The Sultan's Bed (12 page)

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Authors: Laura Wright

BOOK: The Sultan's Bed
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Fourteen

“H
oney, I'm home.”

A woman's cheerful voice rang through the duplex like a thousand bells. Zayad stirred beneath the sheets, trying to register the sound and where it had come from, but his mind was still muffled from the lack of sleep last night, as he had paid sweet penance for his slip in control the first time around.

Rolling to his side, he reached out for Mariah but snagged only cool sheets. On alert now, he looked up, bright sunlight accosting his vision. She was gone and he was alone. His chest felt heavy. For the first time in his life he did not like waking up alone. It was a dangerous admission, but sleeping beside Mariah had been wonderful, and he would not mind if such an occurrence happened every night.

He shuffled out of bed and reached for his clothes. He threw on his pants and yawned. He was still buttoning his shirt as he walked into the living room.

But it was not the woman he expected to see lounging on the couch, leafing through a pile of mail. It was a woman he had longed to see, a woman who shared Sakir's long, lean body and his youngest brother's full mouth.

The beautiful dark-haired young woman looked up, startled. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello.” Such intensity of feeling ran through his blood as he looked at her. “You must be Jane.”

“Yep, but you're not Mariah.”

Humor glistened in her eyes. In that, she was her mother's daughter. His heart squeezed. His baby sister stood before him, and he was practically speechless.

She inspected him. “So, you're the man who's making my roommate's heart go pittypat.”

“Pittypat?” Confusion hit him and he shook his head. “I surely do not pity her?”

She laughed. “No, no. It's an expression of how a heart beats. I meant Mariah likes you, that's all.”

“Ah. Sometimes the English slang is unintelligible.”

“For me, too, sometimes.” She glanced around. “So, where is Mariah?”

“I am not entirely sure, but if I had to guess, I would say she went to check on something for her case.”

Jane sighed. “Always working. I hope the two of you did more than work while I was gone.”

He sat in the chair opposite her. “There was much time spent on folly.”

Her grin widened and she grabbed a picture of her
and Mariah off the side table. “Good. She needs folly, and by the look of it—” she glanced up “—so do you.”

He returned her grin. She had humor and fire in her blood. She had the soul of an Al-Nayhal—wise, quick. His father would be proud. “Perhaps we can discuss something else? I do not wish to speak of my time with Mariah.” The thought of leaving her was killing him, and the sooner he dealt with the reason for his coming in the first place, the better.

Jane shrugged. “Okay.” Though in her eyes he saw a little unease.

“Let us talk of you.” He sat forward in his chair, ready to hear the wishes and dreams straight from his sister's lips. “Tell me of your passions and your pursuits. How long have you been a chef?”

She looked uncomfortable now but did not evade the question. “Five years.”

“I am sure you are very good at it.”

“I don't know.”

“I know,” Zayad said with deep conviction. The Al-Nayhal family excelled at their pursuits. “And you wish to open a restaurant, I hear?”

“Yes, I do.” She looked around, at the door, at the picture of her and her friend. “Who told you that? Mariah?”

“Mariah and your mother.”

Her head popped back. “You met my mother?”

“On two occasions. She is wonderful.”

“She is. The best parent a girl could have.”

“As was your father—”

She shook her head almost vehemently. “I never knew the man. He died before I was born.”

Zayad crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

 

Mariah stood at the open window and listened, her heart fading back into its protective, sullen and miserable shell.

“I do not wish to speak of my time with Mariah. Let us talk of you.”

And said with such caring, such deep curiosity, no one could deny he was interested.

Mariah sagged against the faded white stucco and fought tears as she listened to him prattle on about what a great chef Jane had to be. Mariah didn't understand. She didn't get how this amazing man who had cared for her, spoiled her, made love to her, was now royally hitting on her roommate.

And yet she could understand.

Her life had been full of these guys, just no one as smooth as this one. And she'd actually thought herself in love with him. How could she have fallen for another player? A guy so obviously into conquest—
get this one all hot, bothered and head over heels, then drop her. The chase is over. Move on to the next one.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she wanted to run away. She hated this feeling, this jumpy sensation, that life was about to come crashing down into a jagged pile of reality.

But even though the instinct to bolt was strong, she'd changed. She wasn't the fearful, angry, bitchy lawyer anymore. She'd felt love again and liked it, regardless of the pain it was bringing on now. There was no way she could run away this time.

Her hand shook a bit as she opened the front door,
her smile, too, as she saw her roommate—who looked beyond uncomfortable and a just a bit pissed off.

“Welcome back, Jane.”

A smile creased Jane's face, and she stood up, ran over to Mariah and gave her a hug. “Oh, M, it's good to see you.”

“You, too.” Mariah pulled back from her. “Listen, can I have a minute with Zayad?”

Complete understanding and support glittered in Jane's eyes and she nodded. “Sure, I'll go unpack. Pizza and a movie later?”

“You're on.”

Jane didn't even wave at Zayad. She was up the stairs in an instant, her door closed.

When Mariah found Zayad's gaze, she wasn't surprised to see him grinning at her. Still as charming as ever. Heck, he even had the balls to look as if he had missed her.

He motioned for her to come to him. “You were out of bed early.”

But she remained where she was. “I wanted to hit the library.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did.” She took a deep breath. “I also found what I was looking for here at home.”

Confusion stripped his features. “I am sorry.”

“Yes, you are.” Nervously, she crossed her arms over her chest, then released them to her sides. No barriers, no protection. Not this time. “Look, Zayad, I was listening outside the window. I heard you with Jane. I heard your compliments and I heard your come-ons.” She laughed, but there was little humor there. “Jeez, I'm
such an idiot. I suspected you wanted Jane from the beginning—I mean, who wouldn't with all those questions. But then when you showed interest in me, I thought maybe I'd imagined your interest in Jane. But obviously I was wrong. You were just making time with me until she was back, right? Until another woman came along, right?”

His black eyes went serious and he stood up, walked over to her. “What you are suggesting is impossible.”

Oh, the arrogance.
“I just heard you, Zayad. ‘Let's not speak of Mariah. Let's talk about you, your passions.' Blah blah blah. That's pretty clear.”

“It may seem that way, however this whole thing is anything but clear.”

“Don't play word games with me.”

“What you heard was only my concern.”

“Concern? For what? You've just met her. You don't know her.”

His gaze didn't flicker. He said, “This seems odd, I know. But if you will just trust me—”

“Trust you? C'mon, Zayad. You know me. You know what I've been through with my lying, cheating ex-husband. After what I just heard, you think trusting you is actually a practical request?”

The doorbell rang.

Then again.

Mariah didn't move.

Zayad raised a brow. “Shall I get that?”

“No. I'll go.” She shook her head with frustration and embarrassment and plain old grief, then turned and went to the door. “I think we're pretty much done here.”

Another coward, Mariah thought as she swung the
door wide. But her thoughts stopped there. Like a scene from a movie, what felt like a hundred flashbulbs erupted in her face.

Fifteen

“T
hey have found me. Come at once.”

Zayad pressed the off button on his cell phone. It was a disaster. First he had made the mistake of turning off the security cameras and commanding his men to back off, as he had wanted more privacy with Mariah. Second he had waited too long to tell Mariah and Jane the truth.

Now he had paparazzi at his door, a sister who thought he was after her and the woman he wanted above all else thinking him a devious rogue.

Though on that last account, she would not be far from the truth.

Jane came running downstairs.

Mariah looked completely incensed. “What the hell is going on here? The press ‘found' you?” Total bewil
derment etched her features. She gestured toward Jane. “One moment I was accusing you of hitting on—”

“My sister,” Zayad said quickly.

“—Jane, and the next there's a bunch of report—” Mariah stopped cold. Her eyebrows smashed together. She swallowed hard, licked her lips. And she just stared at him. “What?”

Coming to stand beside Mariah, Jane fairly choked out, “What?”

A knock on the back door made the women jump. Zayad shook his head. “It is one of my men. If you will excuse me for one moment.”

The women said nothing.

Zayad brought Fandal into the room. “This is my chief of security.”

“Your chief of security?” Mariah fairly yelled. Then her voice went low and dangerous. “I'm only going to ask you this once more and then I'm letting all those reporters out there inside to have at you. What the hell is going on!”

He had not wanted it this way, but he had little choice. “My name is Zayad Al-Nayhal. I am the sultan of Emand.”

He watched the blood drain from Mariah's face. Jane looked completely confused.

“Several weeks ago,” he explained, “my father's aide made a deathbed confession.” He wished he could hold Mariah close as he spoke, but she looked as though she had cactus thorns growing out of her. “He claimed my father, on a trip to California, met an American woman and spent three days in her company. He also claimed the woman became pregnant and unbeknownst to my father gave birth to a child.”

Mariah shook her head. “I don't understand.”

“I already knew who she was when I left Emand. But before I told her the truth, I wanted to know her, see who she was and what she stood for.” He looked over at Jane, who seemed ready to collapse. “I wanted to see if she would take her rightful place beside her brothers.”

Jane fairly whimpered. She shook her head over and over. “No, I'm not… It's not possible.”

“It is fact, my sister,” Zayad said.

“My father died—”

“He did pass on, but far after you were born.”

“My mother would've told me this. She wouldn't have lied to me.”

Zayad remembered Tara's face when she had explained her reasoning, her fears. “She protected you. The aide never told my father of you and he lied to Tara. He told her that my father wanted nothing to do with the baby or the mother. So, you see, your mother was acting under the assumption that your father had denounced you. She only lied to protect your heart.”

Jane looked stricken and stunned. “And why did
you
lie, Zayad?”

“I thought it best not to disclose my identity. I felt it was important to see who you were before—”

“To see if I was worthy, right?”

His chin lifted. “Yes.”

They continued to talk, argue, question and answer, but Mariah couldn't listen anymore. She was thoroughly confused and very hurt. She slipped from the room, went through the kitchen and into the backyard. The large security man saw her but didn't try to stop
her. She pushed past him and ran. She didn't know how she got very far considering she couldn't breathe all that well. But she kept running until she reached the back house. Once there, she went inside, saw Zayad's swords—shiny, beautiful, impenetrable—and collapsed on the wood floor, head in hands.

It was all a lie. Sure, he hadn't wanted to date Jane, but he'd wanted her all the same and he'd used Mariah to get her. She remembered all the questions, the interest in Tara. He hadn't cared about Mariah's foot. He'd wanted to find out about Jane, get easy access to her from her mother and best friend.

Tears pricked her eyes and she felt sick to her stomach. She'd done it again. Allowed another wealthy, charming, irresistible man to win her over and screw her up.

What a loser she was.

The door to the house opened and light spilled into the room.

“I know what you must be thinking.”

She sniffed. “Get out.”

“I will be as honest as I can.”

“Well, that'll be a first.”

He sat down beside her on the floor.

“Should princes really be sitting on the floor?” she asked, ire in her tone.

“Please curb your hostility for one moment.”

She glared at him.

He sighed. “Yes, it started out as a ruse to gain information about Jane. But you must believe that everything changed that day in Ojai. I felt strong feelings for you, and they have only gained in strength.”

She hated the lift in her heart and quashed it instantly. “Yet you continued to lie to me.”

“I did. I felt I could not reveal who I was and who Jane was until she returned.”

“You told Tara, didn't you?”

“She guessed.”

“I think this is all a load of garbage.”

He touched her hand. “I know you are angry—”

“Angry?” She swatted him away. “I'm beyond angry. You knew what I went through with my ex-husband. You knew what I continue to go through with my work and yet you still kept lying.”

“Mariah, I am sorry. I so desperately wanted to see my sister, regain my family, I did not think. No, that is not true. Actually I could not stop thinking about my dishonesty to you.”

“And yet you continued.”

He didn't say anything for a moment. His eyes went somber, his mouth drew into a thin line. “You are right. I was selfish. I did not want our time to end and knew if I told you the truth, you would walk away from me.”

“Just like you would've done in one more week anyway.”

He looked ashamed. She'd never seen that on a man. And on this man, who was far too proud for his own good, it was a little disturbing.

“Mariah, please.” He took her hand. “Believe that I will never lie to you again.”

“No, you won't, because I won't give you the chance.”

“Mariah, I care for you deeply. I want you to come with me to Emand. I want you to be my wife.”

She stilled, her heart smacking against her ribs. He wanted her to be his wife. Oh, how she wanted to fling herself at him and say yes, yes, yes. But there was one hitch. He'd said he cared for her. Was that the same as love? Her belly clenched with pain. Did it even matter at this point?

“Remember what we spoke of that day at the beach?” he said, inching closer to her. “How the sultan needs advisors who believe in the good and who will fight for the basic human rights of others.”

“Yes,” she uttered, her brain a complete mess.

“We could do so much together.”

She stared at him. He was serious. His eyes swam with tenderness. He really did want her, want to marry her. If she forgave him, believed him, she could be this man's wife, love him, have Jane as her true sister. Lord, it all sounded wonderful. It sounded magical. But for a woman with her history, it sounded too good to be true.

“I can't.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she eased her hand from his. The fear was too great. She loved this man too much to allow him to hurt her again. “I can't put myself in that position again. It hurts too much.”

“You cannot forgive, mi'nâr? Knowing the circumstances?”

She shook her head.

It took him a moment, his jaw tight, but finally he nodded. “I understand. What I did was unforgivable.” He laid a file folder down by her feet, then stood. “Fandal just gave these to me. I have not looked at them. I hope you find what you are looking for here.”

Mariah stared at the folder. She didn't need to look
inside. She knew there was more than enough information to help her client gain custody of her children. “Thank you.”

He nodded, turned to leave, then stopped. “Can you tell me you have no love for me, Mariah?”

Her heart dipped, her throat felt tight and dry. Everything inside her wanted him, wanted to forgive him, wanted to go with him to his beautiful country and have a real family of her own. Everything but her pride. “I'm sorry.” She said the words as much to herself as to him.

He didn't turn back. “I cannot stay here any longer. I must leave tonight.”

“I understand. Have a safe trip.”

“I love you, Mariah Kennedy,” were the last words she heard him say before the door to the back house closed and she was alone again with her pride intact but her heart bleeding.

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