A Marriage of Convenience (Married to a Prince) (13 page)

BOOK: A Marriage of Convenience (Married to a Prince)
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“What is that supposed to me
an?”

“I can’t give you what you want here.”

Honor tilted her head back to meet is gaze. “In what way?”

“I never should have forced you into marriage.”

“That’s what’s on your mind? It’s a little late for regrets now, Yousef.”

He pressed a kiss against her temple. Her small smile couldn’t rid him of his
guilt. He left her in a vulnerable position by putting off the Bedouins while he tried to get his own life in order. He hadn’t served either his family or the tribe. “Just listen and hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“You can never have a normal life here.”

“I think I already figured that out.”

“So consider this. You go back to the States…”

She pushed out of his embrace and sprung to her feet.
“Are you nuts?”

“Let me finish.”

“No,” She shook her head adamantly. “You want to end our marriage after a month?”

He joined her at the window. Night had descended on the
distant desert, rivaling the darkness in his heart. “Not end the marriage. I would visit with you and Joey as often as possible until something permanent can be arranged. But I think you’d feel safer back home.”

He tried to reach fo
r her again but she rebuffed him. “How do you know I’ll feel safer? How do you know I feel unsafe?”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t scared today.”

“Yes, I was scared. Obviously so were you. But that doesn’t mean I run home with my tail between my legs.”

Despite her stubbornness, he knew he had offered the best compromise. She could never be happy in the confines of palace life. He would never be happy without her. If that meant he made
monthly overseas visits until they found a better solution, then it was a small price.


Sleep on it. In the morning you’ll see I’m right.”

“You sleep on it. And then go talk w
ith my father. Ask him how a long-distance marriage worked out for him. Seeing my father twice a year was my normal as a kid. I don’t want it for my son.” She grabbed a blanket and pillow from the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She stomped across the Persian carpet. “Going to sleep in the nursery.”

“Why?”

“Apparently you seem to think I should get used to sleeping alone at night.”

He didn’t follow. The shock and fears of the day obviously settled in and she wasn’t thinking clearly
. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep he would discuss the matter again.

 

* * * *

 

Honor groaned and pulled her aching body up from the floor of the nursery. Joey slept through the whole night. Almost made her want to take him out to the oasis every day. She shook the stiffness from her limbs. If her husband didn’t come back from his guilt trip, the only Oasis she would visit was the spa in a suburb of Boston.

She jumped in the shower to refresh herself for what was sure to be a long day. The hot water caressed her skin and eased the tension. Feelin
g stronger and ready to take on her obstinate husband, she dressed and returned to the nursery. Joey was not in his crib. Her stomach clenched for a split second before logic kicked in.

Voices from the living room alerted her to a visitor.
One family member had come to claim time with the little prince, she thought affectionately. She prepared a bottle of juice and joined the others. When she saw her father, she ran to him.

“Dad?
Is everything all right?”

Sean gave her a big
, warm hug. “With me, of course. I came to check on you after your ordeal yesterday.”

She should have called him last night before Yousef gave his version of events, one worried father to another.
“It was not a big deal.” She shot her husband a frustrated glare.

“But Yousef said you will be returning to the States
because of it.”

Honor slouched down into sofa next to him.
“That’s what he tells me too.”

Sean’s eyebrows came together in a quizzical arch.
“Then it isn’t settled?”

Yousef took the bottle from her and began to feed the baby. “We haven’t discussed the details yet.”

She laughed. “You mean it involves a discussion? Because it seems like you’ve already decided.”

Sean
fidgeted uncomfortably. “I think I should get to work.”

Honor shook her head. “You
went back so soon?”

“The doctor said I’m fine. And I think you two have a few things you need to work out.”

She walked beside her father to the front door. “At this point I just need to get a lawyer’s advice before anything else is decided.”

“Do you really need to go that far?”

“Whatever happens, I need to know my son is protected.”

Her father hooked arms with her. “He always will be. You know that.”

“All right then, I need to know my own rights now. Things have changed in more ways than I could have imagined. Don’t take this personally, Dad, but seeing how you and Mom couldn’t survive a long-distance marriage, I am not optimistic about my odds.”

“Whatever you do, you know I’m with you, Baby Girl.”

Tears welled in her eyes. He hadn’t called her that in years. “I know.”

Her father left and Honor went back to the living room.
Yousef seemed genuinely surprised when she sat down next to him. He still didn’t get her. She wasn’t angry with him. Frustrated as hell, perhaps. Yesterday had scared him but rather than admit it, he put all his energy into removing her from a threat that no longer existed.

He rested his hand on her thigh.
“We need to talk, Honor.”

“I am not talking about it anymore, Yousef.
I want to speak with your brother, please.”

“Why?”

“He’s council for the Kingdom, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have a few legal points I need to ask about before I agree to what I am sure will be a very generous proposal.”

He cringed.
Her comment hit a raw nerve apparently. Her intent was not to hurt but to get him to listen. Could anything penetrate his obstinate, alpha-male logic?

 

 

* * * *

 

Yousef set up
the meeting within an hour. Honor seemed to fear he wanted out of the marriage. That was the last thing he wanted. He was about to start the process of changing his entire life rather than lose his family.

Inside the office she settled into a chair with a folder clutched tightly in her hands. He stood behind her. “Are you going to stay?” she asked.

He
pushed his hands into his pants pockets. “Do you want me to leave?”


You can stay but you are not allowed to say anything.”

Yousef
maintained a tight smile until his brother grinned, taking pleasure in his discomfort.

“What did you need from me Honor
?” Sami asked.

She pulled
a stack of papers from the file. “These documents that I got when we married, I don’t understand what they mean.”

“You got English translations.” Yousef said.

“No comments from you.” She waved a finger in his face. “Besides I know what they are, but I don’t know what they mean.” She pulled out two Nadiarian passports. “Now does this mean that Joey and I are citizens?”

He took the passports and opened to the first page.
“Of course. And those are diplomatic passports.”

“But for me, that really only means I can park my car wherever
I want and they can’t tow me.”

Sami chuckled. “She’s funny, Yousef.”

He was not amused.
What the hell was her point with this meeting? He would give her anything she wanted so a lawyer was unnecessary. Particularly his brother.

“So my real question
is, if we are citizens of Nadiar, can he make us leave?”

“What?” bo
th Sami and Yousef sputtered.

“If I am Nadiarian can he deport me back to the States?”

Yousef snorted indignantly. “I am not deporting you.”

“And I am not talking to you.” She turned her attention back to his brother. “
Can he make me leave? Can he have me fired from my job or stop me from renting my own house since he obviously doesn’t want me living here.”

Sami’s uncontained laughter pressed on Yousef’s last nerve.

“Oh, Honor. You are a princess, a citizen and mother of the heir who is third in line to the crown. He can’t even make you leave the palace. Only the king has that right. Somehow I don’t think even Yousef can negotiate Joey out of his grandfather’s life.”

“Thank you.”
She rose and met Yousef’s stunned glare. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He slid an arm around her waist as she tried to leave.
“I was not trying to get rid of you. I wanted you to feel safe.”

She laid her hands on his shoulders.
“I was missing for two hours yesterday and in that time you mobilized Special Forces, tracked all traffic in and around the city and put the air force on standby. In the States I would have to be missing at least twenty-four hours before they even open an investigation. Where do you really think I am safer?“

She made her point eloquently.
“Probably here.”

“Probably?
Can you just admit you were wrong?” She exhaled deeply. “Is he always this stubborn, Sami?” She glanced toward the desk. “Where did he go?”

“He figured his part of the meeting was over.”

She captured his gaze, her expression a mix of hope and question. “And is his part over, Yousef?”

“If you’re sure
you can be happy here.”

She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck until their bodies meshed together as one.
“I don’t want live without you. There is nothing left for me back there. Joey needs his father more than sporadically and I find I need my father more often as well.”

He wanted to believe her. He needed to.
“What about living a normal life?”


I love you and I’d rather have a crazy, mixed up life with you than a normal one by myself. I’m yours, Yousef.”

Those were the words he
’d always wanted to hear from her but only now did he realize that he could not make her say them. She had to give them freely. Now that she had, he felt like a king.


And I love you, Princess.”

 

The End

 

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published by Books We Love Ltd.

 

 

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Newest series from Kat Attalla

(Married to a Prince)

A Marriage of Convenience

Coming Soon:  A Marriage of Inconvenience

 

 

Chat with Kat and other Books We Love authors in the Books We Love Online Book Club:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/153824114796417/

 

Coming in 2014

 

A Marriage of Inconvenience

 

Delilah Jordan sat on the battered easy chair in the corner of the small apartment and watched her mother pack. The sight was hardly uncommon.
In her twenty-five years, she’d seen Marissa Jordan perform this ritual at least two dozen times. Delilah never understood her mother’s need to constantly move, but she had learned from a very young age not to get attached to any person or place. Consequently, as an adult, she still kept people at an emotional distance.

She unfastened the top button of her blouse. “Mom.
Can you take a break? I need to talk to you.”

“Hand me that lacy shawl behind you,” Marissa said, as if she hadn’t heard her daughter’s request.

“Mom?” Delilah said more impatiently. By now, her mother’s self-centered ways came as no surprise. At forty-six, Marissa could still turn heads when she walked in a room and she used her charms to get what she wanted from men.
She also had a creative ability to weave a tale that would bring tears to the eyes of a cynic. The lethal combination had made Marissa a siren with a long line of broken hearts behind her.

With a smile, the older woman met Delilah’s gaze.
“You’ve decided to dump that stuffy accountant and this cold Jersey weather and come to California after all, right?”

“Wrong!
And Bob is not stuffy. He is dependable, stable, and faithful.”

“Kind of like a lap-dog?” her mother asked.
She lit incense, filling the room with a woodsy smell.

“Oh, please Mom.
I don’t want to argue about this. Especially not today.” What Bob lacked in excitement, he more than made up for kindness. So there wasn’t that intense spark of electricity between them. Delilah had learned from her mother’s many experiences that relationships based on passion burned out too quickly.

“And why is today different?”
Marissa continued to place her possessions into cardboard boxes.

Delilah swallowed hard.
“Bob has asked me to marry him and I’m going to accept.”

The sound of metals clanging together in the box gave her a start.
She glanced at her mother, who had taken on a ghastly pallor. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t love him.”

“There are more important things in life than love.
We are compatible and good company for each other.” How could she explain to a free spirit like her mother the attraction of security, stability and roots? He suited her needs without threatening her emotional control.

“You know, Delilah, if you would let you hair down and take off those ridiculous glasses, you would be very attractive.
I hate to see you settling for less than you deserve.”

“I’m not settling.”

“Please! The man bought you flannel nightwear and fuzzy slippers for Valentine’s Day. Where is the romance in that?”

“It’s very practical,” she said defensively, but she had to admit, she’d been disappointed in his choice of gift.

Marissa folded trembling arms across her chest. “Anyway, you can’t marry him and that’s that.”

“And why not?” The long pause stretched into an uncomfortable silence.
The older woman fidgeted with the edge of the carton. “Mom?”

“You’re already married.”
The words tumbled out as if they’d been held in for too long.

Marissa had told some wild stories to her daughter, but she had to see that this one wasn’t going to fly.
Even with her best efforts to look sickly and afraid.

“Married to my job doesn’t count,” Delilah said.

“We need to talk.” Marissa picked through a steel box that contained family papers until she found what she needed. “Remember when I told you about your father?”

Delilah thought back to the one and only conversation they’d had on the subject.
And that talk had only come about when she had wanted to get a driver’s license and she learned that her birth certificate was a foreign document. “I remember you said my father was from Nadiar.”

“Yes.
A barbaric little country with even more barbaric customs.”

Delilah tucked in a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun.
“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Well, one of those horrid customs is that a father can write a marriage contract for his daughter while she is still a child.
A contract that is a legal, binding marriage despite her feelings as an adult.”

“And you want me to believe that he married me off to some Nadiarian man and that in the eyes of the law, it’s legal?
Come on, Mom. Certainly you can do better than that?”

“Not just any man.
The son of the king.”

Delilah shook her head.
This had to be a joke. It had to be! “Anything else?”

“You don’t believe me?”
She took out an envelope filled with papers. Several documents were contained within a stack of newspaper clippings. “I assure you. This is not a joke and it is not a lie.”

Delilah looked though the contents of the envelope.
All the papers had English translations attached to them, but she couldn’t tell if they were genuine. Obviously, the papers were older. If her mother wasn’t telling the truth, where did she get these documents? But if she was telling the truth...

She sprung from the chair.
“How could you keep something like this from me?”

“I meant to take care of it...”
Marissa procrastinated with the best of them, but this was more than waiting until the last minute to pay the electric bill. “I was going to get it annulled. I went to see a lawyer, but the cost of filing the documents and legal fees were beyond my reach. I kept meaning to do it, but somehow, it just never got done.”

“And now?”

Marissa shrugged. “Now, you’re an adult. You would have to take care of it yourself.”

“How?
You tell me I’m legally married and I don’t even know the name of my husband.” Her life had just gone from safe and comforting to a surrealistic nightmare.

“Prince Samir A’Del Sharif.”
Marissa thumbed through the envelope to a recent newspaper photo of the royal family. She pointed to one of the sons. “That’s him.”

At least her mother had
kept up on the family. Why? She had obviously tried to block out everything about her life in Nadiar. She never spoke of the past or of Delilah’s father. After a while, Delilah had learned to stop asking but she never stopped wanting the answers.

She glanced at the photograph. In the black and white picture she saw a ruggedly handsome man whose smile held a trace of cynicism and whose dark eyes looked as if they could penetrate to the sole. A dangerously sexy man. The kind of man she purposefully avoided. The kind of man she would never want for a husband. “He has probably divorced me already.”

“There’s always that chance,” her mother mumbled, but Delilah got the feeling there was even more to come.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Marissa’s eyes darkened in sorrow.
Her most fantastic story to date was ironically the first true one. “After your father died, I was afraid his family might track us down and try to hold me to the contract so I told them that the marriage had been annulled in the American courts when it really hadn’t.”

She shook her head.
“I have a husband, who doesn’t think he has a wife?”

Could it get any worse? What had her father been thinking by signing away his daughter’s life to a stranger? Why had her mother waited until now to tell her? What would Bob think if he found out? She was so confused that she couldn’t think straight.

Suddenly her neatly planned future was in jeopardy.
She inhaled deeply.
Focus on the objective, decide on the most effective course of action and follow through.
The words from her freshman business class had proved to be a valuable tool in dealing with life’s problems as well. Her gaze returned to the photograph. A man like him would have no interest in a boring insurance actuary from New Jersey. She grabbed her purse, shoved the foreign documents inside, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“First to see my lawyer and then to the Nadiarian Consulate in The City to straighten out this mess. I’m sure this man, this Prince Sami whatever, will not want to be married to me any more than I want to be married to him.” The sooner she took care of this bizarre problem her parents had left her, the sooner she could get on with her life plan.

 

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