Desert Sheikh vs American Princess (5 page)

BOOK: Desert Sheikh vs American Princess
6.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Meat Cleaver snapped a word over her shoulder and the kitchen sprang back into life. Instantly the room filled with sizzle, slamming, arguments in a language Noelle didn't understand... Even the wafting smells of cooking now hit her, as if they'd also paralyzed on Meat Cleaver's command.

"Miss Oldrich," barked out Meat Cleaver, and Noelle steeled herself to get ripped a new A-hole. "What can we offer you? We have whatever you wish, though our surroundings are humble. Coffee. Tea. Cookies."

Meat Clever said the word
cookies
with all the warmth of a drill sergeant. Noelle nearly dropped to give her twenty. Instead, she held up a hand. "I'm good, thanks. I'll just head..."

It's not nice to refuse cookies,
said Bonnie.
I mean, hospitality.

And that was the exact moment Noelle's stomach choose to erupt in a volcanic gurgle.

Meat Cleaver issued marching orders and Noelle soon found herself seated at a stainless steel table, on an uncomfortable metal chair, young women wasping around her with pert efficiency. Plates appeared, piled high with nutty pastries dripping with honey water, soft buns, and purple jam--which explained the violet stain on Meat Cleaver's apron--and, to Bonnie's enthusiastic delight, at least seven kinds of cookies.

Finally, a young lady barely out of her teens set a tiny cup of thick coffee in front of Noelle, with a little jug of creamy milk. The woman was dressed from loosely wrapped headscarf to flowy chiffon ankle in the peculiar shade of powder-puff pink that screamed, "Hey, I'm a girl!" She clasped her hands together and bit her bottom lip as she stared at Noelle with something like wonder.

Caffeine. That pushed her over the edge. The nutty, spicy smell of the coffee seduced her mouth into watering. She couldn't help but give in. Oh well. Don't want to insult them.

She grabbed a bun, slathered it with butter, and tucked in. The carb-o-riffic treat melted in her mouth like a luscious cake.

Meat Cleaver lowered herself onto the opposite chair. What? Was Meat Cleaver going to eat with her?

"More coffee, princess?" Powder Puff asked. "Let me get it for you."

"I haven't finishe--" The words broke off in Noelle's mouth. She had drained the coffee in a single gulp, without realizing she'd even started.

She handed her cup to Powder Puff. "Thank you. It's delicious. But I'm no princess. My father's just rich."

Powder Puff vibrated in place, clutching the cup with both hands. Words spewed from her like an unstoppable train. "You are the princess Inaya Al Hurra reborn and you will find the treasure and you will marry Sheikh Walid and the land will be rich and happy."

"Uhhhhh..." said Noelle.

Treasure!
said Bonnie.

"Miss Oldrich," growled Meat Cleaver. "Please excuse Faridah. She is young and gets excited about small things."

The stocky woman crossed her arms over her considerable chest and glared at Noelle, her mouth in a bitter line. Had she done something wrong?

Bonnie rolled her mental eyes.
Duh, she's the ship's cook. She's watching you because she never gets to see people eat her food and she wants to know if you like it.

"This is amazing," Noelle said, around a mouthful of her second bun. She wasn't lying. She'd eaten in some of the best--and the most expensive--restaurants in the world.

Meat Cleaver grunted. And somehow Noelle got the idea that the sound was as close as the woman got to pure pleasure.

"No kidding," she went on. "Chefs who yell at people on TV cook for me on a regular basis, and this might be the best bread I've ever had. What's your name?"

"Suzette."

"Like the crepes," offered Faridah, who still stared at Noelle, shiny-eyed, just waiting for her to need something else.

That lady said treasure. Find out about the treasure,
ordered Bonnie.

But Noelle didn't have to. Faridah practically exploded with info. "Please, princess, you must rescue Sheikh Walid. It is why you are in this place at this time. He is a good man and needs your help."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't. And I'm not a princess. Please call me Noelle. I really prefer it."

"Inaya Al Hurra was not a princess when she married the prince," Faridah countered. "It is the same with you and the sheikh."

"My niece." Suzette cocked a thumb at the younger woman. "My sister's child. Such strange ideas. What can I do?"

Noelle made sympathetic eyes at Suzette. Despite the large woman's apparent irritation, she couldn't help noticing that Suzette didn't make a single move to stop the younger woman. Had she fallen for this princess crap, too?

Faridah pulled a chair up to the little table, and she even managed to do that with excitement. "I knew who you were when I saw your crown. It looks just like the Palm of Askar. It is a sign that you are a descendant of Inaya Al Hurra, returned to us in our time of need."

Oh, so now she wasn't just a princess, but a very specific princess. And the mystery of why her replica of the Askari crown had been on her coffee table. Faridah must have been the one to unpack her stuff.

"That crown is just
supposed
to look like the Palm of Askar. It's a fake. A replica." Elise had been very excited about the thank you gift. There'd been some story about the giant, deeply green emerald set into the apex of the tiara--the Palm of Askar. At the time, she hadn't really been listening, just thinking about how she'd just agreed to go with her parents on a trip she was bound to hate instead of being with her friends.

Oh yeah, she realized. Elise had said the jewel was missing.

Treasure,
Bonnie nearly sang.
Ask about the treasure.

Noelle told the women how she'd come to have a fake version of their legendary crown jewel. "It's not a coincidence or a sign. It's designed to look like that. Elise found some old pictures of the emerald online. I'm sorry. It's not real."

Faridah sniffed the air. "I knew that."

"You did not at first," Suzette grouched. Whether it was a teasing joke or an actual criticism, Noelle couldn't say. Suzette seemed to have one tone of voice--gruff.

"It is a sign nonetheless," Faridah insisted.

"That I'm some princess reborn, only she wasn't a princess?"

"She was a legendary thief." The young woman leaned across the table, her voice all drama and intrigue. Noelle felt a story coming on... "In the time when this land was young, she came here to steal the Palm of Askar. She had already stolen a bag of diamonds from the Caliph of Baghdad. She took a thousand silks from the Sultan of Turkey, right from under his nose. She smuggled a thousand elephants from the court of Mughal Emperor by painting them green so they couldn't be seen in the jungle. She lived on a fast ship upon the ocean and sailed the world, stealing from the very rich."

Pirate princess.
Inside her head, Bonnie did a dance of excitement.
Pirate. Princess. Pirate princess!

"And she came here," Noelle prompted.

Faridah was a real storyteller, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The legend of the beautiful jewels of Askar had reached even as far as her ear. The Heart, the Eye, and especially the Palm--an emerald of such deep color that it had no comparison, the size of a man's palm."

Noelle found that she'd leaned over the table to hear Faridah better, sucked in by the tale. She also noticed that the women working around them had become much quieter, all of them damping their cooking noises so they could catch what was being said.

"Wait, wait." It was a good story, but Noelle had to call BS. Elise's story about the Palm was coming back to her. "She couldn't have stolen the Palm. The emerald was here until World War II, when it was lost."

"Not lost," countered Suzette. "Hidden. And never found."

Faridah ignored the interruption and continued. "Inaya Al Hurra disguised herself as a poor serving girl and begged to be employed in the kitchens of the palace. She intended to make the sheikh notice her, gain his favor, and then make off with the jewel. She had heard that the sheikh was a kindly man and, while it pained her to steal from an honest soul, the temptation of the jewel was too great.

"When she arrived in Askar to learn the kindly sheikh and his son had been murdered by a vicious rival, she became even more determined to steal the jewel. But the usurper was careful, and no serving girls caught his eye.

"Inaya Al Hurra began to think that she would have to leave without the Palm when one day, her master told her to deliver food to the prisoner in the tallest tower."

"Was that here, in the Red Palace?" Noelle couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Yes, the very tower above our heads now. The jailer had fallen ill and Inaya Al Hurra had been such a good worker that she was the only one that could be trusted with this task. She was warned that the prisoner was a shape-shifting djinni who would take any form to gain her sympathy. But she was also told that the evil sheikh had put a spell on the door so that only he could open it."

"Djinni? The one in Walid's bloodline?"

"No," Faridah said. "This was before his dynasty. The rule passed out of their hands many centuries ago."

"So you are free to marry Sheikh Walid," growled Suzette.

Noelle managed not to roll her eyes. The grizzly woman actually shared her niece's overly romantic ideas.

"That is true. Inaya Al Hurra would not be his ancestor," clarified Faridah.

Before Noelle could again mention that she really wasn't a legendary pirate princess reborn, Faridah continued. "When Inaya Al Hurra arrived at the jail cell, she didn't find a genie, but a man as beautiful as the stars in the sky. The parts of him she saw through the cracks in the door, in any case."

She was starting to see the shape of this story. "Let me guess--the prince who was supposed to be dead."

"Exactly!" crowed Faridah, her dark eyes lit from within. "Your heart tells you this story is true. You feel it in your soul."

You're not going to win this one,
Bonnie stated.

I haven't won anything since I got here
, Noelle pointed out. "Anyway, please go on."

Faridah went on. With a vengeance. "With the help of the staff in the kitchen, to whom she revealed the plot, Inaya Al Hurra drugged the food of the prince's guards. But as they were trying to break down the door of the cell, the evil sheikh discovered them. He reminded Inaya Al Hurra that he was the only one who could open the cell door, and he threw her inside with the prince."

Oh no!
said Bonnie.
Don't let this story be one of those ones that doesn't have a happy ending. Noelle,
do
something!

"When Inaya Al Hurra found herself locked in the chamber with the prince, she saw that he was the most beautiful man who had graced the earth."

"Except for Sheikh Walid," Suzette said grumpily. And Noelle didn't know if that was for her benefit or just Suzette's own opinion.

"Even in his ragged state, Inaya Al Hurra saw that his legs were well formed and his shoulders wide. Though his hair had not been tended for many months, it was thick and dark. And the prince's eyes danced at the sight of Inaya Al Hurra as well, though many had considered her plain and she had always encouraged that. The best thieves are always plain. He kissed her hand with royal civility and wished that he could offer her better hospitality.

"But Inaya Al Hurra was far more clever than any evil sheikh. She unwound the sash binding her waist to reveal a sturdy rope long enough to reach the ground."

I knew it!
Bonnie said.

"Long rope," Noelle noted. That tower had to be ten stories.

"All along, Inaya Al Hurra's plan had been to get inside the bespelled door. Together, she and the prince climbed out the window and to freedom. When the people saw their prince had not been killed, they rose up against the evil sheikh and returned the true ruler to the throne of Askar."

But what happened to the pirate princess?
insisted Bonnie.

"In return for saving him, the prince offered Inaya Al Hurra the Palm of Askar. She refused. He offered her a palm full of gold. She refused. He offered her a palm that held a map of half his kingdom. She refused. Finally, he offered her his own palm--a place by his side."

"So, she married him and they lived happily ever after, I guess," Noelle said. It had been a satisfying story, but she couldn't help feeling that something was missing.

"No one lives forever, princess," said Faridah. "They lived a long life, full of years. Inaya Al Hurra bore her prince four fine, wise sons and one plain, disobedient daughter. On the day the prince passed from this world, of old age, Inaya Al Hurra boarded her fast ship and sailed away, never to return. Her plain, disobedient daughter went with her, to learn the way of the thief."

Suzette's grave nod at this ending put a stake in the idea that the woman was sensible. "And when Askar is in its greatest need, the line of Inaya Al Hurra will return to save us. That day is now."

They all turned to look at Noelle. Expecting her to do something. Expecting her to save them all.

A weird prickling numbness started at the tips of her fingers, shooting up her knuckles to her hands. What the hell was that? Her hands became heavy and useless. Like they'd turned to granite.

Other books

Hope by Lesley Pearse
Mysty McPartland by Black Warlock's Woman
Running in Heels by Anna Maxted
Punto crítico by Michael Crichton
Dear Beneficiary by Janet Kelly
Five to Twelve by Edmund Cooper
Shooting Butterflies by T.M. Clark
The Steel Harvest by J.D. Miller