Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6

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Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Page 42

by Jennifer Lewis


  “I’m from a small town outside Abilene, originally, but I’ve been living in Midland the last few years.” Her lashes were pale, and fringed greenish-hazel eyes.

  “Oh.” His temperature seemed to rise with every passing second. His hand on her hip sent disturbing messages to his brain about how it would like to slide a little lower and explore the full curve of her backside. He told it to mind its own business and stay just where it was.

  “And show the woooorld you love him….” This song seemed to go on forever. Amahd hoped his growing arousal would be hidden by his thick sash and the dagger tucked in it. This woman was having a very disturbing effect on him. He really should get married and settle down soon. He hadn’t dated anyone in a long time—too busy—and apparently he’d developed some pent-up needs.

  A dimple appeared in her right cheek. “It was sweet of them to ask me to the wedding.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. You’re most welcome.” He had absolutely no idea who had invited her to the wedding, since none of his brothers or their almost-wives recognized her. But it didn’t matter. As long as he could get away from her with both of their dignity still intact he could forget he ever met her.

  She swayed her hips side to side in time to the music. He wished she’d stop doing that. It was distracting and made her breasts shift inside her flimsy camisole top. He couldn’t wait to get away from her before she accidentally brushed against him.

  Finally, to his immense relief, the song wound to a close and he managed to disengage himself from her. “Well, we did our job.” He was already backing away.

  “Yes, the dance floor is full now.” Couples crowded around them, jostling him as he attempted to retreat through them. “Thank you for the dance.” She flashed a pretty smile.

  “No, thank you.” This wasn’t very polite of him, but the truth was he had an erection to hide and he needed to get out of here. For the first time he truly appreciated the modesty of Ubarite dress and the way it shrouded a woman from head to toe. Not that many women in Ubar were full figured like this one, anyway.

  She stood staring after him, a half smile on that lush red mouth, as he beat his retreat and headed for the far side of the garden, where he could slink down a quiet colonnade toward the room his brothers had insisted he stay in for the night.

  He’d done his duty. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it. And he’d realized it was time to put some serious effort into finding his future wife.

  3

  Ronnie tried to stretch her back without anyone seeing. She wasn’t used to standing in high heels for so long, but Sam had rightly pointed out that a receiving line was the only sensible way to greet this many new arrivals. Guests still trickled in through the grand archway, but their numbers were thinning and the staff wheeling their impressive amounts of luggage had relaxed and started to laugh and talk amongst themselves. Everyone was getting into a party mood.

  Her fiancé seemed tireless as he greeted everyone from old friends to total strangers with the same easy warmth. Unflappable and outgoing, Zadir embodied all the social skills she lacked. It was hard to believe he’d fallen so hard in love with her at their first meeting that he’d paid sixty thousand dollars at a charity auction to see her again.

  Sam rushed toward her, making a T-sign with her fingers. “Time out! Fancy an escape?”

  “Definitely.” This was their signal to retreat to Sam’s comfortable office, where they could indulge in girl-talk without shocking the servants. They walked quickly down the corridor, smiling at the guests but hoping no one waylaid them.

  Sam closed the door and they collapsed into the stylish modern chairs. “Ronnie, am I overdoing it? Someone just called me a Christmas-zilla.”

  Ronnie laughed. “They probably didn’t want to call you a bridezilla.”

  “I freely admit that I’m guilty of that. I guess I didn’t realize how much it would mean to me to get all dressed up in a white poufy dress and say, ‘I do.’”

  “I know how you feel. I never really thought about getting married, but now that I am, I realized I have a lot of expectations. I don’t know what I’ll do if my dad doesn’t show up to give me away.”

  “He’s still not here yet?”

  “I haven’t seen him. My mom either. I’m worried that they ran into each other at the airport and World War Three has broken out. I’ve tried calling them both, but got no answer.”

  “You know what cell service is like here. Don’t worry. They’ll make it.”

  “But the wedding is tomorrow. What if they don’t? And what about our dresses? When are we going to try them on? What if they don’t fit?”

  “Oh my gosh.” Sam’s face blanched. “I forgot all about the dresses.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed a number. “I hope I can get hold of them this late.” She spoke slowly in the local dialect, and repeated herself a couple of times before she finally nodded. “Okay, tomorrow. First thing.” Still spoken in the Ubarite dialect, those were the only words Veronica understood.

  “They’re not ready?”

  “Something about the fabric not arriving until yesterday. The whole workshop is going to be working on them all night. At least Zadir and Osman have tuxes already,”

  They’d decided to get married in western dress, rather than the multicolor sparkle-fest of Ubarite costume, partly because that’s how they’d imagined their weddings since they were little. They’d forgone the traditional bridesmaids and maids of honor though. That seemed way too hard to organize with everyone coming from abroad. “I should check on the flowers.”

  Ronnie wanted to help. “Why don’t you give me the number and I’ll do that?”

  “Don’t worry about it. They know me so it’ll be easier if I just call.” Sam was already punching the numbers into her phone. Ronnie had noticed that she was rather a control freak. Probably it came from producing small budget productions where she was expected to do everything, but it made Ronnie feel like she wasn’t pulling her weight.

  She should be surprised that anyone answered their phone at this hour—it was already dark—but almost everyone in Ubar was at least somewhat involved in the big royal wedding celebration happening tomorrow. After talking for a few minutes in the local language, Sam hung up, shaking her head. “Why is it that if you can order forty different varieties of roses, but if you want a poinsettia, you have to order it from abroad?”

  Ronnie shrugged. “I’m happy with roses.”

  “They’re not very Christmassy. Heck, they’re not at all Christmassy. At least the holly I ordered from France finally showed up, but the staff can’t figure out what to do with it. The poor girl trying to arrange it in vases kept pricking herself.”

  Ronnie lifted a brow. “You are a Christmas-zilla.”

  “Only a little. And the greenery does look so pretty everywhere.”

  “Zadir kisses me every time we walk under mistletoe.”

  “Soon it’ll be impossible to walk anywhere without going under mistletoe. I have a feeling we’re going to have to resort to weed killer after this is over.”

  “No way! The butterflies are so pretty.”

  “True. I never thought I’d associate butterflies with Christmas, but now I don’t think it will ever feel like Christmas without them.”

  “They’re an unexpected surprise. Kind of like meeting and marrying a man from Ubar.”

  “Or a king from Ubar.” Sam laughed. “Though if I had any idea what I was in for I might have run a mile. I can’t get through a single day lately without someone asking me if I’m pregnant. All Osman’s relatives are eyeing my belly and muttering to each other. You’d think my only role in life was to provide a royal heir.”

  “Don’t worry, it will happen.”

  “And now my mom is here, bursting with her own pregnancy. Can you believe it? I bet she did IVF, though she’d never admit it. I love her but she’s completely crazy.”

  “You turned out sane so I’m sure the new little one will as well. Zadi
r and I are hoping for some good news soon, too.” She smiled nervously. They’d stopped using contraception a few weeks ago, even though they weren’t quite married yet.

  Of course she had nothing to report yet either. “Maybe getting pregnant isn’t as easy as it seems.”

  “Unless you’re desperate not to.” Sam sighed.

  “Isn’t that how it always works? Still, for some reason I thought it would happen right away.”

  “Me too,” Sam admitted. “It’s humbling to have to let nature take its course. In the meantime I’m trying to control everything else with an iron fist.” She poured them glasses of juice from the fridge. “So here’s to us being Bride-zillas and Christmas-zillas until we have something else to obsess about.”

  Ronnie clinked her glass against Sam’s. “It’s pretty awesome that I have a sister now.”

  “I thought you were an only child, like me?”

  “I’m talking about you, silly.” It was a big admission that she felt so close to Sam. Ronnie didn’t often share her feelings, but Sam deserved to know how much she appreciated her.

  Sam’s mouth fell open. Then snapped shut. Her deep blue eyes filled with tears.

  Ronnie gulped. Had she said the wrong thing? “I meant it in a good way. I’ve never had a friend I could be so blunt with before.”

  “Me either.” She leaned forward and gave Ronnie a hug.

  A knock on the door startled them both.

  “Come in,” they called in unison.

  A frightened looking male servant peered around the door and stammered in the local dialect. “Miss Veronica, there’s someone here to see you.”

  Ronnie gasped. “My mom!” Then she frowned. “Or my dad.” She gulped. “Or both. I’d better go.”

  4

  “How’s my princess?” Ronnie’s dad kissed her on both cheeks, and her chest filled with joy.

  “You made it!” She’d been growing increasingly nervous since it got dark.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” As always, he wore a long cashmere coat over a grey suit. “I’d never miss my little girl’s wedding. You remember Anushka?”

  “Of course.” She hoped she wasn’t expected to kiss her “stepmother”, who was one year her junior, on her rosy cheek. “Nice to see you again.” They shook hands. Really, she had nothing against this woman, though she knew her mom was unlikely to feel the same way.

  “Anushka’s pregnant!” Her dad’s smile shone in his dark complexion. “Isn’t that great?”

  “Wow. Yes. That is exciting.” Panic clutched her gut. Would this baby be her sister? So far her father had resisted all his wives’ attempts to get him to reproduce, so in fact it would be her only sister. “Let’s celebrate. I’ll go get us some punch.”

  It was a relief to duck away. She needed a moment. Now her mom was really going to go ballistic. She’d tried many times to convince her dad to give Ronnie a sister, and he’d steadfastly refused.

  Ronnie retrieved three glasses from the punch bowl station, and hurried back. “When are you due?”

  “Six weeks.” Anushka had a deep, sultry voice with an Eastern European accent. “Though you’d never know it to look at me.” She waved a ringed hand over her still-svelte body. Her giant bust threw everything else into shadow. “Shapewear. I’m going to bring out a line of it next year.”

  “Wow. That’s great.” Ronnie blinked.

  “Anushka is a hand model,” added her dad. “She’s been able to work right through the pregnancy. She uses herbs to prevent water retention.”

  “Maybe you’ll be able to give me some tips when I decide to have a baby.” Ronnie wasn’t going to admit to anyone but Sam that she was already trying. Apparently everyone here was blossoming with life, except the brides.

  “Oh, you must definitely have a baby.” Anushka swatted a butterfly off her glass. “If you like I could teach you some really cool tricks for your wedding night. To make sure the little sperms can swim all the way up to your egg.”

  “Uh.” Ronnie stared, unable to form words. “Maybe later.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a giant rolling cart piled high with Louis Vuitton luggage.

  Her mom.

  Sam hurried along the corridor, anxious to tell people that the buffet dinner was being served in the main dining room. They’d decided to abandon the usual “rehearsal dinner” since people were arriving from all different time zones and would be hungry at different times. The servants had already been through making announcements, but their English was experimental at best and she couldn’t be sure anyone would understand them.

  As she knocked on the door to one friend’s room, the hallway lights went out. Flaming torches on the wall kept her from being plunged into total darkness. A shriek echoed along the hallway.

  Uh-oh. She pulled out her phone and called the maintenance manager. Who didn’t answer his phone. She called Osman. “Sweetie, I hate to bother you, but do you know what’s going on with the lights?”

  She could hear Osman speaking rapidly to someone in the local language. She’d been studying it for months now but it was so complicated and seemed to be composed of about twenty other languages—none of which she knew—so learning it would be a lifetime’s work.

  “The power’s gone down.”

  “I can see that.” They lost power several times a week. Usually the event was invisible. “What about the backup generators?”

  “They’ve run out of fuel. Iskar forgot that we’d have lights blazing all through the palace. They’ve sucked every drop from the tanks.”

  “And I don’t suppose he’ll be able to buy more at this time of night.” Ubar ground to a standstill at dusk. “I guess I should have ordered flashlights for everyone.”

  “Don’t worry, my love. Ubar has been lit by flaming torches for thousands of years.”

  “I know, but our guests aren’t used to that. And I told Iskar not to light the torches in the guest rooms because they’re a fire hazard when people aren’t careful.”

  Guests emerged from the dark rooms, tripping over their eveningwear and stumbling into the flickering half-light of the hallway.

  “We’ll manage. It’ll be more romantic this way.”

  She let out a breath. Osman never let the “small stuff” get to him. Of course her job was to sweat the small stuff so it didn’t turn into big stuff, but this time she planned to listen to his advice. “You’re right.” Guests crowded around her. She couldn’t remember even half of their names. “I’ll bring everyone down to the dining room so we can enjoy a candlelit dinner.”

  “Mom!” Ronnie rushed toward her mother. Who vanished as darkness descended on the main hallway. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust enough for her to pick her way through the crowds. “Mom, where are you?”

  “I’m here, darling.”

  Her mom’s deep, raspy voice filled her with emotion and she was glad the darkness hid the tears filling her eyes. “Oh my goodness, you have no idea how glad I am that you’re here.”

  “Nothing on earth would make me miss my baby’s wedding.” Her mom hugged her to her ample bosom and Ronnie drew in her mom’s familiar scent of Chanel no.5 and gourmet chocolates.

  “Why have we been plunged into darkness? Is the curtain about to go up?” Her mom saw the whole world in stage terms, even though she hadn’t been on one in decades. As usual she was dressed like a diva in satin and sequins. She refused to own a single item of clothing that didn’t sparkle.

  Ronnie laughed. “No. The electricity has probably been overwhelmed by the celebration. Come in and let’s find you a glass of champagne. The staff will know what to do with your bags.” The sudden darkness was a stroke of luck. Now her mom wouldn’t be able to see Ronnie’s father unless he came right over to her. If she could get her mom settled in and relaxed, things were far more likely to go well.

  “Thank God you were sensible enough not to ask your father! I still can’t believe he married a woman younger than his own daughter. That should be ill
egal.”

  “Uh.” Ronnie’s heart crumpled in her chest. It wasn’t like she could keep her dad a secret forever. He was going to give her away tomorrow. Still, her mom had only just arrived. No need to upset her already. “Let’s go get your hands hennaed! It’s an Ubarite tradition that all the women at a wedding get decorated.” Her dad’s hand-model wife was unlikely to be there, since henna took weeks to fade completely away. “We can do it together. It’ll be fun.”

  “Shouldn’t I at least find my room and—”

  “No, don’t worry about that. I’ll take you there later. You’re in the room right next to mine and there’s probably chaos in the corridor as the servants go around with lanterns. Much better to stay out of their way.”

  “If you say so, baby. It certainly is wonderful to see you, even if I can’t really see you right now.” Ronnie held fast to her mom’s hand as they wove through the knots of people. Her eyes adjusted to the flickering lights from the torches on the walls, which were the only light source on a normal night. She led her into the comfortable sitting room, where three girls were painting the female guests’ hands with intricate patterns.

  “Where’s that handsome husband of yours? Are you sure he’s not going to break your heart?” Her mom looked up from having her palm painted with tiny swirls. “I’m very suspicious of a man who’s that good looking.”

  “That was exactly my reaction when I first met him. I thought he seemed like trouble.” Ronnie grinned. “But he has me convinced that he’s madly in love with me and will cherish me forever.”

  Her mom sighed. “That’s what I thought, once upon a time, before your dad destroyed my faith in men.”

  “Mom, all men are different. I’ve learned that I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I can’t make assumptions about men based on someone completely different.”

 

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