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.
* * *
Chapter 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.
"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 mor
e 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.
SECRETS OF A PREGNANT PRINCESS Page 6