by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
"Samira, you realize that no matter what happens in the future between us, I will always want to be a part of your child's life."
"You sound as if you have little hope of a marriage between us lasting for any length of time."
He shrugged. "I just want you to understand that I will be a father to your child for as long as you want me to be."
"I already knew that, Farid," she said softly. "It's one of the reasons I've decided to go forward with this." She turned her attention back out the window.
"What was the name of the town where Abdul lives?" he asked when they'd been driving for a little over an hour.
"Kyrna," she replied. She pulled the map from the glove box and opened it. "It should be the next town we come to. I can't wait to see Abdul and his family again."
Within minutes they were in the small town of Kyrna and had located the small but well-tended mosque. Several young boys sat on the grass surrounding the traditional fountain in the center courtyard in front of the place of worship.
"We're looking for the Imam," Farid said to the boys as he and Samira approached the mosque. The Imam was the leader of the mosque. "Abdul Geta?"
"He's not here," one of the boys replied. "He's at home this time of the day."
"And where is his home?" Samira asked.
A younger boy pointed toward a nearby street. "Down that way, three houses on the left."
"Thank you," Farid said and the two of them once again got back into the car. He drove to the house where the boy had indicated Abdul Geta lived, then put the car into Park and turned to look at Samira.
He could see a pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. It made her look achingly vulnerable, and more than a little frightened.
"You know it isn't too late to change your mind about all this," he said softly.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Have you changed your mind?"
"No, Samira. I haven't changed my mind, but I want you to understand that if you do, there will be no hard feelings."
The smile she offered him lit a small flame in the pit of his stomach. "Good, because I don't believe in harboring hard feelings. Life is far too short." She opened her car door. "Shall we go find Abdul?"
Yes, Farid thought as he followed her to the entrance of the house. Samira wasn't the type to hold a grudge against anyone. Unlike Farid.
The door was answered by an old man wearing a traditional dishdashah. The long white cotton dress looked oddly elegant on his thin, tall frame. He uttered a nonsensical sound of surprise, then grabbed Samira and hugged her to his chest
"Ah, my little one," he exclaimed, his affection for the princess obvious. "How good it is to see you. Come, come into my humble home." He gestured both of them inside, where the living room was dark and cool and the air smelled of something spicy cooking.
Samira introduced the two men. Together she and Farid sat on the sofa while Abdul took the chair directly across from them.
"Ah, Samira, I have missed you," he said, his dark eyes lit with obvious affection. "Tell me of things in Tamir … your family is well?"
For the next few minutes Samira and Abdul visited about mutual old friends and her family members. They spoke of politics and of Samira's brother's wedding.
"I would love to think that you have traveled all this way just to visit an old teacher and friend, but I sense there is more to your visit than that." Abdul gazed at Samira with unabashed curiosity.
Samira nodded. "We wish you to marry us … here … and now."
Abdul sat back in his chair and eyed them in surprise. "And why would you not marry in Tamir with your family in attendance?"
Farid kept silent, unsure how much of the truth Samira was willing to tell Abdul. To his surprise, Samira told him the entire truth … about her brief affair, the discovery of her pregnancy and Farid's offer to be both husband to her and father to her unborn child. What she didn't tell Abdul was the name of the man she'd had the affair with.
She also told him she wanted the ceremony to remain a secret until she told her parents upon their return to Tamir.
Abdul sat silently, nodding his head occasionally as Samira spoke. "Please, Abdul, you must do this for me … for us," she finished, her eyes echoing her heartfelt appeal.
When she finished, he templed his fingers on his lap and gazed at them both thoughtfully. "Marriage is not something you enter into lightly. It is a sacred bond, a joining of souls."
"We are both committed to getting married," Samira replied. "We are not taking any of this lightly. We feel a union between the two of us would be a good thing."
Abdul turned his gaze to Farid. "And you can provide for Princess Samira and the child she will have?"
"Yes, I can," Farid replied, although he knew he would never be able to provide Samira with the kind of lifestyle she was accustomed to having.
"And you can love the child she carries as your own?"
Farid nodded. "I can."
Abdul stared at him for a long moment, then he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Although it isn't mandatory, I recommend not only a written marriage contract, but also a prenuptial agreement as well."
Abdul returned his gaze to Samira. "A prenuptial agreement will protect your assets in case there is a divorce."
"That's really not necessary," Samira protested. "I have no intention of getting divorced. Besides, I trust Farid completely."
"If you draw one up, I'll sign it," Farid said.
"Very well." Abdul stood. "I have the necessary paperwork in the other room. I'll just go get it and we can have my wife and son be witnesses."
"You don't have to sign a prenuptial agreement," Samira said to him once Abdul had left them alone in the room. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be marrying you."
"I appreciate that, Samira, but signing a prenup is a smart thing to do."
"I have no intention of ever getting a divorce," she repeated and her eyes held an appeal, a need to hear the same sentiment from him. He didn't disappoint her.
"Nor do I," he replied. "I am in this for life, Samira." He meant it. He would not be the one to ever seek a divorce. However, he knew there was a strong possibility that when they returned to Tamir, she would.
This marriage was agreeable to her now because she was afraid of her parents, afraid to go home without being married. Once she returned to her home and to her life as a princess, Farid didn't expect the marriage to last. He was already prepared for the end before the marriage had even officially begun.
She would meet a man her equal, a man who could give her the hearts-and-flowers kind of love that she obviously believed in. A love he didn't believe in.
However, no matter how long or short the marriage, to the outside world, the child she carried would be Farid's, and he would be in the child's life for as long as he was wanted and needed.
Both Samira and Farid stood as Abdul reentered the room, this time flanked by a tall young man who resembled him and a short, squat woman with graying hair. Abdul introduced the two to Farid as Aziz, his eldest son, and Iraina, his wife.
"I have typed up a brief prenup." He handed a copy to Farid and a copy to Samira. It was brief, merely stating that each would leave the marriage with the same assets they had when they entered into the marriage. "If you'll both sign my copy, then we can proceed with the ceremony."
The ceremony to make Farid and Samira husband and wife was a short, simple one. They pronounced their desire to marry each other, then Farid was required to give Mahr. Mahr was a gift from the groom to the bride, and Farid had come prepared for such an offering.
He withdrew from his pocket a thin gold ring and handed it to Abdul. "It was my mother's ring," he said. She had given it to him days before she'd died, telling him to find love and to use the ring to symbolize that love.
It was also at that time that she'd told him the secret she'd carried for years, a secret that had ripped apart the fabric of his life and had filled him with an anger he'd yet to resolve.
But ther
e was no place for anger in him at the moment, and he shoved away thoughts of his mother and her deception as Abdul proclaimed them husband and wife.
"And you may kiss the bride," Iraina exclaimed with a girlish giggle.
Abdul rolled his eyes. "I fear that western influences have corrupted my wife."
"But that's one of the nicer western traditions," Samira said and looked at Farid shyly. "I would not be averse to a kiss from my new husband."
A surge of energy swept through him, an energy that brought with it a rush of heat. Kiss Samira? In the brief time he'd had to contemplate marriage to her, he'd envisioned the two of them making parenting decisions, attending social and business meetings as a couple, and sharing a living space. He hadn't thought about kissing her.
Iraina giggled and both Abdul and his son looked at Farid in commiseration, as if to acknowledge that it was easier to bow to the wishes of their women than to fight them.
Farid stepped closer to Samira and placed his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes shone and she parted her lips slightly. He was suddenly struck with a desire so intense it half blinded him.
He didn't want to just kiss her. He wanted to slowly remove her dress and taste every inch of her silky, sweet skin. He wanted to cup her bare breasts in his hands and rub his thumbs across the peaks until she cried out his name with urgent need.
Stunned by his own thoughts, he quickly shoved them away, touched his lips to hers, then stepped back from her. He thought he saw a touch of disappointment in her eyes at the brevity of the kiss, but it was there only a moment, then gone.
They remained in Abdul's home long enough for his wife to serve them refreshments, then they got back in the rental car for the long drive back to the palace.
"What did Abdul and your father fight about that caused the rift between them?" Farid asked, seeking any kind of conversation so they wouldn't suffer an uncomfortable silence.
Married. They were married. The enormity of what they'd just done hadn't sunk in yet. He wondered later if he'd have regrets or not.
"I don't know. I remember at the time my mother said it was nothing more than male foolishness. Both Abdul and my father are very proud men." She frowned and looked down at the ring she wore.
"You're frightened of how your father will accept our news?" He guessed at what was on her mind.
She smiled at him, as if pleased that he'd read her mind. "Frightened is too strong a word – concerned is more like it. Although I would have been far more concerned if I was going back to Tamir unmarried and pregnant." She sighed. "I just hate confrontation, and I know there is sure to be one with my father when we return."
A wave of protectiveness rose up inside him. "If and when you have that confrontation, you won't be having it alone. I'll be standing right next to you."
She flashed him a smile that once again sent a fluttering heat through him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and focused his attention on the road ahead.
Their conversation on the ride home remained light and easy. They talked about the landscape, the country of Montebello, and of the celebrations that would take place in five months' time when Prince Lucas would take the crown in January.
By the time they reached the outskirts of the piazza just outside the palace gates night was falling and they were both ready for another meal.
They returned the car to the rental place, then walked to the Red Dragon Inn for a late dinner. He could tell she was weary by the time they'd finished eating. As they walked back to the guest house, her eyes were drooping and she had grown quiet.
"I think the princess who used to love to stay up late has disappeared," he observed.
She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, then laughed. "I don't know what's the matter with me lately. I can't seem to get enough sleep."
"That's because you're sleeping for two." He frowned as they entered the guest house. "Aren't you supposed to be taking special vitamins or something?"
"Yes, and as soon as we get back to Tamir I'll go to the doctor for the prescription and a complete check-up."
"That's important," Farid said. "My son must be strong and healthy."
She looked at him in surprise and he realized it was the first time he'd made reference to her baby being his. "And if it's a daughter?" she asked.
"Then she will be beautiful and healthy."
She patted the sofa next to her and he sat down. "What would you prefer, Farid? A son or a daughter?"
As always, when seated so close to her, his head was filled with her sweet feminine scent. When had he become so aware of her as a woman? Always before he'd managed to think of her as a princess … a sexless entity to be admired from afar, to be protected at all costs.
Funny, because he'd never had a long-term relationship with a woman, the possibility of having children had never entered his mind. Now he found himself contemplating the joys and heartaches of children.
"A boy will cause us sleepless nights. He'll fight our authority, ignore our curfews and take us to the brink of madness before he finally becomes a man." He smiled softly. "But, a girl … a girl will simply break our hearts."
"That is positively dismal," Samira exclaimed.
He laughed. "Ah, but amid the heartache will be the greatest joys of our lives. Boy or girl … as long as it's healthy, I'll love either."
She reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "Thank you, Farid. Simply saying thank you seems so inadequate for what you've done for me." Tears suddenly glistened in her eyes and she released his hand and stood. "I must be overtired, because I'm getting emotional. I think I'll just go on to bed."
"Good night, Samira."
She murmured a good-night, then disappeared into the bedroom. Farid remained seated on the sofa, thinking about the day's events.
Married. He was married to Princess Samira of Tamir. He was responsible not only for her safety and for providing for her, but he was also responsible for her happiness. They had bound their lives together.
A temporary arrangement in all likelihood, he reminded himself.
She didn't love him and he didn't love her, but surely they could find some sense of contentment with one another for the time they shared together.
He admired many things about her. Her gentleness, her generosity and the quickness of her sweet smiles. She was more than easy to look at, and there had been moments over the past twenty-four hours when her smile and her touch had stoked a simmering ember of heat in the pit of his stomach.
"Farid?"
He turned toward the bedroom at the sound of her voice and his breath froze in his chest at the sight of her. She stood in the doorway, clad in a long, silky white nightgown with spaghetti straps. She looked lovelier than Farid had ever seen her before.
"If we are going to make my parents believe that we married for love, then it's important that we share the same bed." Her cheeks grew more and more pink as she spoke. "We should get accustomed to sharing a bed before we return to Tamir."
He nodded. "Then I'll be in there in just a few minutes."
"All right," she replied and once again disappeared from the doorway.
Farid drew in a deep breath. He hadn't thought about the sleeping arrangements. He hadn't considered that they would be sleeping side by side in the same bed.
When he had thought about marrying her, he hadn't considered the intimacy that was inherent in a marriage even if the two people involved weren't having sex.
Drawing another deep breath, he stood. It was no big deal, he told himself. He could sleep in the same bed with Samira.
He checked to make sure the doors were locked, then turned out the living-room light. Moonlight danced in the bedroom window, sending in enough illumination that he could easily see her on the right side of the bed, the sheet pulled up to just below her chin.
Her eyes were closed as if she'd already fallen asleep, but he knew she wasn't asleep by her irregular breathing. He knew by her pretending to be asleep she was hoping an aw
kward situation would be less awkward.
He moved to the empty side of the bed and eased down on the mattress. Quickly he removed his shoes and socks, then unstrapped the gun he'd been wearing on his ankle.
He normally wore the gun in a shoulder holster beneath his suit jacket, but since Samira had insisted he not wear his uniform the past two days, he now wore the gun hidden at his ankle.
He placed the loaded weapon on the nightstand, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on a nearby chair. Samira's scent enveloped him, creating a small ball of heat in the pit of his stomach.
Why did he feel so ridiculously nervous? There had been times in his past working royal security that he had literally faced death, but he couldn't remember being as nervous as he was at this moment.
Standing up, he removed his slacks, then slid beneath the sheet. He lay on his back, afraid to move a single muscle as his mind filled with a vision of her in her nightgown.
The white of the gown had made her olive skin look rich and warm, and the upper portion of her breasts had been visible above the neckline.
The ball of heat in the pit of his stomach expanded as he thought how easy it would be to touch her skin right now. All he had to do was reach out across the width of the mattress, and he would encounter her warm, sweet skin.
He squeezed his eyes tightly closed in an attempt to banish the mental image and was instantly suffused with the memory of the brief kiss they had shared.
Despite the fact that his mouth had touched hers for only a moment, it had been long enough for him to recognize that her lips were achingly soft.
Farid sighed, realizing that he just might have underestimated the difficulty of the celibacy issue.
Chapter 6
Samira awoke as dawn's light was stealing through the window. Warmth. She was surrounded by it, a sweet warmth that made her reluctant to move.
She drifted in the twilight place between unconscious sleep and complete wakefulness, no conscious thoughts disturbing her overall sense of well-being and security.