by Allen, Jewel
Of course. She was vile and disgusting to him. A snake in the grass.
She bit her lip. “You could, if you’d like.”
His gaze swung back to hers. The anger that burned in them made her take a step back. “I know you have no integrity, but have you no self-respect either?”
His words cascaded over her like a hot desert wind. “I invited you because I love you. If I can’t be with you, then what’s the point of staying married, even for that long?”
He grabbed her arm. “Make no mistake, the only reason for me to stay married to you is to keep my enemies at bay and to give me a chance to take a different wife.”
She stared at his hand. His touch scorched her skin, like spreading wildfire. Despite the anger he’d leveled and the corresponding response he’d lit in her, she still loved this man. He still lit a fire within her that burned and burned bright despite the darkness they both faced.
Raising her eyes to his, he looked as dazed as she felt. She couldn’t keep her thoughts straight as his eyes fell to her mouth.
Her brain reminded herself, Marriage in name only; he doesn’t want you, but her body moved of its own volition. With a little torturous whisper of his name, she stepped forward, falling in their tangle of arms and hands circling the other.
His mouth captured hers in a searing kiss that obliterated all thought. She was vaguely aware of his hand threading through her hair and coaxing her to her toes to meet his passion, and his other hand caressing the length of her waist and hip through the thin fabric of her nightgown. They were married, they could—
He thrust her from him in an explosive movement, his breath ragged, his eyes heated.
She reeled, her own body trying to recover from the kiss and his subsequent rejection.
His lip curled with disgust, and he turned on his heel without a word, exiting the room and slamming the door shut.
The resulting echo reverberated in her hollow heart. The pain came soon after, a squeezing of her chest and a numbness in her soul.
Samir, she cried out to herself. Samir.
Even if she’d spoken this out loud, he wouldn’t heed her call.
She backed up and startled as she hit a large dresser that could have contained several persons’ garments. She glanced over her shoulder at her face in the mirror. At her lips swollen from Samir’s confusing kiss. At the cowering shame in her eyes. And unleashed tears down her cheeks with ugly abandon.
21
In the hallway, Samir steadied himself before walking off. He’d meant to simply confront her, lay down their new rules of engagement, and leave her.
That kiss. He closed his eyes. He shouldn’t have touched her. He would have to do better next time. Not that there would be a next time.
He’d have to be careful to not be alone with her. He’d sit apart. And not look at her. Not hear her voice.
Entering his bedroom and closing the door, he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and saw her. He closed his eyes, and still, he saw her. He smelled and tasted her kiss.
They were married, so they could—
No.
A thousand no’s.
This was the very reason why he was even in this mess. The physical had clouded his judgment.
He spoke aloud, “Plus, I don’t love her.”
The words echoed in the room. If he said them often enough and with conviction, he would actually feel that way, one hundred percent. He moved to the bed, sat on the edge, and bowed his head.
He had a splitting headache. He had a split heart.
There was a soft knock on the door. He didn’t answer it straightaway. If it was Reese begging for him to take her back, well, she had him figured out wrong. He wasn’t that big of a fool.
He let several minutes pass, and then he opened the door. No one was standing there. On the floor was the black velvet box. The Alouite jewels. He opened the box, just to be sure, and there they were intact.
Was she insane? Someone could have plucked them off the floor.
At the same time, she did save him another day of interrogation as to the jewels’ state. He would do well to have his manservant lock them up for…for his next wife.
Why had he even said three months? That felt like forever.
If he found a different wife sooner, he could shorten that time. Yes, three months could very well be whittled down to a month. Maybe sooner. He would throw himself into the task. This time, he wasn’t going to take his chances. Everyone would be vetted first. If it weren’t for the political pressure, he’d put off having a wife indefinitely. Maybe forever. At least until an heir was necessary.
He undressed, his skin prickling with goose bumps at the slight chill of the air-conditioner. Then he slipped under the covers, pulling his knees up to his chest in a fetal position.
Tonight was supposed to be his wedding night, but she’d made a farce of it. He fell asleep in fits—starts and stops—until finally, he had an uneasy dream.
He was walking through the palace, and someone was following him. He glanced over his shoulder to see who it was, but just as he stopped, the person stopped too.
Up ahead, Reese sat on the throne in a resplendent red dress, lording over a royal ball. But he was wearing only his street clothes.
Reese glanced up at him, her lips curving into a smile. He didn’t want to go to her, but her eyes compelled him until he sat beside her, her painted red fingernails leaving a trail on his skin.
“Just let it happen,” she whispered. “Let it happen.”
He wanted to believe her, so he did. He turned and took her in his arms. At the touch of her lips, he flinched with pain. And no wonder. Her teeth had turned into fish teeth: buck-toothed, jagged, and giving new meaning to man-eater.
He woke in a cold sweat.
Throwing back the covers, Samir got out of bed and padded softly to his French windows that led to the balcony. The day’s events had thrown a wrench in his expectations. His heart squeezed with sadness that he was finally allowing himself to feel.
Reese had said she loved him, but could she be believed?
Maybe…Axel should have kept his information to himself.
Ignorance was bliss.
Now knowledge was torture.
But he would have wanted to know. Better now than later when perhaps Samir would’ve been more entrenched in the relationship, when the damage could have been far greater. When the jewels might have disappeared or a child born.
He went back to bed and looked at the clock. It was three in the morning. The morning of his honeymoon. A honeymoon they were obligated to fake for appearances’ sake.
He fell asleep for what seemed like one moment, and then it was morning. With sluggish movements, he got out of bed and pulled on the bell for his manservant, Tariq, to come help him. Within the hour, he had packed for a honeymoon in which his heart wasn’t.
“Is my wife ready yet?” Samir asked Tariq.
My wife.
“I am not sure, Your Highness, but I can check.”
“No matter. Please just make sure she is ready soon.”
“And did you sleep well, Your Highness?” Tariq’s voice was all innocence, but Samir knew what he was asking.
Why did you spend the night in separate bedrooms?
“Yes, I did. Thank you for your help. I can take care of the rest.”
He put a few more things in his suitcase. As he did so, his fingers brushed over some of the new garments he’d bought for this trip. Clothes that Reese had helped pick out. For a moment, he remembered that playful time at the store when all was shut down for their visit and Reese had pulled him into a dressing room for a kiss.
His chest constricted with an ache. They had some good times in his ignorance. They seemed genuinely happy. She seemed genuinely happy.
Shaking his head to cast off the memories, he snapped his suitcase shut. Normally, he’d have gone to his wife to help her with her things, but the servants could do it. He called Tariq and reminded him to se
nd a servant to attend to her needs, too.
“She’s already downstairs, Your Highness.”
Surprised, Samir proceeded down the stairs, leaving his suitcase at the landing. He spied a feminine figure standing in the room just directly to the left of the staircase. It was probably Reese.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he waited by the window. When Reese didn’t come out, he gave an exasperated sigh and walked over to her.
She was standing by the window, looking at a book. Just yesterday, they had been so in love. He’d have come into the room, possibly shut the doors, and pulled her playfully into a kiss. Instead, he stood there like a fool, his glance taking in the lovely turquoise dress she was wearing, mirroring the morning sky. She flipped a page and must have barely realized he was there, because her eyes widened.
He remembered that dress. She had shown it to him after the dressing room, twirling slowly, and he had unabashedly complimented her on it. She looked beautiful in it, but of course, he couldn’t acknowledge that. Not now.
“It’s time to go,” he said.
“Of course.” She tried to reach the spot where the book had come from, but it was a bit of a stretch.
He walked over without thinking and stood behind her.
She froze and glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Here,” he said, his voice embarrassingly husky, “let me.”
“Thank you,” she said, letting him pluck the book from her hand. But he had blocked her in so there was nowhere for her to go but stand there while he reached over her head, trying to ignore her floral scent.
He moved away as soon as his good deed was done, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wondered if his nearness had affected her equally as she had telltale pink spots on her cheeks.
Axel joined them in the hallway. It was the first time his bodyguard had been in contact with Reese since after the wedding. Her expression tightened as he approached, and then she was walking off the other way to the main entryway of the palace.
She might not like Axel for obvious reasons, but Samir owed him the safety of his kingdom.
22
When Samir stood behind her to help with the book, Reese nearly melted from his nearness. She had already purged him from her heart last night—or so she thought. Having his warmth against her back and his hand brushing hers to take the book from her was almost too much to bear without wanting to turn to him and debase herself.
Take me back.
But of course, she wasn’t going to do that. She was a tough girl. She didn’t need a man in her life.
Even as she tried to ignore him, she noticed the wonderful cut of his suit, a new one she had helped pick out during their crazy days of love.
Love.
The word rolled around dully in her head. What was love? She thought she’d found it with Samir, but as usual, he proved her wrong. Love was elusive. Love wasn’t part of her life. She’d grown up independent, and she needed to steel herself again so she could survive emotionally for the next three months.
To be next to him but not acknowledge him. To be in the same room and not hold him. To lie at night in the bedroom next to his and to not talk to him into the wee hours of the night like they had for the past forty days. To watch him search for a new wife.
Why did she stay? She should have snuck out in the middle of the night. She still could. Quinn taught her well. She could disappear, and Samir would be none the wiser.
Maybe she was tired of running away. Maybe it was just fair that she finally had to own up to her thievery all these years.
A limo waited for them at the curb of the palace. Samir opened the back passenger door like a dutiful husband, even though both knew he’d just as soon eat rocks than to show affection to his thief of a wife. Axel hid behind sunglasses and took up his post by the vehicle. Always watching.
In a way, it was a relief. He knew what she was, and she didn’t have to watch her back. She wondered what he knew of her. Not that it mattered now. She still had a black mark against her.
A cluster of people was coming down the spacious drive with security. They looked like media, carrying huge cameras. They stayed a few yards away from Samir and her, taking photos the whole while. Reese forced herself to smile. It wouldn’t look good to be scowling on your honeymoon.
Bittermoon was more like it.
A reporter asked, “How did you and the princess fall in love?”
Samir and Reese exchanged glances. She watched him mutely. Good luck to him answering that.
“She attended a party I hosted,” he said, his voice with that soft foreign inflection still doing wonders to her. “We started to talk, and it snowballed from there.”
“Princess, what do you love most about the king?”
Reese gazed into Samir’s eyes and smiled. “He’s a very caring person. He’s strong, but you know he has a lot of heart. I…I was with him when his father took a turn for the worse, and I think I fell in love with him most then.”
The press scribbled furiously on their pads.
Someone asked, “Where are—”
“No more questions, please,” Samir told the press as he put a hand on the small of Reese’s back. She glanced at him from under her lashes, her breath stilling from the contact, which he quickly withdrew.
A reporter shouted, “Could you please give her a kiss, Your Highness, for a photo?”
Reese didn’t dare look in his eyes. She glanced at his throat instead, where his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously.
Samir turned to Reese and glanced at her lips. A hunger built inside her as he dipped his head for a small peck. They both faked smiles and moved toward the limo.
“Come on, you gave us better pictures before your wedding.” The man cleared his throat at Axel’s glare and then told Samir, “Begging your pardon, Your Highness.”
“If it weren’t you, Osun,” Samir said good-naturedly, “I’d say, ‘Off with your head.’”
Osun grinned and patted the mentioned body part. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Samir touched Reese’s neck and slowly angled for a kiss.
For a few seconds, Reese couldn’t breathe. She could smell his musk cologne and mint on his lips. His suit felt soft under her fingers.
He leaned forward, and Reese was vaguely aware of the cameras whizzing and flashes popping.
Their lips brushed once, twice, tantalizingly soft and achingly gentle. This was the Samir she knew. This was the Samir she loved.
As soon as the kiss started, it was over. Reese smiled and waved. The media clapped, pacified.
They slid into the limo, just the two of them in the back. The silence was deafening. Unless one counted the thudding of her heart in her chest from that kiss.
She looked out the window with unseeing eyes. They sat far enough to not touch. Against her good judgment, Reese’s mind drifted back to their kiss. He kissed her as though he cared about her.
She shook herself out of the traitorous thought. “Where are we going?”
“We’ll go to a village celebration first,” he said. “The limo is taking us to the airport, and then we’ll take a little plane down to Fineja.”
“All right,” she said.
She pretended to sleep, as there wasn’t anything for them to talk about without seeming that they were together or, worse, flirting. Reese kept to her side, and Samir stayed on his.
The plane was a cute little four-seater with enough room for them and Axel. She wondered if Jason had been relieved of his duties so Axel could pay closer attention to Reese.
Samir took the helm with Reese beside him and Axel behind them. Even though they weren’t going to be truly man and wife, they still had to keep up appearances.
“You love to fly, don’t you?” Reese asked.
Samir glanced at her, startled. “Yes, yes I do.”
An awkward silence descended upon them. “How come?” she persisted.
“I enlisted in the Moroccan Royal Air Force. I w
anted the adventure of planes. I think most boys grow up picturing themselves as pilots. I did too. My father was smart enough to encourage me in my interests. Mother liked the idea too, so I soon enlisted. I was in for a few years, enough to get my pilot’s license and go on a few deployments.”
“What is it about flying that you love so much?”
“The freedom,” he said. “The beauty of the sky and seeing the world below. The silence of nothingness. No demands on my time. It’s just me and the plane.”
Reese flicked a glance over to him, and they smiled in understanding. Just as quickly, the moment was over. He frowned as though remembering he wasn’t supposed to be friendly to her and turned back toward the controls.
But he was right. As the plane dipped and tipped slightly, Reese felt one with it. Samir was a skillful pilot, and she could sense his peace as they soared through the sky.
After about an hour, the plane started descending. Samir nosed the front down, and Reese could feel her stomach flipping with the movement.
Samir touched the little plane down on a runway. If things had been normal between them, she would have complimented him on his plane flying skills. As it was, her praise died in her throat.
A limo picked them up, and this time, Jason joined them.
“I’ve done all the advance work,” Jason told Axel.
Grudgingly, Reese knew the men were simply doing their jobs and doing them well. Once again, she slid into the limo and Samir next to her.
Samir seemed to anticipate her curiosity. “We will go to a UNESCO World Heritage site. It’s called Aït-Ben-Haddou. It’s still a working village, though some of the tenants are artisans. It was a fortress built in the seventeenth century that has been preserved meticulously since. It’s the only one of its kind in our country.”
Families lined the steps to the village. Reese watched Samir bow to the elderly, and she followed suit. It was a hot, sultry day, and Reese chafed a little in her dress. Thankfully, she’d worn sensible flats that were good for climbing the red rock cut into steps.