The Sheikh's Bride Bet

by Holly Rayner

  That was it, really. She was looking forward to her vacation—the first real one she’d had since she took over the restaurant three years ago—but more than that, she wanted to spend time with Raffaele. With every text they exchanged, Maggie felt like she was getting to know him, and she wanted to see what that felt like in person.

  A couple of days before she left, Anna found Maggie standing in the kitchen after everyone had gone home for the night.

  “Maggie, what are you still doing here?”

  “Just making sure I haven’t forgotten anything. I’m going over the final list with Joshua tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss anything.”

  “They’ve got it, baby girl. I promise, things will be just fine while you’re gone.”

  “I know, really, I do.” Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I’ve just never taken this much time away from the restaurant.”

  “It’s about time you took a vacation. You work too hard.”

  Maggie looked at her wryly. “Have you been talking to my mother?”

  “It’s possible we’ve conversed.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes.

  “You know what the business is like, Anna. If we have one bad week, it could throw everything off. I’ve got a responsibility to all these people, to make sure we don’t fail.”

  Anna wrapped her arm around Maggie’s petite frame.

  “And that is why these people work for you. They know how hard you work so that they will all have jobs. You are just as much family to them as you are to your parents.”

  Maggie nodded. She knew that.

  “Keep an eye on Elise, will you?” she asked Anna.

  “You worried about her?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I think she’s ready to take on the pastry chef spot. With Julia leaving in a few weeks, we need someone new there, and I’d rather promote from within. See how she does while I’m gone, okay?”

  “Of course, chef.” Anna hugged her one more time and then let go. “Now, are you all packed?”

  Maggie threw up her hands. “I have no idea what to wear on vacation when I’m staying in a royal palace!”

  “I’ll take that as a no. Why don’t you go shopping tomorrow and get a few new things?”

  Maggie tilted her head. “That’s probably a good idea. I don’t want to show up in jeans and a T-shirt when I meet Raffaele’s parents.”

  Anna studied Maggie and realization dawned on her face. “You’re smitten!” she said joyfully. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Maggie protested, “I’m not smitten, I’m…”

  “Oh, honey, you are definitely smitten. And given what I saw of Prince Charming, I’d say for good reason. That man could make a nun blush.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Okay, he’s definitely good looking. And funny. And good company.”

  Anna nodded along as Maggie listed off Raffaele’s virtues.

  “And he likes you,” she added.

  Maggie shrugged. “We get along well.”

  Anna raised her eyebrows and Maggie got a little defensive.

  “Nothing’s going to happen, Anna. He appreciates good food, and we clicked. But he’s a prince. It will be a fun week, that’s all.”

  Anna patted her knee and smiled knowingly. “You keep telling yourself that, baby girl.”

  Chapter 7

  Raffaele

  Raffaele smiled as he read another message from Maggie. Even by text, he could tell that she was excited about her upcoming visit. He was working at his desk, going through correspondence from acquaintances, invitations for parties and receptions, and requests for charitable donations, but he made time to chat with Maggie.

  He was excited about her visit as well. Raffaele had been planning things for her to see, places for them to eat. He wanted to show her the very best of Spiaggi, and all of his favorite places.

  He sent her a quick note:

  I’ve taken the liberty of making reservations at a few places where you should dine while you’re here.

  Her text back made him chuckle:

  Thank you. I can’t wait to have other people cook for me!

  Raffaele sent:

  I’ll make sure you have plenty of meals where you don’t have to lift a finger.

  He followed that with another text that said:

  I don’t want to monopolize your time here. Please tell me if I’m planning too much.

  Maggie replied quickly:

  You’re not. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I wouldn’t even know where to start putting together a list of all the things I should see and do.

  Raffaele smiled and sent back:

  I’m looking forward to adding ‘tour guide’ to my resume.

  He got back a smiley face; checking the time, he assumed she was just starting her prep for dinner service that night, so he decided to leave her to it and set his phone down on his desk.

  Raffaele shuffled through the donation requests and found a card from the director of a new organization that connected school children with nutritious food. He’d met the director recently and was impressed with the nonprofit and their mission. Raffaele reached for his checkbook; worthy causes needed funds, and he was more than happy to provide them.

  Raffaele looked up as he heard a knock on his door and called, “Come in.”

  The door opened to show his cousin, Alexander. Alex was his uncle’s younger son, and he was happy that his older brother stood to inherit the throne before he did.

  Raffaele understood that feeling. He was happy to support his family and serve his country, but just as happy he wasn’t likely to rule it. It gave him a measure of freedom that his cousins didn’t have.

  Even though Alex was a few years older than Raffaele, the two had been close as teenagers and in their twenties. They often traveled together, which meant that they were usually getting into some kind of trouble together. Never anything terrible, certainly nothing criminal, but they did get their fair share of attention.

  Alex took a look at the pile of papers on Raffaele’s desk, including his open checkbook.

  “It was so much easier when we could just give alms to the poor on the way out of church, wasn’t it?” Alex mused.

  Raffaele rolled his eyes at his cousin’s tone. “I think a check is a more elegant way to support those in need.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “You know, a wife could handle all that for you.”

  “I don’t want anyone to handle it for me. I like doing this.” He signed the check and placed it in a folder with a quick note to his secretary, who would see it delivered. “And I don’t need a wife.”

  “I’m fairly certain your parents would disagree with you on that point.”

  Alex made himself comfortable in one of Raffaele’s chairs.

  Raffaele sighed. “Mother hinted at that again last night.”

  “What did you say?”

  Raffaele suddenly thought of Maggie, which surprised him. He shook his head at his cousin.

  “I told her I would marry when I find the right woman.”

  “It’s a small country, Raffa. There aren’t that many women to choose from.” Alex gave him a sly look. “Unless you’re thinking of an alliance outside the country…that heiress from Switzerland, maybe?”

  “No. There will be no alliance.” Raffaele gave his cousin a sharp look. “I’ll leave that to you.”

  Alex wadded up a piece of paper on Raffaele’s desk before throwing it at him.

  “Thanks. Just for that, I’m not inviting you to my next party.”

  “I’ll manage.” Raffaele turned in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “I can’t just drop by for a visit?”

  “You can, but you usually don’t. What nefarious plot are you hatching now?”

  Alex grinned mischievously and raised his eyebrows. “Want to fly to Paris?”

  Raffaele knew he was going to regret asking, “Why?”

  “There’s a party.” Ale
x shook his head like he was disappointed in his cousin. “Why else?”

  Raffaele shook his head. “Not this time. Too much to do before my own party.”

  “Ah, yes. With your American chef. It sounds like you’re planning quite the sophisticated affair.”

  Raffaele checked the time again. “I am, and as such, I have to stop by the kitchen and check on preparations.” He stood up. “Want to come with me?”

  Alex shook his head and stood as well. “Are your parents pleased? With your party?”

  “They are.” Raffaele shrugged. “Actually, I’m fairly certain Father’s reaction was more along the lines of ‘it’s about time.’”

  Alex stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder.

  “Good. At least one of us should be something other than a thorn in our parents’ sides. Have fun with the planning, Raffa. I’ll see you at the party.”

  Raffaele left his cousin at the stairs, heading in the other direction.

  “Good afternoon, Your Highness,” the royal chef greeted him as Raffaele walked into the giant kitchen.

  “Good afternoon, Luis,” Raffaele responded brightly.

  “Are you looking forward to your birthday celebration?”

  “I am.” Raffaele clapped his hands together. “And that, my dear man, is why I am here. Chef Bechet will be arriving soon, and I want to make sure everything is prepared for her.”

  The chef nodded. “We’ve exchanged emails, and I have most of her requested ingredients here.”

  “Good,” Raffaele said. “May I take a look at what you have?”

  Luis inclined his head. “Of course, sir.”

  He directed Raffaele to a pantry stocked with large quantities of root vegetables, jars, boxes, and sacks filled with onions and garlic.

  As the Prince looked things over, the chef commented, “Other items will be delivered the morning of the party, and Chef Bechet expressed an interest in doing some shopping for local ingredients at the market in town if there’s time.”

  “Of course she did!” Raffaele nodded enthusiastically. “I will escort her myself.”

  The other man nodded. “She mentioned that you planned to finalize the menu on the trip here. I’ve already arranged to have the whole kitchen and serving staff on hand following her arrival, so that we can go over final details.”

  “Excellent. Luis, I know you have everything under control and will show Chef Bechet the best of Spiaggian hospitality.”

  The chef nodded again, and started to speak, but just at that moment, Raffaele’s father appeared. The chef bowed respectfully to Prince Roberto and stepped away when the older man nodded at him once.

  Raffaele’s father was a distinguished man in his late fifties, with only a hint of grey at his temples. Raffaele hoped he aged as well.

  “Come to take a peek at the party preparations?” Raffaele asked. “I think you’ll be pleased with what Chef Bechet is planning.”

  “Actually, I came to discuss something important with you.”

  Raffaele’s first instinct was concern for his mother or older sister, but although his father’s expression was serious, it was not worried.

  Mindful of the bustling kitchen around them, he asked, “Would you like to talk in your office?”

  Roberto shook his head. “Let’s just step outside.”

  The Prince followed his father out onto one of his home’s many terraces. He stood next to his father, looking out to the blue water just beyond the grounds. Raffaele was quiet, waiting for his father to speak.

  “Raffaele, you know that all the men in our family are required to participate in military service before the end of their thirtieth year.”

  “Of course, Father.”

  Roberto gave him a serious look. “You’re turning thirty.”

  Raffaele understood. He probably should have been expecting this conversation, but he’d been distracted with planning his birthday celebration. Though, to be honest, he mostly been distracted by the fact that he’d be able to see his favorite chef again soon.

  He gave his father a reassuring smile.

  “Yes, I understand, and I plan to complete my service later this year, after a few things I have planned. Speaking of which, I can’t wait to introduce you to Chef Bechet.”

  Roberto shook his head. “I know that this party is important to you, but I need you to be ready to complete your service. This requirement is not one to take lightly.”

  “Father, I understand. And I look forward to serving, just as you and my uncles and cousins have.”

  He’d talked to Alex some about his time in the military. His cousin had spent the two years of his service on a base in Spiaggi, mostly doing training, as Raffaele recalled.

  His father sighed. “I don’t think you do understand. I know you aren’t interested in our country’s involvement with the rest of the world, but you may be surprised at how soon you will be needed.”

  Raffaele stopped short from his rote reply. This was not the direction he’d expected this conversation to take. His father generally reproached him gently about his disinterest in Spiaggi’s politics, and though he made no disguise of his desire for Raffaele to get more involved in the political world, this was the first time his father had mentioned a specific need for Raffaele’s attention.

  Roberto gave him a serious look.

  “There is a small chance that Spiaggi’s help will be requested as a partner in an ongoing peacekeeping mission in the Middle East. If that happens, you will need to serve. Your presence will reinforce that this mission is critical to our national security.”

  “Of course, Father. But if there’s only a small chance, then it’s not something I need to worry about right now.”

  “Raffaele, I know you’re expecting an assignment here in Spiaggi, something like what your cousins did. But you may be called on to complete your service outside of the country, possibly at a joint base, with our partners.”

  “And I look forward to that opportunity, if it happens that way.” Raffaele gave his father his most confident look. “Thank you, Father, for talking with me.”

  Roberto let him go, and Raffaele didn’t see his father’s look of concern as he walked back inside.

  Chapter 8

  Maggie

  Maggie had half-expected to still be throwing things into her suitcase five minutes after it was time to go, but instead she found herself so excited by the prospect of this trip that she was packed long before she went to sleep the night before.

  And then she’d unpacked in the morning, prompting a last-minute panicked call to Anna about what she was taking.

  The kitchen stuff was easy. There were things chefs didn’t travel without, and a few things Maggie wanted to take with her.

  But the clothes were harder. Maggie was so used to wearing jeans and T-shirts at the restaurant because she always wore a chef’s jacket over it when she was cooking or out talking to guests. She did have nice clothes, but she wanted to step it up a bit.

  Maggie had found time to go shopping, but now, she was questioning all of her choices. She stood in the middle of her living room, suitcase open on the floor, and clothes laid out on the couch and chairs as she went through outfits. When Anna knocked on her front door, she opened it and flung her arms around the older woman.

  “Help me,” she pleaded.

  Anna laughed and untangled herself from Maggie. “Let’s see what you’ve got, baby girl.”

  Anna went through Maggie’s wardrobe with a critical eye and her impeccable fashion sense. She held up a short black dress with a full skirt.

  “Remember when we went shopping for your prom dress?” She grinned at the memory.

  Maggie laughed.

  “Poor Mom. I couldn’t find anything I liked or anything that fit right. She was at her wits’ end and I was in tears. So, she called you.” Maggie shook her head. “I remember you going through the racks at the dress shop and pulling out three perfect dresses in no time.”

  She looked a
round at the clothes strewn across the living room.

  “I should have taken you shopping with me this time.”

  Anna handed Maggie the black dress.

  “Wear this one when you go out to dinner.” She looked around at the other clothes. “You did fine with your shopping.”

  Anna handed Maggie another dress, this one long, flowy, and dark green.

  “Wear this for dinner with his family.”

  “I don’t know that I’ll have dinner with his family,” Maggie said, but dutifully folded the dress and placed it carefully in her suitcase.

  “You will.”

  Anna sounded certain, and Maggie had to admit she was probably right. Raffaele had mentioned her meeting his family.

  It only took Anna half an hour to get Maggie packed again, and feeling more confident about what she was wearing on her trip. She’d even taken notes of what outfits to wear when, making Anna smile at her diligence.

  Anna hugged her tightly as she left. “Have fun, Maggie.”

  “Thank you, Anna. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  With Anna gone, Maggie finished up a few chores and stacked all her luggage by the front door.

  When the knock sounded at her door, she was ready to go. She opened the door to find a driver with a sleek black town car behind him on the street. The driver helped Maggie carry her luggage to the car, waving her off when she apologized for having so many things. Once the car was loaded, Maggie slid into the backseat and sunk down into the plush, comfortable leather.

  It didn’t take long to drive to a small private airport just outside the city, and when they arrived, the driver took the car straight out to where the plane waited. Maggie stared out the window at a gorgeous jet painted with Spiaggi’s flag. She hadn’t been sure how big the plane would be, but from the outside, it looked like something fit for royalty.

  Maggie recognized Raffaele’s figure waving at her from the doorway of the plane and she smiled. He bounded down the plane’s steps to meet her car.