The Sheik & the Princess Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Her suite door beckoned. After an afternoon of simulation training, ending with that heated discussion with Jefri, all she wanted was to be left alone for the rest of the day. No more outbursts from her brother, no meetings with the king, no sensual, smoldering close encounters with Jefri. Just peace and quiet.

  She opened the suite door. “It’s me,” she called to let Muffin know she was home.

  As usual her small dog yapped in greeting, but she didn’t bound over to see her. That was because Muffin was neatly curled up in Tahira’s lap.

  Billie stared at her uninvited guest. The young woman sat on the floor by the sofa. Several fashion magazines lay scattered around her. The one she held dropped from her hands as she quickly pushed Muffin off her, then scrambled to her feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tahira said, panic filling her eyes. “I did not mean to intrude. I waited outside, but the maid said I should come in and then your dog was so friendly and these magazines…” Tahira ducked her head and twisted her fingers together in a picture of abject misery and contrition.

  Billie dropped her purse on a table and kicked off her shoes. She felt both old and weary. If she’d been a drinker, this would have been the moment to indulge. Instead she found herself wishing for a really big bowl of chocolate chip ice cream.

  “It’s okay,” she said as she walked over to the club chair and sat down. Muffin instantly jumped on her lap.

  “I intruded,” Tahira said, still not looking up.

  “You sat on the floor and read a few magazines. That’s not exactly the same as identity theft. Really. It’s fine. Have a seat.”

  The girl sank onto the sofa. “You are very kind.”

  What Billie felt the most at the moment was crabby and out of sorts. Nothing in her world was right and most of that had been caused by the teenager sitting across from her. Hard to believe that someone so quiet and shy could be the reason, yet there it was.

  Tahira’s long dark hair hung nearly to her waist. The heavy weight overpowered her delicate features and petite body. Billie wasn’t all that tall but next to the teenager, she was practically a giant.

  Jefri’s fiancée had dressed in another shapeless, ugly dress. Obviously princess preparation with the nuns hadn’t included classes on being a snappy dresser. Her gaze drifted down to the magazines scattered on the floor. They were all about clothes and makeup and relationships. Not exactly favorites in diplomatic circles. Had Tahira even seen a fashion magazine before?

  “What did you think of those?” Billie asked, pointing at one glossy cover.

  Tahira glanced at her and smiled. “They’re wonderful!” she breathed. “The clothes are so amazing and the women…I could never look like that.”

  “Most of us couldn’t,” Billie said with a laugh. “We shouldn’t even try. But it’s fun to get ideas about clothes and that sort of thing.”

  Tahira fingered her moss-green dress. “I have no fashionable clothes. Not yet. At the school we dressed modestly. The sisters didn’t approve of anything else.”

  “You’re not at the school anymore.”

  “I know.” Tahira sighed. “This palace is so different from what I grew up with. There are so many men.”

  “I guess they weren’t allowed at the school?”

  “Not at all.” Tahira looked shocked at the idea. “There were priests, of course. And one of the doctors was a man, but he was very old. I met the king a few times. He was kind enough to visit me every year or so.”

  Billie found it difficult to imagine such a life. “What about trips? Didn’t you go anywhere on vacation?”

  “No.” The girl shook her head. “We traveled a little on the island, but only in groups and never in the tourist season.”

  Sounded like prison to her, Billie thought.

  She put Muffin on the floor, then collected the magazines. “I’ve read all of these,” she said, thrusting the stack at Tahira. “You may take them if you’d like.”

  “Really?” Tahira’s eyes brightened. “You are very kind.”

  Less than you might think. Billie shrugged as she resumed her seat. “It’s no big deal.”

  The teenager hugged the magazines close. “You fly jets.”

  Billie laughed. “Are you asking or telling?”

  “Both, I suppose. Prince Jefri mentioned it. He said you are very talented. Your work, it sounds exciting and dangerous.”

  “It’s all I know.”

  “I’m afraid to fly,” Tahira said in a small voice. “The plane goes so quickly and then the ground is far away. It doesn’t seem right.”

  “It gets easier with practice.”

  The girl scooted to the edge of her seat. “It’s not just flying,” she admitted softly. “Many things frighten me. Prince Jefri, for one. He is so tall and commanding. When he speaks I think about running and hiding behind the sofa.”

  Billie resisted the urge to run screaming from the room. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Certainly not with Jefri’s fiancée. But it seemed as if the girl had no one else to help her.

  “There’s no need to be frightened of the man you’re going to marry,” Billie said with a smile. “He’s not that scary. Actually, he’s very nice and kind.”

  Tahira’s mouth thinned. “I never know what to say when I’m with him. Most of the time I don’t say anything. He’s nothing like the sisters.”

  Billie grinned. “I would have to agree with that. But it’s a good thing.”

  “Maybe.” She glanced around as if making sure they were alone. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  Billie bit back a groan. This wasn’t fair. Why her? There were other women in the palace. Cleo, Prince Sadik’s wife. Or secretaries and female staff.

  “You barely know him and he barely knows you,” Billie said, trying to be reasonable. “You need to spend more time together to figure out if you like each other.”

  Tahira looked doubtful. “I thought I would know. I thought when I finally met Prince Jefri, my heart would beat faster and my knees would get weak.”

  Billie stared at the girl. “What exactly do you know about weak knees?”

  Tahira ducked her head. “Some of the girls had families. They went home for holidays and when they came back they brought books for the rest of us. You know, stories about falling in love.” She glanced up and bit her lower lip. “Do you think it was wrong of me to read them?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I wasn’t sure and there was no one to ask. So when I met Prince Jefri I thought…” Her voice trailed off. “Perhaps the feelings will come later. As you say, we don’t know each other.”

  Billie tried to be fair. Tahira seemed like a sweet enough girl, but she was no match for a stubborn, arrogant, wonderful man like Jefri. He was going to run her in circles. Not that this was her problem.

  “Give it time,” she said.

  “I will,” Tahira promised. “I’m doing all I can to make the prince proud of me. I’ve been keeping up on current events so that when I attend the state dinner at the end of the week I can speak without embarrassing him.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The state dinner, huh? Billie had been invited and until Tahira’s arrival, she’d been looking forward to attending, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  “I don’t know what to wear,” Tahira said, then swallowed. “My clothes from the convent, well, the sisters picked them out.”

  Ah, so that explained the problem.

  “Now you can pick out your own,” she said, going for cheerful and wondering how she could politely ask Tahira to leave. Billie felt the beginnings of a headache at her temples.

  “I know nothing of fashion or even what is appropriate. I know three languages and the correct way to address every head of state, but not what to wear at a formal dinner. If I’m wrong, Prince Jefri will be disappointed.”

  Billie held in a groan. “I’m sure there are some stores in town that…”

  “Yes,” Tahir
a said eagerly. “The prince has told me to go shopping. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I was hoping you would come with me.”

  Billie wanted to say no. Even though she loved shopping nearly as much as flying there was no way she wanted to spend an entire day with Jefri’s fiancée. Even if the girl was clueless.

  “I’m not an expert on dressing for the palace,” she said, trying not to feel as if she were kicking a puppy.

  “But you are so beautiful. And you have such style.”

  Billie knew there was going to be trouble if Tahira thought she was stylish. “I think I like sparkle a little bit more than the average princess,” she said.

  “No. Your clothes are perfect.”

  Billie knew she was being punished. Probably for giving in to Jefri in the first place. Maybe it would be easier to surrender to the inevitable and get it over with.

  “Why not,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll go shopping with you.”

  Tahira’s whole face lit up. “Thank you so much. You are very kind. Is ten in the morning acceptable?”

  “Sure.”

  She would have to let Doyle know he was on his own for classes. Her brother would complain, but so what? Besides, a day spent with Tahira meant a day not spent with Jefri and right now she could use a break from his particular brand of temptation.

  Billie decided to bring Muffin along for moral support. Plus her dog always loved a good shopping spree. Promptly at ten the following morning, she made her way to the main entrance of the palace where she found Tahira waiting.

  The girl had traded in her ugly green dress for an ugly brown one. Her long hair had been pulled back in a plain braid and not a dot of makeup touched her skin. Billie itched to have a go at her thick eyebrows. Some plucking, a bit of eye shadow and lip gloss and the girl would be a hundred percent more attractive. She was less sure about the hair. Of course it needed cutting but in what kind of style and how long should—

  “Good. You are here.”

  The words, spoken in a low, male voice, made her insides quiver and her thighs tremble. Still clutching Muffin, Billie turned and saw Jefri walking toward them.

  She glanced back at Tahira. “Your fiancé is coming with us?”

  “Yes. When I told Prince Jefri about our outing, he wanted to join us.”

  Her dark eyes pleaded with Billie. Whether for Billie not to leave her alone with him or for Billie not to be angry, she wasn’t sure.

  Jefri stopped in front of her. “I will accompany you to the boutique.”

  Billie did her best not to notice how good he looked in his tailored suit and how much she wanted to step into his embrace.

  “It’s shopping,” she said, determined to ignore her reaction. “Men hate to shop.”

  “I will make an exception this one time,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Tahira requires a complete new wardrobe, including formal wear. I will speak with the person in charge and make sure you are both well taken care of.”

  Of course he would, she thought as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the palace. He would take charge because that is what he did—instinctively, she would bet. He would spend the day with them, always there so that she would be unable to think or function.

  Tahira trailed after them, obviously unaware of the undercurrents swirling around. When they reached the limo, she went first, stepping in and settling on the side bench rather than the rear one. Billie followed, with Jefri sliding in after her. Which meant the two of them were sitting next to each other.

  “I love your little dog,” Tahira said as the car pulled away from the palace. She leaned forward and patted Muffin. “The cats are nice, too. There are so many.”

  “Billie is not fond of the cats,” Jefri said. “They made her nervous.”

  Tahira looked concerned. “They won’t hurt you,” she said earnestly. “Most of them are very gentle. I like how they purr when I pet them.”

  As the girl spoke, she looked at Billie and Muffin, but never at Jefri. Apparently she hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she was afraid of him. Billie wanted to tell her not to sweat it—that while he might act all high and mighty, Jefri was simply a guy. Okay, a guy with a lot of money and an incredible history, but still, he was human.

  She thought about how they’d argued and laughed and how he’d never seemed to mind that she was the better pilot. If only, she thought, then shook her head. There would be no “if onlys.” Not in this situation.

  The boutique stood on a wide street at the edge of a large bazaar. Tahira gazed longingly at the gaudy silver bangles and lengths of embroidered cloth, but Jefri steered her into the elegant clothing shop. Billie and Muffin followed.

  The store smelled of flowers, spices and money. It was just the sort of place where Billie loved to spend an afternoon and do some serious damage on her credit card. She had a feeling that today was going to be different. With Jefri around, she would need to stay on her toes and not allow herself to slip into the shopping zone.

  The owner waited just inside. Tea and coffee were offered while Jefri explained their purpose. Tahira was to be provided with a new wardrobe. Billie would offer guidance.

  Billie glanced down at her high-heeled sandals, skintight jeans and red leather wrap shirt. Her style leaned toward gaudy and fun. Tahira was destined to be an actual princess. Maybe it would be better to keep her advice-giving to a minimum.

  “You must allow me to thank you for your kindness in this matter,” Jefri said when Tahira had been led away to the dressing rooms.

  Billie set down Muffin. When she straightened, she was careful to keep her distance from Jefri. “No thanks are necessary.”

  She plucked a black lace blouse off a rack and winced when she saw the twelve hundred dollar price tag. Talk about pricey.

  “I want you to pick out whatever you would like,” he said.

  She put the blouse back and drew in a deep breath. “I don’t need your money. I can afford my own clothes.”

  “I know you can. I am trying to…”

  She looked at him. “Yes? Trying to what?”

  He glared at her. “You make a difficult situation impossible.”

  “Me? What did I do?” “You stand there, taunting me.”

  Billie glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t talking to anyone else. “I’m not taunting you.”

  “You tempt me with every breath. And now, when I try to offer something insignificant and make a gesture, you throw it back in my face.”

  What? Were they having separate conversations here?

  “What gesture? The clothes?”

  “Yes. I cannot say how I feel. I cannot offer you gifts, except like this.”

  A dilemma fit for a prince, Billie thought, not sure how to react. “Look, I’m okay with all this.” Not really, but what else could she say? “I don’t need—”

  He touched her arm. The light contact barely grazed her leather shirt, but she felt it down to her bones. The world around them seemed to disappear. There was only the moment and the man and what could have been.

  “Please,” he breathed.

  “It’s just clothes,” she told him.

  “Is it?”

  She didn’t understand the question, but in the end it was easier to simply shrug and say, “If it means that much to you.”

  “It does.”

  The owner returned then. She was a tall, white-haired woman who had the elegant European bone structure.

  “Tahira will begin with casual clothing. Come, child.”

  Tahira appeared in an elegant pantsuit. The tailored jacket emphasized modest curves, while the cut of the pants made her legs look longer.

  “Very nice,” Billie said with a genuine smile. “Do you like it?”

  The girl hesitated, then glanced at Jefri. “What do you think?”

  He nodded.

  Tahira beamed. “Then I like it, too.” She walked back to the dressing room.

  Billie managed to kee
p from rolling her eyes. “She is far too worshipful. You must really like that.”

  He frowned at her. “I do not need my ego stroked by a child.”

  “Too bad, because that’s what you signed up for. Next time you’re ordering a bride, you might want to specify an age range.”

  His eyes narrowed. “There will be no ‘next time.’ Requesting an arranged marriage was madness.”

  Too bad he’d figured that out too late, she thought glumly.

  “She’s a baby,” she reminded him. “You can’t hurt her.”

  “So now you take her side?”

  “Someone has to. I mean it, Jefri. You are her entire world.”

  He stared into her eyes. “That is not what I wanted.”

  “It’s what you got and now you’re stuck.”

  As was she. She glanced around on the pretense of looking for Muffin. “I need to go find my dog,” she said and hurried away.

  She wouldn’t care, she told herself. Not about him. Not about what could have been. There was no future here. When the contract was up, she would get in her plane and fly away without once looking back. There was no alternative.

  The morning crawled by. Jefri had not considered the torture of being confined with Billie in the small area of the shop and having to pretend she didn’t matter. He couldn’t touch her or have her close to him. He had to keep his attention on Tahira, enduring her overeager smiles and attempts to please him. The girl had no opinions of her own, no thoughts, save his. He supposed he should have enjoyed that, but he did not.

  Billie kept carefully out of reach, as elusive as a beam of light. She disappeared on the pretext of looking for a certain dress, or getting another size for Tahira, or finding her dog. As Muffin had curled up on a cushion on the floor and gone to sleep, the latter excuse was the most feeble, but a part of him understood why she felt the need to pretend.

  Tahira appeared in a light green dress that skimmed her knees. The silky fabric clung to her body. In her own youthful way, she was attractive, he thought, as disconnected from her as if he viewed a sculpture. She was reasonably intelligent and gentle of spirit. Her only sin was to not be the woman who haunted his dreams.