by Ann Mcintosh
Her mother’s question had made her want to laugh, but the worry lines on the older woman’s face kept Sara from doing so.
“I’m sure, Mom. You can look him up online, if you don’t believe me.”
She’d originally planned to wait a few days after meeting Farhan to tell her parents what was happening. That decision had gone out the window when, just as they’d got back to her house, Mariah had turned up to return her car. Finally.
“And who’s this?” Mariah drawled, flipping her wheat-blonde hair back over her shoulder.
“Oh, um, Mariah, meet Dr. Farhan Alaoui,” Sara replied, not knowing what else to say.
“Sara’s fiancé,” he’d added, making Mariah’s mouth drop open and her eyebrows all but disappear into her hairline.
No doubt it would have turned into a three-ring circus if Mariah’s friends, waiting in another car, hadn’t started calling for her to hurry up, they were going to be late.
Still speechless, Mariah had rushed off, leaving Sara to glare at Farhan.
“Wow. Thanks a lot. I better call my mom before Mariah gets to her.” The weight of her decision suddenly made her shoulders drop. “I wasn’t planning to tell them just yet.”
His chin had tipped up in that autocratic way, and he’d replied, “I don’t plan to stretch this out, Sara. So do what you have to do, as quickly as possible. We’re leaving for Toronto in two weeks, at the most.”
Her parents’ suspicions were allayed by meeting Farhan, whom they’d invited over to dinner. Sara hadn’t known what to expect. Her parents were salt-of-the-earth types, while Farhan was clearly from a whole different world.
To her surprise he’d charmed them both.
Sara had sat back, as she usually did, watching everyone interacting. Aunt Jackie had come over too and brought Nonni with her, so Sara helped the elderly lady eat her dinner, while her sisters flirted shamelessly with Farhan, until her mother put a stop to it.
“Behave yourselves, both of you,” she said, in that mild voice they all knew to take heed of. “That’s Sara’s fiancé you’re talking to.”
Only somewhat abashed, Cyndi said, “Well, do you have any brothers?”
But Farhan had just chuckled, and Dad had engaged him in conversation about horses, which had taken them through the rest of the meal.
By the time she’d left Canada, they’d had her parents’ blessing, which made Sara just shake her head in disbelief. They’d totally bought her story of having met Farhan through her search for more information about her birth father, without stopping to wonder why a prince would be getting involved in something so mundane. It gave her a warm feeling, however, that none of them, not even her sisters, had seemed surprised that Farhan would want to marry her. She’d been expecting a lot more questions than any of them had seemed inclined to ask!
As though in sync with her thoughts, her phone vibrated, and she picked it up to see a message from her mother, who couldn’t seem to grasp just how far away her daughter actually was.
Nonni hates the nurse you hired. Can we get someone else?
Just what she needed to have to deal with within minutes of landing in her new country. She was so nervous it took all her concentration to tap out a reply.
Sure, Mom. Just call the agency and have them send a replacement, But although Nonni has dementia she still probably realizes there’s been a change and doesn’t like it. You might want to give her a chance to get used to the nurse before you get someone new and start the cycle all over again.
The captain requested they prepare for landing, and Sara’s racing heart dropped down into her belly as she switched off her phone before fastening her seatbelt.
Despite the coaching, the lessons in etiquette she’d diligently applied herself to over the last month, the beautiful wardrobe and jewelry, she knew she wasn’t ready for this.
Was nowhere near ready to be introduced to the Kalyanese people as their new Crown Princess.
* * *
The jet taxied toward the terminal in Huban, Kalyana’s capital city as the flight crew prepared for their passengers to disembark.
As he shrugged into his suit jacket, Farhan saw a sea of blue, green, and gold beyond the plane windows, as children and adults alike waved Kalyanese flags. Interspersed among them were a number of red and white Canadian flags, in honor of their new Crown Princess’s country of origin.
Even from the other side of the aisle, Farhan could see Sara trembling. He felt for her, knowing how big a step she was about to take. Although she’d frequently baulked, he hadn’t intended to allow her to back out, and so, with uncharacteristic arrogance, he’d simply reminded her that she’d already agreed to his terms.
Not to mention the “little” matter of their marriage, already three weeks old.
It still felt strange to think of her as his wife, although since getting to know her better he thought the arrangement, albeit not permanent, a good one. Over the time they’d spent together they’d both been busy during the day, he with official business, she with her lessons and fittings, but they’d spent their evenings together.
“It’s important that we know a certain amount about each other, to make our marriage seem believable,” he’d said, and although she’d muttered something about there not being much to know about her, he’d learned a lot from their talks.
Like how much her family depended on her, emotionally and otherwise.
And how much she longed to have a practice of her own, somewhere where she could build relationships with her patients, rather than have them coming in and out as if through a revolving door.
“I was born in the wrong time,” she’d said one night over dinner. “Having patients I’ve seen from they were young, maybe even several generations of the same family, is my dream. We don’t practice medicine like that much anymore.”
Beneath her quiet exterior lay a compassionate heart, seemingly born to serve others. Perfect for the role of Crown Princess.
As the plane door was opened, the steps already in place outside, Farhan actually hoped he was right in that assessment, and her time in Kalyana would be a success.
He’d been aware of his interest in her growing, rather than abating, and was sure it wasn’t a good thing. So he’d maintained as polite a distance as possible, and now, as he held out his hand to her, Farhan promised himself to keep that remoteness as best he could. He had no intention of making things more difficult for her, or for himself, by allowing either of them to become attached.
Sara’s fingers were freezing, and trembling, and as if to negate the very decision he’d just made, Farhan rubbed them briskly between his palms.
“You’ll be fine,” he said. “And you look beautiful.”
She cast him a grateful glance, smoothing her free hand over the skirt of her royal blue dress. Chosen by the stylist in Paris, it appeared to flow around her body, highlighting her full breasts and emphasizing her small waist in elegant, haute couture style.
Farhan found himself wondering how long it would take to unbutton all those tiny fastenings to reveal the soft skin beneath...
“Fine feathers, and all that,” she muttered, yanking him out of his little fantasy. “I’ll admit I’m glad your parents won’t be on the tarmac. That would be truly terrifying.”
Not the time to tell her Uttam terrified everyone, no matter the setting, was it?
No!
“It’ll just be my brother, Maazin, representing the family, along with the parliamentarians, plus some cultural displays.”
“I remember. I studied the program as though there’d be an exam on it and my medical degree was at stake.”
And, to his surprise, her answer made him smile, just as they stepped to the open doorway, and cheers erupted from the crowd.
Her fingers tightened on his arm and for one moment he thought she was going to bolt back into t
he plane. There were foreign reporters among the local news crews, including a couple he was sure were Canadian. An official decree had gone out the week before regarding their marriage, and Maazin had told him the palace had been inundated with requests for more information. He wondered if her parents were watching back in Canada, and what they’d make of seeing their daughter this way.
Bending, he put his lips close to her ear, so as to be heard above the military band. “I think they like you already.”
And, although her smile was a little wobbly, she held her head up as they descended the staircase.
Maazin waited at the bottom of the steps, a smile on his face. When Farhan had discussed with his brother their father’s directive to marry Sara, Maazin had simply said, “I just hope this works out better for you than it did for me, brother.”
The resignation in Maazin’s voice had reminded Farhan that an arranged marriage was always on the cards, since that was his family’s tradition, and three years ago, Maazin’s engagement to Lady Meleena had been announced. However, only close family knew that Lady Meleena had recently left Maazin for someone else. Farhan knew he was lucky that he and Sara had entered their marriage on their own terms. There was much to be said for that.
At the foot of the stairs, Maazin smiled at Sara. Farhan introduced them formally, and his brother bent to kiss Sara’s cheeks, saying, “Welcome, sister.”
“Thank you, Prince Maazin,” she murmured in reply, the tremor in her voice making Maazin’s smile soften in sympathy.
“Just Maazin, to you, and you’re already doing wonderfully,” he soothed. “Ready to run the gauntlet?”
“Wow. I was, until you called it that,” she rebutted, making both Farhan and Maazin chuckle.
Sara bent to accept a bunch of flowers from a pair of children, taking a few moments to ask their names and ages, and compliment them on their clothing. The little boy and girl basked in her attention, until someone hustled them away again.
The aide charged with keeping the welcome ceremony on time started making discreet little clucking noises, and Farhan knew she wanted them to move on to the receiving line. Ignoring her, he took a moment to tuck Sara’s free hand back into the crook of his arm and give her a lift of his brows.
“Shall we?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of steel that made him unaccountably proud.
And his admiration for her grew as they went down the line of dignitaries. She’d obviously memorized the pronunciation of all their names and the positions they held, and, with her soft voice and obvious interest in each person, turned a formal affair into something almost intimate.
Just as they came to the end of the line, screams rang out from behind the barriers holding the spectators at bay. Farhan swung around in time to see part of the crowd surge forward, confusion threatening to turn to chaos in an instant. Police officers stationed around the runway, along with military personnel, moved to do crowd control. Seeing people falling, perhaps being trampled, caused Farhan to rush to assist, shouldering his way through the ring of palace guards that immediately surrounded them.
It was only once at the barrier he realized Sara was right behind him. Before he could stop her, she slipped beneath the arm of a soldier trying to hold back the panicked crowd and disappeared into the swirling mass of humanity.
“Sara!”
Heart thundering, he shoved past a police officer to plunge in after her, just as the small stampede petered out.
Sara was kneeling, hunched over a woman who was lying on the ground curled into a ball. She had her arms curved protectively around the woman’s head and, as Farhan strode toward them, he heard the distinctive screams of a young child.
A member of the Royal Guard got to them first and bent to say something to Sara, who looked up and waved him away.
“I need to examine them, see what their injuries are,” Farhan heard her say, as he got to her side. “No, I won’t leave you to take care of them.”
“Stand down, Major,” he said.
“Yes, Your Highness.” The soldier saluted and stepped back, and if Farhan hadn’t been so angry at the fright she’d given him, he might have found the sympathetic glance the soldier gave him amusing.
Before he could say anything, Sara snapped, “Get an ambulance. She has a laceration on her arm, and I don’t know if she or the baby have other injuries.”
His training took over, and as the major spoke into his headset, summoning medics, Farhan shifted to the opposite side of the woman.
“Lie still,” Sara said to the young woman, who, after starting to roll over, froze, then stared up at Sara and Farhan, her mouth agape in shock. “Let me take a look at your baby.”
With a bit more coaxing, the woman let Sara take the baby and set him across her lap, where she could inspect him more carefully, while Farhan began his visual examination of the woman.
“Where hurts?” he asked, but the woman only blinked, making no attempt to answer.
He took her pulse, found it strong and only slightly elevated. But when she tugged her wrist free, he made no attempt to do anything further. Some of the women from more traditional backgrounds were uncomfortable with having a male doctor and, realizing she may be one, he decided to wait for the medics.
One of his first acts since coming back to Kalyana had been to revamp the emergency system, recruiting more women paramedics for just such a situation. It had been a fight, but he’d got it done.
“It’s okay, little man,” Sara was cooing to the little boy, her nimble, sure hands examining the squirming infant.
As though hypnotized by her attention, the baby quieted, and by the time the medics ran up he was smiling up at her, arms and legs waving freely.
Something shifted in Farhan’s chest to see Sara cradling the baby in her arms, warmth flowing out to settle in his belly and climb his spine. It was a picture of tenderness, as close to motherly love as it could be without it being her own child.
Why that had him staring, his insides churning with a sensation he didn’t recognize and didn’t wish to put a name to, he didn’t know.
She looked up then, their gazes colliding. Her eyes gleamed softly, and her lips were curved into a sweet, gentle smile.
Then the smile faded from her face and a touch of color stained her cheeks as she quickly looked away, turning her attention to the medics and relinquishing her hold on the infant.
As two female paramedics fitted the mother with a cervical collar, Farhan rose to get out of their way and held out his hand to help Sara to her feet. Her previously neat coif was a little disheveled and, along with her rosy blush, brought to mind that first startling moment he’d seen her, realized her quiet beauty.
“Your Highnesses.” The protocol aide, followed by Sara’s new assistant, Mara, came rushing over, and were let through the cordon of soldiers surrounding them. Farhan tore his gaze away from Sara to give the aide his attention. “You’re behind schedule now, and Princess Sara will have to freshen up before the audience at the palace.”
“Oh, but the children haven’t had a chance to sing for us yet. They’ll be terribly disappointed, having waited in the sun for so long.” Sara turned questioning eyes to Farhan. “Can’t we at least let them do one song before we leave?”
No, they couldn’t. They were due at the palace at a specific time, and it wouldn’t do to keep his father waiting.
Yet he wavered, unaccountably wanting to make her happy.
Maazin came over, brushing off his uniform, having also jumped into the fray.
“It was a bench that collapsed under the weight of people standing on it. The injured are being taken to the hospital. We should be going. Is there a hold-up?”
And Farhan heard himself say stiffly, “My wife would like to hear the children sing.” He turned to the aide and said, “Please advise the palace there will be a
small delay.”
He turned away to offer Sara his arm, but not quickly enough to miss Maazin’s raised eyebrows and grin.
Dammit, it was her first day in Kalyana, and if she wanted to hear the children sing, then let her hear them sing!
CHAPTER FOUR
EVEN WITH THE DELAY, they got to the palace on time, and with Sara buffed and polished. With ruthless efficiency Farhan arranged for Mara to travel with them in the limousine, and her personal assistant efficiently brushed a smear of dust from Sara’s dress, as well as fixing her hair and make-up.
Not that Sara made the job easy for her.
“Please, Your Highness, if you could turn your head this way...”
But Sara could hardly take her eyes off the people lining the streets, the scenery visible beyond the colorful buildings.
Kalyana was gorgeous, and seeing it, and its people, made her heart sing.
She’d never felt more excited in her life.
It truly felt like coming home.
Perhaps not the smartest way to feel, since she was only here for a relatively short time, but it was impossible to ignore the way her heart pounded with joy.
The royal palace was on a hill, and her first glimpse of it made Sara gasp. It was like something out of a fairy-tale. Not a European tale, though, something more Eastern.
She’d seen pictures of Moorish castles, and Huban Palace seemed closer in design to those.
The walls of warm-hued stone gave a sense of solidity, but the ranks of arched windows lightened the fortress-like façade. Ringed by lush vegetation and bright flowers, it was a picture-perfect scene.
And the interior of the palace was so gorgeous she stood for a moment, gaping like the country bumpkin she knew herself to be.
They walked through huge, wonderfully carved doors into a majestic entranceway of creamy stone walls, with two curved staircases sweeping upward on either side. Intricate carving adorned the arches around doorways and gave life to the stone balustrades, while the marble floor gleamed beneath their feet, reflecting the colors of massive floral arrangements.