The Defiant Princess

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Sabrina shook her head.

  “You’ve had your say,” Khalid told the older woman sharply. “Please let me talk to Sabihah alone.”

  “Not a chance!”

  “Stop it, both of you!” Very rarely did she raise her voice, but they were both starting to drive her crazy. “Neither of you can even begin to understand what this is like for me!”

  “Sabrina …”

  She raised her hand palm up to stop her aunt. In a more gentle tone, she said, “I know that you’ve always done what you thought was in my best interests, Helen. I know you were acting on my mother’s wishes.” She turned toward Khalid. “I spent years waiting for someone to come. On the rare occasions there was an unexpected visitor at our door, I felt a rush of excitement, thinking it was Prince Hazim coming to collect me and take me home just as my father had promised. Crushing disappointment always followed, but my father’s words echoed through me and I held my head up and kept my fears and disappointments in check because he would’ve expected no less from me.”

  “Sabrina, I had no idea,” Helen said with a sob.

  Full of restless energy, Sabrina moved around the room. She trailed one hand over the back of a chair. “At times I wondered whether the powerful memories of Rhajia were a figment of my imagination. I was so confused. I wondered if I’d done something my parents were ashamed of so they sent me away.”

  “Never, Sabrina. They would never have been ashamed of you. Don’t ever doubt they loved you.” Helen was steadfast.

  “I wondered if I’d truly been a princess, or whether I was just a young girl wanting to pretend the dream was reality.”

  “You’re a princess,” Khalid told her in no uncertain terms. “Mustaf is now threatening the Turastan water supply and war looms between our countries. My father sent me to find you because Mustaf must be stopped.”

  Her jaw thrust forward. “Why hasn’t the United Nations or this Arab Council you talk about stepped in to help?”

  “Everything possible has been done through political channels, but it’s not enough.” One of his hands rubbed the nape of his neck. “You must depose Mustaf. When that happens, Rhajia’s own wealth will be freed up. All the Arab nations will contribute to the restoration of your country. It’ll take a lot of work and commitment but Rhajia can be a peaceful and prosperous nation again.”

  “And they all lived happily ever after,” she said with sarcasm because the picture he painted was too rosy. “Except that I’m nothing like a princess and this isn’t a fairy-tale.”

  “Nevertheless it can have a happy ending,” he said.

  Sabrina needed a protective force field around her. She couldn’t let him through that shield. “You make it sound straightforward, but I’m sure it’s not. If Mustaf’s prepared to have me murdered he would hardly give up his power willingly. There’d be more bloodshed.”

  “The Arab Council is not without the means to remove Mustaf with minimum harm to others once you come forward, claim the throne and prove his rule is unlawful.”

  Sabrina raised a hand to silence him and ignored the way he stiffened at her action. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve known for a long time who I am. I’ve had plenty of time to think about this—about what my father wanted from me. I’m sure when he expected me to rule, he didn’t realise I’d be away from the country for seventeen years. I’ve lost touch with the people. I’m no longer the princess the people need. I’ve never been trained or taught how to run a country and I’m not prepared to go back.”

  He turned away from her and headed toward the front door of the house. For a moment, she thought he’d finally accepted her decision.

  Helen came to her side and put a supportive arm around her waist.

  “Oh no!” The older woman rolled her eyes as Khalid stopped, bent over and retrieved a computer case from where it rested against the china cabinet in the entryway.

  “I have footage on this laptop that will make you change your mind,” he told her as he placed the case on the table and began unzipping it.

  “No!” In a couple of angry strides, she was at his side and attempted to push him toward the door. “Enough!” She pushed hard, but he simply didn’t budge. “Get out!” Any second now and she’d start pummelling at him with her fists.

  “If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the police!” Helen chipped in.

  “No police,” Sabrina said immediately. She needed to resolve this with Prince Khalid herself.

  “You need to see the suffering happening in Rhajia.”

  She released her ineffective hold on him. “I don’t. I’ve seen on the internet how things are in Rhajia and it upsets me to think of anyone anywhere suffering.”

  “So what are you going to do to stop the suffering? What do you think your father would want you to do, Sabihah?”

  “Stop calling me that!” If he wouldn’t leave, she needed to get away from him. She made it to the other side of the room and took a few deep breaths to compose herself before she made one last ditched attempt to convince him her mind was made up. “I’m sorry, but being born a royal princess doesn’t make me equipped to change anything. You’re expecting the impossible from me.” She looked out onto the three-house outback street, convinced she wasn’t the answer to Rhajia’s problems.

  “I’ve seen the video footage of you running back into a burning bus to save a child, and again to rescue the driver. I don’t believe that you’d be willing to place your own life in danger in that situation but that you’d happily turn your back on your own people who are suffering every day.”

  “She’s given you her answer. Please respect her and leave us alone, Prince Khalid,” Helen said.

  A single gunshot blasted through the quiet street.

  Instantly Khalid reacted, launching himself toward Sabrina and tackling her to the floor, winding her in the process.

  Another shot and the lounge room window shattered.

  “Get down!” he yelled to Helen as she screamed.

  More shots rang out.

  Incredibly, through her shock, Sabrina was acutely aware of the hard heat of Khalid’s body pressing down on her, protecting her from the shards of broken glass that had showered down on them. As she processed the reality that someone had fired a bullet into her home—right through the window where she’d been standing—she began shaking like a leaf.

  Chapter Three

  “Stay down, Helen,” Khalid ordered. “My security team are outside. They’ll handle this.”

  The shooter had caught his men off-guard and that was completely unacceptable. He would make sure it didn’t happen again. Still, he was certain they’d have everything under control in a matter of minutes. Fortunately for all of them, the gunman hadn’t found his target.

  How had this happened? That Mustaf had discovered Sabihah’s whereabouts at the same time Khalid was visiting seemed highly unlikely. A security leak was the more probable explanation. But the mission was top secret. Who could it have been?

  He moved a fraction to shift some of his weight off Sabihah, but kept his body in close contact, shielding her in case any more shots were fired.

  “Okay?” he asked as he looked down into blue eyes widened with shock.

  A quick nod in acknowledgement was all he received.

  “Mustaf’s found us!” Helen half-sobbed from the floor on the other side of the room.

  “Are you hurt, Aunt Helen?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “I’m okay,” she replied.

  He felt her take a deep, steadying breath. The trembling of her lower lip belied her calmly spoken words. The little princess he remembered had grown up and the woman she’d become had amazing courage as well as determination. She surprised and intrigued him.

  A strong instinct to safeguard her surged through him, and without thinking, Khalid transferred all his upper body weight to one arm so he could raise a hand to her cheek. “You’re strong, Sabihah.”

  Fascinated, he watched her delicate skin flush
under his touch. Her eyes flew to his once again and he saw a different type of panic flash through them. Immediately she looked away and shifted restlessly.

  “Not so strong that you won’t crush me if you don’t get off me,” she retorted.

  “The danger may not yet be over.” He was in no hurry to move. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to defend her, and that surprised him.

  He trailed his thumb down from her cheek and over the full, plump redness of her trembling lip. The gesture was meant to comfort her but the hard punch of arousal he experienced astounded him. Just a slight physical connection with her and he felt this? He frowned in confusion. It had been the same earlier—when she’d entered the room his breathing had become shallow for a few seconds. When he’d accepted her handshake he’d been aware of a potent physical connection.

  This shouldn’t be happening. He’d never reacted to any woman with such an intense, immediate attraction. Not the woman who had stolen his heart years before when he’d been a student, and certainly not Inaya. Was it just that he knew Sabihah could be his if he went along with his father’s plan?

  His eyes swept to hers. He noted the slight dilation of her pupils and believed it wasn’t all due to the fright from the gunshots. He was sure she sensed this chemistry between them. He recognised the moment her awareness turned to panic and denial as she squirmed again slightly beneath his frame, trying to break away from the physical contact.

  Damn! Her movement only inflamed his appreciation of her soft, feminine form. He didn’t want or need the distraction and grew irritable with himself that she could shatter his normal level of focus and control.

  “Be still,” he grated with annoyance, removing his hand from her face and placing it on a clear spot on the floor to the side of her head. “There’s glass all around you.”

  “Helen’s right, isn’t she?” she asked in a slightly unsteady voice as she stopped moving. “Mustaf has found us.” She closed her eyes. A furrow appeared between her eyebrows.

  “We don’t know that yet.” Khalid made the denial even though it was the first thought he’d had. Any other scenario and he would’ve immediately assumed he was the target. Here in Sabihah’s home in outback Australia, it seemed more likely that she’d been in the gunman’s sight and that Khalid’s mission had alerted Mustaf to her existence.

  “Mustaf must be responsible for this,” she said, her eyes still closed.

  His aggravation built. It rumbled inside him, and threatened to erupt like a volcano. There were only a limited few who could have leaked the information of his mission to Mustaf. If Khalid discovered he’d been betrayed, he’d be merciless in his punishment.

  Sabihah’s eyes opened and he saw vulnerability in their depths. Expecting an overflow of emotion, he braced himself. The last thing he needed on his hands was a hysterical female.

  Instead of raving at him or bursting into panic-stricken tears, her expression remained calm. Her eyebrows rose infinitesimally and her mouth formed a wry smile. “Let me assure you, Prince Khalid, none of my fifth graders dislike me this much.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Khalid found himself responding to her humour and something indefinable moved inside him as they shared a smile. The princess had courage and determination by the bucket-load. Despite his misgivings about his father’s plans, perhaps Sabihah did possess the spirit needed to face the challenges ahead of her in Rhajia. Time would tell.

  “You led him straight to us,” Helen accused with bitter condemnation. “You’ve put Sabrina’s life at risk.”

  Before he could respond, his security team burst into the house. He eased himself away from Sabihah carefully, mindful of all the jagged glass around them, and helped her to her feet. He felt awareness pulse between them. It was difficult not to pull her back into his arms and hold her close against him.

  He suppressed the instinct. Refused to analyse the reasons for it. Instead, he turned to the head of the security team and addressed him in Arabic. “How could this happen? You said the area was secure.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness. It won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t,” Khalid warned without raising his voice.

  The bodyguard broke eye contact.

  “The security of Princess Sabihah is of paramount importance,” Khalid reiterated. “Did you capture the shooter?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. He’s being held outside.”

  Khalid ran his eyes over Sabihah, making certain she was uninjured. Reverting to English he said to her, “Stay inside.” He looked over at Helen and saw her body shake badly as she got to her feet. Shock was setting in. “Look after Helen. I’ll be back as quickly as possible with answers.”

  “You should never have come, Prince Khalid. Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” Helen’s voice was full of despair.

  “I regret you’ve been placed in danger,” Khalid told her in clipped tones. “The situation in Rhajia left me with no option but to seek you out. It’s possible Mustaf tracked you through me or that he also identified you from the news coverage you received. However, I vow you will be kept safe.”

  “We’ll work it out, Helen,” he heard Sabihah say as he turned to leave the house with his bodyguard. “He shouldn’t have come. But now he has, he can help me figure out how I can abdicate and ensure we’re never threatened by Mustaf again.”

  Khalid’s shoulders tensed and he stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back to face her. “Here in Australia, those words are easy for you to say. You’re thousands of miles away from where you belong.”

  “I belong here. Australia is my country now.”

  “You need to re-establish contact with your people and see the suffering first hand. Once confronted with the situation in Rhajia, I trust you won’t turn your back on your countrymen.”

  “Why should I trust you, Prince Khalid? This shooting shows the lengths Mustaf will go to in order to protect his rule. I believe you led him straight here.”

  “We have not yet established that.” There was cold denial in each word.

  “I’d have to be nuts to think I can rely on you or Turastan for my protection. Helen’s right. You put me in jeopardy. No way will I trust you.”

  He regarded her steadily. Her eyes flashed a challenge at him. The hands on her hips not only completed the picture of her defiant stance but drew his attention to the narrowness of her waist …

  “You will learn to trust me, Princess. You have no other choice.” With that, he turned on his heel and departed to interrogate the shooter.

  The thought of spending time with Sabihah wasn’t the anathema Khalid had expected. Not only courageous, she was also an incredibly beautiful woman. He berated himself. He didn’t need the complication of a reaction to her. This attraction was wrong. They may be legally betrothed in their countries because of their fathers’ wishes and Hazim’s death, but he had no intention of marrying her. Despite his father’s command, he had not ended his relationship with Inaya before he flew to Australia. He cared for Inaya. He couldn’t be attracted to Princess Sabihah when he still intended to marry Inaya.

  His mission was to take Sabihah back and return her to the throne of Rhajia.

  “Your Highness, this is the gunman.”

  A police car pulled up at the same time the bodyguard spoke. Convincing Sabihah of her responsibilities would have to be pushed to the back of his mind. Right now, there was a diplomatic mess to sort out.

  ***

  It was early evening by the time the local police sergeant left with the would-be assassin. Sabrina had sent Helen off to bed with some strong pain-killers for her aunt’s impending migraine, assuring the older woman she could cope with both the local police officer and Prince Khalid. Now, having seen the way Khalid had dealt with the police officer, she wasn’t confident she should have made those commitments to her aunt.

  The prince possessed an air of authority which surprised her. It didn’t fit the image of him that she’d built
up in her mind from the media reports she’d read. Hazim was the prince who had wielded considerable power on the world’s political stage. Khalid was the notorious, partying playboy, skilled in the bedroom and on the polo field but not in the art of statesmanship or diplomacy.

  Yet the way the prince had handled the situation and the police suggested she might need to reassess his character. He may possess more of his father’s qualities than had been reported.

  King Hassan’s rule was well respected. The Turastani people were given every opportunity to develop their full potential through free education and grants for all manner of research projects. Yes, Hassan Ul-Haq ruled Turastan wisely, but that didn’t mean she had to fall in with his latest plans.

  “How long do you think it’ll be before Mustaf sends the next hitman?” Sabrina demanded of Khalid as she closed the door behind the police officer and sank back against it for support.

  “My security guards are stationed all around the house. You’re safe for now.”

  She lifted her chin. “Your security guards didn’t stop the first attempt.”

  A muscle pulsed in his cheek. “That’s most regrettable.”

  He looked genuinely angry. Despite the fact that she felt fragile and wanted to lash out at him, it was too late for recriminations. Nothing said or done would change her situation now—and he had tried to protect her when the shots had been fired. “I guess if you hadn’t reacted so quickly, I may not be alive now,” she acknowledged.

  His short laugh was rich, masculine and very attractive as he walked down the hall toward the living room. “Whilst I reacted instinctively, I assure you I am not faster than a speeding bullet.”

  His use of the phrase associated with Superman made her smile. As she followed him she appreciated his height and broad shoulders. He was certainly built as impressively as the superhero.

  “I think it’s fairer to assume you’re alive because the shooter was off his target,” he said. “But you have every right to be angry. Even though the perpetrator refused to speak, it seems fairly certain Mustaf sent him. I believed every precaution had been taken to ensure my journey here was in secret, but I admit there may have been a leak in our security.”