Josie smiled and rubbed her pregnant tummy. “We’re doing just fine.”
“It must be so exciting to know that in a few months you’re going to have a new baby,” Cara said. Her heart expanded as she thought of carrying Omar’s child inside her. What a wonderful miracle that would be.
“It is,” Josie agreed, then looked down at the sleeping Lena. “Loving this baby inside me makes me wonder what on earth could possess her mother to abandon her.” She looked back at Cara and smiled. “But talk about exciting! I can’t believe you’re going to marry Sheik Al Abdar and fly off to Gaspar to live.”
“He thinks I’m Fiona.” The words fell from Cara’s mouth before she even knew she was going to confess her secret to Josie.
“What?” Josie leaned forward in her chair and eyed her with surprise.
Suddenly Cara wanted, needed to talk to somebody about the whole mess. She quickly explained to Josie about Omar being drawn to Fiona the night of the cotillion, and writing letters to Fiona for a year.
She told her pretty blond sister-in-law that Fiona had quickly tired of the correspondence and that Cara had taken over, answering each of the sheik’s letters as if she was her sister.
“Needless to say I was shocked when he showed up on my doorstep with a marriage proposal,” she said.
“So he still thinks you’re Fiona?” Josie asked. “How is that possible? Does he call you Fiona?”
Cara shook her head. “I signed the letters Elizabeth, and that’s what he calls me. And now I’m afraid to tell him the truth.”
“Why? It’s obvious he was quite taken with your letters, enough so that he decided to ask you to marry him.”
Cara sighed. “He’s also quite taken with the memory of Fiona that night at the cotillion, and I’m not sure who he’s in love with—the woman who flirted and danced with every man at that dance, or the woman who wrote the letters. I love him, Josie, and I’m scared to death that if I tell him the truth I’ll lose him.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
She bit her lip. “I have a month before the wedding to tell him. I keep thinking that the more time we spend together, the better he’ll take it when I finally tell him the truth. I’m hoping I can make him forget about the woman at the dance that night, and that he’ll realize it’s me—Cara—that he loves.”
Josie reached out, grabbed Cara’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I hope it works out the way you want it to, Cara. Honestly, I’ve never seen you look so happy. If you and your sheik have half the marriage Flynt and I do, then, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.”
Cara returned the squeeze, then released Josie’s hand. “There have been so many times in the past that guys have tried to get close to me just to be near Fiona. Or I’ve had an interest in a man, only to discover he’s dated my sister and is still carrying a torch for her. If I tell Omar the truth too quickly, I’m afraid he’ll walk away without a backward glance.”
Josie’s green eyes twinkled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
Cara grinned ruefully. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Maybe both.”
“Well, your secret is safe with me, but you’d better not wait too long to tell him. Sooner or later somebody in town or around here is going to call you Cara.”
That was Cara’s biggest fear. Over the past three days, thankfully, most of the time she had spent with Omar had been in his suite at the hotel, except for one evening when they had dinner with her parents.
Both Ford and Grace had abided by her wishes and had referred to her as Elizabeth throughout the evening. Ford had also made it clear to Omar that he expected his “little girl” to be allowed to fly home to visit whenever she wanted.
Omar had assured the Carson patriarch that he would never keep her away from the family she so obviously loved.
And in those three days, time and time again, Cara had tried to find the words to tell Omar the truth. But it seemed each time she got up the nerve to confess, something conspired to keep her silent. The phone would ring or a waiter would appear, and Cara would swallow her confession, vowing that she’d find a better place, a better time.
She now sat in the back of the limo that was carrying her from her cottage to Omar’s hotel for lunch. She’d been surprised the driver had come to the door rather than Rashad.
In the past week she had come to like the little man with his wicked sense of humor and infectious smile. The trips to and from the hotel were made more enjoyable by Rashad’s company.
And in the past three days her love for Omar had grown stronger. He was all she had ever dreamed of in a man. Each time he kissed her it grew more and more difficult to stand by her conviction to wait until their wedding night to make love with him. She hoped there would be a wedding night.
When they arrived at the hotel, Rashad was waiting for her just inside the lobby. “I regret that I was unable to accompany you today,” he said as he walked with her to the elevator.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, noting the lines of tension that tightened his wizened features.
“Fine, fine,” he said, but his taut smile told her otherwise. He handed her the key to reach the penthouse suite.
She rode alone in the elevator, but when the door opened into the suite, Omar wasn’t there waiting for her. From the bedroom she could hear his voice. It was obvious he was on the phone, and the conversation was not pleasant.
“You tell them we are a small country, but we are not a stupid country.” His voice held a power and authority she’d never heard before. “They are not negotiating, they are toying with us, and until they make a reasonable offer, I will no longer discuss anything with them.”
Cara stood just inside the living room, uncomfortable over the fact that Omar wasn’t aware of her presence. She heard him slam down the receiver, then pick it up once again.
“Rashad,” he said. “Get me a copy of all of our trade agreements, particularly the ones dealing with Kyria, and bring it to me immediately.”
Again she heard the crash of the receiver into the cradle, then he exited the bedroom. His mouth was a tight slash of fury and his eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them. His nostrils were flared, and the air around him seemed to pulsate with energy.
In that instant, Cara knew she was seeing Omar the Sheik. Power radiated from him, the powerful arrogance of a man accustomed to getting his way, the commanding assurance of a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it.
The moment he saw her, he visibly relaxed. “My dear,” he said as he strode across the room and took her hand in his. “I apologize. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” she replied.
“You could only be a pleasant interruption.” He led her to the sofa, where she sat while he remained standing. “As usual, you look positively gorgeous today.”
“Thank you, but it sounds like you have more important things to attend to than lunch with me.”
His eyes were gentle as he gazed at her. “And what could be more important than lunch with my fiancée?”
“Oil negotiations that will affect the future of your country,” she replied. “We can have lunch together tomorrow, Omar, if now isn’t a good time.”
He smiled and leaned over to stroke a finger down her cheek. “Each day that we spend time together you do something to confirm how right I am to want you as my wife,” he said softly. “And you just did it again.”
The look in his eyes, the seductive quality of his voice and the heat of his caress made Cara feel as if she were melting inside. “I’m serious, Omar. If this is not a good time for you, we can arrange something for later.”
“Unfortunately, there might not be a later,” he replied. A soft bell indicated the arrival of the elevator. The doors opened to reveal Rashad, a sheath of papers in his hand.
Omar took the papers from Rashad and clapped the small man on the back. “Thank you, Rashad. I’m sorry if I’ve been brusque with
you this morning.”
Rashad gave him a little bow, his dark eyes sparkling with impish humor. “I am at your disposal, Sheik Al Abdar, even when you have the mood of an ill-tempered camel.”
Omar laughed, the deep, rich sound filling every chamber of Cara’s heart. “I should have you beheaded for impudence,” Omar said good-naturedly.
“Ah, but you would miss my impudence,” Rashad replied with a toothy grin. With a bow, he turned and got back into the elevator.
“I like him,” Cara said.
Omar joined her on the sofa and placed the papers on the coffee table before them. “He’s impertinent and outspoken and can nag worse than an old woman, and I don’t know what I would do without him.”
“He mentioned that he worked for your father before working for you.”
Omar nodded. “Rashad has been a trusted member of the Al Abdar family for as long as I can remember. But enough about him. I have more pressing matters on my mind. I fear our oil negotiations have completely broken down and I must return to Gaspar.”
Thick disappointment overwhelmed her. “When?” she asked.
“I should leave immediately, but I would wait until tomorrow if you would go with me as my wife.” He reached out and took her hands in his. “Marry me, Elizabeth. Marry me this afternoon, right now, and go home with me tomorrow. I don’t want to return to Gaspar without you at my side.” He squeezed her hands, his eyes compelling her to acquiesce to his wishes.
Cara’s heart thudded frantically in her chest as she felt herself falling into the beautiful depths of his eyes. Tell him, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her head. Tell him now.
“We can marry immediately and spend our wedding night here, then fly to Gaspar first thing tomorrow as husband and wife,” he said. He pulled her into his arms, his mouth mere inches from hers. “Say yes, Elizabeth. Don’t make me wait any longer to make you mine.”
“Yes.” The word hissed out of her on a sigh, and before she could fully accept what she’d just agreed to his lips were on hers, sweeping any doubts, any hesitation away with the mastery and force of the kiss.
When the kiss ended, she wasn’t sure if she had just taken the first step into seeing her every dream come true, or just made the biggest mistake of her life.
The next hour went by in a blur. One minute Omar was kissing her in his penthouse suite, the next minute they were standing in a small lobby, awaiting the justice of the peace who was going to marry them.
Things were moving too fast, way too fast, and Cara didn’t know how to slow them down. Her handsome sheik was sweeping her off her feet, and she was allowing him to do so.
“Omar, before we do this I really need to tell you something,” she said with a touch of desperation.
At that moment Rashad burst through the door, his arms filled with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “Ah, Rashad, I feared you wouldn’t make it in time,” Omar said as he took the bouquet from his assistant’s arms.
He held the lovely flowers out to Cara. “I could not have my bride getting married to me without a proper bridal bouquet.”
His voice was a warm, deep caress as he explained, “The violets stand for faithfulness, the daisies are for innocence, the lilies are for purity and, of course, the roses are for love.”
Cara looked at him, awed by the obvious thought that had gone into the bouquet. Tears burned her eyes. “Omar, I’m afraid,” she blurted out. “I’m not the woman you think I am.”
The look he gave her was one of infinite tenderness, and he reached up and stroked the side of her cheek in a gesture that was becoming achingly familiar. “You are exactly the woman I think you are,” he said. “Every moment I have spent with you has only made me more certain that you are the woman I want by my side.”
At that moment Justice of the Peace Jerrold Walker motioned them into his office. Panic swelled inside Cara’s chest, and she knew she should call a halt to everything.
But at that moment Omar took her hand in his. In his dark, beautiful eyes she saw the promise of the future she’d always dreamed of. And even though she knew she should tell him the truth, she didn’t. She couldn’t.
It was all wrong, but she hoped and prayed that it would eventually turn out all right.
It had all been wrong, Omar thought as he and Elizabeth were pronounced man and wife. He gathered her into his arms to kiss her and saw the tears that shimmered in her eyes.
“We will marry again in Gaspar,” he said, believing he knew the reason for her tears. “And we will have your parents there, and your sister and brothers. It will be the wedding of your dreams, the wedding we didn’t have time for today.” He gave her no opportunity to reply, but instead claimed her mouth with his.
“That isn’t necessary,” she protested and with a small laugh of embarrassment she wiped away her tears. She was his now, bound to him through law and tradition. The woman who had bewitched him so long ago was now his bride, and the thought of possessing her completely filled him with a sweet rush of anticipation.
They left the justice of the peace and headed back to Omar’s hotel. But as the car pulled up out front, she turned to him.
“Omar, I need to go home and speak with my parents. And I have to pack and prepare for the trip to Gaspar.” She appeared overwhelmed. She raked a hand through her dark brown wavy hair, and he noticed that her fingers shook slightly.
“Don’t worry about packing too many things,” he told her and smiled. “You will discover that I am a generous, indulgent husband, and whatever you need or want, you will receive.”
“I still need to talk to my parents,” she said. “I need to tell them what we’ve done before they hear it from anybody else.
He nodded. “Of course. We’ll go directly to the ranch.”
“I know it sounds silly, but I’d like to speak with them alone.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “I would like some time to say goodbye.”
He realized how difficult this would be for her. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked gently, and she nodded. “Then, the car will take you there and the driver will wait until you are ready to return here.”
He drew her small hand into his. “But don’t take too long, my love.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Because I can’t wait to make love to you.”
She laughed, a shaky, breathless sound that stirred him. “If you don’t stop kissing my hand, we’ll make love right here in the back of the limo—and that’s not where I want to have my first experience.” Her cheeks grew pink.
The reminder of her innocence shot a burst of desire through him. He would be a good lover with her, gentle and patient, and he would hold his passion in check until she was ready to be an equal partner in that arena.
Moments later, as the car pulled away from the curb, Omar and Rashad returned to Omar’s suite, where Rashad began the task of packing and Omar stood at the window and stared out, thinking of the woman he’d just made his bride.
“You look troubled, Your Highness,” Rashad observed.
Omar nodded. “I’m troubled about the negotiations and eager to return to Gaspar.” He smiled at Rashad. “And I guess I’m a bit homesick. I’d like to counsel with my father and be back where I belong.”
“Your father will be happy that you’re returning a married man. I think he will approve of Elizabeth.”
Omar’s smile widened. “My father didn’t care whom I married, just that I got married.”
“He will consider it a bonus that you married a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate woman.”
Omar raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like somebody has a crush on my wife.” To his surprise, Rashad’s face reddened.
“She is a nice lady,” he replied.
“Yes, she is.” Omar turned back to the window, a smile curving his lips as he thought of Elizabeth. She was different than he’d remembered her.
The woman he had met at the cotillion so long ago had seemed brazen, utterly fearless and a little bit spoiled. He was thankf
ul that she had matured into a thoughtful, caring woman who would do him proud as his wife. He just hoped there was a touch of that brazen, adventurous woman still inside her. His blood heated as he thought of the night to come.
The phone rang, interrupting all thoughts of his wedding night. For the next two hours he was occupied with Gaspar business, taking first one phone call, then another.
“No more calls,” he said to Rashad when he finally hung up. There were things he wanted to do to prepare the suite for tonight. But before he could call room service and order what he wanted, the phone rang once again.
“I said no more calls,” he said, as Rashad held the receiver out to him.
“Beg your pardon, Your Highness, but I think you’ll want to take this one,” Rashad said. “It’s your wife.”
Omar took the phone. “Elizabeth, where are you, darling?”
“I just left the ranch, and my parents insisted they wanted to do something special for us for our wedding. I hope you don’t mind, Omar, but they got us the bridal suite at the Lone Star Country Club for the night. I’m here now, and I sent the car back to you. I didn’t know what to tell them, Omar,” she said, obviously worried about his reaction.
“I hope you told them thank you,” he replied.
“I did. And, Omar, I’ve ordered the champagne and I’ll be waiting for you in the hot tub.”
He grinned, his blood once again heating with anticipation. How could he have thought this woman was timid and not adventurous? “I’m on my way.”
Six
The bridal suite at the Lone Star Country Club was sumptuous. The living-room area held an elegant white sofa, the material shot through with gold-colored thread. The glass-top coffee table held an arrangement of fresh-cut flowers that filled the air with their perfume.
In one corner of the room was a wet bar, completely stocked, and in the opposite corner was a large sunken hot tub, the hot water spiraling steam upward.
Cara’s parents had initially been upset that she and Omar had sneaked off to the justice of the peace and gotten married. But they had quickly offered her their love and support, as she knew they would, and her father had made the arrangements for them to have this suite for the night.
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