Desert Rogues Part 2

by Susan Mallery

He leaned forward and kissed her. “On my honor, I very much wish you to marry me.”

  “Okay, then,” she said before she shrieked her excitement, wrapped both arms around him and said, “Yes.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rafiq had wondered if he would have second thoughts, but none appeared. Their conversation the next day only reinforced his decision.

  “Do you have to tell your parents?” she asked from the large leather chair in his study at the house. “I don’t think they’ll approve.”

  She looked so charmingly worried that he found it difficult not to cross to her and kiss away the small frown between her eyebrows.

  “You are well educated, articulate, kind and very much in love with their son. Why would they not approve?”

  She sighed. “This isn’t a time for logic. Besides, that argument isn’t going to work with your mother, who, for reasons I can’t explain, already hates me.”

  “She has her own agenda for my future,” he said, remembering his conversation with Carnie. “It has nothing to do with who you are.”

  “A sentiment that isn’t as comforting as one might think. As for your father, I’m your basic commoner. Won’t he have been hoping for minor European royalty at the very least?”

  He smiled. “What do you know of my stepmother?”

  “She’s very pretty and has two daughters.”

  “And before she married my father, she was a poor orphan who dreamed of becoming a nurse.”

  “Really?” Kiley straightened in her chair. “That makes me feel better. You swear she’s nice?”

  “You will like her very much.”

  “I just wish you didn’t have to tell them.”

  “They would notice eventually. Besides, what of your parents? They may not approve.”

  Kiley laughed. “Oh, yeah. Every parent gets totally bummed out to hear his or her daughter is marrying a prince. What a drag.”

  “They may not appreciate me taking you away. Within a couple of years we will have to move to Lucia-Serrat.”

  She nodded. “I know, and I’m okay with that.” She leaned down and petted Fari who had curled up on the chair’s ottoman. “You hear that, sweet face? We’re going to Lucia-Serrat where you get to run around in a palace and be a royal dog. Like a puppy princess.” Kiley glanced at Rafiq. “Speaking of the whole princess thing, any way I can pass on that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just that I’m really happy to marry you and all, but the whole being-in-the-public-eye, I’m-the-princess thing really doesn’t work for me. I could stay in the background. No one would have to know.”

  If he hadn’t been sure before, her question would have reassured him. He couldn’t imagine Carmen or any of the other women he’d been involved with ever wishing not to be named a princess. For them, that was the point.

  “It is part of the deal,” he said. “Does that change your mind?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not my favorite part, but I’ll survive.”

  He believed her and in that moment, he found hope. She was the right woman for him, a woman who led with her heart and gave unconditionally. She would be a good mother to their children.

  He wanted to be sure she would love them as she had been loved. He knew she would never leave them. There was no temptation he could offer that would cause her to leave them behind. As it was, she barely let Fari out of her sight. How much more would she care when she had a baby?

  He glanced at her still-flat stomach. Was she pregnant? Did his child grow there, even now? Time would tell. He doubted the thought had occurred to her and he preferred it that way. Better for them to get much closer to the wedding before she found out she was pregnant. He didn’t want her questioning the timing of his proposal.

  “I will call my parents later this evening,” he said. “I’m sure they will want to fly out and meet you.”

  She curled back up in the chair. “There goes my good mood.”

  “You will like them and they will like you.”

  “Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Then they’re going to want to meet my parents, and even if they don’t, my folks will want to meet them. We’re going to have to have some kind of group parental meeting. Let’s do that here rather than in Sacramento.”

  “A brunch,” he said, appreciating the irony of borrowing his mother’s idea.

  “Oh, that would work. It’s less formal.”

  “We’ll have to make an announcement to the press, as well. That will come from my father’s office, but we must make sure your family knows before they read about it in a magazine.”

  “Good point.”

  “There are other considerations,” he said. “The wedding will have to be a formal state event.”

  She practically writhed in her chair. “Yeah, I guessed that was the case. I saw the British royal family’s weddings on television. It won’t be that big, will it?”

  “No. There will be four or five hundred guests, about half of whom are dignitaries.”

  Kiley wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. The idea of a formal, state wedding made her stomach hurt. She didn’t want to be a princess, a figure-head or anything the least bit official. She wanted to marry Rafiq, stay in this house and have babies.

  But that wasn’t going to be the plan. He wasn’t just some guy she’d fallen for—he was Prince Rafiq of Lucia-Serrat—a fact that had been interesting but not especially important until he’d slid the ring on her finger.

  She glanced down at the sparkling diamond. She could never have imagined her dreams coming true this way. The most she’d allowed herself to fantasize about was his extending their affair. But marriage? How did she ever get so lucky?

  “I haven’t the faintest idea how to plan a royal wedding,” she said.

  “I know. After I tell my parents, I’ll have someone trained in such matters flown out. While the wedding itself will be on the island, we can do the planning from here.”

  Which sounded lovely, but she had a feeling that Rafiq was going to be a typical male. There wouldn’t be so much “we” in the wedding planning as there would be “her.”

  “There are probably a lot of rules we have to follow?” she asked.

  “Some. The ceremony will be in the main church on the island, and the reception is held at the crown prince’s royal residence.”

  “At least I don’t have to go hunting for locations.”

  His expression softened. “Did you have somewhere special in mind?”

  “No.” She hadn’t allowed herself to consider it. Not with him. “I’m okay with tradition as long as someone can tell me what’s expected.”

  “I assure you, the wedding planner will be very clear on that. However, you must be willing to stand up to him. There are traditions, but this is also your wedding. I wish you to make it everything you want it to be. Don’t give in on what’s important. I can’t know your mind unless you speak it, Kiley. Tell me if you’re having trouble getting through to him and I will intervene.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” Dealing with the wedding planner could be her initial princess-in-training test. She intended to pass the first time.

  “We have to talk about your job.”

  Kiley started to protest, then pressed her lips together. “You’re saying it’s not appropriate for your future wife to be your secretary?”

  “Something like that.”

  “But I like working for you.”

  “And I enjoy having you in the office. To be honest, you’re the most efficient assistant I’ve had in a long time. I don’t want to make a change, but your priorities must be elsewhere.”

  He made sense. Once word of their engagement got out, she would be busy with other things. She wasn’t sure what, but no doubt she would find out in time. If nothing else, she would have to learn about Lucia-Serrat. She knew a little of the island by virtue of working for Rafiq, but not enough to represent it as the princess.

  Kiley sti
ll had trouble getting her mind around that concept. A princess? Her? And yet it came with marrying Rafiq.

  While she was on the subject of improbabilities, what about the engagement? As much as she’d fallen in love with him, she’d never dreamed he would return her affection and want to make things permanent. It was as if every dream she’d ever had had come true.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked. “You have the most intriguing smile.”

  “Do I?” Her smile widened. “I was thinking how lucky I am. I love you so much and I was heartbroken at the thought of having to leave.”

  He stood and moved toward her. “And now?”

  She rose. “Now I get to stay forever.”

  He reached for her. She went into his arms with a practiced ease. They had made love so many times in the past few weeks that there was a sense of the familiar. Yet at the same time, everything felt new and delicious.

  Even as he began to kiss her, she felt herself needing him. Her body melted, heated, swelled and readied for his sensual assault.

  When he tilted his head and claimed her with his tongue, she parted instantly. She danced with him, claiming him herself with a nip on his lower lip.

  He chuckled low in his throat, then bent down and pressed his mouth to her neck. She let her head fall back as her stomach clenched and her breasts tightened in anticipation.

  “I want you,” he breathed against her skin.

  “I’m yours.”

  She was. For always.

  As he sucked on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, she unfastened the buttons of his shirt. He nudged her back until she bumped into the desk. Once there, it was a simple matter to straighten, pull off her T-shirt and let him shove down her shorts and panties. She was already barefoot.

  He shrugged out of his shirt while she unfastened her bra. Then she was naked before him. He looked at her body, his gaze lingering on her breasts before dropping to the blond curls below her belly.

  She could see his erection pressing against his slacks and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Knowing he wanted her made her want him more. When he put his hands on her waist, she pushed off the floor and landed on the edge of the desk.

  The wood was cool on her bare skin, but also erotic. But she barely noticed. He bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth as he reached between her legs.

  She parted for him, pulling her thighs as far apart as she could, wanting him to touch her everywhere. His fingers rubbed her swollen flesh, then settled into a steady rhythm designed to make her his slave.

  He rubbed that single point of pleasure with his thumb and pushed two fingers deep inside of her. At the same time, he sucked on her nipple, then licked the tight point and blew on her damp skin.

  So much pleasure, she thought, barely able to form coherent thoughts. She clutched at him, never wanting him to stop, needing him, only him. Tension built, as did the promise of her release. She fumbled with his belt and slacks, desperate to have him inside of her.

  He straightened and quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes. Then he moved between her legs and pushed into her.

  He filled her deeply, moving slowly, letting her stretch to accommodate him. The slow aching gave way to more frantic desire. She needed movement to climax. The deep, thrilling thrusts as he made her his own.

  He obliged her by withdrawing, then slipping in again. More quickly this time. She sank back on the desk and gave herself over to the act of love they shared.

  He clutched her hips to pull her against him. Need grew. She wrapped her legs around him, holding them more closely together. Tension increased.

  She felt her breathing quicken as her body heated. He slipped his hand between them and rubbed that most sensitive place.

  It was too much, she thought as she cried out her pleasure. Her orgasm washed over her, blanking her mind until there was only sensation. She grabbed for him, pulling him in deeper and deeper, taking all of him, riding him until he, too, lost control and they came together in a shuddering climax.

  “I’ve never been to Los Angeles before,” Princess Phoebe said from the back of the limo. She touched her husband’s arm. “Maybe we’ll have time to go to a theme park while we’re here.”

  Rafiq didn’t say anything, but he held in a smile. He doubted his father would ever consider going to a place like that on purpose, but he would deny his wife nothing. They’d been together nearly fifteen years and from all accounts seemed happy.

  Something to consider, he told himself. Perhaps he and Kiley could be like that, as well, growing in respect and affection over the years. Why was love required?

  Prince Nasri patted his wife’s hand. “We’ll see,” he said. “It can be difficult to arrange visits like that on short notice. The park must be closed and—”

  Phoebe leaned close and smiled. “We don’t have to close the park. Trust me. No one here will have any idea who we are. A few bodyguards will be enough.” She turned to Rafiq. “Tell him it’s perfectly safe.”

  Rafiq held up his hands. “That is for my father to decide.”

  She sighed. “How typical. You haven’t seen each other in nearly six months and still you band together to side against me.”

  Her words were serious, but Rafiq saw the sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

  “I’m not willing to make a claim for your safety until I’m sure,” he said.

  “Very sensible,” his father told him. “Speaking of which, who is this girl you want to marry. What do you know about her?”

  “Enough,” Rafiq said, knowing their few moments of rapport would end now.

  Nasri frowned. “There are many well-qualified young women you have yet to meet.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you have a list.”

  “We do. If you’re interested.”

  Phoebe took her husband’s hand and squeezed. “Now don’t get all huffy and regal with Rafiq. I’m sure he’s chosen well.”

  “Yes, but who is she?”

  “Who was I?” Phoebe asked.

  “Someone I adored from the moment I saw you.”

  “A nobody,” she reminded him. “I had no family, no connection to anyone powerful. I hadn’t even gone to college.”

  “That was different,” he said, and lightly kissed her.

  “This is different, too,” she told him. “If Rafiq loves her, then that is enough.”

  The conversation reaffirmed Rafiq’s decision that Kiley should wait to meet his father at the house. Far better for her to be relaxed and for Nasri to voice his concerns out of her earshot. Besides, it didn’t matter what his father said. He and Kiley would be married.

  The prince looked unconvinced. “She is of good character?”

  Rafiq nodded. “Intelligent, caring, loyal and very kind. She will be a good mother to my sons.”

  “And your daughters,” Phoebe said with a sigh. “What is it about you men and your sons? It’s very annoying. Rafiq, I assure you, your father loves his daughters as much as his sons. You need not fear that they’re ignored.”

  “I am relieved,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. With Phoebe there to watch over her children, he had no doubt his father participated in their upbringing.

  But it had been different for him. Prince Nasri had disappeared from his son’s life and had rarely returned. Rafiq could remember months passing without a word. Birthdays and holidays were frequently spent in the company of nannies and tutors. When he’d been old enough to go to boarding school, most of his vacations had been spent there. It wasn’t until he’d turned thirteen that his father had decided it was time for Rafiq to learn about his future duties.

  They drove up the driveway. Phoebe smiled.

  “I love this house. It reminds me a little of Lucia-Serrat, and yet it’s completely different. You have the best of both worlds here.”

  “Is that why my son and heir chooses to stay away for so long?” Nasri asked with a grumble.

  Phoebe shook her head. “Be nice. You prom
ised. Part of the reason your son stays away is you’re an old grouch most of the time. You’re not yet fifty, but you have the temperament of a man close to eighty.” She glanced at Rafiq. “Except when he is with the girls. Then he is happy and carefree. I suppose it’s the responsibility.”

  Arnold, the driver, opened the rear door and she slid out.

  “You will be a big help when you return,” she told Rafiq as she stood on the driveway and smoothed her long, blond hair. “We are both looking forward to that.”

  “As am I,” Rafiq said, speaking the truth. He missed Lucia-Serrat. Now that he would marry Kiley and start a family, he found himself ready to return.

  The front door opened. Kiley stepped out and smiled.

  “Hello,” she said. “It’s lovely to have you here.”

  Rafiq saw the terror in her eyes and knew that she would rather be anywhere but here. Still, he doubted Nasri or Phoebe noticed.

  She’d dressed in a pale-blue dress that fell loosely to her calves. Her makeup was light, her jewelry conservative. She hadn’t discussed her clothing with him, and he was pleased by her choice. She looked exactly right for the occasion. He could also imagine her brushing close and whispering to him that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “You must be Kiley,” Phoebe said, stepping forward and holding out both her hands. “I’m delighted to meet you. At last someone has captured Rafiq’s heart. I’d begun to lose hope.”

  Kiley laughed as the two women hugged. “He sure has dated a lot. I like to think he got it out of his system.”

  “Nasri did the same thing,” Phoebe said in a mock whisper. “I believe it makes him appreciate me more.” She turned to her husband and drew him near. “Here she is. Don’t you adore her right away?”

  Rafiq moved next to Kiley and put his hand on the small of her back. “Kiley, this is my father, Prince Nasri Majin of Lucia-Serrat.”

  Kiley offered a very impressive curtsy. “It is very much an honor to meet you, sir.”

  Rafiq watched as his father looked her over. He wasn’t concerned—family opinion mattered little to him—but he wanted the meeting to go well for Kiley’s sake.