by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
She wasn't oblivious to the admiring glances he'd received from the other female diners from the moment they'd walked into the elegant dining establishment. The fact that other women coveted him and she was the one with him filled her with an intoxicating feeling of power.
From the moment she had met him at her family ranch in Shady Rock, Colorado , she'd known the unbelievably handsome man with royal ties just might be her ticket to her big break in life.
"You're looking quite smug," he now said to her as they lingered over dessert and coffee.
She smiled. "And why shouldn't I? I've just had an incredible meal in a beautiful restaurant with a stunning view." She swept her hand toward the window that offered a panoramic view of the harbor.
"I noticed you made sure you ordered the most expensive items on the menu," Desmond said dryly.
"And I'm worth every dime," she replied.
"Of course you are, my love," he replied smoothly, his dark gaze inscrutable as he looked at her.
She wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup, her gaze lingering on him. She was more than a little bit in love with him and there was a part of her that felt he had been brought into her life by the divine hand of fate.
"What?" He looked at her expectantly.
"I was just thinking that it must have been fate that brought us together. I mean, of all the places in Colorado for Prince Lucas to show up after his plane crash, he came to work on my sister's place. And then you showed up looking for clues to his whereabouts."
"You know how anxious we all were to find out anything we could about Prince Lucas's well-being." He cast a quick glance around as if to make certain nobody else could hear their conversation.
Ursula smiled knowingly. She knew exactly what Desmond had had in mind when he'd shown up at her ranch looking for the whereabouts of the missing heir.
If Prince Lucas wound up dead, then Desmond's half brother Lorenzo would ascend to the throne and Desmond would be assured a position of power.
"But now he's back. I assume he's no longer suffering any amnesia?"
"No. It appears he has all his memories back." Desmond frowned, the gesture doing nothing to detract from his attractiveness. "Which, unfortunately, means he remembers that he's never particularly liked me."
Ursula ran a perfectly manicured index finger around the rim of her coffee cup, then looked up at him once again. "Don't worry, Desmond, I have the means to see to it that Prince Lucas is forever in your debt … and mine." She saw the sharp edge of hunger that lit his eyes, the intensity that suddenly radiated from his body.
"What is it, Ursula?" He leaned across the table and she could smell the woodsy scent of his expensive cologne. "Tell me what you know."
He reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. As always, she thrilled at his touch.
Damn him. She wanted to see that hunger in his eyes for her, not for what secrets he thought she possessed. "Talk to me, Ursula," he urged.
Suddenly she was mad at him all over again. After all they had shared, after all their schemes and dreams, the moment the crown prince had been found and Desmond had returned to Montebello, he'd stopped communicating with her, had ignored her messages and calls.
She pulled her hand from his and rose gracefully from her chair. "I really don't think this is the time or the place. Besides, I need to go visit the ladies' room."
As she walked to the back of the restaurant toward the restrooms, she was aware of several men's gazes following her progress.
She'd once had a lover tell her she had the grace and posture of a queen with just enough sensual sway to her hips to hint at a whore.
He'd had no idea how many hours she'd practiced her walk, her stance, the very presence she radiated. He'd had no idea the sacrifices she'd made to make certain she looked as good as possible.
The continuous dieting, the exercise, the facials and hairdressers, they had all been necessities to prepare her for her glorious future … a future that was now just at the tips of her fingers.
All the bad breaks were behind her now. She was on the verge of achieving her greatest success – a permanent position of power in the Montebello palace. She would live like a queen, all thanks to her sister and the secret that burned in Ursula's heart.
The powder room in the Glass Swan was as elegant as the restaurant itself. Several gold-brocade chaise lounges awaited weary ladies and the walls were lined with brightly lit mirrors. She stood before one of the mirrors and eyed her reflection.
She'd been right in buying the little black dress she wore, although it had been prohibitively expensive. It fit her as if it had been made specifically for her, emphasizing the breasts that had cost her a small fortune, her slender waistline and slim hips.
The darkness of the dress enhanced the blond of her hair and the blue of her eyes. Leaning closer to the mirror, she frowned as she saw the tiny lines that fanned out from her eyes.
She was thirty-five years old and it was beginning to show. A terrified desperation swept through her, along with a rage at the unfairness of life.
She'd always believed that by the time she reached thirty she'd be a famous, wealthy actress. She'd gone to New York City with that goal in mind and had hooked up with a manager who'd quickly become her lover.
Unfortunately, Derek had dropped her not only as a lover, but as a client, and her dreams of power and prestige had gone up in smoke. She'd been forced to run back to the ranch in Colorado with her tail tucked between her legs.
She withdrew a tube of lipstick from her purse and slid the scarlet color across her lips. But now she had the biggest role of her life ahead of her, the role that would see all her dreams come true. She'd even orchestrated the murder of her sister for the plum role of a lifetime.
She twisted the lipstick back into its tube and dropped it back into her purse. Poor Jessica. She'd fallen in love with a ranch hand, not knowing he was a prince suffering from amnesia. And when she'd discovered herself pregnant with the prince's child, she'd refused to use the child as a pawn.
Stupid, pathetic Jessica. She hadn't realized the power the child represented. She'd had to be sacrificed for the sake of Ursula's future.
Now all the pieces of that future were in a line and all she needed was a little more capital and a little grease to see things through. The money she'd gotten from selling her sister's heirloom ring wouldn't last forever. And that's where Desmond came into the plan.
Of course, what she hoped was that Desmond would marry her, and together with the child they would wield more power than anyone else in the palace.
Again she felt a stir of anger coupled with the ugly taste of despair as she thought of Desmond refusing her calls and messages since she'd been in Montebello.
She couldn't believe that he'd just decided to roll over and play dead … given up on the idea of having any sort of power or influence with the royalty of Montebello. Desmond wasn't the kind to just give up. So what was going on with him? And why had he been avoiding her?
She left the restroom and went back the table where Desmond had apparently already paid for their meal and was ready to leave.
He pulled her close to him as they walked out of the restaurant. "I thought we could go back to your hotel room. We can talk in private there."
"No, let's go to your place," she countered. "And before I tell you anything, Desmond, I want you to make love to me. I want you to show me just how much you've missed me."
His gaze bore into hers, breathtakingly intense. "You know I want that as much as you do, darling. I've missed making love to you." He leaned down and nibbled the skin just below her ear.
A thrill rushed through her at his words and a shiver worked up her spine as his lips danced erotically down her neck.
Maybe he did care for her more than just a little. Still, she wasn't letting him off the hook so easily.
Maybe after they made love, she'd tell him what she knew. But, then again … maybe she wouldn't.
C
hapter 5
"I've thought it over carefully," Samira said to Farid the next afternoon. They were in a little restaurant called the Sultan's Den, having a late lunch.
Samira had slept sinfully late after a night of restless tossing and turning. Sleep had been long in coming as she'd struggled with doubts about the decision she'd made concerning not only her own future, but that of the child she carried as well.
"I think we should marry immediately, right here in Montebello," she said.
Farid raised a dark brow. Again today he was dressed in casual clothing. Navy slacks hugged his slender hips and a short-sleeved pale blue and navy striped shirt exposed his muscular biceps and forearms.
"We can remarry with my family members present once we return to Tamir," she hurriedly added. "But I think we should spend a couple of weeks here … married … to get better acquainted and more at ease with one another. Otherwise my parents won't believe that we've been … uh … lovers for the past three months."
She looked down at her salad, unable to maintain eye contact with him as she talked of them being lovers. Would Farid be a good lover? She shoved the thought aside, knowing it was foolish to even entertain the notion. They were agreeing to a marriage in name only, one that would preclude any physical contact.
"Don't you think it would be better to marry in Tamir with your mother and father's blessing?" Although his tone was even, she sensed his disapproval with what she had planned.
He didn't understand her fear – the fear that if she returned to Tamir without already being married to Farid, she would crumble beneath her father's questions and tell the truth about Desmond Caruso.
She was frightened that she wasn't strong enough to stand up to her father and choose her own path. But here in Montebello at this very moment in time, she was strong enough to choose her destiny – a destiny void of love, but one of dignity.
"I think it's better if we do it as I've planned." She looked up at him again, grateful to see none of the disapproval she'd thought she'd heard in his voice on his features.
"Won't your parents find it odd that you're staying so long here in Tamir?" he asked.
She used her fork to toy with a piece of lettuce. "I'll tell them I'm awaiting Princess Anna's return from the States. There is nothing pressing on my calendar for the next couple of weeks and no reason for me to hurry back to Tamir. They probably won't question my decision to remain here for a while."
Farid shoved his empty plate aside and instead wrapped his large hands around a steaming mug of coffee. "And how will we accomplish this wedding here in Montebello?"
Samira took a sip of her water, once again fighting any doubts that might flitter through her mind concerning her choice in marrying Farid.
She had to focus on the fact that she knew he would be a good husband, and more important, a good father to the baby she carried. She couldn't forget how good he'd been with the lost little girl in the piazza.
"There's an old family friend living here in Montebello. His name is Abdul Geta, and he's the Imam in a small mosque east of here. He would marry us."
"Without your father's permission?" Farid asked.
Samira smiled as she thought of her old teacher. "Abdul and my father were longtime friends. Six months ago they had a fight and Abdul left Tamir in a temper fit, claiming my father was the most stubborn, irritating, thickheaded man he'd ever known. I think Abdul will be pleased to marry us without my father's consent."
Farid took a sip of his coffee. As always, his expression was inscrutable. "When you say you wish us to marry immediately, exactly when are you talking about?"
"Today." Now that she'd made her decision, she wanted the marriage to take place as soon as possible. "I thought this afternoon we could drive out to find Abdul." She set her fork down next to her plate. "And I think it best that we keep our marriage a secret until we are ready to return to Tamir."
He looked down into his coffee cup, a frown drawing his eyebrows closer together in the center of his brow. It was obvious he was contemplating the pros and cons of what she was suggesting.
"You trust this Abdul?" he finally asked.
She nodded. "With my life. Abdul and I had a special relationship." She thought of the hours she and the old scholar had talked, exchanging ideas on everything from religion to computer games. He had been like a favorite, beloved uncle to her, and she'd missed him since he'd left Tamir.
Farid sipped his coffee once again, the thoughtful wrinkle deepening in the center of his forehead. "We'll need to rent a car. If you wish to keep this a secret, then we don't want to have one of the palace vehicles take us to Abdul. That would draw unwanted attention to us."
"I agree." She was grateful he was going along with her plans. "A rental car would be best." She took another sip of her water. All the talk of marriage and subterfuge was making her mouth unaccountably dry.
She looked at the man across from her, the man who had agreed to step up to protect her and her family from gossip. He was so handsome, with his rich olive complexion and large dark eyes. His handsomeness was far different from Desmond Caruso's, although no less compelling.
Desmond's eyes hadn't held the same liquid depths that Farid's did. Desmond's chiseled features had not held the quiet strength found in the sculptured planes and square jaw of Farid's face.
He could easily have chosen a beautiful woman as his wife, and had a marriage based on passion rather than a marriage based on duty.
"Farid, are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. She eyed him worriedly. She had no idea what she'd do if he changed his mind, but would never pressure him to go through with the marriage.
He smiled at her, the first open, honest smile she'd ever seen. The gesture shot warmth into his dark eyes, curved his sensual full lips upward and created star-bursts of appealing smile lines at the corners of his eyes. "Don't worry, Samira. There are no doubts in my mind. If it's what you wish, then I would be honored to become your husband and the father to your child."
The smile, coupled with the words she so desperately wanted to hear, sent a burst of gratitude and sudden affection through her. "I will see to it that my father rewards you handsomely."
"My reward is knowing that I'm doing what's right for my country."
His words were a harsh reminder to Samira. She had to remember that Farid was a man of duty and that seemed to be the sum of him.
She placed her napkin next to her plate. "Shall we go back to the guest house and arrange for a car?"
He nodded, and within half an hour they were back in the guest house. While Farid arranged for a car to meet them outside the palace gates, Samira called her mother to tell her they were staying longer than they'd initially planned.
Thankfully, Alima accepted her daughter's explanation without question. After hanging up the phone, Samira eyed the clothing she had brought with her to Montebello and tried to decide what would be appropriate wedding attire.
Her wedding.
For a moment, as she stood before the closet, she closed her eyes and thought of the wedding dreams she'd entertained for as long as she could remember.
She'd always believed that she would marry in a ceremony with her parents present and proud, with her sisters and brothers surrounding her, and that she would be binding her life to a man she loved above all others.
As a young woman she'd fantasized about her wedding night, a night of unbridled passion coupled with sweet murmurs of love forever.
She opened her eyes and placed her hands over her lower abdomen. It was time to put away her girlish dreams, time to grow up and realize that the kind of love she'd once dreamed about was to be sacrificed for the welfare of the baby she carried.
Still, she only intended to be married once in her life, so she wanted to wear something special. She finally settled on a gauzy, off-white dress that she'd never worn before and that probably wouldn't wrinkle during the hour or two ride in the car.
After she'd slipped on the dress, she stared at
her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was about to marry a man she didn't love, a man who had made it fairly clear he didn't even believe in love … at least not the kind of love she'd always dreamed about.
She steadfastly refused to consider whether it was the right thing to do or not. She'd made her decision, and as far as she was concerned, she had only one choice that made any kind of sense – to marry her bodyguard.
* * *
It had been a while since Farid had been behind the steering wheel of a car, and with each mile that passed, he remembered how much he enjoyed driving.
Most of the time, whenever the princess went anywhere, a car and driver were provided and Farid always rode with her. He cast a surreptitious glance at the woman seated next to him.
It touched him that she'd changed clothes, that even though they were entering into a relationship more like a legal contract than a marriage, it had been important enough to her that she'd dressed up.
He tried not to notice the thrust of her breasts against the bodice of the thin dress and attempted to ignore the heady scent of her that filled the confines of the car.
"Beautiful country, isn't it?" he asked in an attempt to alleviate the silence that had prevailed between them during the drive.
"It reminds me of Tamir," she replied. "It has the same beautiful beaches and soaring mountains."
That seemed to exhaust the conversation about the geological delights of Montebello, and again they both fell silent.
Farid wondered if she was entertaining second thoughts about the marriage. He entertained none. He'd been assigned to protect Samira. Of course, the best thing that could have happened would have been for Desmond Caruso to be a good and decent man. He and Samira would have married and raised their child together.
But Farid would not see her married to a man like Caruso. His princess deserved better, and Farid vowed to be a good husband to the princess he was sworn to protect. He would stay with her for as long as she wanted him to, and when she decided it was time for their marriage to end, he would step away from her life with dignity and honor.