The Desert Prince

by Jennifer Lewis

  Kira was now completely wiped out and—naturally—fell into a deep sleep just as the wheels touched down on the tarmac.

  “Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up!”

  Eventually she abandoned efforts at stirring Kira and managed to hoist the toddler onto her shoulder while wrestling with her purse, her large carry-on bag and Kira’s backpack filled with toys. As she stepped out of the arrival gate into the bright, gleaming airport, she had a momentary wish that she’d remembered to put on lipstick, but she shoved it to the back of her tired brain.

  Kira woke up as they went through Passport Control, and was begging for milk by the time they got her bag and walked out to where the waiting drivers and relatives stood behind a rope.

  Celia scanned the crowd, heart pounding. Salim had told her he’d meet them at the airport. Did he get cold feet? Kira’s tiny hand clutched hers tightly.

  Please don’t let her down.

  She’d told Kira they were coming to meet her father. Kira had been astonished at first, then delighted. Now the little girl toddled bravely beside her, looking distinctly worried.

  “Celia!” A low voice called from the rear of the crowd.

  She saw Salim push through, tall and regal, dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark pants. His eyes immediately swiveled to Kira, and he stared at her unabashedly. Then he ducked under the rope and walked up to them.

  They all stood there for a second, as Salim and Kira gazed at each other. He held out his hand. “You must be Kira. I’m pleased to meet you.” He spoke slowly, like someone talking in an unfamiliar language.

  Kira stared at his hand, alarm in her wide, dark eyes.

  “I don’t think she knows about shaking hands,” Celia blurted. “They don’t do that much at nursery school.”

  Salim withdrew his hand, and crouched down to Kira’s level. “How silly of me. Still, I am pleased to meet you.”

  Kira peered at him, frowning slightly. “Are you my daddy?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re very tall.”

  His face creased into a smile. “And so will you be, one day.”

  Salim looked as if he wanted to pick Kira up, but Celia hoped he wouldn’t try, because Kira’s hot little hand gripped hers like a clamp.

  “Maybe we should go get in the car,” she stammered. “It’s been a long flight.”

  “Good idea.” Salim stood and took Celia’s bag. “I drove here myself so we could be alone.” He glanced down at Kira, an odd sparkle in his eyes. “Just the three of us.”

  Celia did her best not to hyperventilate on the way out to the car. The Omani heat enveloped her in a warm hug as they left the chill of the airport.

  “It’s hot, Mama!”

  “Yes, sweetie. It’s always hot here.”

  “I like it.” A big smile spread across Kira’s face. “Look, palm trees. Like in Babar.” “Babar is a kids’ book series,” explained Celia to Salim.

  “I know.” Salim smiled as he held the rear door open for them. “I read them in French. My tutor brought them from Paris. I was always a big fan of Zephyr the monkey.” Celia laughed.

  “I like Zephyr, too,” said Kira, quite serious. “Are we in Paris?”

  “No, we’re in Salalah, Oman.”

  “Salalalalah.” Kira tried to wrap her tongue around the word.

  “Climb in, sweetie.” Celia prodded her gently. People swirled around them, and cars honked and weaved through the airport. Kira and Salim, however, felt no sense of urgency.

  “That’s right. Salalah. I know you’re going to love it here.”

  Kira finally climbed in. No car seat. Of course Salim wouldn’t have thought of it. Celia managed to buckled the lap belt over her and move the shoulder strap out of the way.

  Salim climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Kira watched intently out the window as they pulled away from the curb and out onto the streets of Salalah, with their crisp, whitewashed buildings. “Mama, are we going to live here now?”

  “Oh, no. We’re just visiting.” The words flew out of her mouth as the breath rushed from her lungs. She glanced at Salim and saw his brows lower.

  “But don’t people usually live with their daddies?” Kira glanced up, a frown puckering her tiny forehead.

  Her heart pounded like the jackhammer on a nearby street. “Some people do, and some people don’t. Everyone’s different.” Celia prayed for a change of subject.

  When they arrived at the hotel, Salim asked a porter to take their bags upstairs. Unbeknownst to Celia, who’d left her room a mess, he’d moved them into a vast penthouse suite with several bedrooms and a wraparound terrace with a panoramic view of the ocean.

  Kira ran around, exclaiming. “It’s a castle! I’m a princess!”

  “Don’t run so fast, sweetie!” called Celia. “The marble floor is slippery.”

  “She’ll be fine.” Salim beamed. “She’s full of energy after her long flight.”

  “She might fall and bang her head.”

  “Nonsense. She’s graceful as a gazelle.”

  Celia frowned. “Are we having our first parental argument?”

  Salim let out a snort of laughter. “I think we are. And in that case, you win.” He winked. “Kira, come here. I want to show you off to everyone. You can run around and frighten your mother later.”

  Kira took his offered hand. “Are you a king?”

  He grinned. “No. But you’re definitely a princess.”

  “I know. Mama calls me princess sometimes.” She smiled and twirled in the new pink dress she’d chosen. “I like living here.”

  Celia’s heart seized.

  Salim looked up, an expression of quiet triumph on his face.

  “This is Kira, my daughter.” Salim said it over and over again, as they walked around the hotel and grounds. Everyone, from the maids to the head chef, exclaimed over her and complimented her dress or her smile and sometimes even her stuffed bear. Kira handled it like a true princess, with charming thanks and giggles.

  Celia stumbled along, wondering what people were really thinking. They must be shocked that Salim had a daughter, yet no one gasped or started babbling nonsense. Had some informative memo been circulated?

  Kira’s hand, tight in her own, probably informed them of Celia’s role in the drama. What did they imagine was the story of her relationship with Salim? What did they think would happen next?

  She certainly had no idea.

  She should be happy that Kira seemed to settle in so well here. Instead, she felt a sense of foreboding. What if Kira didn’t want to leave and go back to their life in America? What if she wanted to stay here with Salim?

  Icy fear gnawed at her gut, but she hid it behind a bright smile.

  Salim strode around with the easy grace of a king. If he felt the slightest bit flustered by the odd circumstances, it was entirely invisible. Pride and obvious joy lit his handsome features and made him laugh readily.

  Whenever Kira saw something new, like a fountain, he’d stop and crouch down next to her, patiently explaining all the details of what it was and how it worked. He listened to her often outlandish questions and answered them with thoughtful consideration.

  Celia’s chest filled with happiness and anxiety as she watched Kira blossom in the strange new environment. Always talkative and friendly, her daughter was delighted by her bustling new surroundings and legions of admirers.

  She’d worried that Salim might want to keep their relationship secret, that he’d be circumspect about Kira’s origins.

  Quite the opposite was true. He claimed her at every available opportunity, and took pride in pointing out countless similarities between them, real or imaginary.

  “Kira’s naturally suited to running a hotel, look!” Salim beamed as Kira ran across a wide plaza near the beach, toward another toddler carrying a shovel and pail. “She’s welcoming the guests.”

  “She’s not shy, that’s for sure.” Celia sipped the cool drink they’d picked up at
the bar. “It’s really sweet of you to introduce her to everyone.”

  “It’s my very great joy.” He stared at Kira as he spoke. Emotion thickened his voice.

  Guilt soaked through Celia. “I feel terrible that I waited so long.”

  Salim turned to her. “I feel terrible that you were forced to wait so long. The guilt doesn’t lie with you.” He waved a hand in the air. “But it’s the past. Let’s enjoy the glorious present.” And he strode across the plaza after Kira, who was now attempting to rip the shovel and pail from her new acquaintance’s hands.

  The present was one thing, but soon enough they’d have to talk about the future. They both seemed to be avoiding it, treading carefully around it. And with good reason.

  That’s when things would get messy.

  Kira got on famously with Ben. Equally active, they ran up and down the beach and in and out of the shallow surf, with their mothers running after them, beseeching them to slow down and be careful.

  Celia shot an exasperated glance at Sara. “I think we need a drink with an umbrella in it.”

  Sara laughed. “I’m terrified of Hannah learning to walk. I haven’t figured out how to run in two different directions at the same time.” She glanced back to where Hannah played on the beach under Elan’s watchful gaze.

  “At least I don’t have that problem.” Celia gasped and leaped forward to stop Kira diving under a wave. “Not yet.”

  “Seriously. Not going to happen.”

  “So you say now.” Sara’s mouth twisted into a sly smile. “Time will tell.”

  “Thanks for the clichés.”

  “Don’t look now, but he can’t take his eyes off you.”

  Hairs prickled on the back of Celia’s neck. “I’m sure he’s just looking at Kira.”

  Kira squealed and splashed Ben again, totally ignoring the conversation.

  “Maybe he’s watching both of you.”

  Celia angled herself to the beach and peered behind the lenses of her sunglasses. Sure enough, there was Salim, standing a few feet from Elan. A tall, elegant figure, fully dressed among the reclining sunbathers.

  He was too far away for her to see where he was looking, but she could feel his gaze on her. Suddenly self-conscious in her swimsuit, she crouched and lifted Kira up. Kira waved her legs in the air, splashing water everywhere, her excited squeal pealing across the water. “Mama! Lift me higher!”

  “I can’t, my arms aren’t long enough.” She lowered Kira down into the water.

  “I bet my daddy could lift me higher.” Kira stared at the beach. “Daddy!” She tugged on Celia’s arm, dragging her through the shallow water toward the shore. “Daddy!”

  Salim loped across the sand and into her outstretched arms. “Yes, my princess.” He picked her up and twirled her around, while seawater soaked into his expensive shirt. “Are you sure you’re not a mermaid?”

  “I don’t have a fishy tail.” She pressed her chubby fingers to his cheeks. “But I like to swim.”

  Celia laughed. “She’s not kidding. I’m turning into a prune from spending so much time in the water.”

  “You’re the loveliest prune I’ve ever seen.” Salim glowed with good humor. It heated Celia’s wet skin like the warm sun. “And I’m hoping you’ll join me for dinner tonight, after Kira goes to bed.”

  “I could come, too,” chimed in Kira.

  “You need some sleep.” Salim pushed strands of wet hair off her flushed face. “You’ve been on the go nonstop all day.”

  “Will you read me a bedtime story?”

  “Any story you like.” Salim looked at her, his expression serious. “I’d be delighted.” He turned to Celia. “What time?”

  Somehow the idea of Salim reading Kira a story—a favorite part of their daily routine—struck fear into her heart. Kira was growing attached to Salim.

  Too attached. Leaving him would be very hard for her, even now.

  Every moment they spent together made their inevitable parting more ominous.

  But he was her father.

  Celia swallowed. “She usually goes down around seven o’clock. Of course with jet lag, anything could happen.”

  “I was actually inquiring what time I should pick you up for dinner.” His eyebrow lifted, a hint of flirtation.

  Celia’s stomach clenched. Why did she have to feel excited and apprehensive at the prospect of dinner with him? “Why don’t you come at six-thirty for story time and we’ll see what happens.”

  Nine

  K ira was already asleep when Salim arrived. She’d passed out on the bed while watching cartoons, and Celia watched, smiling and biting her lip at the same time, while Salim gently lifted her and carried her into her room.

  The nanny he’d arranged settled herself in an armchair and promised to phone them if she woke up.

  “Where are we going?” whispered Celia, once they stepped out into the hall. “I had no idea what to wear.” Aware of conservative Omani sensibilities, she’d put on a tiered skirt and a thin, long-sleeved blouse. She probably looked like a cartoon peasant.

  “You look breathtaking, as always.” Salim’s admiring gaze made her skin shimmer.

  He was infuriatingly gorgeous himself, dressed in black from head to toe, his hair swept back from his bold features.

  “We’re going out on my boat.” He pressed the elevator button and the doors opened instantly. Probably someone downstairs at the controls made sure an elevator was always at his majesty’s disposal. “I’ve arranged for dinner to be delivered.”

  “I didn’t know you had a boat,” Celia said and then frowned, looking down at her skirt and wondering if she should have worn pants.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” A mysterious smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “But little by little, I’m letting you in on my secrets.”

  Heat flickered in her belly. “Why do I have a feeling there are thousands of them?”

  “You’re a woman of mystery yourself. If you can keep a daughter secret, who knows what else you might be hiding.” The gleam in his eye revealed no hint of hostility.

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I am not to be keeping that secret anymore. Secrets don’t sit at all comfortably with me. And she’s so enjoying her time here.”

  “I don’t have words to express how I feel getting to know her.” He glanced up at the mirrored elevator ceiling for a moment, as if searching his mind for the missing words. His chest heaved. “She’s more wonderful than I could have imagined.”

  The doors opened, and Celia managed to govern her face into a blank expression as they strode through the glittering lobby. She didn’t want to reveal any of the confusing mix of emotions that roiled in her chest: pride at how well her daughter had handled the strange new surroundings, admiration for Salim’s complete and enthusiastic acceptance of his new role as a father…and anxiety about the future.

  Smartly dressed patrons milled about, greeting their guests and friends and heading for the restaurant. Salim ushered her out onto one of the brick walks, heading toward the hotel dock.

  “This day has been…astonishing. I could never have imagined what it would feel like to be a father. Kira has left me speechless.”

  His expression of fatherly delight brought a smile to her mouth. “You don’t need much speech around Kira.” She raised a brow. “You may have noticed she talks a lot.”

  “And runs a lot, and laughs a lot and smiles a lot.”

  “She’s very bright.” They walked along, side by side. “She knows the whole alphabet already.”

  “We’ll have to teach her the Arabic alphabet.”

  Celia swallowed. How far would this go? Would he really want her to come visit regularly? Familiar fear clutched at her heart. Now he’d met Kira, could he stand to let her go?

  At least she had the contract.

  He’d signed it, and she had the copy locked in her file cabinet back home.

  They’d never spoken about it.

  Guilt ti
ghtened her muscles. “They do say it’s good to learn a new language while you’re still young. It wouldn’t surprise me if Kira figures out Arabic pretty fast.”

  “Naturally she will. She’s an Omani.” Salim marched forward, proud chin lifted, a smile tilting his mouth.

  Celia didn’t contradict him. She didn’t want to. He looked so…happy.

  It couldn’t last, of course. Sooner or later they’d have to confront the ugly, sticky details of child visitation rights and haggle over where Kira would spend spring break. But for now she wanted him to revel in the simple joy of being a father.

  She’d deprived him of that for long enough.

  Salim leaped onto the dock in a single, powerful move, then turned to offer Celia a hand. Heat flared in her palm as she took his fingers. Why did she still have to be so attracted to him? It wasn’t fair.

  She stepped up onto the dock, avoiding his fierce gaze. Her own eyes were soon fixed on the gleaming white yacht floating before them. “That’s quite a boat.”

  “She’s capable of a long ocean voyage.”

  “Why do people call boats she?” Celia felt a twinge of jealousy. Which was way too silly. It’s not like the boat was her rival for Salim’s affections.

  “Perhaps because they’re beautiful, and they can take us to places we’d never discover by ourselves.”

  “That sounds rather exciting.”

  “Tonight we’ll only go out a mile or so, but some other time I’ll take you and Kira to Muscat or to Yemen. We Omanis have always been a seafaring people. It’s obvious that Kira loves the ocean.”

  Celia nodded. “The ocean in Connecticut is freezing cold and gray. She always used to scream if it so much as touched her toes. Here I can barely get her out of the water to eat.”

  “Not many places in the world compare favorably with Salalah.”

  Salim’s smile warmed her to her toes as he helped her aboard.