Her Desert Prince (Desert Destiny Series Book 1)

by Marie Tuhart

  Catherine flinched and hid behind the menu.

  “Prince Malik, Miss Taylor, look this way,” one of the reporters said.

  “You’ve been to the zoo and now the marketplace. Why such an eclectic tour?” yelled another.

  Malik swore. Catherine wished a sandstorm would swallow her. This was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t need the press around her.

  “Miss Taylor, how do your parents feel about your being with the crown prince?” The question was yelled, even as Malik’s bodyguards pushed the paparazzi back.

  Her hands began to shake. Oh, no, this couldn’t be happening. Catherine closed her eyes and tried to find the calm place within, but it wasn’t there. Thoughts jumbled around in her brain, along with fear and dread.

  She fought against the urge to run and bit her lower lip, trying to find a way to control her emotions. Everything had been fine until she came to Bashir and met Malik. The press had left her alone for more than a year now. Why hadn’t she left when she’d found out who he was?

  Because she was a professional, and she had a job to do. She wouldn’t let the children down, let alone her manager. But her mental well-being was on the line.

  “Catherine?” Malik said, concern lacing his tone.

  She ignored him and found the small, safe place inside her mind. There, nothing could hurt or touch her. She lowered the menu and looked at him. “I’d like to go back to the palace now.” Her voice was devoid of all emotion as she stood.

  Malik followed suit, signaling Samir. But when he tried to take her arm, she shied away. No, she couldn’t handle him touching her right now, because she’d sink into his warm and tender care. She refused to give the press more fodder.

  The paparazzi were still shouting questions and snapping pictures when she and Malik climbed into the car Samir had brought around.

  “Catherine,” Malik started as the vehicle drove away from the press.

  “No.” She put a hand up to stop his words. “I can’t talk right now.” Catherine scooted to the far side of the seat and stared out the window without seeing anything. She kept her face blank and her hands clasped together in her lap as they returned to the palace.

  Once they arrived, she barely waited for her door to be opened and quickly made her way inside and up to her room. Unable to settle down, she paced the living room area. The day that had started out with so much promise was now a disaster. Well, almost. She’d discovered Malik was a tender, caring man, and darn if her heart didn’t stutter each time she was with him.

  It had to stop. She was here to do a job.

  Striding over to the French doors, she opened them and stepped out onto the balcony. Her heart might want Malik, but her mind couldn’t handle the chaos that came with him. Were the paparazzi already making connections? They’d asked her about her parents. A simple question, but one she knew wouldn’t stay that way once they started digging. It wouldn’t take much more time before they connected other dots.

  Once they latched onto a story, they’d keep digging, and they’d find out about Jamie. She didn’t want to relive her horrid childhood with her parents nor Jamie’s death. She didn’t want to see the sympathy in Malik’s eyes or have him feel the need to defend her.

  She’d done nothing wrong except lose her temper. She needed to get her emotional wall back up. That’s all there was to it. Wall up, Malik out. She couldn’t risk letting Malik behind that wall again. Nope, it was time to fortify it with stronger stones.

  Catherine squeezed her eyes shut. But she didn’t want to shut him out. That was part of the problem. She wanted to see where this attraction for him went. With a shake of her head, she marched back inside her room. Concentrate on your work and nothing else, she told herself. Grabbing her bag, she pulled out her sketchpad and dumped the rest of the contents on the desk. The sooner she finished the job, the sooner she could leave with her heart and soul intact.

  Malik cursed under his breath, not only for the paparazzi and their intrusion, but because they’d pushed Catherine back into her shell. He and Catherine had had a perfect day until that point. Who had tipped the press off?

  Oh, it wasn’t unusual for the press to follow him around during official functions, but today had been anything but official, and only those close to him had known about the outing.

  Yes, someone at the zoo or marketplace could have called the press as well, but it seemed unlikely. The people would not have told the press where he was; they were forever shooing them off when they followed him. It had to be someone who knew his habits. He always went to Belim’s for coffee and a snack when he was in town. Maybe someone from there or maybe someone from inside the palace.

  His brothers and parents wouldn’t have said anything. It was possible a servant could have accidentally let something slip. Malik clenched his hands. Damn paparazzi. He turned and strode down the hallway to his father’s office. His father was sitting at his desk.

  “Who else knew I was taking Catherine out today?” Malik asked the instant he walked into the office.

  His father’s head snapped up. “What happened?”

  “Paparazzi.”

  “You knew this was a possibility.”

  “Not today.” Malik paced around his father’s office. “Only the family and security were aware of this trip. I want to know who tipped them off.” He was shouting, but he didn’t care. Someone had hurt Catherine, and he wanted their head for it.

  “Malik, calm down.”

  “How can I?” He glared at his parent. His father hadn’t seen Catherine retreat inside herself once again. “Catherine is upset, her day ruined by the paparazzi, and I’m positive she’ll be in her room for the rest of the day.”

  “And you, son, need to clear your head of emotions and start thinking logically. Who has the most to gain by exposing her to the press?” His father’s voice was calm.

  Malik took a deep breath, then let it out. His father was right. His emotions were tying him up in knots. Flopping onto a chair, he stared at his father. “I have no idea.”

  “Then let us discuss it. Tell me about your day.”

  For two hours they went over every detail of the day, and nothing stood out. Neither one of them could find an answer. When Omar strode into the room, Malik barely bit back a groan.

  “What is it now?” He’d had enough of this man for the day.

  “Tomorrow’s papers.” Omar set them on Malik’s father’s desk. “You will not like them.”

  Malik picked up the first paper and read the headline. “Royal Artist Betrayed Her Family.” What the hell?

  He started reading the article. “The parents of Catherine Taylor, a British citizen, have come forward explaining that their daughter has forsaken them because she doesn’t share their values. They have also expressed their daughter may have some mental issues stemming from the death of her lover, singer Jamie Monroe.”

  Malik threw the paper down and picked up the next one, and then the next. All of them were along the same theme. That wasn’t Catherine at all. What kind of crap were these people shoveling to a willing press? He looked his father in the eye. “What’s the plan?”

  “We don’t have much of a choice. We replace this story with a bigger one. We announce your engagement to Catherine.”

  “She hasn’t agreed to it.” Malik rubbed his forehead; he didn’t like this at all.

  “The crown prince is correct, Your Majesty. Ms. Taylor doesn’t seem to like the idea of an engagement, even a fake one,” Omar said.

  “I know, but we don’t have a choice in the matter now. We have to stop the rumors, the innuendo. Catherine shouldn’t suffer because the paparazzi can’t tell a real story from a fake.”

  “So, basically, damage control,” Malik said, not liking the idea of doing this without Catherine’s permission, but she’d been upset and right now he didn’t want to upset her more. But his father was right, if they didn’t nip this in the bud, it would grow even bigger. Give the press a bigger story, and the
y’d forget this one. At least they could control the narrative over the engagement.

  “Yes. Let’s get this drafted up,” the king said.

  “Your Majesty, I strongly object,” Omar said.

  “Noted, but this will be done by my orders. No more arguments.”

  Malik nodded. Catherine might be upset with them, but it was the only way to protect her now. And he would protect her the best he could. “Let’s get this done.”

  13

  The next morning, Catherine glanced up at the hospital walls. Outlines barely visible to the naked eye now graced the blank walls. Raising her arms above her head, she tried to stretch the kinks out.

  She’d left the palace yesterday—okay, left wasn’t the right word—she’d snuck out. Years of experience had taught her how to get past bodyguards and escape. She’d found a weakness in the garden and used it to her advantage. Once free, she’d taken her time and walked to the hospital. It really wasn’t that far from the palace, and the exercise had done her some good.

  She’d spent most of the night working on the mural, catching a few hours’ sleep early this morning before resuming her work. Now she had a sense of peace within her, as she always did when she worked. Pausing, she looked over at Zain, who sat in the middle of the floor watching her.

  “What do you think, Zain?” He’d been with her all morning, never saying a word but staying close to her.

  And while Zain had slipped behind her protective wall, that was okay. He was a child, and he couldn’t hurt her. Not like Malik could.

  “Yeah, I know,” she continued as if Zain had answered her. “It doesn’t look like much now, but tomorrow I’ll start painting, and then it will take shape.”

  “Only if you’re still alive,” a familiar male voice whispered in her ear.

  Catherine’s heart stopped beating, and when it restarted, it pounded in triple time. She angled her head, staring into Malik’s dark eyes.

  A flame of anger and … passion flared within them.

  “Hi,” she said, starting to move away from him, but he captured her by the shoulders and held her in place.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He smiled at Zain. “Hey, Zain. Hassan is going to take you back to your room. I need to talk with Catherine.”

  Zain nodded, and Catherine watched as Hassan led the little boy out of the room. Then she noticed Malik’s two other brothers were there, along with most of his security staff.

  “We’ll give you some privacy,” Rafi said, nudging Khalid before they all filed out.

  The air vibrated in the silence. Catherine’s muscles screamed at being held so rigidly, but she wasn’t about to move. She didn’t want to disturb the sleeping tiger that was Malik, because she had a feeling he was ready to pounce the second she did.

  “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?” She forced herself to breathe naturally.

  “For what?” Malik stared at her. His eyes were still blazing, but his hold on her shoulders relaxed slightly.

  “For whatever has you so upset.”

  “What has me upset?” Malik shook his head. “I really want to shake some sense into you, but I’m so relieved at finding you safe my anger is draining away.”

  “Of course I’m safe.”

  Malik took a deep breath, inhaling her unique scent. “Do you know you have the entire household in an uproar?” He slid his hands from her shoulders and down her arms to her waist. Slipping them around her, he secured her close to him. If he had it his way, she’d be in his arms from now on, where he could be sure she was safe.

  “Why?” She twisted her head back and stared up at him.

  “Why? After you went upstairs yesterday, I didn’t expect to see you for the rest of the day, but this morning when you didn’t show up for breakfast, we all became concerned. Imagine my mother’s surprise and fear when she went to your room, and not only found it empty, but your bed hadn’t been slept in, and the balcony doors were wide open.”

  “I left the balcony doors open?” She didn’t remember shutting them, so it was possible. Catherine squirmed in his embrace, but he wasn’t releasing her. “I couldn’t settle down and figured I’d work on the mural. I did leave a note,” she said.

  “Yes, but it took myself and Khalid to find it. And a note that just said, “Don’t worry.” Did you not think to call when you got to the hospital, or something?”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft.

  “Samir is blaming himself.”

  “It’s not his fault.” She bit her lower lip.

  “Security is tight, and later you will tell us how you managed to get past them, because it never should have happened.” Malik lowered his head until his lips brushed against her ear. “Even with the note. We didn’t know if you’d been kidnapped or something worse. Not only is my security team on alert, but the entire security force of the city. Thankfully, one of the nurses thought to call Hassan a little while ago when she saw you without Samir.”

  “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause anyone to worry about me. That was never my intention.” She strained away from him, but Malik wasn’t about to let her escape. Not now. Not ever. He’d made his decision in the frantic hours of that morning when trying to find her. Part of his heart had been ripped away at the thought of something happening to her.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled. The scent of honey invaded his senses. Turning her in his embrace, he gazed down at her.

  “I know it wasn’t your intention, but we were worried. Why did you come to the hospital?”

  “I wanted to lose myself in my work.” Her gaze skidded away from his. She wasn’t telling him the full story.

  “And not face the paparazzi or my family?” She ducked her head. “I don’t blame you, but by running away, you’ve made things worse.” Her head snapped up, his words finally getting her full attention.

  “How?”

  “I will explain when we get back to the palace.”

  “Explain now.”

  The stubborn look on her face told him she wouldn’t budge until he told her. “Rafi,” he called out.

  No matter what his brothers had said about leaving them alone, they’d stay within shouting range. Catherine’s disappearance had jolted all of them out of their comfort zones. Maybe they needed to be jolted, as they’d become a little too complacent. Including security. Khalid was not happy.

  “What do you need?” Rafi stuck his head inside the door.

  “Would you please bring me the morning papers?”

  Rafi nodded and disappeared.

  Malik didn’t want to let Catherine go, but in order for her to see what her running had done, he would have to. He removed his arms from around her waist as his brother brought several folded newspapers to him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure.” Rafi glanced at Catherine. “Don’t be too hard on him,” he said before walking back to stand by the door.

  “What is he talking about?” She had taken a couple of steps back.

  “We had a plan in place, and we were prepared to discuss it with you, but your leaving made us switch to plan B.”

  “Why did you need a plan?”

  Malik held his tongue and instead opened the first paper. He handed it to her and waited for the explosion.

  Catherine took the paper. He watched her face as she read the headline. He already knew what it said. She hadn’t given him a choice.

  14

  “The king and queen have announced Crown Prince Malik’s engagement to Miss Catherine Taylor. The engagement party will be held at a later date.”

  Catherine took a deep breath after reading the headline. What the hell?

  “Surprise,” Malik said.

  “Surprise?” Catherine choked back hysterical laughter. “How about untrue, unfounded, totally ridiculous, and downright crazy?”

  Laughter erupted. From the doorway, Rafi said, “She’s not going to be a pushover, brother.”

  “I never thought she would be.”


  Catherine swallowed hard as Malik took the paper from her shaking hands and took one of her hands in his. “I can explain what is happening.”

  She thought about refusing, but as she stared at Malik, there were fine lines of strain around his eyes and mouth. Her anger at the press headlines drained out of her. Hell, the press was always making stuff up. She couldn’t blame Malik for what they did. She had to shoulder some of the blame. She was the one who had run off and put the royal household in an uproar. But why this announcement? Was this a typical paparazzi game or a game on Malik’s part?

  “Okay, explain.”

  With a nod, he turned to the door. “Out,” he said to Rafi, who scrambled out the doorway. Malik turned back to face her.

  “It wasn’t easy for me to make the announcement.” He squeezed her fingers, his dark eyes brewing a minor storm.

  “Why did you make it at all? The press had enough to make up crap on their own, why feed them this lie?”

  He sighed and released her hand. “For several reasons.” He slid another set of newspapers from under his arm and handed them to her. “What you are seeing here is what the headlines would have been if I hadn’t made the announcement.”

  Catherine glanced at the first paper and swayed.

  Front and center was a picture of her parents, with the headline, “Our Daughter Has Betrayed Us.” She closed her eyes, praying for strength, then opened them and flipped to the next paper. The headline screamed, “Is Prince Malik Unfit to Be King?” while the first lines of the article read, “Tribal leaders concerned about his relationship with artist.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t need to read any more. This was bad, very bad. She was destroying Malik’s reputation and that of his family. And her parents? Attention-seeking, narcissistic idiots. The warmth of Malik’s hands covering hers caused her to raise her gaze to his. Instead of the disgust she expected to see, there was only concern.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. Well, except for running.” He leaned closer to her. “Kalif, one of the tribal leaders, has been trying for years to overthrow my father. He saw you as the way to try and convince people I am not worthy to take over my father’s position when he decides to step down.”