand. I may not be a royal princess, but that’s no excuse to offer payment for services.”

She had the pleasure of seeing Sadik look completely stunned. His jaw unclenched, and for a second she thought his mouth might drop open.

“Those gifts were not a payment,” he said, obviously seething with barely controlled rage. “They were an expression of my honor at the treasure being offered.”

Cleo had to turn that sentence over a couple of times before it made anything close to sense. By treasure did he actually mean sex? “In case you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t a virgin. There wasn’t any treasure involved. Which you knew, by the way, because we talked about it before we—”

He kissed her. Cleo was unprepared, and Sadik moved so quickly she didn’t have any warning. One second she’d been talking and the next, he took her in his arms and drew her close.

The feel of his strong body against her own caused all the air to rush from her lungs. She gasped to catch her breath, which left her vulnerable. At least, that’s what she told herself when she decided not to put up a struggle as his mouth settled on hers.

It had been too long, she thought hazily, caught in the grip of instant and mind-numbing passion. Every nerve in her body caught fire as sensual heat rushed through her, making her want to tear off her clothes and have him touch her everywhere.

He settled his mouth more firmly on hers, then ran his tongue across her lower lip. Shivers raced up and down her arms. Her extrasensitive breasts swelled uncomfortably. All this and he hadn’t even put his tongue in her mouth. She didn’t think she would be able to stand that.

He read her mind, she thought, both aroused and distressed as he swept into her mouth. At the first touch she knew she was lost. The familiar pattern of their intimate dance came back to her in a heartbeat. Remembered passion joined present passion, combining, growing, making her strain toward him.

She clung to his broad shoulders, then, unable to help herself, ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. She could inhale the scent of his body, feel his heat, his arousal. The thought of him being inside of her nearly made her weep with desire.

When he put his hands on her hips, she felt herself drifting away. In a matter of seconds she would be lost. He deepened his kiss as he drew his hands higher, to her waist and up to her rib cage.

Several thoughts flashed through Cleo’s mind at once. That she couldn’t emotionally risk giving herself to him again. That if he touched her too much, he might figure out the differences in her body. After all, he’d spent hours learning every inch of her to a level of detail that had left her weak and breathless. That her hormones were doing their thing and she was about forty-five seconds away from a sobbing meltdown.

None of the possibilities made her feel safe, so she forced herself to pull away.

Sadik’s breathing was as rapid as her own. She was gratified to see the fire of need burning in his dark eyes. At least the wanting hadn’t been all one-sided. Neither of them said anything. She suspected they were both waiting for the other person to speak first. She knew he was strong enough to outwait her, although she gave the staring contest a try.

“I’m not doing this,” she said at last when it became apparent they could be at it all night. “The only reason I’m here is that my sister is getting married. If you have an itch, I suggest you could find someone else who’s actually interested to scratch it for you.”

The implication that she wasn’t interested was an outright lie, but tough times called for tough measures.

Passion faded from his eyes as anger took its place. He didn’t say a word, instead he turned on his heel and stalked away. Cleo slumped against the railing and tried to calm her heart rate. She would say that round had been a draw, which was unfortunate. She really needed a win. She also needed to stay out of trouble.

Instinctively she placed a hand on her stomach. It wasn’t Sadik’s fault that she was still crazy about him. But regardless of her feelings, she didn’t dare give in. The last thing in the world she wanted was for him to find out the truth.

Cleo didn’t fall asleep before dawn, so it was nearly ten when she finally stumbled out of bed and into her shower. An hour later she was “taking breakfast” on the balcony outside of her room.

Everyone should start their day this way, she thought happily. Sunlight burned away the shadows from last night. She felt confident there wouldn’t be any interruptions from a certain handsome prince because he would have long since started his day, leaving her free to admire the view and enjoy her breakfast.

As she’d already thrown up twice, she was ravenous. Warm scones, fruit and herbal tea tempted her appetite. She leaned back in her chair and sighed with contentment. There were moments when it was good to be a guest of the royal family. The food was delicious, the view incredible and for once her morning sickness hadn’t left her feeling too shaky. Actually the morning episodes were the easiest. The ones that struck later in the day left her feeling as if she’d just gone five rounds with a stubborn strain of the flu.

A small price to pay, she thought as she picked up a strawberry and took a bite. At least it was getting better. In the beginning she’d tossed her cookies nearly—

“Good morning.”

Cleo glanced up, then quickly sprang to her feet. She swallowed a sudden case of nerves and tried to smile. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said to the king of Bahania.

King Hassan smiled and motioned to the small table the servants had set up for her. “Are you enjoying your breakfast?”

“Yes. Very much. I overslept. Jet lag, I guess.”

Hassan nodded. When he didn’t keep on walking, Cleo figured this wasn’t a morning constitutional. He must have a purpose. She cleared her throat. “Ah, Zara is getting a final fitting on her gown. She should be back in an hour or so.”

Hassan motioned to one of the chairs, as if asking permission to join her. Cleo nodded vigorously, feeling like one of those little dogs people put in the back of their cars.

“Please,” she said, then fumbling when he paused, as if waiting for her to sit first.

Was she allowed to be seated when he was standing? she wondered. Life was difficult when all her royal training came from umpteen viewings of the movie The King and I. It’s not as if members of the royal family frequently crowded into her small apartment kitchen.

She finally plunked herself down on her chair and passed a plate of scones. The king took a seat, but declined the scones.

“Please continue with your breakfast,” Hassan said as he reached for her pot of tea and poured himself a cup. “How was your trip to Bahania?”

“Long, but otherwise pretty fabulous.” She spread jam on her scone. “I really appreciate the use of the family jet. It was a whole lot nicer than my first trip here.”

“Not so many people?”

“Exactly.”

“I am glad the jet could be of use to you.” He smiled kindly.

Cleo ignored a twinge of envy. This man was Zara’s father. Cleo was less impressed by the fact that he was a king than that he cared about finding his daughter after not knowing about her for twenty-eight years. Not many men would have been so open and excited at the prospect of a new family member. Still, if good fortune was going to happen to someone, she was glad it was Zara.

“We are happy you have come for the wedding,” the king said.

“I wanted to be here.” It was only half a lie, Cleo thought.

Hassan smiled. “Zara’s happiness would not be complete without the presence of her beloved sister.”

Hassan was just a tad under six feet, with graying hair and strong, handsome features. Cleo could see the family resemblance in his sons and daughters. They were all tall, dark and very good-looking. She, on the other hand, was a short, round, baby-chick blonde with blue eyes and a slight inclination to chubby thighs.

“Your Highness, Zara means the world to me, but you must know we’re not actually sisters.”

The king patted her hand. “You are sisters of the heart. Zara has told me much of your years together. A relationship born of such times runs deep. You honor each other, and as Zara’s father, I honor the bond you share. You have come to be with Zara now, because your presence makes her happy. Therefore you make me happy, as well. You are part of our family, Cleo. You will always be welcome here.”

Cleo felt as if he’d stabbed her. His complete acceptance made her feel like slime. Not only was she carrying his unborn grandchild, she had planned to duck out of the country without anyone knowing the truth.

Her conscience wrestled with reality. If the king knew about the baby, he would want to keep it in Bahania. Cleo knew she didn’t belong here, which meant she might lose her child. Zara had the genes to be a member of the royal family, but Cleo wasn’t so lucky.

“You must tour the garden,” the king said, as if he wasn’t aware of the battle raging inside of her. “When you were last here, the fierce summer daunted many of our most beautiful plants. However, in the fall, they come out and show off their glory.”

She was grateful for the change in subject. “I’ll make it a point to go look at them,” she said. “I enjoyed the gardens before.”

“They’re even more beautiful now. Many things bloom here in Bahania.”

She glanced at him, but despite his cryptic words, he seemed to speak only of the wildlife. There was no way he could have guessed, she told herself as a shiver of unease rippled through her. She was overreacting.

Hassan spoke of his precious cats for a few minutes, then rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, duty calls,” he said. “Otherwise I would like to spend more time with you.” He touched her shoulder. “Welcome, Cleo. We are all happy to have you with us. Stay as long as you would like. I know that you have a life back in America, but should you wish to make your home here in Bahania, we would be most honored.”

He nodded slightly, then left.

Cleo stared after him. It was only when she sniffed that she realized tears rolled down her face. She wiped her cheeks with her napkin. There was no point in blaming this outburst on her hormones. Hassan’s acceptance had opened an old wound—that of wanting to belong to a person, a family, even a place.

Despite his kindness, it wasn’t going to happen here, she reminded herself. That particular fantasy was going to have to be fulfilled somewhere else.

Maybe it was time to make a change in her life, she thought as she headed back to her room. When she went home after Zara’s wedding, she would evaluate her situation and find a way to feel, if not happiness, then at least contentment.

Chapter Three

S adik listened as the financial minister from El Bahar outlined the financing proposal for the proposed air force the two countries were developing. The representative from the City of Thieves was also in attendance. The two countries, along with the City of Thieves, worked together to protect the oil fields deep in the desert. The air force was a large part of their plans to modernize security arrangements.

Each reconnaissance plane cost many millions of dollars, while the fighters’ price tag could top a hundred million dollars. Under normal circumstances, Sadik would be crunching the numbers in his head faster than any calculator and asking dozens of questions.

These were not normal circumstances.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Cleo. She haunted his mind like a ghost haunting a castle. Ever moving, never appearing in the same place twice, disappearing for a time, then reappearing when he least expected to see her.

He ached for her. Their time apart had not seemed to dull his passion, nor had it allowed him to forget her. She was more beautiful than he remembered…and more tempting. Her lush body, her blond hair and blue eyes—there wasn’t a part of her he didn’t want. Kissing her had been a mistake. It had given him a taste of the paradise he’d had before, and he desperately wanted to go there again.

He wanted to make love with her. He wanted to explore every curve, every hollow. He wanted to taste her and touch her, drive her mad, force her to surrender so that he could take her again and again.

“Your Highness, do you agree?”

Sadik stared at the minister sitting across from him. He had no idea what they were discussing. Anger surged. How dare Cleo invade his mind and keep him from his duties? He loved his work with a passion he had never felt for a mere woman. There was no reason for him to be so distracted. In time he would have Cleo again. Until then he would forget about her.

But the simple words did nothing to ease the pounding need inside of him, nor did they improve his memory or his attention span.

“I apologize, Minister,” he said curtly. “Would you repeat the question?”

“We were discussing the options for providing training. There are several companies making bids. In addition both the British and the Americans have offered to send pilots to train our troops.”

“First we must agree on the aircraft,” Sadik said. He allowed himself one last image of Cleo, then pushed her from his mind. Now was the time to work.

“I’m glad this isn’t going to be a formal dinner,” Zara said, flopping down on the sofa and sighing. “I hate those state functions that go on for hours. They can be incredibly boring.”

“How many people will be attending tonight?” Cleo asked. The more the merrier, she thought glumly. Each person in the room was a potential buffer between her and Sadik. As much as she tried to forget it, his kiss from the previous night still haunted her. She found herself alternating between the need to run for cover and the desire to seek him out and finish what they’d started.

“I’m not sure. A couple hundred.” Zara shrugged. “As far as the inner circle of the royal family, it will be us, of course, and the king. Sadik is the only prince in the palace right now. Prince Reyhan is off at an oil conference somewhere. The crown prince is doing crown princely duties in central Africa. Don’t ask me what. And Prince Jefri is in El Bahar talking with the king there about the joint air force.”

Cleo stared at her sister in amazement. “Listen to yourself,” she said.

“What?”

Cleo reached to her right and pulled loose a small pillow. She threw it at Zara. “You’re casually discussing the whereabouts of several members of the royal family. Doesn’t that strike you as the least bit odd? You’re a member of a ruling family. You’re an honest-to-goodness princess, Zara. How can you be so calm about this?”

Zara angled toward her. She wore a stylish short-sleeved dress that screamed designer. A large diamond glittered on her left hand. Her always beautiful hair was sleek and shiny—the result of expensive hair treatments and an even more expensive stylist on call.

“I’m not calm,” Zara admitted, her large eyes dark and troubled. “I feel weird about it all the time. But if I gave in to those feelings, I’m afraid I would end up curled up in a closet, rocking and making weird noises.”

Cleo laughed. “Not an attractive visual.”

“Exactly.” Zara fingered her gold hoop earrings. “I didn’t set out to be a princess. I just wanted to find my father. He happens to be the king of Bahania. Just between the two of us, I wish he’d been a normal guy, but he’s not. I’m here, so you have to be here, too.”

“The difference is, I get to run away when all this becomes too much.”

“I envy you that,” Zara said.

“No, you don’t. You want to be with Rafe.”

Her sister’s expression changed to complete happiness. “You’re right. I’ll put up with anything, even being a princess, just to be near him.”

“I envy you that,” Cleo said easily, knowing Zara would understand.

“You’ll find someone,” her sister told her.

Cleo wasn’t so sure.

“If it wasn’t for Rafe, I’d miss my old life a lot more,” Zara said after a couple of minutes of silence. “I still miss teaching at the university. Plus my friends. No one but you is coming to the wedding. I wanted to offer to pay for the plane tickets, but I knew people would take that wrong.” She stretched her hand across the back of the sofa and touched Cleo’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Cleo told her truthfully.

Zara cleared her throat. “You know, there are a lot of opportunities in the city. The economy here is expanding and there’s always plenty of work.”

Cleo knew exactly where she was going. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I don’t think I’d fit in. I don’t exactly look like a local, plus, who’s going to hire the almost relative of the royal family?” She forced herself to laugh. “We’ll just have to do e-mail a lot.”

“I guess.” Zara’s answering smile faded. “Cleo, why did you run off so suddenly before? You still had a few days of vacation left, but you headed for home without warning.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just—” How to balance the truth with the need to keep her secret. “It was a lot of things. I could see that you needed time to bond with your new family. I wasn’t a part of that. Not only was I afraid of getting in the way, I didn’t exactly fit in.”

“You could never be in the way. I love you and I like having you around. I think the king has a soft spot for you, too.”

“He’s been very kind,” Cleo admitted, suddenly fighting tears. Pregnancy was the pits, she thought as she sniffed. “But I do have my own life back in Spokane.”

“Was Sadik part of your decision to leave?”

Cleo swallowed. “He was a lot of fun, but our relationship wasn’t anything important.” All lies, she thought, feeling guilty. Or maybe only half lies. She suspected their relationship hadn’t meant anything to Sadik. “We had a fling, and then it ended. It happens all the time, although probably more with him than with me.”

“He’s very good-looking.”

“I actually figured that out on my own. But come on. Me and a prince?” Cleo forced out a laugh. “Can you see that ever happening?”

Her heart hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. She desperately wanted Zara to protest, to say that of course everything would work out with Sadik, but that wasn’t going to happen. Zara didn’t have enough information to figure out what Cleo needed to hear, and even if she did, she wouldn’t lie.

Zara laughed, too. “I guess you’re right. He’s pretty arrogant.”

“I’m beginning to think that all princes are arrogant. It must be part of the training.”

Zara fingered her skirt. “Do you mind very much about Rafe? I mean that I’m marrying him?”

“No.” At least in this, Cleo could tell the truth. “You two are so in love. That makes me happy. You deserve someone wonderful in your life. I’m sorry we’re going to be living so far apart, but we can make that work. We’ll still be emotionally close, and you can tell me all about life with a sheik.”

Zara grinned. “I never thought I would be marrying a sheik. In his heart Rafe will always be American, which helps. He loves the desert, and the City of Thieves is amazing. He’s taken me there a couple of times. There’s so much history. I can’t wait to start exploring and studying.”

“That will keep you busy. Then you start having babies. You’re going to have a good life.”

“I hope so,” Zara admitted.

Cleo continued to smile, even though the tears threatened again. It’s not that she didn’t want Zara to be happy, but was it so wrong to want the same for herself?

She reminded herself that the best way to get through all this was to act normal and leave as quickly as possible after the wedding. Like the next day. The sooner she was back in the States, the safer she would feel.

Her stomach lurched slightly. Cleo gritted her teeth. Please, God, let her not throw up at that night’s dinner. Formal event or not, tossing her cookies would give everyone something to talk about and that’s exactly what she didn’t need.

Cleo stood at the entrance of the reception room. Her stomach was surprisingly calm, considering how nervous she felt. Nearly two hundred people were sipping cocktails and chatting with each other. The combined value of the clothing and jewelry was probably enough to match the gross national product of a small country. Cleo glanced down at her new finery, compliments of Zara, who had invited a couple of boutique owners to bring in their wares and then told Cleo to choose a new wardrobe.

The designer dress she wore wasn’t anyone’s idea of a castoff, yet Cleo couldn’t escape the sensation of once again being a charity case. Funny how she thought she’d left that behind her years ago. Since she’d moved out at eighteen, she’d been making her own way and paying her bills on time. She even had a nest egg, although by royal family standards, it was amazingly pitiful. But it was enough for her. The problem was, she couldn’t afford to keep up with the elite social circles in Bahania, and Zara knew it.

Four months ago Zara had been the one feeling weird about accepting gifts of clothing from her newly found father. Cleo had seen their time here as an adventure. Now she shared Zara’s reluctance. Did carrying Sadik’s baby make all that much difference?

Dumb question, she told herself as she headed for the bar. Her midnight-blue beaded dress swished as she walked. High-heeled gold pumps gave her a couple of inches of height, but what she liked best about her outfit was the loose style. It hinted at curves without actually hugging them. So far no one had noticed her bulging belly and she planned to keep it that way.

“Club soda,” she said when the bartender looked up.

She took the glass he offered and turned to survey the room. So these were the beautiful people, she thought as she sipped on her drink. They were certainly out of her league. If she had to make idle chitchat she would—

“I fear you grow more beautiful each time I see you.”

The wrapped-in-velvet voice made her tremble. She didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there.

“I didn’t think royal princes feared anything.” She glanced to her left and saw that Sadik had joined her. He looked fabulous in a tailored black tuxedo. It reminded her of the first time they’d met—when she’d taken one look at him and lost most of her common sense, not to mention a good part of her heart.

He took her free hand in his, brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. It was a courtly gesture that belonged to another time and place. Darn the man—it worked, anyway. She felt herself melting.

“So what’s new, Sadik?” she asked, determined to act completely normal. “How’s the stock market?”

“We do well.”

She didn’t bother asking how many billions he’d made that day. Sadik had a relationship with numbers that was completely foreign to her. She knew he had tripled the personal fortune of the family in fewer than six years. Given the uncertain world-economic situation, that bordered on a miracle.

“Are you excited about the wedding?” she asked, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything brilliant to say.

“My new sister seems happy with her choice in groom. Rafe is a good man. They are well matched.”

“She must be relieved to know she has your blessing. I know the uncertainty of getting it was keeping her up nights.”

His gaze narrowed. “Even now you defy me. Why do you play a game you can’t win?”

“I’m not interested enough to play with you anymore. As for winning—it wasn’t very interesting when I won last time.”

He sucked in a breath. “I was the victor.”

He had been, too. He’d seduced her in a heartbeat and had left her begging for more. Not that she was going to admit that to him. “Whatever. I really don’t remember.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. Had she been one of the king’s pet cats, she would have purred.

“Your mouth tells lies, but I see the truth in your eyes. The passion is as it always was between us. Your attempts to resist me will only make us both more hungry.”

“You managed to forget about me for the four months I was gone, Sadik. The fact that you’re paying attention to me now simply means that I’ve turned up on your radar. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that isn’t the least bit flattering—nor am I interested.”

She had more to say, but at that moment she was saved by the bell…literally. The head butler rang a gong that announced it was time for dinner. Cleo took the opportunity to duck away from Sadik before he could trap her with him.

How could she have blurted that out to him? If he had a single, functioning brain cell—and she happened to know he had more than the average working guy—he would figure out that her feelings were hurt by the fact that he’d let her go and hadn’t once bothered to get in touch with her. She didn’t want him thinking that he mattered. She didn’t want him thinking about her at all. He already had too much power over her sexually. The last thing she needed was him using her fragile emotions against her, too.

She walked into the main dining room and had a moment of panic at the thought that they might be seated next to each other. Several long tables filled the smaller of the formal dining rooms in the palace. Cleo found her name on the seating chart, then drew in a relieved breath when she saw the seats next to her were already taken. Rafe sat on her right, which meant Zara was next to him. A least she would be close to a semi-family member. On her left was a man she didn’t know, but he seemed friendly enough when he greeted her and held out her chair.

“Jonathan Grant,” he said easily, holding out his hand.

“Cleo Wilson,” she said, and settled in her chair. Rafe turned and gave her a wink before returning his attention to Zara.

Cleo took a moment to glance around the room. During her first stay in the palace, she’d explored several of the public rooms. She’d even almost begun to understand the floor plan. This particular dining room was used for smaller formal events. The wall tapestries dated back to the fifteenth century and showed the various explorers who had made their way to Bahania. Four marble statues stood in the corners. At the far end of the room was a raised dais for a small orchestra. Several crystal chandeliers provided light.

Everything glittered, especially the well-dressed people. How happy they must be that the king agreed to keep his cats out of the room on evenings such as these.

“What’s so funny?” Jonathan asked.

He was an attractive man in his late forties. Cleo picked up her water glass. “I was thinking that a couple of loose cats could do a lot of damage with their shedding in this group.”

Jonathan grinned. “I’m still picking off hairs from my last visit here. Black suit, white cat. I swear I heard her laughing as she rubbed against me.”

Cleo chuckled at the image. As she did so, she felt something intense, as if…

She raised her head. Sadik might not be next to her, but he was across from her. The table was wide enough to keep them from talking easily, but that didn’t matter. It was enough to know he was there. There and watching her. She deliberately turned back to her seatmate.

“What business brings you to Bahania?” she asked.

Jonathan looked faintly surprised at the question. “I’m the American ambassador.”

Heat instantly flared on her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under the table. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t actually live in Bahania and, well…” Her voice trailed off. Did it matter that she didn’t live here? Her circle of friends had never included an ambassador.

“I should have done a better job of introducing myself,” he said easily. “As your sister is Princess Zara, I assumed you would have been told about me.”

So he knew who she was. Figures. Life could be annoyingly unfair. “So far Zara and I have pretty much talked about the wedding. You know—girl stuff.”

“I have three daughters so I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

The fact that he had children made her able to put aside her faux pas. As dinner was served, she found herself chatting easily with Jonathan. He explained that his wife had returned home to the States to get their oldest settled at college and visit family.

All through the various courses Cleo did her best to ignore Sadik’s watchful gaze. He was polite enough to converse with the women on either side of him, but she would have bet he barely heard what they were saying. He was too busy glaring at her.

When the dessert plates had been cleared away, the waiters brought out trays of open champagne bottles. The bubbly liquid was served, and King Hassan rose to toast his daughter.

Cleo joined in the applause and, at the appropriate time, raised her glass to her lips but was careful not to swallow. Conflicting emotions swelled up inside of her. She was deeply happy for her sister. Zara deserved all her joy. But the knowledge that things would never be the same between them made Cleo feel hollow inside.

The king ended the meal by inviting everyone to dance in the main ballroom. As Cleo pushed back her seat, she could already hear the strains of music. But with her heavy heart and suddenly unsettled stomach, what she wanted more than anything was to hurry back to her room for a quiet pity party and a good movie. She nearly made it to the far door before she was caught.

“The American ambassador is happily married.”

Cleo spun toward Sadik. “Number one, stop sneaking up on me. It’s annoying. Number two, I know all about Jonathan’s wife and his daughters. We had a lovely time chatting together and don’t you dare turn it into something sleazy.”

His dark eyes were unreadable. A muscle twitched in his jaw. She half expected him to throw her over his shoulder and spirit her away. A part of her would have welcomed being in his bed, regardless of the price. Fortunately, all he did was lead her toward the ballroom, then pull her into his arms for a dance.

They moved without speaking. Cleo let herself relax to the rhythm of the music. Maybe it was madness, but being with Sadik felt like coming home.

Despite the height difference, they danced well together. She easily anticipated his moves. The heat from his body made her feel safe.

Safe, she thought sadly. There was a unique concept. She might be many things with the prince, but the least of them was safe.

“You should go bother a skinny, tall brunette and leave me alone,” she grumbled.

“You should stop talking. You’re spoiling our moment together.”

“Is that what we’re having?”

“Yes. And you’re enjoying it. Besides, I want no other woman but you.”

His words sank down to her heart, ripping away protective layers of common sense. She knew he was only talking about sex, but she couldn’t help wishing…wanting…something more. Sadik held her close enough that she could feel the call of his body. She took the half step closer, nestling herself against him. His only response was to sigh softly.

For a time, with her pregnancy, her breasts had been extremely tender. That symptom had faded so she could now enjoy the sensation of pressing close to his hard chest. Against her will, memories flooded her as she remembered what it had been like to be with him. She recalled the way he’d touched her everywhere. Slowly, almost worshiping her body. He’d made her feel physically perfect.

Cleo closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the past and the pain it brought. If it was only sex, she could find the will to resist. But she and Sadik had shared so much more. When they had satiated themselves after an hour or two, they had talked. First of inconsequential matters, but eventually they had shared the details of their past. She’d heard about the lonely child growing up in a world of wealth and privilege, ignored by his parents and raised by a nanny, then a tutor. She’d glossed over the first ten years of her life but had told him about going to live with Zara and her mother.

She had allowed herself to believe that she’d gotten past the arrogant shell to the actual man beneath. She’d told herself that she mattered to him. She’d been wrong on both counts.

“Come to me tonight,” he breathed in her ear. “We can rediscover paradise together.”

Cleo was so tempted she nearly fainted. Knowing that he wanted her made her long to give in. Apparently being around Sadik still made her forget all that was important. She took a half second to try to convince herself that it was okay to be weak and spineless, then she remembered what was at stake.

She did her best to look bored as she raised her gaze to his. “I’m seriously flattered, but I’d rather not. You’re a great guy, Sadik, really. But the thing is, I’ve met someone else. We hooked up shortly after I returned to Spokane.”

Sadik raised dark eyebrows. “You have another man in your life? What is his name?”

Her mind went completely blank. Ah…a name. Any name. “Rick. He’s in plumbing.” Internally she winced. “He’s fabulous. We met and it was love at first sight. Really. Right there in front of my kitchen sink.” She widened her eyes, hoping for a look of sincerity.

Sadik did not look convinced. “Your sister hasn’t mentioned this Rick person.”

“I didn’t say anything to her. Zara is so caught up in the wedding and everything. I didn’t want to distract her.” Cleo swallowed. She’d never been a very good liar. Maybe she should have practiced more.

“So it’s serious with you and this Rick?”

“Uh-huh. We’re practically engaged.”

Sadik threw back his head and began to laugh. Cleo wanted to stomp her foot…preferably grinding her heel into his instep.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she hissed. “You wanted me. The possibility exists that one other man on the planet might feel the same way.”

He stopped laughing and pulled her hard against him. “I do not doubt your charms, Cleo, merely your story. While you are desirable and could have many suitors, you could not be with another man after being with me.”

He spoke with a confidence that made her want to box his ears.

“You make me crazy,” she told him as she pulled free of his embrace. “You also have a very high opinion of yourself. Frankly this conversation bores me.”

At least they were on the edge of the dance floor, she thought gratefully as she stalked away. Sadik didn’t follow her, but then he hardly had to worry about where she was going to go. The single choice was back to her room. For the forty-seventh time that day, tears filled her eyes. As if throwing up wasn’t enough, she’d turned into a faucet. Nothing about this situation was fair.

What made it worse was Sadik had been correct. There was no way she could be with another man after being with him. Somehow she’d bonded herself with him until no other man could possibly matter.

But he only cared about her attentions as some sort of game. He wanted her in his bed, yet not in his life. Cleo hated that. She also didn’t want to explore what she wanted, because she had a bad felling that the truth would terrify her. Wishing for the moon was a steep, slick road to heartache. The problem was, she could already feel herself starting to slip.

Chapter Four

C leo eyed the long tables laden with wrapped presents. Each gift looked beautiful enough to be in a display window, and accompanying each was a letter, a blank form and pages of documentation.

“I’m going to bet there’s not a blender in the bunch,” she murmured.

Zara carried the first package over to the only empty table. Several chairs had been pulled up around it, along with a stack of file folders.

“If you think this is bad, you should go check out the other gift room. It has the official gifts offered by various governments and heads of state. I’m not even allowed to open those. Apparently, there’s an entire protocol staff to see to them. However, after a series of lectures, they finally trusted me to open and log in the private gifts.” She smiled at Cleo. “Still want to help?”

“Sure. But first I want to know the difference between ‘official’ and ‘private’ gifts.”

Zara handed her the blank form. “You need to be filling this out while I open. When you get bored, we’ll trade. As to the difference, I’m not sure. It’s how they’re sent or something. I’m just hoping no one gives us a pair of elephants.”

Cleo started to laugh. “You’re not talking about matching statuary, are you?”

“Nope. The king keeps swearing it’s a time-honored gift to a marrying couple. Something about fertility or long life, or maybe both. I could handle a small dog or a bird, but I don’t want to be responsible for any elephants.”

Cleo reached for the paperwork. “This one is from a former U.S. president.” She started writing on the form, filling in the spaces for who the gift was from and the date opened.

Zara wrestled with the box. “It’s heavy,” she said, tearing off wrapping paper.

Cleo watched her, again thinking how different their lives had become. Although while she might envy Zara her relationship with Rafe, she couldn’t envy her her princess status. Cleo didn’t think she could handle being a part of the royal family.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. Just one more on a long list of things she couldn’t think about. Like the fact that last night she’d nearly given in to Sadik, and that while he still wanted her in his bed, he had no interest in her as a person.

“This works,” Zara said as she pulled the top off the large white box, then withdrew a stunning crystal bowl. The elegant piece glittered in the daylight like a massive diamond.

“Ohh, I’m going to have to borrow that one,” Sabrina said, as she breezed into the gift room. “Am I too late? Did I miss the elephants?”

Zara laughed and turned to greet her half sister. “No elephants. I’m trying to convince myself there aren’t going to be any.”

The two women hugged, then Sabrina turned to Cleo. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she said, hurrying over and hugging Cleo, as well. “Your last stay was far too short. You must stay longer this time.”

Cleo nodded because she couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened as she stared at the two women. Both tall, slender brunettes with the same wide eyes and smiling mouths. Anyone looking at them would know they were sisters.

Sabrina took the bowl and held it up to the light. “Seriously, this is gorgeous. And I happen to know they make matching wineglasses.”

Zara laughed. “I thought I’d just steal yours.”

Cleo smiled, but her heart felt heavy. Obviously, in the past four months Sabrina and Zara had become close. It was bound to happen. Although they’d just met, they were in fact related by blood. They were both princesses, and Zara was marrying Sabrina’s husband’s second in command. They would be living in the fabled City of Thieves, several hundred miles from the Bahanian capital.

Sabrina set down the bowl, then pulled up a chair next to Cleo and grabbed the clipboard. “I can’t believe she’s put you to work already. So like her.”

“Hey, I torment my baby sister whenever I can.” Zara winked at Cleo.

Sabrina sighed. “I wish I’d grown up with a sister. I envy you two that.”

Cleo looked at Zara and Sabrina. Not only did they look alike, but they were dressed alike in expensive slacks and silk blouses. Cleo wore a loose cotton dress she should have tossed out the previous summer. “You’re the sisters. I’m just someone Zara’s mother took in. Not a relative at all.”

Sabrina shook her head. “You’re sisters in the truest sense of the word, and I’ll admit to wanting to be a part of that.” Her expression turned serious. “Cleo, I hope that we can all be close. I’d really like that.”

While Cleo was touched by her sincerity, she also felt a little uncomfortable. “This is where I remind you I’m the only nonprincess in the group.”

Sabrina playfully bumped her shoulder. “Maybe we can change that. I saw you dancing with a certain prince last night. Things looked intense.”

Cleo could feel heat flaring on her cheeks. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s so not going to happen. I’m not in the market for an arrogant prince, no matter how handsome he might be.”

“Oh. So you think he’s handsome.”

Cleo pressed her lips together. Trapped by her own stupid words. “He’s okay.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Sabrina laughed. “Zara, we might have to do a little matchmaking with this one.”

Cleo thought about how Sadik was so hot to get her into bed now but hadn’t once bothered to get in touch with her after she’d left. In four months there hadn’t been a word from him.

“No matchmaking for me. Like I said, arrogant princes aren’t my style.”

“Too bad.”

Sabrina scribbled a few notes about the bowl, then helped Zara collect the wrapping paper and throw it in a trash container at the side of the table. The bowl, along with the letter and the paperwork, went onto a display table. Zara brought over another box.

Sabrina studied the accompanying letter. “This one is from the crown prince of Lucia-Serrat. It’s an island in the Indian Ocean. The crown prince of the island is a cousin of the king of Bahania.” She waved a hand. “Don’t ask, it’s complicated. But this guy is good-looking and a widower with four sons.” She glanced at Cleo. “He needs a wife.”

“Too bad I’m not looking for a husband.”

“You will be eventually. Although now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’d want to recommend my brothers. After all, our father was a bit of a playboy.” She frowned. “He was devoted to your mother, Zara. And he loved Reyhan and Jefri’s mother, at least that’s what I’ve been told. Of course Sadik has been faithful in his own way.”

Zara opened the package. Inside the box was a flat jewelry case. She opened it and caught her breath. “Can I accept this?”

She pulled out a stunning diamond necklace. Hundreds of glittering diamonds dangled, forming a vee shape. There were matching earrings and a bracelet, as well.

Sabrina touched the earrings and sighed. “Someone has fabulous taste. And, yes, you can accept it. If he’s related to Dad, he’s family, remember?”

Zara looked at Cleo. “At times like this I think about running for home.”

“This is your home now,” Cleo reminded her. Although she had to admit the necklace intimidated her, as well. But she had more important things on her mind.

“Sabrina, what did you mean about Sadik being faithful in his own way?”

Sabrina put the earrings back in the jewelry case. “Just that he’s continued to mourn Kamra all these years.”

Cleo was glad she was sitting down. The room tilted suddenly and her stomach began to flop over. “Kamra?”

“Sadik’s fiancée.” Sabrina sat back in the chair and picked up the clipboard. “They were engaged. It was an arranged match, but they seemed to get along well. She was killed in a car accident about three weeks before the wedding. Sadik took it pretty hard.”

“Cleo, are you all right?” Zara asked.

Cleo forced herself to keep breathing. “Fine. So you want to keep the necklace or is it going in the discard pile?”

Her question had the desired effect. Zara was distracted. When the next box turned out to be a half-dozen camel bridles from one of the nomadic tribes, Sabrina explained that there were actual camels to go in them. That sent the two women off into a discussion as to whether camels were a better or worse gift than elephants.

Cleo tried to participate. She nodded and occasionally added a word or two. She even managed to smile. But inside, she felt numb, and just beyond the numbness was a gaping pit of intense pain and betrayal.

Sadik had loved another woman. That woman had died and now he mourned her. No wonder he only wanted Cleo in his bed. He’d already given his heart to someone else.

She’d always known there couldn’t be anything serious between them, but somehow finding out that he had never been available made the situation worse. All her life she’d dreamed of being the most important person in someone’s life. It was her private fantasy. And now she knew it was never going to happen with Sadik.

Until that moment she hadn’t realized she had secretly hoped he would fall in love with her.

She pressed her hand to her stomach and felt hopelessness well up inside. As much as she’d thought about keeping the baby from him, she knew it wasn’t possible. Not only was he likely to find out, keeping him from his child was wrong. Which meant at some point she was going to have to come clean. And then what? Would he try to take her child away from her? How could she possibly come to terms with the royal family? How could she stay in Bahania and share in the upbringing?

Everything was going wrong. She should never have come back here. Then she looked at Zara and saw the happiness on her face. This was Zara’s time. Cleo couldn’t ruin it. Not by refusing to show up or by running off. Somehow she would have to get through the next week. Once the wedding was over, she would have time to think and figure out what she was going to do.

Cleo escaped into the gardens. When she was outside, she finally felt as if she could breathe again. She ached inside. She supposed that a sensible person might have figured out that Sadik had loved someone else, but then a sensible person wouldn’t have gotten involved with him in the first place. She felt well and truly trapped.

Worse, she still wanted him. Not just in bed, either. Even as her heart was ripped apart by the knowledge that he would never love her, she wanted to feel his arms around her.

“You need therapy,” she said aloud as she crossed the garden and sank onto a bench. She breathed in the scent of the flowers and tried to find peace in the beauty all around her.

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue. The scent of the sea blended with the sweet scent of hundreds of blossoms. She touched the edge of a late-blooming rose. Her finger caught on a thorn, and she yelped as a single drop of blood formed.

“Figures,” she muttered.

If only, she thought sadly. If only there was a way to change her feelings or change Sadik. But even if she was princess material, which she knew she was not, she couldn’t compete with a deceased fiancée. Kamra would be ever perfect in his mind—never growing old or looking tired or snapping back. No woman could compete with a ghost.

Cleo swallowed, then suddenly surged to her feet. Her stomach rebelled against all the emotion—or maybe just against her overly large breakfast. She barely had time to bend over one of the bushes before she vomited.

In an unfortunate quirk of timing, King Hassan chose that moment to take a stroll in his garden.

She didn’t know he was there until she straightened and he pressed a handkerchief in her hand.

Cleo didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run but realized she was crying too hard to see. Tripping would not be a good idea. Not only would it lack a certain grace, she didn’t want any harm to come to the baby.

“Come, child,” the king said kindly, putting an arm around her and helping her back to the bench. “Sit and catch your breath.”

Cleo allowed him to help her because her brain was too busy figuring out how she was supposed to explain throwing up in the royal garden. The king didn’t look angry, but she suspected he would want an explanation.

He sat next to her and took her hand in his. “There is a royal physician on call,” he said. “I will summon him.”

“No!” That was the last thing she needed. “I’m fine. It’s just all the excitement.”

A pretty pitiful excuse but the best she could come up with under the circumstances.

Hassan studied her. He took the handkerchief and wiped her cheeks. “I see tears. I doubt they are from excitement. Tell me, Cleo. What makes you so sad?”

No way she could confess that, she thought glumly. Talking about Sadik’s former fiancée would only get her in trouble.

“Is it Zara?” he asked.

“No. I mean I really miss her a lot, but she’s so happy here. Plus you’re her family—this is where she belongs.”

The king continued to hold her hand. “Cleo, I repeat what I told you before. You are welcome to make this your home, as well. I would be delighted if you would stay in the palace. Or if you would prefer, you could live in the City of Thieves. Either way you would be close to your sister.” He paused, then smiled. “I have to say that I would recommend Bahania. You do not strike me as the medieval city type.”

Cleo tried to laugh but found herself crying instead. Hassan pulled her close.

“Such sadness,” he murmured. “Tell me what I can do to ease your pain.”

His kindness only made her cry harder. Part of her couldn’t believe this was happening. Hassan wasn’t just Zara’s father, he was the king of Bahania. What was wrong with this picture?

Still, Cleo found comfort in his embrace. Her father had died before she was born, and she hadn’t had the chance to know him at all. She’d never had a substitute father while she was growing up.

“My daughter,” he said, stroking her hair. “Your troubles bring me discomfort, as well. If you do not explain what is wrong, I can not fix it.”

She raised her head to gaze at him. After blinking back the tears, she managed to speak. “You said ‘my daughter.”’

“You are the beloved sister of my Zara. That makes you beloved to me, as well.” He cupped her face. “You cry as if all is lost, but I know it cannot be so.”

Cleo wasn’t sure what weakened her resolve. Hassan’s gentleness, of course, but also his willingness to claim her. She doubted he actually thought of her as a daughter, but just saying the word was enough to shatter her reticence.

“You wouldn’t be nice if you knew the truth about my past,” she said, in a last-ditch effort to gather some control.

“I know all I need to. You are a part of my family. As such, I want only your happiness.”

She desperately wanted to believe him. Ducking her head, she grabbed back the handkerchief and sobbed into it. “I’m p-pregnant.”

Hassan continued to stroke her hair. “I see. Would you like me to have the unworthy dog flogged?”

Despite her desperate situation, the visual image of Sadik hanging in chains while being beaten cheered her immensely. She risked a quick glance.

“How disappointed are you?”

The king frowned. “Why would your pregnancy disappoint me?”

Cleo flushed. “I’m not exactly a virgin.”

“My claim on you as family is not conditional, my daughter. To me, you and Zara will always be perfection itself.” He dropped his hand to hers. “Now tell me of the man who has left you so. I do not see an engagement ring, so he has not done the honorable thing.”

Propose? The idea was laughable. As if that would happen. Cleo sniffed. “He doesn’t know. I’m going to have to tell him eventually, but first I want to figure out what I want.” She smiled. “I mean, I know I want the baby, but where do I want to live and what’s the best way for us to share in his or her upbringing?”

Hassan smiled. “I’m glad you want your child.”

She stiffened. “Why wouldn’t I? Obviously, this wasn’t planned, but I will never abandon my baby. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep us both safe.” She thought of how she’d been abandoned over and over again in her life. Long ago she’d vowed that when she had children, they would know she loved them more than anything in the world.

“I see the flash of a tiger in your eyes. That bodes wells. A strong mother has strong sons.”

Typical, she thought, starting to feel a little better. “I could be having a daughter.”

Hassan dismissed her with a flick of his fingers. “Regardless. You must come to terms with this jackal of the desert, Cleo. I will stand beside you in whatever way I can.”

While she appreciated his words, they brought her back to earth with a thump. What had she been thinking, telling Sadik’s father that she was pregnant? She doubted the king would be so accommodating if he knew the truth.

“You must not mention this,” she pleaded. “If people found out…” She bit her lower lip. How to convince him? “I don’t want Zara’s wedding spoiled by people speculating about me. She is so looking forward to the event. Please don’t say anything.”

“I agree.” He smiled. “Your secret is safe with me, Cleo.” He patted her hand, then rose. “Come. You need to be in your room and resting. I will have the kitchen send you some tea to settle your stomach. You must be strong for your son.”

“Or daughter,” she muttered as she rose, but had the feeling the king wasn’t listening. She also had a very bad feeling about spilling her guts. Somehow she knew it was all going to come back and bite her in the butt. As if she didn’t already have enough problems.

Twenty minutes later Cleo lay stretched out on her bed, sipping tea. The odd-smelling concoction actually made her feel better. She put the cup back on the saucer, then set both on her nightstand. Maybe a nap would make her feel better.

But before she could even close her eyes, her bedroom door burst open. Zara stormed into the room.

“You’re pregnant and you didn’t even tell me?”

Chapter Five

“S houldn’t you still be opening presents?” Cleo asked, knowing it was a feeble attempt at distracting Zara.

“Shouldn’t you be telling me something this important?” Zara stalked to the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “How could you keep this from me?”

Cleo could have gone head-to-head with Zara in a snit, but the hurt in her sister’s eyes made her feel like slime.

“I’m sorry.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. “I guess you ran into the king.”

“Yes. He came to talk to me about the presents, then managed to let it slip that you’d confessed you were pregnant. He thought I should know, which is more than you thought.”

This is what she got for trusting a man, she thought glumly. She could feel the situation spinning out of control. Who else had Hassan told, and what was going to happen if Sadik learned the truth?

She didn’t want to think about that now, so she pushed those thoughts from her mind.

“You’re getting married,” Cleo began slowly. “I wanted this time to be about you. If I’d told you, you would have gotten all worried and wanted to fix things.”

“Exactly. I care about you. I want to know what’s going on in your life. Don’t you think this was a big deal?”

“It is,” Cleo admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Zara didn’t look mollified. “So who’s the father?”

“No one you know.” Cleo shrugged and tried to look like she wasn’t lying. “After I went home, I met someone.”

Zara didn’t look convinced. “Funny how you never mentioned him in all the phone conversations we’ve had.”

“I didn’t know if it was serious.”

“It’s serious enough that you got pregnant.”

This was not going the way Cleo had hoped. “Zara, I’m going to be fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. You’re my little sister.” Zara climbed up onto the mattress and settled next to her. “What I don’t understand is how this happened.”

Despite her concerns, Cleo couldn’t help smiling.

“The usual way. I would have thought you’d figured out the facts of life by now.”

Zara rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’ve been sexually active for a long time. How come you got pregnant this time?”

“Bad timing,” Cleo admitted. “I’d gone off the pill to give my body a rest. I wasn’t expecting to get involved with someone so I wasn’t prepared.”

Zara looked stunned. “You had unprotected sex?”

“We used a condom, but things happen.”

Actually what had happened was that one night she and Sadik had been so hot for each other, they’d both forgotten birth control. She hadn’t even realized it until several days later, when she’d been on her way home. They had been irresponsible, and now she was paying the price.

“I can’t believe this,” Zara breathed.

“Tell me about it.” Cleo looked at her sister. “I know you’re upset. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know. The thing is, Zara, I’ll be fine, as will my baby. This is your time. You have a beautiful wedding in a week. I don’t want you thinking about anything else. Can’t we forget this and deal with it after you get back from your honeymoon?”

“I didn’t think you were still going to be here then.”

Cleo didn’t know what was going to happen, now that the news was out. “We can deal with it either together or long-distance. I promise.”

Slowly Zara nodded. “I’m giving in because I don’t have a choice. You’re a grown-up. You have to be responsible for your own life. I just wish you had told me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cleo repeated, thinking that she had a few wishes of her own.

The difference between a formal state dinner and an informal state dinner was usually found in the size and the details.

Cleo paused at the entrance to the cocktail party and studied the room. Flowers bloomed everywhere—providing a sweet scent and creating the sense of being in a garden. Small white lights twinkled, candles flickered and an immense crowd of people circulated and talked. The informal dinner had been for about two hundred people. There had to be at least five times that number in attendance to honor the bride and groom. Everyone glittered and sparkled, leaving her feeling like a very out-of-place, country cousin. A very tired country cousin.

She hadn’t slept in two days. Not since she’d found out that the king had told Zara about her pregnancy. So far no one else seemed to know, so she was keeping her fingers crossed that she could escape the situation without too much trouble.

A waiter paused and offered her a glass of champagne. Cleo declined, then decided to head to the bar where she could get her club soda with lime and pass it off as a cocktail. At least she felt reasonably attractive. Her red, beaded gown skimmed over her curves in such a way as to make her feel like a pinup girl from the 1940s. A twist of fabric in the midsection hid her tummy, which was good because it had really started sticking out. She was approaching her fifth month and none of her regular pants would fit. She was going to have to hit the maternity stores before long. But that trip would have to wait until she headed home.

The good news was she hadn’t thrown up in the past couple of days. Maybe that cookie toss into the royal garden had been her last.

Less than ten feet from the bar, she came to a dead stop. Sadik stood across the room, and the second she saw him, she knew that he’d been told about the baby. His dark gaze fell immediately to her midsection and the look of accusation on his face rooted her to the floor. Even when he headed toward her, tall, angry and determined, she couldn’t seem to make herself run.

He grabbed her arm and herded her toward the far end of the room where there weren’t so many people. She glanced around to see if she could find someone to rescue her, then figured there was no point in putting off the inevitable.

Think fast, she told herself. She had to come up with a plausible story. She’d tell him what she told Zara—that she’d met someone. After all, she’d already hinted there was another man in her past. She needed to buy herself time. If she told him it was his baby, he would take over her life and she would lose the ability to make decisions. It’s not that she wanted to keep Sadik from his child; she wanted to make sure he didn’t ace her out of the picture.

He led her into a small alcove, then positioned her so her back was to the main room, but he faced that direction. Probably so he could make sure they weren’t interrupted or overheard.

“Is it true?” he asked by way of a greeting. “Are you pregnant?”

She reminded herself that the king had not only called the father of her child a jackal of the desert but had offered to have him flogged. She wondered if Hassan would be willing to go through with the latter if he found out the father in question was his own son.

Once again the idea of Sadik in chains gave her comfort, however small. She laced her fingers together in front of her waist and squeezed her palms together.

“I am pregnant,” she said slowly, “but before you get all hot and possessive, I want to make it clear that it’s not your baby. I’ve already told you, there’s someone else in my life now. The child is his.”

Dark eyes narrowed slightly. Sadik seemed to see into her soul. Then he shook his head in a dismissal that made her heart sink.

“The child is mine. You could not be with another man after being with me.”

His flat statement made her want to scream. Worse, it was true, and if she tried to deny it too hard, he was going to see right through her. Panic threatened.

Sadik took hold of her upper arms and pulled her close. As much as she wanted to look away, he compelled her to meet his gaze. His expression turned cold and more than a little scary.

“Make no mistake,” he said softly, menace in every syllable. “Bahanian law will not allow a royal child to be taken out of the country without the king’s permission. However much my father might claim you as his daughter, he will not turn his back on his first grandson. If you do not admit the truth to me now, I will go to my father and tell him of our relationship. I will explain that I believe the child to be mine and insist you be examined by a doctor. If you are more than four months along…”

He stopped talking, but there was no point in finishing the threat. Cleo wasn’t an idiot. She knew that the king’s favor couldn’t be stretched very far. Hassan wouldn’t let her take away his grandchild, and Sadik would do everything he promised.

He continued to stare at her face. “Tell me again, Cleo. Tell me the child is not mine.”

She waited as long as she could, then exhaled the truth. “I can’t.”

His self-satisfied smile tore at her heart. Her first thought was to run. If she went fast enough and far enough they could never find her. But before she could even take a step, Sadik was shaking his head. His smile faded.

“Do not think you can escape me. We are talking about my son. My heir.”

“So if I have a girl, I’m free to go,” she said bitterly, hating that his words had ripped her apart. She didn’t simply fear his threats, she felt as if he’d destroyed every hint of a dream. Sadik didn’t care about her—he never had. As far as he was concerned, she was little more than a vessel. She was the carrier of his offspring, and not a person in her own right.

“I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. I will have a son.”

That almost made her smile. “As long as you had that conversation with your sperm, Sadik. You did realize those little guys might have a mind of their own, right?”

He frowned, as if mothers of royal babies didn’t discuss such things.

She jerked free of his hold and walked to the far end of the alcove. Even as she placed her hands against the cool walls, she knew there was no escape. Not from him and not from her circumstances.

Her eyes burned, and her throat tightened, but her pain was too deep for tears. Sadness tugged at her, making it difficult to stay standing.

“What happens now?” she asked, barely able to form the words, then changed her mind. “Don’t bother. I know what happens. You keep a close watch on me until the child is born, but then what?” She swallowed, not wanting to hear the truth but desperate to know. “How long until you throw me out of the palace?”

He was at her side in an instant. He grabbed her and turned her toward him. Rage tightened his face. She hadn’t known he was capable of such emotion and it should have frightened her, but she had other things to worry about. Once she knew his plans, she could come up with her own ideas of how to escape, either before or after the child was born. Because no matter how he threatened her, she would never abandon her child.

“Is that what you think?” he demanded. “That I would cast you into the streets?”

“You don’t care about me. Until now you only wanted me to warm your bed. Now that you know I’m pregnant, you’ll want me to carry the baby to term, but after that I’ll be of no use to you.”

He released her as if she’d burned him. Sadik stalked to the entrance of the alcove and turned back to face her.

“You think so little of me,” he said.

“I’m a realist. All I want to know are your plans.”

“You will be the mother of my son. As such, you are to be honored.”

Her racing heart slowed slightly. “You wouldn’t expect me to leave my child and just disappear?”

“I am not an animal.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him, but his words gave her hope. If he was willing to say that, then maybe she could go to the king for assurances. The idea of making some kind of coparenting plan work seemed impossible, but she would do anything to stay with her baby.

He glared at her. “I see the doubt in your eyes. How is that possible? In what way have I so betrayed you that you would not trust me now?”

“How much time do you have?” she asked, not caring that she continued to stir his temper. In truth she wanted him to—

The sudden sensation of butterflies in her stomach surprised her into silence. She wasn’t nervous…she was furious that she’d been put into this situation, and relieved that at least for now she didn’t have to worry about losing her child. There was no reason she should be feeling a fluttering sensation.

Cleo’s breath caught. Sadik was at her side in a second, putting his arm around her to support her weight. “What is wrong? Do you need to sit down? Should I call a doctor?”

He was so solicitous and obviously worried that she nearly laughed out loud. Then she remembered that none of his attentions were about her.

“I’m fine,” she said, as the fluttering continued. “I just felt the baby move.”

He frowned. “Is that good? Are you supposed to?”

She considered him the enemy in this situation. Worse, she had feelings for him she wasn’t willing to explore or define. The man tempted her beyond reason and made her forget herself. The safest course of action would be to get as far away as possible. But he was also the father of her child. While growing up she’d seen countless fathers who wanted nothing to do with their offspring. At least Sadik showed interest.

So against her better judgment, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her belly, where the fluttering was the strongest. She pressed his fingers into her belly.

“Can you feel that?” she asked in a whisper. “It’s the first time I’ve felt the baby move.”

He was still, then his fingers moved slightly and he grinned at her. “My son is strong.”

She pushed his hands away and rolled her eyes. “You make me crazy.”

He ignored that and stared at her stomach. “You do not seem very large in the belly.”

“I’m not showing a lot right now,” she agreed. “I’m a week into my fifth month so I would imagine I’m going to pop anytime now.”

“Pop?”

“Get huge. I’m too short to carry the baby with any grace and style. Tall women can hide their pregnancy longer.”

“Why would you want to hide such a blessing?”

For one thing she hadn’t wanted him to know. For another…She drew in a breath. “Sadik, you have to promise me something. We can’t let everyone know about this. Not until after Zara’s wedding. I don’t want her big day spoiled by speculation.”

Sadik considered her words, then nodded. “I agree that the happiness of my sister must come first. In return for this, I want your word that you won’t steal away after the wedding.”

She hadn’t considered ducking out but realized the thought would have occurred to her eventually. “I promise,” she said.

“Good.” He put his arm around her. “We have much to discuss. I wish to know everything you’ve experienced with the child and I will share in the changes as they occur.”

She thought of how she’d had morning sickness just about twenty-four hours a day and how her body was the one that was going to swell like a watermelon. “I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of sharing,” she said glumly. “I can tell you what I’ve experienced, but that’s not the same.”

“I have many questions,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “When did you first realize you were pregnant? Have you been eating right? Why did you not tell me?”

Weariness descended. Cleo told herself that she should be grateful that Sadik wasn’t furious with her anymore. She was even surprised that he was taking it so well. But there were so many things she didn’t understand and situations she wasn’t willing to deal with at the moment.

She slipped away from his embrace. Everything was different now. He saw her as the mother of his child, so it was unlikely he would want her in his bed. The thought should have made her relieved, but instead she felt sad.

“I’m really tired,” she said. “Would you mind if we tabled the discussion until later?”

He hesitated, then nodded his agreement. “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

She wasn’t all that thirsty, but she did need some time alone. Her composure had scattered and she had to collect herself before the formal dinner.

Sadik headed for the bar, but his mind was not on his task. A baby. When his father had mentioned Cleo was pregnant, Sadik had known right away that the child had to be his. He’d felt delighted by the news.

Now that he had confirmation, elation welled up inside of him. He wanted to announce the news to the world. Still, he would keep the secret until after Zara’s wedding. Cleo’s concern for her sister was well-founded.

How long had he longed for a son? After Kamra’s death, he had put aside his plans for a family. He’d known that eventually he would have to marry and have children, but he’d had no desire to hurry the process. This unexpected bounty made him pleased with the world.

He requested the club soda and lime, then headed back to where he’d left Cleo. He could see her sitting on a chair by the wall. She looked stunned—as if their encounter had drained her. She needed her rest, he decided. He would make sure she was in bed early that evening. She needed her strength so that his son would grow and develop inside of her.

They were bound now, he thought. Cleo would always be the mother of his son. The concept should have discomfited him, yet it did not. She had many fine qualities to pass on to their child. She continued to challenge and defy him, even now. He would very much enjoy the process of taming her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Zara said as the carriage moved forward. She perched uneasily on the edge of the cushioned seat in the open conveyance, her flowers gripped tightly in her hand.

Cleo sat opposite and tried not to mind that she was facing the wrong direction. As the bride, it was right that Zara should face forward. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind. However, while her morning sickness seemed to have disappeared, her stomach often felt faintly unsettled, leaving Cleo concerned that the tossing-her-cookies portion of her pregnancy might make an unexpected return.

“Just smile and wave,” Cleo said, glancing at the crowd lining either side of the road.

Their open, horse-drawn carriage moved slowly, accompanied by cheers and whistles from those who had come out to watch. Mounted guards rode next to them, as much to be part of the spectacle as to offer protection. Cleo figured it was unlikely that anyone was about to kidnap the king’s daughter.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Zara said softly, her face pale, her eyes wide.

“You’ll be fine.” Cleo motioned to her dress. “I don’t think you can return that.”

Zara laughed, then smoothed the front of her designer creation. The long-sleeved wedding gown looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hand-sewn beads caught the sunlight. Yards and yards of silk and lace cascaded to the ground. With her hair upswept and anchored by an antique tiara, Zara was truly a royal princess.

Cleo figured even she didn’t look half-bad. Her rose-colored gown had been cut low and fell straight from below her bodice. The empire style concealed her stomach, which seemed to have suddenly puffed out in the past couple of days. Zara wore diamonds at her ears and around her throat, while Cleo had been accessorized with pearls. Diamond and pearl earrings glittered on her lobes. A stunning circle of pearls, decorated with a diamond enhancer, draped down to the curve of her breasts.

“I’m going to throw up,” Zara announced.

“You’re going to be fine. Keep smiling and waving. It’s not a big job, especially for someone with all your education.”

Zara laughed again. “Okay. You’re distracting me. I like that.”

Cleo switched her cascade of flowers to her other hand. “I’m having second thoughts about refusing the tiara. Do you think I should have worn it?”

Zara glanced at her spiky hair. “Could we have anchored it?”

They had a detailed conversation about the pros and cons of hair accessories, then Cleo switched the conversation to shoes. They pulled up in front of the church before Zara had a chance to realize where they were.

A uniformed guard approached their carriage. King Hassan had ridden with the groom in a carriage in front of theirs. The princes shared the one behind Zara’s, with Sabrina and her husband bringing up the rear.

The small door was opened and Cleo rose to exit first assisted by the waiting footmen. She managed to get down the two steps without falling. Although she didn’t actually look for Sadik, she was aware of him. The man watched her constantly. She tried to take comfort in his attention, but knew that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the baby.

Don’t go there now, she told herself. This day was about Zara.

Her sister managed to get out of the carriage without a mishap. Sabrina joined them, urging them into the church. At the top of the stairs leading into the building, they turned and waved to the waiting crowd. A cheer rose.

“Keep breathing,” Sabrina said as they stepped into the cool darkness of the foyer.

Sabrina’s husband had already escorted the groom and the princes up the aisle. The organ music changed, cueing the women that it was time.

Sabrina stood in front, with Cleo to follow. Hassan stopped and kissed his daughter, then stepped next to Cleo.

“You are beauty personified,” he murmured, touching his lips to her cheek. “I am most proud.”

Cleo wondered if he was talking about the baby. As far as she could tell, the king still didn’t know that Sadik was the father, but maybe his son had told him the truth. Either way, this wasn’t the time for a lengthy conversation.

She gave Hassan a smile. He squeezed her hand, then moved behind her to stand next to Zara.

The twenty-foot double wooden doors opened, revealing the crowded church and the long center aisle. Cleo’s stomach clenched.

Sabrina turned around and winked. “Show time,” she said in a stage whisper. “If you get nervous, picture everyone naked.”

Chapter Six

C leo hadn’t thought the actual wedding through. She’d seen the stacks and stacks of replies from every corner of the globe. She’d seen the gift rooms and had attended the rehearsal in the massive church. But nothing had prepared her for the vast space to be crammed full of members of the extended royal family, visiting dignitaries, family friends and a couple of thousand guests.

Organ music soared to the arched ceiling of the fourteenth-century church. Saints watched from stained-glass windows, their hands outstretched.

Cleo found herself shaking with unexpected nerves. The only thing that kept her going was watching Sabrina ahead of her. Zara’s half sister moved slowly, in time with the music. Cleo kept her pace even as she struggled to not turn and run.

She could hear the faint murmurings of the guests as they watched her. At least her bouquet of flowers cascaded down to her knees, hiding her bulging belly. She didn’t want there to be any speculation—not on Zara’s day.

As she approached the front of the church, she saw Rafe. He grinned at her, then looked past her as the organ music shifted to the wedding march. Everyone stood. Cleo wanted to turn around and watch her sister, but she still had about ten feet to go. Her gaze lingered on Rafe, and she watched his expression change to one of love and wonder. He looked as if he’d been waiting for Zara all his life.

Perhaps he had, Cleo thought as she stepped into place next to Sabrina. Perhaps she was his one true love.

Cleo casually glanced at Sadik, who stood behind Prince Kardal, who was Sabrina’s husband. Sadik didn’t seem to care that the bride had entered the church. He stared at Cleo as if he could claim her with a look.

She fought against a feeling of sadness. Possession was not love, and whatever feelings he had for her were just about the baby. Intense longing filled her—longing for what Zara had. A family, a man who loved her more than anyone in the world, a place to belong. Was it so wrong to want to be a part of something? She’d spent her whole life on the fringes, always on the outside looking in. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to change.

Cleo shook off her unhappy thoughts and turned her attention to her sister. Zara looked like a princess as she walked up the aisle, her father escorting her. Everything about the moment was perfect, and no more than Zara deserved.

Kissing the bride was not a part of the Bahania ceremony, but Rafe did it, anyway. Cleo joined in the spontaneous applause as the couple clung to each other before turning and facing their happy guests. Bells rang, the vibrant sound echoing in the church.

The bride and groom started down the aisle. Cleo went next, expecting to link arms with Kardal, but he had shifted positions with Sadik, and she found herself close to the one man who could—despite everything—still take her breath away.

“You are radiance itself,” he murmured as they strolled down the aisle. He nodded at several guests. No doubt rulers of distant lands and personal friends of the family.

“Thank you.”

As they had on the way up, the crowd continued to overwhelm her. This was for real, she thought, stunned and amazed. Her foster sister, the same person she’d fought with about bathroom time and who had once tried to pierce her ears with a sewing needle was an honest-to-goodness princess married to a sheik.

Even more shattering she, Cleo, was walking down the aisle of an eight-hundred-year-old church, next to a prince who could trace his bloodline back a thousand years. Oh, and she was pregnant by him.

Her head spun when they stepped outside and she saw that thousands had gathered around the church. In a special area set up to the left of the church, several dozen television crews reported on the event for the international news. Still cameras flashed, taking pictures everywhere.

The horse-drawn carriages stood waiting. After Rafe and Zara moved off in theirs, Sadik helped her into the next one. Thank goodness Kardal and Sabrina sat with them. Cleo didn’t think she was capable of forming words let alone dealing with Sadik right now.

“You look shell-shocked,” Sabrina said kindly as their carriage started forward. “I’m not surprised. This is a little overwhelming for me and I’ve been through it before.”

Cleo nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak she would either scream or cry. Neither would be especially helpful.

They returned to the palace. Pictures were taken, then the royal family joined the reception already in progress.

The largest palace ballroom had been transformed into fairyland, Cleo thought, still dazed. Thousands of yards of beaded tulle decorated the walls and pillars. Lights twinkled beside a cascading waterfall that hadn’t been there just a few days before. Buffets had been set up against three walls, and there seemed to be enough food to take care of several nations at once. A large orchestra played continuously. Champagne fountains flowed at both ends of the head table where Cleo found she had been seated next to Sadik. His doing, no doubt.

She managed to go through the motions, toasting her sister, offering best wishes, meeting people. Sadik stayed at her side for much of the afternoon. When Rafe and Zara disappeared to change for their honeymoon, he swept her into his arms and danced with her.

“I think they will enjoy their time away,” he said, speaking quietly into her ear.

“Yes. They will.” Her mouth felt numb. She knew she was talking, but she couldn’t feel her lips moving.

The king had arranged for the newlyweds to spend several weeks on his private yacht. They would cruise through the Mediterranean, then up the coast of Spain to France and England.

Her gaze swept over the room and something inside of her snapped. This wasn’t her world; she didn’t belong here. Nothing about the situation felt right.

But even as she prepared to run, she felt a fluttering sensation in her belly. Her baby turned or kicked, or maybe just waved. It was enough to remind her that there was more at stake than her own desire to belong. If she left, she would have to abandon her child, and Cleo was willing to walk through hell before ever doing that.

Yet compromise seemed hopeless. How were she and Sadik supposed to come to terms? Obviously, she would have to live in Bahania, but how? She refused to be supported, assuming that was what he had in mind. Yet who was going to give the former mistress of a royal prince any kind of job?

Sadik watched the light fade from Cleo’s blue eyes. She had begun the morning bursting with happiness for her sister, but somehow over the past few hours it had slowly disappeared until she looked wounded.

He did not like to think of her so, and tried to shake off the image. Still, there was no energy in her speech, and she only picked at her food.

Rafe and Zara waved to their guests and ducked out the far door. Sadik took advantage of the distraction and quickly ushered Cleo toward a side exit that led to the private wing of the palace.

“Where are we going?” she demanded, showing spirit for the first time that afternoon.

“I think we have things to discuss.”

“Oh, sure. Now you want to talk. Isn’t that just like a man. Before, when I had things to say, you weren’t interested. You were all caught up in finding out about the baby. Well maybe I don’t want to talk to you.”

Sadik ignored her outburst, just as he ignored the way she tugged on his hand as if trying to escape.

“There is no point,” he said calmly, continuing to lead the way. “I have no plans to release you.”

“That’s my big fear.”

When they reached the double doors leading into his private quarters, he slowed to study her. Cleo stared at the doors as if they led to a prison.

He smiled. “I promise I will not have you tortured once you step inside.”

“It’s not the torture I’m afraid of.”

Was she remembering, as he was, what had happened the last time they had been in these rooms together? Passion had exploded between them until they’d had no choice but to give in. They’d made love endlessly, every chance they had, clinging to each other, touching, taking, offering. He’d never known such desire.

He opened the door, then stepped back to allow her to go first. Cleo entered cautiously, glancing around as if checking to see all was as she remembered.

“Nothing has changed,” he told her.

“If you’re talking about the furniture, I guess you’re right. If you mean everything else, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

She crossed the large living room to the French doors that led to the common balcony. From there it was a relatively short walk back to her own suite. But she didn’t try to escape. Instead she simply pressed her fingers against the glass.

“This is how birds must feel,” she said quietly. “They can see to the other side, but something invisible prevents them from flying away.”

He frowned. “Of what do you speak?”

She sighed. “Nothing. Everything. The wedding went very well.”

The change of topic confused him. “I’m sure Zara and Rafe will be very happy.”

She nodded but didn’t say more. Drawn by a certainty that something was very wrong, he crossed to stand behind her. “What troubles you?”

She shook her head. He saw a single tear slide down her cheek.

Had she defied him, he could have fought her on equal terms and been confident in his victory. But fragility baffled him—especially in Cleo. She was the most tempting woman he’d ever met, and while her beauty kept him enthralled, he found her willingness to fearlessly clash with him one of her most intriguing features.

“What pains you so?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I am an intelligent, successful man who knows much of the world. I am sure I could follow along.”

She looked at him. Tears glittered in her large, blue eyes. She swallowed. “All those months, you never tried to get in touch with me. I doubt you even thought of me. Then the second you found out I’m pregnant, you suddenly act as if you own me. I’m trapped like a bird in a cage. I can’t leave and take my child, and I won’t abandon my baby. So here I am. No choices, no life, save that of being the vessel for your child. It’s not exactly the future I had envisioned for myself.”

He didn’t know which comment to address first, then went with the one he most understood.

“You left my bed.”

She stared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I did not ask you to leave—you simply chose to go away.”

“We’ve been over this material before. Yes, I left before you asked me to. I’m sure you were heartbroken for a nanosecond. So what?”

“Why would I reward such inappropriate behavior by contacting you?”

“I am not your wayward teenager. You have no right to find my behavior wanting and then punish me for it.” She glared at him as if he were the most stupid man on earth. “Well?”

Sadik would not have admitted it, even under torture, but he didn’t know what to say to her. Of course he hadn’t gotten in touch with her. For one thing he’d known that she was returning for her sister’s wedding. For another, she had left him. No matter how much he explained the gravity of her disobedience, she refused to understand. He had wanted her in his bed. It was a great honor to be desired by him. He had lavished her with attention and had tried to do the same with gifts, and she had walked out. He resented her ability to simply turn her back on him.

Not that he’d missed her, he reminded himself, refusing to acknowledge the emptiness he’d felt when she disappeared from his life. He had barely thought of her at all.

“You are not a trapped bird,” he said, trying a different tack. “As the mother of my son, you will be revered.”

She rolled her eyes, then turned her attention back to the view of the ocean beyond the glass doors. “You’re impossible. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to have this conversation.”

Sadik would never get it, Cleo thought. And she couldn’t explain without confessing things she didn’t want to say. He’d made it more than clear that he resented her having the strength of will to leave him before he was ready to have her go, but he’d never admitted to even one tender feeling. If he’d said he liked her, that would help.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“That I want to go home.”

“This is your home now.”

That’s what she was afraid of.

She stared unseeingly at the ocean, wishing she could stow away on Zara’s honeymoon yacht, then make her escape in Spain. Although without money or a passport she wouldn’t get far. If she’d thought this through, she would have made alternative plans for her—

A warm, soft pressure on her bare shoulder caught her attention. Cleo’s breath stalled in her throat as Sadik bent lower and kissed her skin again. As her dress wasn’t loose enough for him to simply pull it off her shoulders, she had to guess that while she’d been deep in thought, he’d been unfastening her zipper. Geez—and she hadn’t even noticed!

He tilted his head and moved closer, nibbling on the side of her neck. Shivers made her break out in goose bumps while liquid desire poured through her.

Just for a second she promised herself as her eyes closed. She would only give in for a little bit and then she would pull away and tell him this was a mistake. After all, Sadik was four hundred kinds of wrong for her, and making love with him would only complicate the situation.

It’s not as if he can get you pregnant.

The small voice in her head made a lot of sense, she thought hazily as his hot breath caressed her. He kissed across the back of her neck—soft, teasing kisses that made it nearly impossible to stay standing. She and Sadik might come from different worlds and have completely different views of things, but they sure got along in bed.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. She had to stay in control. While it was true that she couldn’t get any more pregnant than she was, there were other ramifications if they made love. What about the state of her heart? Wasn’t she at risk? Isn’t that the reason she’d run home in the first place?

“You think too much,” Sadik complained as he turned her in his arms and pulled her close. “I can hear the chatter. Stop thinking. Only feel.”

Before she could work up an indignant reply, he kissed her mouth.

The sensation was both tempting and familiar. So familiar, she thought with a sigh. His strong arms encircled her body, allowing her the illusions of being both delicate and petite. He held her with a combination of passion and possession that should have annoyed her but only made her want him more.

He didn’t deepen their kiss. Not at first. Instead he teased her with light pressure and tiny nibbles. He sucked on her lower lip, then finally, when she couldn’t stand it anymore, brushed her tongue with his.

Fire shot through her. Against her will Cleo wrapped her arms around him. She felt his strength, the broadness of his back. He was tall and every inch a male. Already she was damp and swelling as her body prepared itself for him. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted him inside of her. She needed to make love with him with a desperation that left her both breathless and afraid.

When he broke the kiss, she moaned a protest. He laughed. “Come, my goddess. I will not make you wait long. But I think we would do better on my bed.”

He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom she remembered so well. It was large and filled with masculine oversize furniture. She remembered teasing him about the size of his bed and the dresser. He could have parties for large groups on the former. She’d been joking, but he’d taken her words seriously.

“No one could touch you,” he’d growled, claiming her with a kiss. She was his alone. His to desire, his to take, his to pleasure.

Cleo remembered how much she’d wanted the words to be true for more than an afternoon. But they hadn’t been. And nothing had changed.

Maybe this was a mistake.

She turned to the prince. “Sadik, I don’t think we should do this.”

“We must,” he said simply, and reached for the necklace clasp at the base of her neck.

When he’d removed her jewelry, he had her sit in a chair in the corner. Gently, nearly reverently, he removed her shoes. When her open-toed, high-heeled sandals hit the floor, she started to rise. Maybe to help him or maybe to run. She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t get the opportunity.

Sadik put a restraining hand on her arm. “Not yet.” Then he raised her dress to her thighs and bent down to kiss the inside of her knees.

Even as his lips pressed against her skin, he moved his hands up and down her legs. His long fingers touched every inch of her calves, before moving higher and stroking her thighs. As he caressed her and reduced her to a melting shell of desire, he spoke of his pleasure in her body.

“So rich and lush,” he murmured, licking the inside of her thigh and making her squirm. “Your scent intoxicates me, Cleo. So far I do not see any changes, but I know they are there. The thought of your body growing big with my son excites me.”

She was torn between wanting to be with him and knowing it was a big mistake. What tipped the scale was the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be one of those men who found a pregnant woman as unsexy as a cow. Cleo had spent her entire life insecure about her short body and womanly curves. Somehow she’d never felt as if everything went together. Even though she’d had plenty of male attention, it hadn’t been the right kind. But Sadik’s words always seemed to hit her where she lived. She believed he genuinely adored every inch of her—pregnant or not. He made her feel irresistible, and that combined with her need for him made him irresistible, as well.

He straightened and slipped off his jacket, then loosened his tie and his cuffs. Without saying a word, he rose, then helped her to her feet. They crossed to the bed, where he finished unzipping her dress. The rose-colored garment fell to the floor.

Sadik gazed at her breasts, which had become enlarged in the past couple of months, then at her swelling belly. She’d felt unattractive and awkward right up until he smiled in delight and gathered her close.

He kissed her with a reverence that broke through her defenses and left her wanting and vulnerable. Her arms came up of their own accord. She clung to him, needing to feel him pressing against her. She knew that he was already aroused, but the feel of his hardness reassured her and fueled her body’s passion.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose and her chin. He licked the hollow of her throat, then journeyed lower to the edge of her bra where he lightly teased the exposed curves.

Sadik had been right when he’d said she couldn’t possibly be with another man after being with him. As he touched her, she found herself remembering what it had been like when they’d been together before. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, no matter how long she lived.

He reached behind her and unfastened her bra. As if he knew her breasts were tender, he cupped her curves as the bra slipped down. He gently rubbed his lips against her tight nipples, not pressing at all, just teasing until they grew more rigid and heat seemed to flare from every inch of her skin.

“So beautiful,” he breathed.

She thought about pointing out that the veins seemed more prominent than the last time he’d seen her chest and that her skin flushed more easily. She could have done twenty minutes on how she was ambivalent about her growing belly—both appreciating that she was carrying a healthy child and hating that she was getting fatter by the day.

But when he licked her right nipple, all rational thought fled. What did body image matter when one could be in the arms of a man who knew how to make her feel incredible?

He helped her onto the bed and settled next to her. Somewhere along the way he had discarded his shoes and socks, along with his dress shirt. As Cleo brushed her hand against his bare chest, he stroked her arms, then lightly traced the hollow between her breasts.

“I see many changes,” he said softly, and kissed her mouth. “You have grown even more beautiful. I can’t wait to see you big and round. You will leave grown men weeping with desire.”

She smiled. “I can’t wait for that, either. Seeing as I’ve never had a grown man weep with desire, I figure I’m due.”

He moved his hand down to the swell of her belly. “You are the most perfect woman. So many curves. Your flesh yields to me with a softness designed to please a man.”

At barely two inches over five feet, Cleo had battled with her weight all her life. Those last fifteen pounds constantly crept up on her, and she had to struggle for weeks to get them off. Sadik had seen her at the high end of her weight cycle. After ten minutes of his verbal worship, she’d been ready to toss out her Diet Delight food scale forever.

He placed his hand on her stomach. Pride darkened his eyes.

She knew he’d gone all male and “this is my son,” but before she could slap his arm away or remind him the baby might be a girl, he moved lower.

Her hips immediately pulsed in anticipation. Sadik helped her off with her panties, then slowly slipped his fingers between her thighs.

She was already slick with wanting. He smiled when he encountered damp curls and the swollen flesh beyond.

“Always ready,” he murmured, and kissed her belly. “Your desire makes me want to forget myself, but then I would miss pleasing you.”

He shifted slightly and licked her breasts. As his tongue stroked one sensitive nipple, his fingers sought and found her point of greatest sensitivity. He explored the small knot of nerves, rubbing lightly, circling, slipping away and then returning.

It had been so long, Cleo thought, as intense feelings filled her. Somehow, from the first, he’d known the exact rhythm to bring her to the edge in about forty seconds. Even as his thumb stroked, his middle finger slipped inside and pushed up. She felt her body contract.

Not yet, she thought frantically, trying to disconnect from what they were doing. It was too soon. She hated the power he had over her, even as she began to surrender.

He continued to touch her. Her body was on fire, and with every moment of contact, the flames licked higher. If he would just stop sucking on her breast, or take his finger out of her, she might have a shot at control. If he would just—

Surrender caught her unaware. Her body tensed, and without warning the tremors began. Her breath caught as she went rigid, then relaxed completely as he moved lightly against her trembling flesh, urging her on and drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

When she had finally returned to sanity, he moved down on the bed.

“Sadik, I’m more than content,” she murmured. “Really, you don’t have to do any more.”

“Perhaps I want to.”

She knew what he would do next and parted her thighs. As he knelt between her legs, she drew up her knees and dug her heels into the mattress.

The first time he’d insisted on this most intimate kiss after he’d already brought her to climax, she’d flat-out told him he was crazy. She was done. It had been great, but her time at the party was over.

He had managed to convince her otherwise.

Now he lowered his head and licked her. She was exquisitely sensitive and the feel of his tongue on her nearly brought her up into a sitting position. Heat flooded her, making her want to beg him to hurry, even as she needed the experience to go on for as long as possible.

He carried her higher and higher, and when she was close to exploding, he gently put a finger inside of her.

The back and forth movement mimicked the act to follow. He used both his mouth and his finger, first one and then two, until she was on the verge of climaxing. Then he used only his finger until the tension subsided.

Over and over he repeated the process until finally she felt herself falling. Slow, rolling releases surged through her body. They were like the tide, rushing in, one after the other, then slowly withdrawing. The lower intensity meant she could continue indefinitely and he drew the surreal experience on for several minutes.

When it became impossible for her to catch her breath, he stopped long enough to remove his trousers and briefs. Then he knelt between her legs and entered her.

At the first whisper of contact, she began to climax again. He pushed in, filling her, making her cling to him. They gazed into each other’s eyes, connecting in the most intimate way possible. With each thrust he pushed her over the edge.

She tried to hold back, to stop and gain some control, but it was impossible. Being with him had always made her surrender.

He moved slowly, making them both wait. She finally knew that she couldn’t hold on any longer.

She tightened her muscles as hard as she could and tilted her hips. The unexpected action made him stiffen, then he called out her name, his voice hoarse. One more quick thrust and his body shuddered inside of her. Her own muscles contracted around him in a final release, sucking the last of her strength. She lay on the bed unable to move, barely able to breathe, sated beyond all reasonable expectation.

“I’d forgotten you were this good in bed,” she managed to say.

Sadik chuckled. “No, my goddess. You had not forgotten a thing.”

Of course he was telling the truth, but two could play at that game. “Had you?”

His smiled faded. “No. Not even when I tried.”

Chapter Seven

O kay, so the fact that he hadn’t forgotten about how good they were in bed meant what? Cleo tried to figure out if there were any nuances to his words, or if she should respond in some way. But before she could come up with a strategy, Sadik bent low and kissed her breasts.

“The color of your nipples has changed,” he said.

Cleo half raised herself to look. “Really?”

“You have not noticed?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “I have to admit I don’t spend a lot of my day looking at myself naked.”

Sadik brushed her belly with his hand. “I would spend all day gazing at you naked, if it were possible.”

The postlovemaking glow left her vulnerable. She didn’t think this was a good time to be listening to his compliments. They would only get her in trouble. The true disaster would be if she actually started to believe they meant something.

He nuzzled her belly. “And here, you have a dark line forming.” He placed his hands on either side of her stomach. “You carry my son.”

She stretched back on the bed. “The baby could be a girl. You might want to consider that.”

He ignored her…like that was a surprise. “My son. The first male grandchild of the king of Bahania.”

“I’m done arguing about the baby’s gender,” she told him. “Just be prepared to be wrong.”

His self-satisfied smile made her want to cuff him. “I am never wrong.”

She started to respond but was distracted by fluttering in her belly. “It’s happening,” she said, knowing she was crazy for wanting to share this with him.

But the baby’s tiny signs of life were precious to her, and there was no one else on the planet who would care as much, except for Sadik.

“Show me,” he demanded.

She took his hands and shifted them to the side. He pressed in slightly, then grinned when he felt the vibration.

“He is strong.”

“Apparently.”

Sadik was still as the movements continued. His hands were warm and comforting. As she watched, his expression tightened. His eyes darkened with emotion. It took her a couple of seconds to figure out he felt love for their unborn child. Love and adoration.

On the one hand Cleo knew she should be happy that he was so accepting of the baby’s presence. He could have been annoyed or denied that it was his. Then she reminded herself that if he were to have denied the child, she would have been free to leave. So that would have been a good thing.

Or would it? Perversely, she was glad he wanted their baby, even though it completely messed up her life. She hadn’t allowed herself to think through all the ramifications of having to live here. She had no idea what she was going to do with herself or what her role would be.

Now, seeing how much Sadik cared for his unborn child, she felt a dangerous stirring in her heart. She’d been doing her best to ignore her feelings for him ever since she’d run away, but if he kept up his adoration of the baby, she might not have a choice in the matter.

The movements slowed, then stopped. Sadik kissed her belly, then climbed out of bed. He stood there naked, obviously unconcerned that she could look her fill. His body was darned impressive, she thought, studying the outline of muscles, his flat belly and long legs. Not that she was as old-fashioned as the prince, but she had to admit she’d hit the genetic jackpot with her baby’s father.

“We will be married,” Sadik announced.

Cleo stared at him. Her brain absorbed the words and promptly rejected them. Her heart jumped, and she instantly felt way too undressed to be having this conversation.

“Excuse me?”

“You are to be the mother of my child. It is right that we should be married.”

A coldness settled in her bones. Cleo could barely breathe as she sat up, then slipped off the bed. She ignored Sadik as she collected her clothes.

Married? He wasn’t serious. Yet she knew he was. He would marry her for the baby. Of course. Why hadn’t she realized that before? For the child all things were possible. A combination of rage and hurt flooded her, making her actions jerky.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she pulled on her panties and reached for her bra.

“I would think that is obvious,” she snapped. “I’m getting dressed, then I’m getting out of here. I should never have come. I’m sorry we made love.”

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to keep moving. It was as if he’d attacked her with a club instead of with words. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Cleo couldn’t have said why she was so upset. She simply knew that she had to get alone and be by herself before she lost control.

“You are not going anywhere,” Sadik announced, still beautiful, still naked.

She refused to look at him. “You would be wrong about that,” she said as she slipped into her dress. It took a shimmy or two for her to pull up the zipper, but she managed it. She’d left her flowers at the reception. She had a very expensive necklace somewhere in Sadik’s rooms, but she would worry about that another time. After slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.

He stalked over and grabbed her arm. “You are not going anywhere,” he repeated, obviously annoyed by her reaction. “I have said we are to be married. It is a great honor. You will be my wife, a princess of Bahania. How dare you not be pleased.”

She jerked free and glared at him. “To be honest, Your Highness, I’d rather eat glass.”

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Sadik spluttered, but he wasn’t dressed to give chase.

At first Cleo walked, but after a couple of minutes, she slipped off her shoes and ran down the long corridors. She made her way back to her suite and let herself in.

When the door was safely closed and she found herself alone, her legs seemed to give way. She sank onto the floor. After dropping her shoes, she pulled her legs to her chest—as much as she could—and rested her head on her knees.

Great painful sobs welled up inside of her. She tried to hold back, then figured there wasn’t much point. Who was she trying to impress?

Cleo cried as if her heart was breaking. A combination of sadness and anger fueled her emotions, and for several minutes she simply allowed her feelings to vent. When the storm had passed, she rose and went in search of a tissue.

She avoided looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. After blowing her nose, she stripped out of her fancy dress and slipped into her robe. The cotton folds were familiar and comforting. She cracked the French doors leading to the balcony, then crawled into the bed and rested her face against the cool fabric of the pillowcase.

Sadik wanted to marry her.

Just thinking the sentence made her eyes well up with tears. She started to get angry again.

“What’s going on?” she asked aloud.

There wasn’t an answer. Only the faint sound of music from the reception still going strong. Cleo curled up, feeling alone, lost and confused. Sadik’s offering to marry her was the honorable thing to do. Why did it bother her so?

She tucked her hands under the pillow as she considered her feelings. For one thing, his proposal hadn’t been an offer. He’d announced they were getting married. Not that his actions were a surprise. Sadik pretty much took what he wanted and dealt with any consequences later. What was the old staying? Ask forgiveness, not permission.

Except Sadik was a prince, so forgiveness was rarely needed.

He wanted to marry her. Why was that bad? It answered her question of what was to become of her when the baby was born. In fact, now that she was able to think straight, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sadik wouldn’t want his firstborn child to be illegitimate.

Cleo closed her eyes and sighed. That was it, she realized. Everything about his wanting to marry her was based on the child. It wasn’t about her. If it weren’t for the baby, he wouldn’t have had anything to do with her—except for a possible invitation to join him in bed. Which he’d done, anyway.

It was the baby he cared about, not her. Not her.

Cleo rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She remembered the last time she’d been here. Sadik had seduced more than her body—he’d found his way into her heart. She’d been smarter then. She’d known that there was no way she could find happiness with a handsome prince, so she’d cut her losses and headed back home.

Secretly she’d hoped he would come after her. She’d waited for the phone call that never came. Gradually she’d realized that he’d forgotten her.

But she’d been unable to forget him. Because she’d allowed herself to care and because she’d given herself to him.

A combination of parental abandonment and a big chip on her shoulder had sent Cleo into the world with something to prove. When she’d made the transition from girl to woman, her body had matured years before her emotions. All the attention she’d received in high school had been a balm to her wounded heart. She’d thought her curves were far from the ideal of thin and thinner, but the boys had adored her.

So she’d given in, because at sixteen the line between sex and love often blurred. By the time she’d turned twenty, she’d figured out that there was a line, but being sexually available was a hard habit to break.

When she turned twenty-one, she vowed she would never give her body unless she also handed over her heart.

Then she’d met Ian. He managed a pet supply store and they’d bonded over a particularly complex printing order. He’d invited her for coffee.

As he’d been the first man she’d met after her vow, she’d promised herself to go slow. It hadn’t been difficult. Ian was sensitive and kind, about as opposite from the guys she usually dated as it was possible to be.

She shifted on the bed as the uncomfortable memories returned. She remembered laughing with Ian. Talking late into the night. She remembered sharing hopes and dreams. He’d talked about wanting to get married and have a family. For the first time ever she’d allowed herself to believe that a normal life was possible, even for someone like her.

When their relationship had moved to the next level, she’d found herself eager to make love with him. While he hadn’t been all that exciting in bed, he’d been caring and attentive, if a little clumsy. She’d known she could be with him for the rest of her life.

Her bubble burst when a friend mentioned seeing Ian with another woman. At first Cleo had been too content to worry much, but eventually she’d asked him about her. Ian had told her the other woman was his fiancée.

Cleo rolled back on her side and covered her face. That moment was forever frozen in her mind. The disbelief at first. How she’d thought he was kidding, even though it was a pretty awful joke.

“I’m marrying Sandy,” Ian had repeated.

“What about us?” Cleo couldn’t remember being more stunned as his words sunk in. He wasn’t kidding. This wasn’t a joke.

“There’s no us.”

She’d been stunned by the contempt in his voice and the lack of caring in his eyes. Then he did the unthinkable. He laughed at her.

“Did you really think any of this mattered?” he asked, still chuckling. “Come on, Cleo. This was my last fling before settling down. I told you I wanted to get married and have kids.” He looked at her as if she were the most stupid person on the planet. “You didn’t really think I was serious about you? You’re the kind of woman guys sleep with, but you’re sure as hell not the kind we marry.”

Even now the words burned down to her soul. Somehow he’d found out about her past, she’d thought at the time. Or maybe the truth had been there for him to see. Maybe he didn’t need to know her past. Maybe just by looking at her he could tell that she was worthless.

Broken and bleeding, Cleo had gone home. She hadn’t told anyone what Ian had said, but she’d been unable to forget. That night, sometime between midnight and dawn, she’d vowed to never care about a man again. No matter who he was or what he said, she wouldn’t give in.

Two years after her self-imposed ban on relationships, she’d flown with her sister to Bahania, where she’d met a handsome prince. He’d charmed her and made her feel special. When he’d held her in his arms, she could tell that he thought she was amazing. It had been a temptation she’d been unable to resist.

And now that man wanted to marry her. But not for herself. Not because he loved her and couldn’t imagine a world without her, but because she was pregnant with his child. Without the baby she was nothing.

Cleo forced herself to breathe slowly. She didn’t want to cry again. She didn’t want to feel anymore. Certainly she didn’t want her feelings for Sadik to continue to grow.

Why had she given in? Why had she allowed herself to turn her back on her vow? She would pay the price for the rest of her life.

Then the truth settled on her—heavy, thick and inescapable. Her anger came from the death of her fantasy. Deep in her heart she’d wanted him to fall in love with her. Obviously, he hadn’t. Instead he’d gotten on with his life. Now he was going to do the right thing and propose, but that didn’t mean she mattered at all. All her hopes and dreams dried into dust. When they blew away, she would have only an ugly reality made up of two inescapable elements: a man who had married her out of duty and a heart hungry for so much more.

“Cleo?”

Cleo stirred, recognized Sadik’s voice and groaned. After a sleepless night she’d finally fallen into a light doze shortly after dawn, only to awaken a half hour ago with unexpected and unwelcome morning sickness.

Having thrown up and brushed her teeth, all she wanted was a chance to sleep for the rest of the morning.

“Go away,” she called, knowing he would be able to tell she’d cried long into the night. Unfortunately, despite the size of the suite, there wasn’t anywhere for her to hide.

He strolled into her bedroom looking tall and fit, as if he’d rested well. He probably had, she thought bitterly. No ghosts from his past had kept him up into the wee hours. As far as he was concerned, everything was settled.

He approached the bed, then settled on the mattress next to her. He smoothed her spiky bangs off her face. “You do not look well.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Rest is important for the baby.”

“I know that,” she said between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to see you. Please leave.”

He ignored her. Like that was a surprise. After taking her hand in his, he brought it to his mouth where he kissed first her knuckles, then, turning her hand, the inside of her wrist. Cleo really hated the shivers that instantly danced up her arm and then shimmied around the rest of her body.

“We will need to be married quickly,” he said, as if picking up a conversation that had recently been interrupted. “The baby will come early, but that is of no consequence. The future prince will be the light of my life. My father will also be delighted. A first grandson. That is an event of great happiness here in the kingdom. It has been many years since there was a baby in the palace.”

He frowned slightly. “I will have to research the correct naming of our son. There are traditions to be upheld. Also there are certain schools I wish to contact. They will hold a place for him. Do you know when the baby is due?”

She stared at him. They weren’t actually having this conversation. No, this had to be some kind of strange dream or out-of-body experience.

When she didn’t answer right away, Sadik just kept on talking. “When you know for sure, let me know. Not that it matters for the schools. They are always pleased to have a member of the royal family attending. The British schools are excellent, but as you are American, that might be better.”

His lips kept flapping. Cleo couldn’t believe all that he was saying. He wanted to talk about schools and universities, while their child wasn’t much bigger than Sadik’s palm.

“You can make all the plans you want,” she said, “but I haven’t changed my mind. I’m not marrying you.”

Sadik looked mildly annoyed. He returned his attention to her wrist where he did slightly illegal things with his tongue. She felt herself starting to melt, so she snatched her hand free of his hold and sank deeper into the bed.

“You are pregnant with my child,” he said, as if speaking to a child. “The firstborn grandchild of the king of Bahania cannot be born illegitimate. Nor would I allow such a thing. We will be married.” He hesitated, then almost as an afterthought asked, “Why do you resist marrying me?”

At last he wanted to know what she thought of all this. The good news was she’d cried herself out last night. This morning there just plain weren’t any tears left. So she was able to listen to him go on about marrying for the sake of the baby without feeling more than a stab or two to her heart.

“You’re only interested in the baby,” she said. “I’m willing to be cooperative, but getting married isn’t an option.”

Sadik stood and glared down at her. “I honor you by this proposal.”

“No, you honor yourself. You don’t care about me at all. The baby is all that matters. Frankly, I don’t see that as a recipe for happiness, so why would I want to commit to staying here with you for the rest of my life?”

Her words seemed to have genuinely shocked him. He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. I am proposing.”

“I don’t think your station in life is a big surprise to me at this point, and I got that there was a proposal on the table.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. It was time to tell him the truth…or as much as she could say without giving away too much. “I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t care about me.”

“We have mutual respect and passion. That is a strong beginning for a marriage.” He frowned. “I will not be taking another wife. Is that your concern? Not only does Bahanian law forbid it, but I find you difficult enough.”

She supposed that was something.

They were at an impasse. Bottom line—he’d given his heart to Kamra and it was no longer available. Even if it was, she was hardly going to be his first choice for happily ever after.

“Mutual respect and passion isn’t enough, Sadik,” she said gently. “You’re not listening, and you’re not thinking this through. I’m the wrong woman for you to marry. Can you really see me as a princess?”

“Of course.”

He answered without thinking. In a way it was really sweet, but totally unrealistic.

She hadn’t wanted to get into this. To be honest, she didn’t want him to know the truth about her past. But it seemed that she didn’t have a choice.

She scooted over in the bed, then patted the mattress. “Have a seat.”

When he settled next to her, she studied his face. His dark eyes, the sharp plane of his cheeks, the firm, stubborn jaw. What on earth had she been thinking, falling for a handsome prince? Of course, if he hadn’t been handsome, the situation still would have been really complicated.

“I want to cooperate,” she said slowly. “I’m resigned to staying here. I know I can’t take my child and hide out from you. Not only would you eventually catch me, but it would be wrong.” She drew in a deep breath. “We can come to terms about the baby, but I can’t marry you.”

Annoyance clouded his face. He started to rise, but she put a restraining hand on his arm. “Hear me out, Sadik.”

“Women are always difficult,” he muttered.

“Perhaps, but I’m being difficult for a good reason.” She bit her lower lip. She tried to forget her past as much as possible. Her circumstances had nearly broken her many times, but she’d always found the courage to go on. She was going to have to do that again.

“I’m pretty sure my parents were married,” she began. “I never found a marriage license, but my mother said they were, and I have my dad’s name. I never knew him. He died before I was born. He overdosed on drugs.”

Sadik’s expression turned unreadable, but she guessed he hadn’t expected to hear this kind of story.

“My mother was also an addict. She was in and out of rehab or jail for as long as I can remember. She’d usually leave me with a neighbor. Sometimes the state stuck me in foster care. Sometimes she just disappeared and I did the best I could until she showed up again.”

Cleo spoke the words without considering their meaning. If she actually focused on what she was saying, the past overwhelmed her and she found herself drowning in the memories. It was far better to stay disconnected.

“There were times when we lived with her friends and times when we didn’t have anywhere to go. I remember spending nights on the streets or in shelters.”

“How old were you?” Sadik asked.

She didn’t look at him. Instead she stared at the blanket covering her, at the weave of the cotton and the smoothness of the fibers she rubbed between her fingers.

“I don’t know. Young. I remember being about four or five and hiding in a doorway. I didn’t go to school much. We were always moving around the city.” She smiled. “I was born in Los Angeles and lived there until I was about eleven. I’ll bet you didn’t know I was from the land of movie stars.”

She risked glancing at him and saw she had his full attention. His dark eyes stared into hers. She looked away because she didn’t want him to see too far into her soul. He would find it a disappointing place.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, things got pretty bad. Mom was sick and then one day she died. The state bounced me around in foster care. I was labeled a problem child. I did badly in school. Then I was placed with Fiona and Zara.” She shrugged. “Fiona was a bit of a flake, but she had a big heart. The first thing she did was buy me all new clothes, along with a big stuffed bear. She told me I was pretty. I pretended not to care, but she was the first person in my life who ever saw me as a real person and not just an inconvenience.”

She had to pause for a second to swallow tears. “Zara was pretty cool. She was smart and cute, but a social retard. We made a good team. She helped me with my schoolwork and I helped her to fit in. When Fiona decided to move on, she simply took me with her. I guess the state lost my paperwork or something because no one ever came looking for me.” She shrugged. “So that’s how I came to be Zara’s foster sister.”

“You survived a great deal,” he said.

She raised her chin and glared at him. “I didn’t tell you all that to get the sympathy vote. My point is I’m hardly princess material. You have to see that.”

“What I see is someone strong enough to overcome humble beginnings. I am impressed by your ability to rise above your circumstances and become the charming, intelligent woman I see before me.”

She groaned. The man was as thick as a plank. “Sadik, get real. I’m not smart. I barely finished high school, and that wouldn’t have happened without Zara. I wanted to go to college, but I didn’t think I could make it.”

“Intelligence and education often have little in common,” he said. “Your spirit and drive bode well for our son.”

She leaned toward him. “Are you listening to even one word I’m saying? What happens when the press finds out about my past? I promise you, they will. They’ll go digging, and that’s what they’ll find.”

“I do not care what they find. Their opinions are of no consequence to me.” He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “You may protest all you want. You may scream and cry and tell me more stories from your past, but make no mistake, we will be married.”