by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
Could he be in love with her and still do the job he'd come to Tamir to do? He had an awful sense that he was going to find out soon.
Nadia and Warren's voices began to fade, and Gage turned up the volume on the miniature speaker he'd positioned above the steering wheel. "Time for lunch," Warren was saying. Gage heard Nadia agree with the doctor. Her sigh had Gage clenching his fists again. She sounded tired. Was it the pressure of leading a double life between the orphanage and her royal responsibilities? He was conceited enough to hope he might be the one keeping her awake at night, but doubted it. There was no reason she should have given him a second thought since returning to the palace.
The infirmary door opened, closed, then silence. They had gone to lunch. Maybe it was time for Gage to do the same. He was reaching for the ignition switch when he heard the infirmary door open again, creaking a little as if it was being pushed slowly and carefully. He pulled his hand back and listened.
There was the sound of footfalls across the floor. Very light. Female, then. Nadia? Gage's sixth sense told him it wasn't. His intuition was confirmed when he heard the phone being dialled and a woman's voice said, "It's Sitra. You wanted to know when she came here again. She's been here all morning, but this is the first chance I've had to call you."
Gage couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but he was sure "she" meant the princess. Sitra had to be Sitra Wahabi, sister of the terrorist, Jalil Salim. Gage sat forward, straining to hear more.
"No, he isn't with her this time," Sitra said. "As they passed me in the corridor, I heard her tell the doctor that he's coming here this afternoon. It seems he's interested in one of the children."
The woman laughed unpleasantly, chilling Gage's blood. Sitra had to be talking about him. Who was she informing of his impending visit? Butrus Dabir? Someone in the Brothers of Darkness? How had they caught on to him?
His mind raced. If Nadia hadn't betrayed him directly, she had probably done so indirectly. Gage's suspicion that Dabir had been having her followed cemented into certainty. It would explain how Dabir had known about their first kiss in time to sabotage Gage's car. Did Dabir know they had made love? Probably not, or Gage doubted if he would still be alive to ask the question. Dabir wasn't a man who would take kindly to being cheated on.
Gage was surprised to feel an unfamiliar flash of sympathy for the man. They didn't have much in common, but Gage knew if any man laid hands on his woman, that man's life wouldn't be worth living.
Sitra was speaking again. He made himself pay attention. "Just don't do anything inside the orphanage. We don't need police swarming around, finding out what else goes on here."
She hung up and then Gage heard her depart, leaving him gripping the wheel in fierce concentration. So he was to be ambushed when he left the orphanage this afternoon. His gut tightened in automatic response as he thought of all the ways they could disarm, then dispose of him. Not that he intended to sell his life cheaply, or at all, if it could be avoided. His veins sang with the adrenaline coursing through him at the prospect.
It was small consolation to be right about the place being used as a front for illicit activities. Given Sitra's connection with the Brothers, they had to be involved. What more-innocent venue could they hide behind than an orphanage? How did Dabir fit in with their activities? Gage decided he had to live long enough to find out.
A cold sweat broke out on his brow as another thought drove through him. Nadia was in there. Somehow he had to get her away before all hell broke loose.
* * *
She was going to see Gage again. Nadia hoped her elation wasn't too obvious, but she felt as excited as a child on the night before a birthday. Ever since he had made love to her at Zabara, her thoughts had been filled with him. How he touched her, how he held her and kissed her, the masculine scent of him that lingered on the yellow robe she had worn that fateful night.
When Nargis found the robe folded under her pillow, Nadia had pretended she had put it there by mistake, earning a curious look from the servant. In truth she had hoped to dream of Gage and the marvellous way he had made her feel.
She had been so preoccupied that she hadn't even started the bust of her father, although the coral marble had been in her studio for several days. Normally she would have been unable to stop herself from making preliminary sketches and staring at the marble until she could see the sculpture in her mind's eye. Then she would have started to chip away at the marble until the shape in her mind was mirrored in the stone.
Instead, she had mooned around her studio, making desultory sketches that were all of one face, one pair of hands, one set of penetrating eyes. Gage Weston's. Thinking his name filled her with anticipation.
"Better eat your lunch before it gets cold," Warren urged, drawing her back to reality.
She looked at her plate. Today Sitra had cooked spinach stew with chicken pieces and rice, one of the children's favorites and usually Nadia's, too. Today she had little appetite. "I'm not very hungry," she confessed. "Sammy will help finish my portion, won't you, Sammy?"
Sammy didn't need a second invitation to help himself to her lunch. Warren jokingly called him a bottomless pit, but Nadia was aware the child had known many days of hunger after his mother died of a heart attack while hanging out washing. His record showed that the boy had been alone in the house for a week, eating whatever he could find and open from the cupboards, before he was brought to the orphanage. There was no sign of his father.
She hoped that Gage really did know someone who could adopt the child. She tried not to play favorites. All the children were worthy of love and attention, but she couldn't help being seduced by Sammy's cheeky charm.
She had a sudden vision of herself, Gage and Sammy as a family, and felt her cheeks grow warm. Nothing of the sort was likely to happen, so she might as well stop fantasizing about it.
"I hope you're not coming down with something," Warren said, giving her what she called his doctor's look.
She mustered a smile. "With the medical care available here, how could I?"
"Nevertheless, you look a little flushed."
"I'm fine, honestly." She would be even better after Gage got here.
Supervising the children's hand washing and helping the other women to settle them for an afternoon nap took enough of her attention that she was able to avoid checking the front gate every few minutes to see if he was approaching.
So successful was she that he was able to come up behind her in the play area, where she was collecting the children's toys, without her being aware he'd arrived.
"Gage, you startled me!" she said, spinning around, her arms full of toys. She was afraid her expression must have given away how glad she was to see him.
If so, he didn't react. "It's good to see you again, Your Highness."
She shot a concerned look around them, but no one was within earshot. Why was he being so formal suddenly? "You mustn't call me that now. To everyone here, I'm plain Addie," she said.
Nadia couldn't be plain if she tried, Gage thought. He assumed that the galabiya she wore belonged to her maid, who was probably standing in for her mistress right now. The white dress, embroidered with dark-blue cornflowers, fell over flowing pants caught at the ankles with more embroidery. In it Nadia looked heartrendingly beautiful. The delicate color of the traditional gown made her dark eyes shine like stars, and set off her high cheekbones and full lips so that he ached to kiss her right here and now, and to blazes with what anybody thought.
It took almost more willpower than he possessed not to take her in his arms, but he dared not. Not if his plan to get her away safely was to have any chance of success. If she had the slightest notion of the danger facing him, he was sure she would refuse to budge. That left him only one option. Somehow he had to convince her that she had been no more than a memorable one-night stand to him.
"Very well, Addie, then," he said, keeping his tone cool. "You must get quite a kick out of slumming here, pretending to be a
n ordinary person."
Her shocked gaze shot to his face and her arms tightened around the toys. "I beg your pardon?"
His gesture took in the humble surroundings. "You have to admit, this place is a long way from the royal palace. It must be a novelty for you to spend a few hours here, knowing you have all that luxury waiting for you back home."
She drew herself up, looking every inch a royal princess, although the hurt and puzzlement in her expression was heart-wrenching. "It is a contrast certainly. That's why I come, to remind myself that there are many people in the world less fortunate than I, and to do what little I can to redress the balance," she said.
He nodded. "The rich can afford to be charitable."
She frowned. "This isn't charity, Gage. It's a choice. I work here because I love the children." She piled the toys into a wooden chest and closed the lid carefully. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."
He retrieved a stuffed camel from beneath a potted palm and handed it to her. "Why me, of all people?"
"Because you and I...because we..." Color suffused her face and she stumbled over the obvious explanation—that she had allowed him to get closer to her than any other person.
"All we did was have sex. It doesn't have to signify anything," he said, keeping his tone neutral, although he longed to tell her that she had made far more impact on him than he could possibly have made on her.
"What are you trying to tell me, Gage?" she asked as calmly as if he hadn't just wounded her to her core.
He took her arm and stepped into the shade, towing her with him so they were both shadowed by the wall of the building. Hugging the toy camel, she looked so young and vulnerable that he almost betrayed himself by giving in to the urge to kiss her. He released her arm. If he kept hold of her, he would kiss her, and he wasn't at all sure he'd be able to stop.
"After that night, I realized that you might read more into it than I wanted you to. Women do that, I know."
Her face remained impassive, her voice cold. "Do they?"
"It's different for men. With us, sex doesn't have to be about love. More often, it's merely an expression of physical desire, without any strings attached."
"Go on," she said levelly.
"I don't expect you to understand."
"Oh, but I do," she said, all chill regal fury and splendor now. "You decided it would be—what did you call it?—a novelty to sleep with a princess. Something to boast about to your men friends when you return to England. You hadn't expected to be my first, and now your conscience is troubling you, so you've come to apologize."
He raked a hand through his hair, torn between being relieved that she had swallowed his lie and wishing desperately that it hadn't been necessary. "Something like that," he agreed, feeling as low as he'd ever felt in his life. Only the awareness of what awaited him outside the gates of the orphanage prevented him from telling her the truth.
"Then you've wasted your time. No apology is necessary. I am a grown woman and I knew what I was doing. Has it occurred to you that I might also have found the experience a novelty?"
He hadn't expected that. "I hadn't considered such a thing," he admitted frankly, aware of a stab of discomfort. Hurt pride? Their situation didn't entitle him to it, he thought as he pushed the feeling away.
"Perhaps it's time you did. I am to be married within a few weeks. One night with you was a last fling for me, as you say, with no strings attached. You can return to your own country with a clear conscience, knowing that both of us got what we wanted from the experience."
He was fairly sure she was lying to save face and decided he owed it to her to go along. "No hard feelings on either side?"
"None at all."
He couldn't help himself. "All the same, I am sorry, Prin.. .Addie."
Abruptly she thrust the toy camel into his hands. "I hadn't realized the time. It's late and I must be getting home. If you want to discuss an adoption, you'll have to do it with Warren. Goodbye, Gage."
The toy was still warm from her hands and he found himself caressing it as he watched her walk swiftly to her car, which was parked to one side of the courtyard. The faintest hint of her perfume lingered in the synthetic fur and he inhaled deeply. Be careful what you wish for, he thought. He had wanted to send her away as fast as possible, and he had done so. He had also made her hate him.
He tried to tell himself he was relieved when she drove out of the gates at a less-than-moderate speed. All he felt was an aching emptiness at seeing the joy in her face turn to misery in the space of a few minutes, knowing he was the cause.
"Nice work, Weston," he said to himself. What came next? Taking candy from babies? He carried the camel to the chest and placed it among the other toys, feeling as if he closed the lid not only on the contents, but on something good in his life that he might never find again.
He had moved his godfather's car so it was parked well away from the orphanage gates, where it couldn't be missed if someone came looking for him, but where he could be sure the children weren't in any danger. Now he braced himself to walk back to the car, knowing that there was very little chance he would reach it before Sitra's friends intervened.
He almost welcomed the prospect of some action to burn off the distaste he felt at the way he'd been forced to treat Nadia. They were responsible—Dabir, the Brothers of Darkness, all the forces of evil that contaminated everything that was good in life. They were responsible for the death of his friend, Conrad, and for making Gage put the despair on Nadia's face. He looked forward to evening the score.
Chapter 16
She did not care. She did not care. She did not care. Nadia repeated the mantra to herself as she drove away from the orphanage. She considered herself a modern woman. That meant she could enjoy Gage Weston's lovemaking without requiring a happy-ever-after, couldn't she? He obviously could.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. No love, no strings, he had said. Well, what had she expected? A marriage proposal? A declaration of undying devotion? In her experience, living happily ever after only happened in fairy tales.
She still intended to ask her father to release her from her engagement to Butrus. Gage had left her one legacy. He had shown her that she couldn't commit to a loveless marriage. The sheik would be furious, and she regretted the hurt she knew she must cause him. Butrus would be even angrier, but if he was involved in shady dealings, as she suspected, it served him right. For herself, she would rather endure the storm of their wrath for a time, even if it meant spending her future alone, with only her art for company.
Her thoughts were so busy that she almost drove past the field where she had left Tahani and Mahir, her driver. She looked around at the empty landscape. Surely this was the right place. In her confusion, she could have been mistaken.
Adjusting Tahani's scarf over her head, she put on her dark glasses and got out of the car, walking across the field in bewilderment. Her foot kicked a small object, and she stooped to pick up a tube of bright red paint, which she studied for a moment before slipping it inside her galabiya. This was the right place, but why would Tahani have left before they could change places again?
Her heart almost stopped. Something must have happened to her father or mother and the palace had sent someone to find her, taking Tahani back to the palace in her place. Her parents were visiting the island of Jawhar, inspecting a new oil field. There could have been an accident. Nadia stumbled back to the car. She had to return home quickly.
But there was no sign of a problem at the palace. Removing the scarf and glasses, she was recognized at once, although the guard looked bemused to see her behind the wheel and unescorted. She didn't feel inclined to explain. "Where is Mahir?"
"Mr. Dabir sent a car to fetch you. I saw it return a short time ago with Mahir and.. .and you, I thought, Your Highness."
"Obviously it wasn't me," she snapped, her nerves stretched to breaking point at hearing that Butrus was behind this. "Can you not tell the difference b
etween me and Tahani?"
The man turned beet red. "Of course, Your Highness." But he had been fooled, she saw, although she took little satisfaction in the knowledge. Nadia had used her trick once too often, and today she was to pay the price.
"Is everything all right with my mother and father?" she asked.
"Certainly, Your Highness. Before I came on duty, I saw a news broadcast that showed that your father's inspection of the oil fields on Jawhar is going well."
Her apprehension grew. If nothing was amiss, why had Butrus had Tahani brought back to the palace? Their deception must have been discovered. Nadia's heart was beating double time as she gave her car into the care of a servant and made her way to her apartment.
"How good of you to pay us a visit," Butrus drawled as she let herself in past a saluting guard.
He was seated at the desk in her living room, his fingers drumming on the leather surface. On the sofa sat a white-faced Tahani, visibly trembling.
Nadia ignored Butrus and went to the attendant. "Are you all right?"
Tahani nodded, biting her lip to hold back tears. "Mr. Dabir sent a car for you, and they insisted I return at once. I wanted to wait for you."
Nadia took her friend's hand. It felt icy in hers. "It's all right. You did the right thing." The only thing, if Butrus's implacable expression was any guide.
Tahani brightened a little. "Thank you, Princess."
"You can go now. Please fetch cool drinks for me and Mr. Dabir."
With alacrity, Tahani jumped up from the sofa, giving Butrus a wide berth, Nadia noticed, as she headed for the door. The princess waited until the door closed behind Tahani, then turned her attention to her fiance. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"
He folded his arms and glared at her. "I thought you could tell me. Quite the adventuress, aren't you, little one?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
His dark brows arched. "No? Then why was your servant disguised as you, painting at your easel, while her mistress was nowhere to be found?"