The Sheik and the Virgin Princess (19 page)

“Maybe he was putting all his cards on the table.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You can’t actually believe that.”

“No, but it sounded good.”

She angled toward him. “How am I supposed to fit in with these people? I always wanted roots, but not ones that ran so deep. The king can trace his ancestors back nearly a thousand years. I was thinking more like a couple of generations.”

“Is this where I remind you to be careful of what you wish for?”

His words danced across her skin like fire. Against her will, she found herself staring at his mouth, at the lips that had so tenderly kissed hers. While she couldn’t imagine having this conversation with any other man she’d ever met, with Rafe she felt perfectly comfortable.

Be careful what you wish for. He was smart to remind her of the danger, because what she wanted most was him. He drew her with a power she didn’t understand and could never explain.

“I guess you were right,” she said, more to herself than him. “I’m a wife-and-kids kind of woman. Which doesn’t bode well for my life as a princess, should that happen.”

“You’ll hear within the week.”

“I’m starting to regret pushing the king to have the blood test. Now that it’s done, I don’t want to know.”

He took a sip of his cognac. “With most people I’d be assuming they were afraid they wouldn’t be a relative, but you’re afraid of the opposite.”

She shrugged. “I never said I was brave.”

“Your concerns about dealing with an entire new way of life aren’t cowardly. You’re intelligent enough to be able to see the consequences of your actions.”

“Only it’s a tiny bit too late. After all, I’m here in Bahania, instead of safely back in my little life.”

“Sometimes a bigger life is better.”

“Maybe.”

She wasn’t convinced. A bigger life required a different kind of person. Zara had never considered herself very special. If she was Hassan’s daughter, she would be a royal princess. The reality of the situation made her palms sweat.

“I don’t want to talk about that anymore.” She studied him in the dim light. “How did a nice American guy like you become a sheik?”

He flashed her a smile. “Never tell a man he’s nice. We hate that word.”

“Then I take it back. So how did a mean, surly, very manly guy like you become a sheik?”

“I saved Prince Kardal’s life.”

He spoke casually, as if giving directions to the airport. She leaned forward. “How? No, wait. First tell me about Prince Kardal. Who is he?”

“Sabrina’s husband. He’s…” Rafe hesitated. “This is confidential, Zara. You can’t repeat this information to anyone.”

His blue eyes darkened with intensity. She felt as if she was about to get the secret code that would save the country from certain destruction. For a brief second she thought about saying she didn’t want to know, but then curiosity won.

“I promise.”

He studied her as if gauging the value of her word, then he nodded.

“You may have heard of the legend of a secret city on the border between El Bahar and Bahania. The story goes that nomads call this place home. Those who wrote about the city claimed it was a walled wonder filled with treasures stolen from all over the world.”

She frowned as bits of history came back to her. “I remember reading something about that. I think I even saw part of a documentary. There are a lot of writings about the city, but no real proof it exists.”

“The City of Thieves is real and it’s still around today. Kardal is the Prince of Thieves, the next in a long line of men who rule the desert. Back when the silk roads were in use, travelers feared being attacked. The nomads offered protection, for a price. They also stole from those who would not pay. When oil production began, they quickly learned there was more money to be made from the earth than from stealing. Now the City of Thieves guards the oil fields. Using a combination of the old ways and modern technology, we keep the peace.”

Zara didn’t know what to say. “It’s real?”

Rafe nodded.

She couldn’t begin to imagine such a place. A mythical city that still existed? “It would be like learning that Atlantis was alive and well.”

“As long as the world doesn’t find out.”

“I won’t say anything,” she told him earnestly. “I would never betray your trust.” Questions filled her mind. “How did you come to be there?”

“I told the truth before. I worked for a paramilitary organization. Prince Kardal hired us, and when the job was over I stayed on. About a year after that I worked my way up to the head of security. One day we were out in the desert when we were attacked. I saved Kardal’s life. In gratitude he made me a sheik.”

Rafe unbuttoned the cuff of his right shirtsleeve and pulled up the material. She saw a small mark on the inside of his wrist. Zara leaned closer to study the intricate design.

“What is it?”

“The seal of the City of Thieves. I carry the mark of the prince. As such I own land, livestock and have a fortune, which, while modest by royal prince standards, will keep me comfortable for a long time. They also offered me the woman of my choice, but I turned that down.”

Zara nearly choked. “A woman? They offered you a woman?”

He grinned. “Don’t you just love it here?”

She glared at him while he fastened his cuff. “That’s positively feudal.”

“I wasn’t all that comfortable with the idea, which is why I refused.”

She didn’t even know what to say. They’d offered a woman along with livestock? Typical.

“If you’re so wealthy with your land and camels and fortune, why do you still work?”

“Because I like what I do.”

Rafe picked up his snifter and swirled the cognac. He’d come a long way from his days at the orphanage, he thought. A long way from the scared kid who’d felt so damned alone.

“Do you have any family?” Zara asked.

“No. My folks died when I was four. There wasn’t anyone else. I became a ward of the state.”

He didn’t like to think about his past. He was different now, stronger. He’d learned to take care of himself and never need anyone.

“Why haven’t you ever married? There had to have been women in your past.”

“Plenty, but I’m not the kind of man who wants roots.”

She shook her head. “Everyone wants to belong.”

“I don’t need anyone else.”

“It’s a good line, but I don’t believe you.”

She smiled as she spoke. A pretty smile that made him think about kissing her. Tonight she wore a simple, loose fitting, sleeveless dress. The soft fabric moved with her, both emphasizing and concealing her curves. Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and when she absently pushed them into place, he found himself wanting to remove them and touch her face. He wanted to be close to her, stroke her, hold her. Not just for sex, but for something more.

He reminded himself that getting involved was dangerous. He needed to be free to move on when the time came. However, at that moment he couldn’t think of a single place he wanted to go.

“You were never adopted?” she asked.

He stiffened, then forced himself to relax. “I was too old and not cute enough.”

“I don’t believe that. I’ll bet you were an adorable kid.”

He’d been quiet and withdrawn. One family had shown interest when he’d been eight. He’d gone home with them for a long weekend. Determined to do everything right, he’d become so terrified of doing anything wrong that he’d frozen up. At the end of the three days, they’d returned him and he’d never seen them again. After that he’d stopped dreaming about things like family and belonging.

“Don’t try to make me what I’m not,” he told her. “Wishing isn’t going to make me different. I’m a coldhearted bastard who has no interest in anything like home and hearth. My home is wherever I sleep that night. I don’t need more.”

“I don’t believe you and I don’t think you believe yourself. You’ve found it easier to go your own way, but in your heart you want what everyone wants. The need to belong is universal.”

She was wrong, but he didn’t have the words to convince her. “Don’t make me into a hero, Zara. I like you, and I want you, but I’ll never be the man who can make you happy.”

Several days later the door to Zara’s suite burst open, and King Hassan walked in trailed by a secretary, a bodyguard and two of the princes.

Zara looked up from the book she was reading and felt a sudden sense of dread. The king’s happy expression, the welcoming light in his eyes and the way he pulled her to her feet, then hugged her close told her all she wanted to know.

“It is done,” he announced.

She swallowed against a sudden attack of nerves that sent her stomach through a cheerleading routine.

“The blood test results?” she asked in a small voice, even though she already knew.

Hassan released her, beamed, then pulled her close again. “Yes. They have confirmed what you and I have known all along. You are the daughter of my beloved Fiona and my daughter, as well. The joy of my life.” He put his arm around her and faced his entourage. “She is the Princess Zara, named for my mother and beloved to me. Let the word be spread.”

Zara felt the floor move beneath her feet. It took her a second to realize that the building wasn’t swaying; instead she was having trouble catching her breath and staying upright. Was it her imagination or had the light in the room just dimmed?

Princess Zara? Oh, sure, she’d realized that if she was really the daughter of a king then she was likely to be a princess. She’d turned the concept over in her mind but had never been able to make it real. Nor had she actually thought of herself as “Princess Zara.” Did she really have a title?

Instinctively she glanced around at the people in her suite and was relieved when she saw that Rafe had slipped in…probably to see what was going on. She looked at him and took comfort from his wink. He was the only one who could make her feel safe. She couldn’t help wishing his arm was around her instead of the king’s.

“There is much to be done,” the king said.

“A press conference,” one of the princes said. Zara told herself that she was really going to have to learn to tell them apart. If only they weren’t all so tall, dark-haired and amazingly handsome.

A third prince entered her room. She recognized Prince Sadik. He walked up and took her hand in his.

“Welcome, my sister,” he said. “Do not be too afraid. We will not torment you as we did Sabrina, when she was young.”

“I appreciate that.”

The king motioned his assistant to step forward. “We will arrange for a press conference,” Hassan said. “The world must know of our joy.”

Zara didn’t think the princes looked especially joyful. None of this was a surprise to them and they’d all been very kind. She suspected her status as a woman made her practically invisible to them, which was far better than having them outwardly hostile. She wondered how Sabrina would take the news. Although she and her half sister had discussed starting over, they hadn’t spent very much time together.

Hassan was still talking about different arrangements. He smiled at her. “You will need a wardrobe fit for a princess. And lands, I think.”

Lands? She blinked. “That’s not necessary.”

Hassan dismissed her with a flick of his wrist. “Yes, lands. Perhaps with oil. Would you like that?” He continued without waiting for her to reply. “There are some lovely jewels that belonged to my mother. As you are named for her, they must be yours.”

She slipped free of his embrace. “Your Highness—”

“I would prefer you call me Father,” he said, his eyes misting over. “Perhaps not yet, as we are still getting to know each other. But in time. Yes?”

“I—” She swallowed. King Hassan was her father. As in that they shared blood and a gene pool. She had a father.

Her mind spun with the information. It shouldn’t be a shock, but it was because now it was real. The room seemed to shift again. Fortunately no one noticed.

“You don’t have to give me anything. That’s not why I came looking for you.”

“I know, my child.” He cupped her chin. “But it makes me happy, so you must indulge an old man’s simple requests. You are my daughter, and a member of the royal family. Anything less would be an insult to you, to me and to our people.”

Her stomach took an elevator ride for her toes. They had people? She was considered…were there people who—Dear God, what was happening?

The next few minutes passed in a blur. More staff members arrived. Phone calls were made, refreshments brought in, questions were asked and answered. The princes all slipped out, but Rafe remained in the background. Zara tried to keep track of everything. She was scheduled for a full wardrobe fitting and a makeover. Hassan called Sabrina to find out the name of her stylist. The wording of the press release was finalized, and all the while Zara had the sense of being trapped in an alternate universe.

Eventually the work was finished. Hassan hugged her one last time before leaving, taking all his people with him. Zara remained seated, too stunned to stand, barely able to breathe. Rafe joined her on the sofa.