by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
"And we'll have a lifetime of lovemaking," she murmured aloud, her heart singing with joy.
If Farid had been her bodyguard three months ago when she'd met Desmond, she probably would have never gotten any opportunity to be alone with Desmond.
But her brother's wedding had taken place in Tamir, and Samira's entire family had attended. There had been royal guards all around, but no personal bodyguards for Samira and her sisters.
Would Desmond be happy to see her? This trip had been an impromptu one and she hadn't told him she'd be arriving tonight. But he must have heard she was coming.
Of course he'll be happy to see you, she told herself firmly. He loves you, he told you so only last week. He'd promised that as soon as he got an opportunity to speak to her father, they would be married.
Her heart quickened once again as she came to the guest house where the guard had told her Desmond lived. Across from the guest house a fountain gurgled, as if proclaiming Samira's future in bubbling glee.
The small house sat just off the sidewalk. Like her guest quarters, it was surrounded by bushes laden with lush pink flowers that scented the balmy night air.
She hesitated a moment on the sidewalk and drew a deep breath to steady herself. At that moment, she heard the soft murmur of voices drifting out from a partially open front window.
He wasn't alone. She didn't want to burst in on him and deliver her exciting news if he wasn't alone. She moved to a position just behind a large, neatly trimmed bush where she could easily peek into the window.
She just wanted to get a glimpse of the man she planned to spend her future with. Just a quick peek at his beloved, handsome face.
She froze as her mind grappled to make sense of the scene before her. Desmond stood directly in her line of vision. He was clad in a pair of dark slacks and a tailored white shirt, and his dark hair glistened in the overhead light.
He definitely was not alone. Locked in his arms was a long-legged, tawny blonde wearing a short red dress that exposed long, shapely legs.
A sister … a cousin… Samira's mind worked for a logical explanation. But, as she saw Desmond's hands move sensually down the woman's back to grab her buttocks, as he lowered his head and took her mouth with his, Samira knew the woman was no sister or cousin. She was obviously Desmond's lover.
His lover.
A sharp pain exploded in her heart, and somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized it as the shattering of hopes and dreams.
He'd told her she was the only woman in his life. Only last week he'd told her how much he loved her, how lonely he was without her. He'd told her he counted the hours until they would be together again. He'd said so many things, so many sweet, wonderful things.
Lies. All lies.
Samira stumbled backward a step and tried desperately to contain the wrenching sob that begged to be released.
She didn't want to see any more, yet couldn't tear her gaze away from the sight of the man whom she'd believed loved her kissing and caressing another woman.
Someplace in the back of her mind, she knew she needed to escape, before Desmond saw her, before she completely humiliated herself. But her feet refused to listen to her brain, and she remained frozen in place as her heart broke into a million pieces.
* * *
From the moment they boarded the private jet, Farid Nasir knew that something was up with Samira. Throughout his years of working for the Kamal family, he'd watched Samira grow from a shy, unimposing young girl into a gentle, caring woman known for her warmth and openness.
But on the plane ride, he'd seen a tension in her that had nothing to do with her dislike for flying. Her dark, long-lashed, almond-shaped eyes had snapped with secrets … and secrets worried Farid.
She'd told her father, Sheik Ahmed, that she was coming to Montebello to visit with Princess Anna, but her exclamation of surprise at learning that Princess Anna was absent from Montebello hadn't rung true.
He now sat in a chair in the corner of the living room, waiting for Samira to finish freshening up and unpacking. It was just after nine, and he'd had to turn on a lamp against the encroaching darkness of night.
Looking at his watch, he frowned. She'd now been in the bedroom for more than twenty minutes, and he'd heard no sound from the room in the past fifteen.
He knew she hadn't gone to bed. The one thing he'd learned in the past two and a half months of being personally assigned as her bodyguard was that Princess Samira liked to stay up late and loved to sleep in during the morning hours.
Again a disquieting unease crept through him. Instinct told him something was wrong, and Farid never ignored his instincts.
He got up from his chair and went to her bedroom door. He hesitated a moment, then knocked. "Princess Samira?"
There was no reply. No sound whatsoever seeped through the wooden door. No light shone from beneath the door, either.
She couldn't be unpacking and freshening up in the darkness, he thought. The unease kicked up a notch, transforming into real concern.
He knocked again and when there was still no answer, he twisted the knob and eased open the door.
The room held a stillness that indicated emptiness. "Princess Samira?" he said softly, then turned on the overhead light.
Immediately he spied the open window with the screen removed. Horror riveted through him. He raced to the window. Had somebody ripped the screen away to kidnap Samira? Was she now being held someplace for ransom? For political purposes? Farid knew as well as anyone that there were terrorist groups that always posed a threat to the members of the royal family.
Fear, icy-cold and sickening, filled him. A fear that turned to rage as he realized the screen could not be removed from the outside, but only from the inside.
That meant Samira herself had removed the screen and disappeared into the encroaching shadows of the night.
Why? The question rang in his head as he raced out of the house. He hesitated on the sidewalk, unsure of which direction to go. He had to find her. As a princess of Tamir, she should not be wandering around alone.
Dammit, she knew better than to go off on her own, he thought as he hurried down the sidewalk. His gaze swept left, then right as he ran, searching for any sign of the princess under his protection.
Sheik Ahmed would have his head if anything happened to his beloved daughter. And Farid would not be able to live with himself.
He knew the palace grounds were huge, and he had no idea if he was going in the right direction. As he hurried along, he encountered two palace guards. The first one had seen nobody all evening long. The second guard told him he'd given Princess Samira directions to Desmond Caruso's quarters and gave the same directions to Farid.
Farid ran, knowing that as long as Samira was alone she was in possible danger. As he raced in the direction the guard had indicated, his anger peaked into a new burst of rage.
What had possessed her? Had this entire trip to Montebello been about a romantic liaison? If so, it was the most irresponsible thing she'd ever done.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he spied her familiar, petite shape standing on the sidewalk just outside Desmond Caruso's residence.
Although her back was to him, he recognized the bright coral dress that hugged her slender shape. He grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him.
"How dare you compromise my position and your own safety by sneaking out?" he exclaimed angrily.
Her beautiful eyes widened at the sight of him, then she burst into tears. He instantly dropped his hands from her shoulders.
"And don't think your tears will temper my anger with you at the moment," he continued irritably. "I will not be manipulated by your tears. What you did was foolish and irresponsible."
"You have no idea just how foolish and irresponsible I've been," she cried, and before Farid knew her intent, she threw herself against him, sobbing as if her heart was breaking in two.
* * *
Desmond Caruso was irritat
ed, but he hid his irritation beneath the charming smile that was his trademark. It wasn't enough that in the last couple of weeks he'd felt himself being subtly cut off from all palace gossip and news, now he had Ursula to deal with.
"Ursula … darling … give me a minute to breathe." Gently, but firmly, he moved away from the slender, busty blonde.
Ursula Chambers had been the last person he'd expected to show up at his place, although he'd known she was in Montebello.
Over the past week he'd received numerous messages and phone calls from her, but he'd accepted none of them. He had bigger fish to fry than a failed actress with desperation in her eyes.
He had met Ursula almost five months before when he'd traveled to Shady Rock, Colorado to get information about King Marcus's eldest son and heir to the throne, Prince Lucas. It had been more than a year since Lucas's plane had gone down in the Rockies .
Although the wreckage had been thoroughly searched, as had the area in and around the crash site, no body had ever been found.
Desmond had received information that it was possible the crown prince had worked as a ranch hand on a small spread in Shady Rock, so he had flown to Colorado to check it out. There he'd met Ursula, and instantly he'd recognized her as a kindred spirit.
"You've been avoiding me," she now said, her plump lips pulled into a pout.
"That's not true," he protested. "I've just been so busy." He'd been busy romancing a princess from Tamir. A man had to do what a man had to do in order to achieve his plans for his future. "But you were never far from my mind. By the way, how did you get past the guards?"
Ursula sank down on the sofa and crossed her long, shapely legs. "It took me almost every night of the last week to finally convince a guard to let me in." She smiled and twirled a strand of her long hair between two fingers. "It took a combination of seductive flirting, money and the promise of more of both to come before he'd tell me where you lived and let me in."
"And who was this guard who takes his job so seriously?" Desmond asked. He would see to it that the guard was fired for dereliction of duty.
"Edwardo something…"
"Edwardo Scarpa." Desmond knew the guard well. Scarpa had a weakness for women and many suspected a bit of a gambling habit.
Ursula dropped the strand of her hair and leaned forward, her blue eyes as guileless as a newborn baby. "But let's not talk about him. Let's talk about us."
There is no us, Desmond wanted to yell. There had been a time when he'd actively pursued Ursula, a time when he'd believed her useful to his goals.
Believing she had information about the missing crown prince, he'd become her lover and confidante.
However, since Prince Lucas had returned alive and well and Desmond's hopes of seeing his half brother, Lorenzo, on the throne had been dashed, he no longer had any use for the striking, scheming has-been actress.
But he also realized it would be dangerous to toss her out like a piece of spoiled meat. She knew too much, and it was possible that if he spurned her she would make trouble for him.
He sat on the sofa next to her and placed his arm around her. Her scent surrounded him, the scent of expensive perfume. She held herself stiffly for a moment, the innocence in her eyes transforming into something almost ugly. "I shouldn't even speak to you, much less let you touch me. You've been mean and hateful in ignoring me. I will not be ignored, Desmond."
Her words, subtle with an unspoken threat, fired his irritation once again, but he smiled and stroked a hand down the softness of her hair. "Darling, I told you I haven't been ignoring you. Since Prince Lucas's return, there has been much business to attend to here in Montebello."
The anger left her eyes, replaced by an edge of desperation. "So, you still want me?"
"Of course I do." He pulled her closer and kissed her eager lips.
As the kiss ended she sighed with pleasure and smiled at him, a new twinkle in her eyes. "I had to come to see you. I missed you so much … and I have some information for you."
"Information?" Desmond sat back. "What kind of information?"
Her lips curved into a smug, secretive smile. "Information that just might be worth a king's ransom."
Desmond's pulse quickened. "What are you talking about? Tell me."
Again her lips puffed out in a pout. "I don't think I'll tell you now, you've been so mean in not returning my phone calls and messages."
Desmond clenched his fists in frustration. Damn this woman and her foolish games. He knew she wouldn't have traveled all this way if she didn't think the information she had was valuable.
Ursula was looking for the same things Desmond was … a future filled with riches, and a place among royalty. And like himself, he knew she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I've been busy. I was not intentionally avoiding you. Now, tell me what this tidbit of information is."
She shook her head, a glassy glitter hardening her gaze. "I think you should take me out for dinner tomorrow evening. Someplace nice and expensive … someplace where I'll be seen by important people. Then perhaps I'll share my secret with you."
She stood, looking like the proverbial cat that had dined on the canary. "I'm staying at the Montebello hotel, room 212. I'll expect you about seven tomorrow evening."
Desmond stood, fighting against his desire to wrap his hands around her slender neck and throttle her until her face turned blue. However, before he could do that, he had to learn the secret she possessed that was worth a "king's ransom."
Once he got that secret out of her, he would see to it that he was rid of her forever, and her permanent silence was assured.
Chapter 2
Other than an occasional inadvertent brush of shoulders or the accidental touching of hands, Farid had never before touched Princess Samira. Now they stood breasts to chest, hip to hip.
He had never considered before how soft her breasts might be against his own chest. He had never before considered how neatly the top of her head would fit so perfectly beneath his chin.
The spicy scent of her perfume was intoxicating, as were the soft curves that filled his arms. Farid drew in a sharp breath as he realized the thoughts that flittered at the edges of his mind were distinctly unbodyguardlike.
For just a moment, he wanted to wrap her in his arms. He wanted to tangle his fingers into her shoulder-length, silky black hair and taste the sweetness of her full lips.
These thoughts were fleeting and completely inappropriate. Instead of following through on any of them, he once again gripped her by her slender shoulders and pulled her away from him.
Her tears had now changed to deep, wrenching sobs. "I don't know what I'm going to do… I've been so incredibly stupid … how am I ever going to tell my parents…" The words came jerkily from her, interspersed with choking sobs.
He'd thought her tears to be an attempt at manipulation so he wouldn't stay angry with her. Now he recognized them as something much different, and a touch of alarm shot through him.
What could be so bad that she couldn't go to her parents?
A million questions filled his head, but as he saw several royal guards wearing expressions of concern walking in their direction, he took her arm. "Princess, pull yourself together," he commanded brusquely. It would not do to create a scandal.
The answers to his questions could be told to him when they were back in their private quarters. This was not the time or the place.
Still holding her arm, he guided her away from Desmond Caruso's residence and back toward the guest house where they were staying. He nodded curtly to the guards, apparently satisfying them that everything was under control.
Neither of them spoke on the way back to their quarters. The only sounds were those of the singing of night insects and Samira's soft crying.
Once they were again in the guest house, she sank down on the overstuffed cushions of the sofa and buried her face in her hands.
Again concern filled Far
id. He stood directly before her. "Princess … do you wish to talk about whatever it is that has you distressed?" Aware of his position as her servant, not her equal, he was reluctant to push her too hard.
She looked up at him, her dark eyes liquid with tears and the tip of her nose slightly reddened by her crying. "What is there to talk about?" Her voice held a slight edge of hysteria. "I loved him. I thought he loved me … he told me he loved me, but he lied. It was all lies."
Farid relaxed as he realized the reason for her tears was apparently nothing more than a foolish matter of the heart. Women, he thought. Such passionate, emotional creatures.
Farid had never been bothered with such nonsense. He'd had women before … physical relationships that were pleasant, but with women who expected nothing from him, women who knew his life, his honor and his heart were bound to Sheik Ahmed Kamal and the Tamir crown.
"Who told you he loved you?" he asked curiously. "Desmond Caruso?"
She nodded, her silky dark hair partially obscuring her delicate features as she stared down at her folded hands in her lap. "I thought we were going to get married. He led me to believe we'd have a life together. I thought he was the man for me." Once again tears fell from her eyes and trekked down her cheeks. "He told me I was the only woman for him, but he lied. He was with somebody else just now … his lover."
Farid frowned, unsure how to handle this uncustomary display of emotion. In the months he had been with Samira, she'd always been cheerful and optimistic, never given to dramatic outbursts.
"Then the man is a snake and you'll find another man who will marry you," he said gruffly. He wanted nothing more than for her to stop crying.
"No, I won't," she cried miserably. She jumped up off the sofa and walked to the window, looking like a wilted, peach-colored flower. "You don't understand," she said, her back to him. "No man will ever want me now."
He stared at her in bewilderment. "Don't be silly. You're an attractive young woman and I'm certain you will have many suitors in your future."
"I'm not a young woman," she protested, her back still to him. "I'm twenty-nine years old and no other man will ever want me because … because…" She twirled around and looked at him, sheer misery reflected in the darkness of her eyes. "I'm pregnant with Desmond's child."