by Allen, Jewel
Maybe she was scared of commitment herself.
Samir raised his head and looked at her. She wished she could see his eyes under those glasses.
“I’m ready to go,” she said.
“Everything okay?”
She froze at his words. “Okay?”
“That phone call.”
“Oh.” She felt a prick of relief. “That was my brother. He was just checking in with me.”
“He must care for you a lot.”
Did Quinn care for her? She wasn’t sure. All their lives, he only expressed his affection for her when she successfully completed a con job.
She shrugged. “I suppose you could say that.”
Gathering her things and putting on her turquoise dress, she became aware of him getting up and shrugging on his shirt. By the time he was done, she had already reached the cliff steps. His bodyguard took the shade and followed after them.
In the car, she was quiet, thinking of the future, or lack thereof, with Samir. Because she wasn’t going to push it.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.
She forced a smile. “I did, thank you.”
He studied her through his shades. “You seem worried about something.”
“Do I?”
He nodded. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No,” she said in a hurry. “Nothing’s wrong.”
A heartbeat, and then, “All right.”
He pulled into the shaded parking spot by her Airbnb steps. Three girls, her neighbors, were smoking on the patio furniture, even though that was against the rules.
Samir came around and opened her door. Reese tucked her legs and got out. The gravel crunched under her sandals as she made her way to the steps.
The girls eyed Samir hungrily. They were Americans like Reese, all long-haired and attractive. Maybe after Reese rejected him, Samir would make a move on one of them.
But he wasn’t like that. That was what was astonishing about him. He could be, but he chose not to.
She slipped her old-fashioned key in the keyhole, and it opened with a click. She turned, and he was standing near her, his sunglasses off. His eyes were slightly red from the swimming and sunning.
Those eyes pinned her with his gaze now.
“May I see you again?” he asked.
And despite all her reluctance and her determination to scuttle Quinn’s plans, she said yes.
10
He couldn’t stay away even if he tried.
One day in Eggai stretched to three. He called his secretary and canceled everything, requesting regular updates on his father. Samir stayed in his beach house at night, but during the day, he sought Reese out like a bee craving honey.
The first day, Samir played a last-minute polo match at an exclusive resort. Unabashedly American, Reese screamed his name from the crowd. When his team lost, Reese congratulated him anyway. Had he won, there would have been a winner’s kiss…
That night, they stargazed at a friend’s private observatory. The following day, he took her to his favorite little French bistro. The third morning, before the heat engulfed Eggai, they took a little hike up a hill. That afternoon, they laughed their way through a little cooking class at Jadda’s.
At the end of it all, he was undoubtedly, hopelessly smitten.
And still, no kiss. Even though she tortured him with her nearness during his waking hours and invaded his dreams.
If he didn’t invade hers, then perhaps she had no heart.
On the third evening, Samir was standing once again on Reese’s stoop, straightening his tie. He’d told her to dress nice, and she’d simply smiled before entering her lodging that afternoon.
Now she opened her door, stunning in her mauve dress. The fabric was soft, a chiffon, falling nicely around her slender body, the long sleeves gathered at the wrists. Her blonde hair framed her face.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.” Her glance traveled over his suit and lingered on his beard. “And you look handsome.”
He offered her an arm, and she took it as he led her down to the curb where his car waited. The air was redolent with the roses growing along the path, mingled with her intoxicating perfume.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he slipped into the driver’s seat.
He smiled, clicking his seat belt in place. “Casablanca.” He paused. “To the casino.”
An hour later, his pilot was landing the helicopter on the roof of the Grand Casino, one of the casinos owned by Samir’s family. He walked in, escorting Reese. Friends and business associates greeted him, glancing at her, as they should. Under the lights of the casino, she simply glowed. Who could take their eyes off her? Certainly not him.
He played some high stakes games and mentored her through a game of roulette. In the end, he lost more than he won, and it was time to wrap it up.
They sat at the bar, sipping virgin drinks and chatting about anything and everything. Loosely relaxed. She’d swiveled on the stool toward him, leaning forward to catch what he was saying. He leaned forward too, his knee bumping hers. He caught her scent and was lost in her.
She told a story about a funny incident in Italy when she was there visiting her brother, and he simply listened to her voice washing over him in pleasurable waves.
He reached up and pushed her hair from her cheek, his finger tracing her jaw before pulling away. Her expression was dazed, mirroring his own.
His gaze fell to her lips. No one would care if he leaned over and kissed her. But he did care. He wanted their first kiss to be special and perfect. Not something stolen in this crowd.
Samir sensed someone approaching to his right. It was Jason. He leaned away from Reese. Jason had better have a good reason.
“Pardon me, Your Royal Highness,” Jason said. “But I thought you would want to know right away. The king’s health has taken a turn for the worse.”
The king.
Samir turned to Reese, whose expression was one of deep concern. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Of course,” she murmured, already standing up.
In the elevator, Jason filled him in on the details. The king had a stroke and went into a coma.
“I was just with him this afternoon,” Samir said to himself.
Reese touched his sleeve. Samir turned to her and covered her hand with his. She leaned into him and pressed her cheek against his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
“You don’t have to take me home,” she said. “It’ll slow you down. I can figure out a way—”
“Then come with me.”
She looked stunned. “I don’t want to intrude, though.”
“You won’t be intruding. That is, if you don’t mind. There might be a lot of waiting with my mother, Princess Galea.”
“Princess? But I thought your father is king?”
“He is, but his wife’s title is Princess. Before Mother, we have never had a title for the king’s wife.”
“Ah. I see. Of course I won’t mind waiting with her.”
The doctors were conferring in the hallway of his father’s room when Samir arrived. Samir sought out his father’s lead physician, Dr. Umil.
“Your Highness,” the doctor said.
Impatient, Samir waved away the formalities. “I need to see him.”
“Of course.”
Samir turned to Reese. In her dress and with her glow from their swimming that day, she took his breath away. He could easily picture her as his royal consort, the next princess…
She held out her hands, and he clung to them like a lifeline. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I would like you to go in with me,” he said. “The princess might object, but I will explain.”
Dr. Umil cleared his throat. “That is highly irregular, Your Highness.”
Samir turned his head but didn’t look at the doctor in the eyes. “These are highly irregular times.”
Dr. U
mil said nothing else.
Samir led Reese inside the royal chambers by the hand.
11
Reese’s hand felt small in Samir’s.
To be led into a dying monarch’s bedchambers by the crown prince—the moment seemed unreal. The room, the length of at least three average bedrooms, was dimly lit by two lamps at one end. At that same end, medical equipment crowded a four-poster bed.
A woman sat on a chair, and she turned now, glancing first at Samir and then at Reese.
The woman spoke sharply in Arabic to Samir.
“Mother,” he said, “this is my special friend, Reese. She only speaks English.”
“Then she will understand if I say I take offense you have brought her here during such a private time.”
Where she might have pulled away to leave the room, Samir’s hand clasped hers even tighter.
“I need her here, Mother. Please, let her stay.”
His stepmother’s mouth tightened into a straight line.
“Mother, this is Reese Morgan. Reese, this is my mother, Princess Galea.”
Reese curtsied. Was that what she was supposed to do? “I am so sorry about your husband.”
Princess Galea didn’t respond, continuing to look at her as though she were an encroacher, justifiably so.
Samir let her hand go, and Reese stayed back as he approached the bed. The king was covered in tubes and hooked up to the machines. He lay motionless.
The mother and son spoke quietly. As Samir had prepared Reese, Princess Galea sat with an air of disapproval. If anything, she almost seemed to simmer with anger.
Their eyes met, woman to woman. Princess Galea’s expression hardened as though warning Reese to stay away from her son.
Which Reese could very well do. But not right now. Not when Samir needed her. She didn’t even care about the jewels anymore. She was here only as his friend.
He turned to her, and she moved to his side. He held her hand.
“Father,” he said in a broken voice. “This is Reese, my friend. Since you can’t see right now, I’ll describe her to you.”
The king’s eyes were closed, and his body lay inert under all those tubes.
“She’s beautiful, not just outside, but inside. She is an American from New York, with silky blonde hair and eyes as blue as the sea. She didn’t have to come tonight, but she did, and I really appreciate it. She’s graceful and elegant, and she swims like a mermaid.” His voice lowered. “I think I am falling in love with her.”
It hurt to breathe. Reese was skirting a danger zone. He may have been a prince, but these were real feelings of a real person. Shame surged through Reese. She should have curtailed this early on. But here they were, and it was too late to turn back the hands of time.
Samir squeezed her hand and turned to give her a smile. “Father, I’d like your blessing for Reese and me to continue our special friendship. I know I will need to get the permission of the Parliament to pursue marriage with her if the time comes. Exploring a relationship is something I would very much like to do, if Reese would have me.”
The words echoed in her head. If Reese would have me.
Samir bowed his head over his father’s comatose body.
“I must stop you, my son,” Princess Galea said, standing on his other side. “You’re in the middle of a mournful situation. You mustn’t make a rash decision,” here she looked at Reese pointedly, “about something as momentous as marriage.”
“Mother,” Samir replied in a low voice. “I’m not making that decision right now, but you and I know that in order for this kingdom to be able to stave off the threats from Kundara and Jainor, I would need to marry and cement the succession. Else, our distant cousins will try to turn the people against us. Against me.”
He put an arm around Reese’s waist. “If it weren’t for Father’s health, I wouldn’t be thinking of these things, but now I must.”
Princess Galea’s gaze pinned Reese, making her squirm under her scrutiny. “I’m well aware that you’ve barely met. I have my sources. The night of your friend’s engagement party. How impulsive is that?”
“Mother, I can understand your concern. Please understand that I am not rushing anything.”
“You are considering a foreigner as your consort. You will have to move this quickly for this to fly in the face of your cousins’ threats.”
“Understood.”
Princess Galea sat down, giving Reese a sour look.
If there ever was a motivator for Reese to back off and get out of Samir’s life, the princess had given her one.
This was the pinnacle of her trip to Morocco, to snag this bachelor prince and get him to propose to her…but this was far too real.
No, she couldn’t do this, could she?
She wouldn’t be able to walk away unscathed if she were to say yes. She would have to carry through with not just their engagement, but their marriage.
As for the jewels…
They could rot in Samir’s vault, for all she cared. Samir was richer than rich. Reese could pacify Quinn with money.
Yes, that could be the way.
Knowing Quinn, he’d still want the jewels for bragging rights.
The thoughts buzzed in her head like a hive of angry bees.
Calm down, Reese. Cross that bridge if you get there.
For now, Reese would simply be a comforting presence. She owed Samir that much.
12
Samir’s father continued to fight for life past midnight.
Another stroke attacked his body, and he was simply too weak to withstand it. Samir’s mother gave the orders to pull the plug, but Samir begged for one more night. In the morning, if nothing had changed, then they could proceed, he told her.
He knew Princess Galea welcomed her husband’s demise. Especially after the way he treated her while he was healthier. But Samir didn’t judge her for it. He loved his father, but he had his faults. And soon, he would be gone.
Samir would have huge shoes to fill.
He roused where he was sitting on a sofa in the receiving room where the doctors were coming and going. Beside him, quiet through this whole ordeal, was Reese.
Reese. His chest tightened with affection and gratitude for her presence.
He turned to her and smiled a smile he didn’t feel.
She smiled back. Without complaints.
He needed to make this woman his own.
But first, royal matters awaited.
Already, several emissaries for the neighboring nations had come to offer their condolences…and to negotiate with Samir about disputed items and to offer to be the kingdom’s steward until a married Samir would be able to assume the throne, as would be the custom.
Samir, simmering in his anger, had sent them away in no uncertain terms. The mourning period tradition in Morocco was forty days, and they were to leave him alone during that time.
He couldn’t marry until then, but he could announce his engagement.
His eyes strayed to Reese. She looked exhausted, sitting on the sofa and leaning against the cushions.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said.
She demurred. “I should probably go home, yes. I can get myself there.”
“Hush. This palace has lots of rooms, and you will have your own.”
Reese didn’t continue to fight it. She looked about ready to fall asleep. He held out his hand, and she took it. The touch gave him a jolt. A delicious sensation that made him yearn for her. Not just in a sensual sense, but in a warm-hug manner, to remind him that everything would be all right, even as his father was dying.
They walked out of the room together. He found staff who could help prepare a bedroom in a hurry, and he stuck around to make sure it got done. They held hands the whole time, him to get support from her as much as she gained support from him. They spent several minutes with their heads bent together, looking at and talking about his ancestor’s portraits on the walls.
“Your country’s histor
y is amazing,” she said in a hushed voice.
“I suppose,” he said, considering her words. “It’s a country born of violence and strife. Too much inter-tribal warfare.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
A staffer informed him that a bedroom was ready. They followed her down the quiet hallways and up a flight of stairs until they came to one of the guest bedrooms that overlooked the gardens.
The room was in darkness as the door opened. As it swung wider, moonlight streamed through the windows. The arch design of the windows echoed the centuries-old history of the Berbers.
The staffer turned on a couple of lamps and withdrew. The yellowish light cast a warm glow on the rich tapestries and bedspread, the fabric overlay of the four-poster bed. A nightgown had been laid on the coverlet. Glancing at it, Samir felt his cheeks grow warm.
“This is very generous of you,” she said.
“It’s the least I could do for your kindness in being with me.”
She walked over to the bed and stood behind a pillar, gazing at him. He wanted to do nothing else but to walk over to her and pull her to him in an embrace, or even a kiss.
But his father was ill and needed him. “Please,” he said, “if you need anything, let my staff know. Just dial 0 on the intercom.”
She smiled. “Like a hotel.”
He smiled back. “Like a hotel.”
Her eyes glimmered across the room at him. He bowed and turned to go.
“Samir,” she said.
“Yes?” He turned eagerly.
“I will be praying for your father.”
“Thank you.”
He left without the kiss he had been yearning for.
13
Reese woke up disoriented. She gazed at the heavy tapestry above her, remarkably luxurious and intricate in the detail, and then it all came back to her.