by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
Saarah had laid out Samira's favorite nightgown on the bed and had offered to run a bath, but Samira had sent her away, preferring to be alone.
She now pulled on the nightgown and within minutes was in the big bed alone, wishing Farid was next to her.
Reaching out an arm, she touched the pillow next to hers, wishing Farid's head were resting there. How was it possible that sleeping next to a man for a mere two and a half weeks could create a habit of familiarity that when taken away would cause such a bereavement?
She'd grown accustomed to falling to sleep with the rhythm of Farid's breathing matching her own. She'd grown used to the male scent of him, the warmth that radiated from him. She'd even grown to like the faint snoring that emitted from him early in the morning.
She'd never dreamed she'd desperately miss having him in her bed. She'd never dreamed how quickly he would become such an integral part of her life.
Turning over on her back, she placed her hands on her lower stomach and thought of the baby inside her. Farid's story of his past had illuminated the reasons why he'd been so volatile concerning her initial decision to never tell her baby about Desmond.
Her heart ached for Farid, who had lost years of knowing his real father, but she'd meant what she'd told him. They couldn't begin to guess Raisa's reasons for keeping such a secret from her son, but there was no doubt in Samira's mind that her decision had been based on love for her son.
Samira knew, because she loved her baby and desperately wanted to protect it from harm. She would tell Desmond about his baby … eventually.
Farid was correct. She had no right to keep a father from his child or a child from its father. She could only hope that Desmond would rise to the challenge of being a wonderful, loving, caring influence in the child's life.
And if he couldn't, then she could only hope that she and Farid could counteract any negative influence Desmond might have.
Would she and Farid even be together to accomplish such a lofty goal as to raise a child together? Could they survive as a couple without the kind of love Samira had once dreamed of having? Could they survive years together in a marriage that was based on Farid's duty and her own desperation?
She closed her eyes, drifting to sleep with no answers forthcoming, and awakened with the sun streaming through her windows.
For a moment she was disoriented.
Farid.
Why wasn't he next to her? With his body warming hers? Why weren't his arms around her, holding her tightly against him? Then she remembered they were in the palace in Tamir and she was in the bedroom of her girlhood.
The anxiety that had haunted her each time she'd thought of telling her parents of her pregnancy and her marriage now exploded inside her as she realized the moment was nearly at hand.
Her bedroom door creaked open and Saarah stuck her head in. "Good morning, Princess."
Samira forced a smile, although she'd rather bury her head in her pillows and not face the morning to come.
"Would you like me to bring you something from the kitchen or would you prefer I draw you a bath?"
"A bath." Samira said. "And would you get out my silver jalabiya with the matching trousers?"
"But of course," Saarah replied and disappeared into the bathroom to begin her duties.
Her father liked to see his daughters in traditional clothing and Samira figured she needed every edge she could get when she and Farid told them their news.
Moments later she sank down into the warm, jasmine-scented water in the tub and listened to Saarah as the maid filled her in on the latest palace gossip. As she listened to Saarah's harmless chatter, she tried to calm the nerves that raced through her.
As Saarah helped her dress, the maid didn't mention that Samira had gained weight while on her trip or how snugly the trousers fit around her waist. But Samira saw the light of knowledge in Saarah's dark eyes.
"Thank you, Saarah, that will be all for now," Samira said as Saarah finished brushing her hair.
Saarah gave her a respectful bow, then silently left the room. She cast herself one final glance in the mirror, reminding herself that her father obviously liked and trusted Farid, otherwise he would have never appointed Farid her personal bodyguard. Perhaps he would be happy at their union, and all Samira's worries would be for naught.
With this positive thought in mind, she left the wing where her bedroom was located and went downstairs. Farid seemed to appear from nowhere.
"Good morning," he said softly.
He looked as handsome as she'd ever seen him. His navy slacks were sharply pressed, as was his white shirt and navy jacket. He looked crisp and coolly professional, and a small flutter of panic shot through Samira as she felt an emotional distance from him.
Then he smiled and reached out a hand to her. "Are you okay?" he asked. The warmth that radiated from his eyes momentarily banished her nervous tension.
She squeezed his hand. "I am now."
"Your father went into his office a few minutes ago and I believe your mother is in there with him," Farid said.
A new burst of anxiety swept through Samira. "Then I guess it's time to go tell them our news."
Together the two of them walked down the long, grand hallway toward Sheik Ahmed Kamal's private office. Samira's heart thundered so loudly she felt as if it echoed off the walls surrounding them.
Don't be so nervous, she told herself. After all, it was her parents she was about to confront – the mother and father who had loved and nurtured her for all of her life. It wasn't like she was about to face a couple of ogres.
Still, despite the fact that she knew her parents loved her, she also knew how they – well, her father – had reacted to Leila's husband when scandal had forced Leila to marry the man she now loved deeply. Sheik Ahmed now approved of his new son-in-law, but in the beginning things had been a little tense. At least Nadia had just become engaged to a real hero, the man who had exposed her father's former trusted advisor, Butrus Daboir, as a leader of the terrorist group that had caused so much trouble between Tamir and Montebello. The guards on either side of the office door remained unmoving, at attention, as they approached.
Farid released her hand and turned to her. "Samira, remember your promise to me," he murmured as he raised his hand to knock on the door.
She knew the promise he spoke of and nodded, her heart in her throat as his knock was answered by the strong, vibrant voice of her father bidding them entry.
Sheik Ahmed's office was an enormous room, lavishly decorated in rich purples and shining gold accents. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting the history of Tamir in exquisite needlepoint. Leather chairs and Persian carpets completed the decor.
The focal point of the room was the enormous mahogany desk behind which sat Samira's father. Samira's mother, Alima, sat in her favorite chair by an arched window that looked out on the ocean, her calendar open on her lap.
Samira knew it was customary for her parents to begin their workday by discussing their individual schedules, and apparently that's just what they had been doing.
As Samira and Farid approached the desk, Alima closed her calendar, set it on the desk and stood, her expression radiating a pleased surprise. "Samira, I didn't realize you had returned from Montebello."
Samira gave her short, slightly plump mother a hug. "We got in very late last night."
Alima hugged her then held her at arm's length. "You look well. Your vacation has agreed with you."
"And things were well in Montebello?" Sheik Ahmed asked.
Samira released her hold on her mother and faced her father.
Sheik Ahmed Kamal was a handsome man with strong features. His hair and beard had, over the years, gone snowy white, merely serving to emphasize the piercing darkness of his intelligent eyes.
"Both King Marcus and Queen Gwendolyn send their regards to you and Mother," she replied. "I enjoyed a nice meal with them and Prince Lucas while I was there."
Sheik Ahmed nodded, his shar
p gaze going to Farid, then back to his daughter. "And you needed to bring your bodyguard to bring me their regards? Farid, you enjoyed your time in Montebello?"
"Yes, sir." Farid stepped up to stand next to Samira. Samira wondered if he was as nervous as she was. Certainly he showed no outward sign of nerves.
"Father … we have news to share with you and Mother." Samira's heart banged and her stomach flip-flopped nervously. She drew a deep breath and reached for Farid's hand.
She saw the flare of something in her father's eyes and the surprise that lit her mother's pretty features. "While we were in Montebello, Farid and I were married. We're married and I'm pregnant."
The silence that greeted her announcement was deafening. Samira tightened her grip on Farid's hand as her father stood, his olive skin suddenly flushed an overbright color that portended something bad.
"Ahmed," Alima said softly, as if aware of her husband's thoughts and emotions.
Sickness swooped through Samira as her father walked around his desk and came to stand directly before her and Farid.
There was no mistaking the emotion that had taken over her father's features. It was anger … an anger the likes of which Samira had never seen before.
Samira released her hold on Farid's hand. She wanted to step back, to run from the flames of ire that flashed from her father's eyes. "You are pregnant?" he said.
She nodded, but her father's gaze had already left her and now scorched Farid.
"You, Farid Nasir, have worked for the palace and my family for many years and now I find that you have betrayed my trust, made a mockery of your duty and dishonored not only my daughter, but me as well."
"Father…"
"Be silent!" Sheik Ahmed's voice thundered at Samira, then turned back to look at Farid once again. Farid remained unmoving beneath the sheik's angry glare. Not a muscle on his face twitched.
"Ahmed," Alima said softly, but the sheik ignored her. He reached up and took hold of the royal patch on Farid's breast pocket and with one vicious yank, ripped the patch completely off.
Samira gasped, tears half-blinding her. Farid remained unmoving, unblinking, not even attempting to defend himself or his honor.
"You have abused your position in the worst possible way. I have lost all trust, all respect for you and for that I banish you from the palace grounds."
"No!" Samira cried out. She shot a pleading look at her mother, who looked as heartbroken, as helpless as Samira felt. "We are married."
"I recognize no such thing. Guards," Sheik Ahmed bellowed as he stepped back from Farid. Instantly two guards appeared in the doorway. "Escort Farid Nasir from the palace grounds immediately."
As Farid left the room with the two guards, Samira turned to her parents. "Father … no … please," she begged. Finding no succor in her father, she turned her attention to her mother. "Mother, please – do something. You have to do something!"
Samira didn't wait to see what her mother might or might not do. Instead, she whirled around and ran after her husband, who was flanked by the two guards and heading out of the palace.
* * *
Ahmed sank back down into his chair behind his desk and buried his face in his hands. Alima walked over to stand beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Theirs had been an arranged marriage, one based on politics, but it had become a marriage of respect and desire and love.
She knew her husband was a man of intense emotions. It was what made him a good ruler but, at times, it could also be his undoing.
"Ahmed … he's her husband," she said softly.
He removed his hands from his face and turned to look at her, his eyes reflecting pain. "I will not recognize their marriage. To do so is to condone what has happened, and it is unforgivable that Farid took advantage of his position with our daughter."
Alima sighed and rubbed a hand across his tense shoulders. "Our daughters have had minds of their own from the moment they were born … because they are princesses, and because they are women. Look at how well Leila and Nadia have chosen."
"That's neither here nor there," he replied tersely, a frown etching deeply into his broad forehead. "Royal bodyguards are held to greater standards than ordinary men and Farid has acted like a man, not a bodyguard. I cannot forgive him for that."
Alima knew her husband well, and she heard the steely strength in his voice as he spoke these words. She knew that, at least for this moment in time, there was nothing she could do or say that would change his mind.
Perhaps later, after some time had passed and the shock had worn off, he would soften. But for now, emotions were too high to reason with him.
"She's with child, Ahmed," she said softly, unable to stop herself from trying one last time to soften his heart. "Our second grandchild."
"And we will do everything in our power to support Samira and the child she carries," he said. "Tell her that, Alima. Tell her that she and her child will want for nothing, but I will not allow that man back in the palace or on the grounds. He will have no place in my family, in my life or in my heart."
Alima's heart sank, but she kissed her husband on his forehead and hurried out of the room, intent on finding Samira.
She had a feeling her husband hadn't yet realized that in banishing the man Samira loved, he'd banished his daughter as well.
* * *
"Farid, wait!"
Farid stopped at the sound of Samira's frantic voice. He and his two guards had just reached the palace's front entrance when she caught up with them.
She ran directly into his arms, burying her tearful face into the front of his jacket. "Oh, Farid. It was far worse than I expected," she cried. "I've never seen him so angry."
She raised her face from his jacket and gazed up at him. "We have to tell him the truth. We have to tell him that you aren't—"
"No." Farid said the word sharply, glancing at the two guards to see how much of the conversation they were taking in. "You made me a promise," he said in an urgent whisper. "And I will not release you from it right now. Perhaps later, when things calm down a bit."
Farid had suspected that Sheik Ahmed's legendary temper would explode and he'd been right. He'd prefer that Sheik Ahmed vent his rage on him, and not on his daughter.
If Sheik Ahmed learned the truth, Farid feared his rage would not only be directed at Desmond Caruso, but at Samira as well. The sheik would not be pleased that Samira had been seduced by a Montebellan right under the sheik's and the king and queen of Montebello's noses. Things were finally going well between the two countries. Peace was more important than Farid's own honor.
Farid was certain that Sheik Ahmed would have preferred that his daughter marry somebody from Tamir – just not her bodyguard.
"What are we going to do?"
He stroked a hand down her shining hair then grabbed her shoulders and held her away from him. "I'm going to my farm, and you're going to stay here. We'll see what happens when things cool down a bit."
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. He released her, oddly disappointed and unsure why. Without saying another word, he turned and continued out the palace doors.
It was better this way, he told himself as they stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. She belonged here, in the palace with her family. He shouldn't be surprised that she hadn't demanded she go with him to his farm. She would not go against her parents' wishes, and their wish was that she remain here.
Funny, her gentle nature and her revulsion for confrontation of any kind were two of the reasons he loved her. Ultimately, these were the characteristics that would destroy their marriage.
* * *
Samira sat in the window seat of her bedroom, nearly lost amid the thick throw pillows beneath her. The view below was of one of the palace's formal gardens and from her vantage point the flowers looked like bursts of color thrown down to the ground by an artistic genius.
She had often sat here as a young girl, wishing on stars in the night skies a
nd dreaming of love. She'd wished for a handsome, strong man who would fill her days and nights with laughter and love, a man who was honorable and would make a wonderful father to the children they would eventually have.
And wasn't that exactly what fate had sent her? Was Farid not handsome and strong, a man who'd brought her laughter, a man who would make a wonderful father? Had not all of her wishes been granted with him?
And now it seemed that she would be forced to choose between her family and the man that fate had brought into her life.
How she wished her sisters were here for her to talk to. Surely Leila or Nadia would know what she should do. But Leila was in Texas with her husband, Cade, and Nadia was with her husband in Penwyck meeting her in-laws. Samira had never felt so alone.
A knock fell on her door and she was unsurprised when her mother walked in. She rose from the window seat and went directly to her mother's arms.
Alima wrapped her in the kind of hug that only a mother could give, one infused with unconditional love. As the hug continued, tears burned at Samira's eyes. "Oh, mother, things are in such a mess," she said miserably as the hug ended.
Alima led her daughter to the bed and together they sat down, Samira's hands held by her mother's.
"You must talk to Father," Samira said. "Farid is a good man, Mother. He doesn't deserve to be banished from his job, from his life here at the palace."
"Samira, you must understand, you sprang this on us suddenly." Alima frowned and released Samira's hands. "In the months that Farid has been your bodyguard I've never seen a look pass between the two of you, a touch of any kind. This just seems to have happened so fast." Alima held Samira's gaze. "How far along is your pregnancy?"
Samira broke the gaze with her mother. "A couple of months," she replied. She had to hedge a bit, or her mother would wonder how Farid had gotten her pregnant before the two had spent any time together at all.
"Samira, your father is most angry with Farid right now. Your father personally chooses the men to serve as the family bodyguards, and Farid betrayed that trust."