The Prince & the Pregnant Princess
Susan Mallery

To Liz—you started out as a loyal reader

and became a wonderful friend.

Here’s your very own sheik book. With love.

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?

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