by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
"Hey, guys," Elena called out when they were near enough. And Cade watched with a pang of envy as she came with the ease of certainty to kiss her husband, while his own wife hesitated and hung back, unsure what she should do. "Catching up on the latest gossip?" Elena teased, an arm around her husband's waist.
Cade squinted at her and shook his head, while Hassan said loftily, "Men do not gossip."
"Right." Elena laughed. "No, I mean, from Tamir. Hey, what did you guys think about Nadia?"
"Nadia?" Leila was alert and tense. "What about my sister? I spoke to her only last week. Is she all right?"
"She's getting married," said Elena. "Can you believe it? The fourth wedding in the Kamal family this year." She nudged Hassan. "I guess that just leaves Samira, huh?" Then she looked with concern at Leila, who had her fingertips pressed to her mouth and a stricken look on her face. "What, aren't you happy about it?"
Leila cleared her throat and said faintly, "Then.. .she will marry Butrus after all?" Elena nodded, and Hassan said gruffly, "With our father's blessing."
"But," said Leila, "she does not love him. She told me so." Her cheeks were pink, and Cade could see that, at her sides, her hands were clenched into fists. "She cannot do this—she must not. Oh, if only I could talk to her!" Her voice was tight with distress.
"Why don't you?" Elena asked, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"I have. But on the phone it is not—"
"No, I mean, go to Tamir." Elena looked at Cade.
A great stillness seemed to fold itself around him. Leila seemed not to be breathing. He looked at her and she averted her face quickly, but not quickly enough. Even with her sunglasses she couldn't hide the light of hope, a flash of joy so keen and pure, he was sure he'd felt it pierce his heart.
"Sure, why not?" Elena went on, enthusiastic.. .oblivious. "Go for a visit. It's not like you can't afford to send her, Cade. Leila should be with her sister at a time like this."
Cade cleared his throat. His heart lay in his stomach like a dead weight—and how well he remembered that feeling. "What about it?" he asked Leila, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "Would you like to go to Tamir? Visit your folks?"
She lifted her head and looked at him a long, suspenseful time, while he stared at his own reflection in her glasses and wished with all his heart that he could see her eyes. Except for the briefest tremble in her mouth, then a tightening, her face was utterly still. For the first time in his memory, he couldn't read her emotions there.
Then she drew a lifting breath and smiled. "Yes—oh, yes," she said softly. "I would like it very much."
"Well, there you go," said Elena with a shrug. And she and Hassan exchanged a secret look.
"Well, okay," Cade said, squinting as he met the radiance of his wife's smile, "I guess you're going to Tamir. How soon do you want to leave?"
"Is...tomorrow too soon?" Oddly she sounded as if she was one good breath away from bursting into tears.
"Tomorrow it is." And on a hot and sunny May day in Texas, Cade felt cold clear through.
That evening, Cade went into the bedroom where Leila was packing her suitcases. "All set," he said on an exhalation. "Plane leaves here at two. You're gonna have a little bit of a stopover in Atlanta, but not too bad. You're nonstop to Athens.. .arrive there Monday morning, local time. Then it's just a short hop from there to Tamir."
"Thank you." Her voice sounded muffled as she watched her hands.. .watched them methodically smoothing filmy cloth. Her hair had fallen over her shoulder, hiding her face from him. He resisted the urge to pull it out of the way.
"Need any help?"
"Thank you, but no. I am nearly finished." She straightened and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, though she still didn't look at him. A frown pleated her forehead. "I do not think I will need to take much with me...so many of my clothes are still in Tamir."
Maybe he should have found reassurance in that. Instead, he felt a sudden surge of anger that was mysteriously mixed with grief. Childishly, he wanted to shout at her. What kind of a woman are you? How can you go away and leave me like this? Selfishly, he wanted to plead with her. Please don't go. Forget your sister—I need you!
* * *
What he couldn't understand was why. It had been his idea to send her back to Tamir from the first. So why this gnawing fear that, once she was there with her own family, she wasn't ever going to come back to Texas?
She was trying to fold over the top of the suitcase to zip it closed. "Here—let me get that," he said roughly, needing some activity, an outlet for his emotions. And reaching heedlessly across her, brushed her breast with his arm.
He went absolutely, deathly still. Except for the lifting of each breath, so did she. Then, slowly, slowly, he turned toward her. She turned, too, and tipped back her head to look at him. It went on so long, that look, and in such tension and stillness.. .it reminded him of something.
Then it came to him—that evening on the terrace. And the memory was so vivid, so immediate, it seemed to him he could hear the pounding of the surf on the rocks below the cliff.. .until he realized it was only the beating of his own heart. He remembered the way she'd looked at him so intently, and what she'd said to him next....
"Do you want to kiss me?"
He didn't know he'd said it aloud until he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes, and heard her say in a small, tentative voice, in a much more delightful French accent than his had ever been, "Kees you? Oh, oui, Monsieur..."
He didn't even realize, then, the significance of that moment, that mutual, instant understanding, the acknowledgment of a history of shared intimacy, the first of countless moments like it that would form a bond to last a lifetime. He only knew that he was terrified. My God, he thought as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, I can't let her go! I love her.
How can I leave him? Leila thought as she opened herself to her husband's embrace. I love him so.. .If only, she thought, he would ask me to stay.. .tell me not to go. Then I would know he loves me...
But he didn't say anything at all, though his kiss was so deep and poignant it made her ache in every part of her being, and it would have been easy to believe he meant it as love. Leila was not so naive.
No, Elena was right. She must go to Tamir. If her husband loved her, he would come for her and bring her home. And if he does not?Her heart trembled, then plummeted inside her, and she clung to him in desperate, unreasoning fear. He must come for me. He must.
But how to ensure that, and yet preserve her pride? Trying without words to let him know the love and longing that was inside her, she gave him her body with a kind of desperate tenderness, worshipped his with such unreserved devotion.. .and hoped that he would somehow hear and know what was in her heart.
Dazed by the intensity of her lovemaking, shaken by the intensity of his feelings for her, Cade buried his face in the fragrant fall of his wife's hair. For the last time? He held her closer and shuddered with fear.
* * *
On Monday afternoon, Cade called Elena from his office in Houston. "Well," he said, "I hope you're satisfied."
She responded with a little trill of laughter. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"Leila's gone," he said morosely. "She called a little while ago to tell me she made it home okay. Sounded happy to be back with her folks." He paused, took a deep breath and tried to make it sound as if he didn't care. "I don't think she wants to come back... any time soon." He added the last part only to keep from sounding too melodramatic.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, Cade." She made an exasperated sound. And after a pause, "What do you intend to do about it?"
He snorted right back at her. "What can I do? I sure as hell can't seem to make her happy here."
"Oh, for—that is just so like a man!" There was a pause, and then, bluntly, "Cade, do you love her?" And before he could answer, "Don't you know, it doesn't take any more than that to make a woman happy? If she loves you..."
There was another, longer pause, while he swallowed hard a couple of times. Then Elena's voice came softly. "You can't stay closed off from your emotions forever, Cade."
He righted his chair with an angry thump. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Come on—you've been shut down ever since your mom died—and.. .what my father did to you."
"That's ridiculous. I have emotions."
"I'll bet you do. But you sure don't like to show 'em."
"How does that make me different from almost any other man you know?"
"It doesn't," she admitted, "but most men trust somebody enough to let their feelings show. I know Hassan trusts me. Do you think because of what happened with your mom and my father, that you're afraid—"
"Cut the crap, Elena. That's just psychobabble bull—"
"Cade, can I ask you something?" Her voice was different, now. Hesitant.. .almost fearful. He waited, half-resentful, saying nothing, and after a moment she came out with it. "Do you think.. .has it ever crossed your mind, since all this has come out about my father.. .Rahman.. .about him killing my mother, and.. .all that.. .that he might have been the one responsible for your mom's accident?"
He couldn't answer, just stared at the Houston haze through his office window. His pulse tapped nervously at his belt buckle.
"It must have occurred to you, Cade. You were supposed to be in that car, too, remember? If you hadn't talked your mom into dropping you at your friend David's house on the way home..."
"What do you want me to say," he said harshly. "What's the point? The man's dead. Can't very well kill him twice."
"No," said Elena quietly, "but you can sure as hell kill your marriage if you don't find a way to come to terms with this. You have to find a way to trust, Cade. Trust yourself to love. Trust somebody to love you and not let you down."
"Psychobabble crap," Cade muttered.
"Maybe it is." He heard tears in her voice. "Maybe I just want everybody to be as happy as I am." And damned if she didn't hang up on him.
* * *
That evening, Cade was in the stable checking out a new foal with Rueben when Betsy came down with
the bottle she'd prepared. She handed it to her husband, then stood back, planted her hands on her hips and
glared at Cade.
"Okay," she said, "when are you leaving?"
"What?" He had his arms full of a balky colt just then, and couldn't look at her. "Leaving for where?" "Tamir—whatever the name of that place is. When are you gonna go get Leila and bring her back?" Cade snorted. After his conversation with Elena, he was feeling about as cooperative as that foal. "I guess
she'll come back when she's ready."
"Uh-uh," said Betsy, "you got to go get her." She glared at him and folded her arms across the shelf of her
bosom. "How else is she gonna know you want her to come back? You ever tell her?" She gave a snort of
monumental exasperation. "I bet you never even told her you love her, did you?"
He let go of the foal, who was finally beginning to get the idea there was something good for him in that rubber nipple. "She never told me that."
Betsy threw up her arms. "She's a woman. You expect her to tell you first?" Cade didn't say anything. He looked over at the foal, who was nursing greedily, now. "I packed your suitcase already," Betsy said.
Cade looked at Rueben, who lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I think you better go get your wife," was all he said.
* * *
Alima was having breakfast with Leila on the east terrace, though she had eaten only a few bits of fruit and some tea. It was difficult to swallow when her throat was aching so.. .when her mother's heart was breaking for her youngest child.
"I do not understand why she will not listen," Leila was saying stormily. "Nadia thinks she knows so much, because she is older, but she does not. She does not know what it is like to be in a marriage without love. She does not know what she is doing!"
"But," Alima gently reminded her, "that must be Nadia's decision, must it not? Your sister must make her own choice." She paused, then placed her hand over Leila's, which was restlessly tearing an orange peel into tiny pieces. "My dearest one, why does it trouble you so much? What is really bothering you? Are you.. .so very unhappy in America?"
Leila's hands jerked, then went still. Then, all in a rush, she raised them to cover her face...and a sob. "Oh, Mummy, I do not know what I should do. I believe Cade is a good man—I do. And I want to be a good wife to him. But I have been so lonely—and I do not understand him at all." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I do not even know whether or not he loves me."
"Leila," her mother began, fighting anger against the man who had made her precious one so unhappy, "you must not give up on your marriage...." A movement caught her eye, drew it across the tiled terrace to where a tall figure stood framed in the arched portal that led to the gardens. A little breeze blew in through the portal, bringing with it the scent of roses.
Alima took in a breath of it.. .and smiled. "My daughter," she said softly, without taking her eyes from that tall figure, "if you truly love your husband, you must never give up on him. Tell me the truth... do you love this man, Cade Gallagher?"
Cade stopped breathing while he waited for her answer. It seemed an age.. .an eternity before Leila slowly drew her hands away from her face, revealing its radiance.. .and desolation.
"Oh, yes.. .I do. I love him. I did not believe it was possible to love someone so much. So much... sometimes... it hurts... inside." She placed her fist over her heart, and he felt himself moving toward her, though he had no sense of his feet touching the ground. "And then I am so frightened.. .and I do not know how I will survive it if I am never to see him—"
Leila felt a hand touch her shoulder, a hand that shook.
"Why would you think you'd never see me again?" said a voice—a voice as ragged and torn as the bits of orange peel on the table in front of her.
She stared at the bits of orange, not moving.. .not breathing. Her mother smiled at her, lifted her eyes and murmured an Arabic blessing, then rose from her chair and quietly left her.
I am a princess... I am a princess... Shaking like a blossom in the rain and clinging to the shards of her pride, Leila drew herself together. "What," she demanded breathlessly, lifting her head but without turning around, "are you doing here?"
Cade's heart gave an odd little quiver...of laughter, of tenderness and pride. Well, hell, she's a princess, he reminded himself. He tightened his hand on her shoulder, and felt his voice grow deeper and even more gruff. "Thought you might have forgotten where you live. Or that there's a lonesome little filly who needs you. Thought I'd better come and bring you home."
"Why?" she asked, hurling her question at him in defiance, like an obstinate child.
Bravely, Leila lifted her chin still higher and looked into his face. Did he hear me? she wondered, quaking inside. Oh, he must have heard me say I love him. She had never felt so vulnerable, not even lying naked in his arms. Oh, please, let him say it to we now. If he does not, I do not know what—
"What do you mean, why?" Fear made Cade's voice harsh. He'd never felt more vulnerable in his life, not even when his mother died. How could he expose himself so? He hadn't the courage....
She's a woman. You expect her to tell you first? And all at once he felt himself relax. His heart grew warm.. .and light filled all his insides.
"Why do you think?" Cade's voice had lost its roughness. It was tender.. .tender as a caress. "Because.. .I love you, Princess." She caught her breath, but he wasn't finished. "I love you!" he said. And again: "I love you!"
Then she saw it. At last, the smile she had carried so long in her memory.. .the smile she had longed for... the smile that lit his face and eyes with purest joy.
And she knew that it was true.
Epilogue
Sheik Ahmed Kamal sat at t
he head table in the Great Courtyard of the Royal Palace of Tamir and beamed upon the assembly that had gathered to celebrate the Walima of his youngest daughter and her husband, Cade Gallagher. Sated with good food and good wine, he felt humble, and richly blessed.
Had any monarch ever had more reason to sing the praises of Allah? First his sons and now a daughter well and happily wed, and soon there would be yet another wedding, this one as satisfactory as he would have wished. His oldest daughter was to marry his closest advisor—what could be more desirable?
Relations with his neighbors the Montebellans were on solid footing at last, and with the addition of oil-rich Texans to the family, Tamir's economic future had never been brighter. And next spring, if things went as he hoped, perhaps there would be more grandchildren to keep Alima happy...and, he must be honest, himself, as well.
Yes...life is indeed good, thought the old sheik.
* * * THE END * * *
Royal Spy
VALERIE PARV
ROMANCING THE CROWN
The royal heir to the kingdom of Montebello is safe. But a traitor lurks in the heart of the neighbouring kingdom of Tamir, waiting to destroy the countries' new alliance!
Meet the major players in this royal mystery...
Princess Nadia Kamal: The eldest Tamiri princess hides her passions behind a veil of gentility. But when a handsome stranger uncovers her secrets, there's nowhere left to hide...
Duke Gage Weston of Penwyck: Playing an everyday average man is second nature to this sought-after spy. But royalty is in his blood - as is a certain standoffish princess!
Dear Reader,
It seems to me that when you're a member of a royal family, life can be complicated. Duty must come before personal choice. Business before pleasure. Finding ways to be together privately can be almost impossible. You only have to look at the royal families of the world to see that a crown and a fortune can't guarantee happiness. This is the double-edged sword I set out to explore in Royal Spy. In the process I found myself examining the drive we all have to choose our destinies. Like Princess Nadia, we want to rule our own lives, although, like her and Gage Weston, we don't mind surrendering provided it's to the rule of love.