Yusuf’s eyes swung to hers, wide and shocked. “Tali?”
She heard the question in his voice. Is it right? He couldn’t ask her aloud, of course, without disrespecting Hamid. This was her chance to break the spell. To say, No, I’ll never marry him. To get her own way.
Tali nodded, trying not to let her mouth fall open with the shock still reverberating through her. She could not stop the smile that came next.
“I—I have to go.” Yusuf looked at the ground, then seemed to realize all over again where he was. “I have to go tell your mother.” His gaze left Talitha, and he looked sullenly at Hamid.
Hamid, ever the king, waved him off. Yusuf was gone in a minute, not bothering to hug Talitha or give her a second glance. The guards followed him. No doubt they’d make sure he made it safely outside the palace and didn’t try to come back to renegotiate.
Talitha snapped herself out of the bright, stunned shock of what had happened, the room coming back into focus. Hamid coming back into focus. “I’m only here for a month, remember? That’s not much time for a royal courtship and engagement. This isn’t for real.”
He looked so heartbreakingly handsome, turned toward her like this, his hands in his pockets and his thick black hair catching glints of sunlight from the terrace. Hamid’s dark eyes held a certain satisfaction, a certain brightness, and she thought she saw the quirk of a grin underneath his close-cropped beard. Perfection, her heart beat. He looks perfect.
“We’ll have to extend this visit to two months, then,” he said easily, as if he’d thought about this for a long time.
“And what about an option to renew if a break-up within that time frame doesn’t look convincing?” Business. Treat it like business, Tali, and you’ll get through this without falling to your knees. “It has to be convincing.”
Hamid stepped close, and she realized suddenly that his councilor had gone from the room and Mahir was out on the terrace, making a phone call. No one was watching. She scanned reflexively for cameras—whoever had sold the pictures to the tabloids had climbed a tree, for God’s sake, those people could be anywhere—but all she found was Hamid’s eyes, which hadn’t strayed from her face. They slipped down to her lips, to her neck, but they came back up quickly. And then he leaned in, his lips so tantalizingly close.
“You need convincing?”
The murmur caught her and pulled her in, strong arms wrapping around her, and his powerful lips pressed against hers, teasing, coaxing. He took an urgent breath, his tongue meeting hers in a deep dance.
“Your Highness,” called Mahir from the terrace, and Talitha leaped back, her hand going to her mouth, the air seeming overloaded with sweetness and oxygen and filling her lungs completely. That had been a kiss like nothing else, like nothing else, and her heart pounded with it. What now, what now? Mahir stepped into the room, his eyes darting curiously between them. Hamid rubbed a hand over his beard, looking for all the world like he couldn’t tear his eyes from Talitha. The intensity of his dark eyes was like the beat of a drum, loud and powerful.
“We have a meeting,” Mahir said. “Is everything all right?”
7
One thing was certain—Tali couldn’t stay in the room while Mahir went over the details of the meeting they were going to have. She bobbed a quick curtsey and kept her footsteps light, heading quickly for the door. Was she ever going to catch her breath again, after that kiss? Her whole body hummed with it, her lips especially, and once she was in the hallway, she put a hand against the wall to steady herself. Her palm brushed against ornate wallpaper with gold patterns etched in, elegant swirls against the navy-blue backing. The whorls of the pattern looked like she felt inside.
Something brushed against her ankles under the flowing fabric of her dress. Beauty and the Beast were back. She bent down to stroke their fur. “Hi, guys. You want more sketching?” The two cats allowed Tali to pet them, but then trotted down the hall, Beauty looking back like she wanted to know if Tali would follow.
Well, why not? The sound of Hamid’s voice in the dining room was making her heart race.
Okay. Okay. Hamid had announced that engagement to cut down on gossip, but he’d also done it to show her father. Yusuf had always used her for his own ends, and now maybe Hamid was, too. Sure, they could share a kiss, but did that mean he was softening, becoming less strategic? No. Tali wasn’t in the palace because Hamid had wanted her there, because he needed to get to know her. No one had ever bothered to know her like that, save her close online friends—and she’d never actually met them in real life. It had been years since anyone wanted her for herself and not her design skill. Love wasn’t in the cards for Tali. But that kiss...
Nenet turned the corner at the end of the hall, her face brightening at the sight of Tali walking with her cats. The Queen Mother approached with classic poise, a curve at the corner of her mouth. “Tali, I’ve heard the press has acquired some interesting photos of you with my son.”
“They did.” Her breath went out in a whoosh. “I didn’t know anyone was taking them.”
Nenet rubbed at Tali’s arm. “Don’t let it get to you, dear. It’ll all blow over. It always does.” She pursed her lips. “I’m glad to find you here, because I wanted to discuss something else with you.”
Oh, sweet relief. “Anything.”
“My suite makeover is almost finished, as you know, but I think it lacks a few pieces. What’s the name of the store you mentioned? Come with me to my rooms so we can consult.”
The two of them walked through the halls together until they arrived at Nenet’s suite, a massive collection of rooms overlooking the gardens. Tali scrolled quickly through her phone. The name of the store, the name of the store— She paused next to a china shelf she’d brought in to display some of Nenet’s gorgeous antique pieces. The statue of Apis, the sacred Egyptian bull, had come with Nenet from Egypt as part of her dowry. Rafiq took a special pleasure in stroking its nose. Tali laughed out loud at the memory the same moment she found the name of the shop in her search.
“It’s this place, Nenet.” She crossed to where the Queen Mother had taken a seat on the most delicate-looking sofa on the planet. “You can browse their catalogue online.”
Nenet took the phone and scrolled through the offerings while Tali moved through the room, subtly adjusting pieces here and there.
“It’s no use,” Nenet said. “I can’t see the colors exactly. I need to go there.”
Tali spun around, a laugh escaping her. “It’s a strange little boutique across town, not a high-end store. Won’t your bodyguards recoil in horror?”
Nenet giggled, the years slipping away from her face. “Oh, so what? It’ll be just like when I was a young girl, sneaking out to go to a café or to a friend’s house. You can come with me. Rafiq is with Miss Mildred his morning, isn’t he?”
It had been a good compromise—Tali would take over most of the work, but the regular nanny would keep her employment. “He is. Of course I’ll come with you.” Part of her mind was still sinking into that kiss. What a momentous occasion, that kiss. It had been over so quickly, and now Tali felt the gravity of it pulling her toward the center of the world. Or was it pulling her toward Hamid?
Tali hardly noticed the Queen Mother moving around her, hardly noticed the trip back through the palace with a single guard. She didn’t notice anything until Nenet swept an arm out over a garage that held ten cars—no, twenty—and told her to choose one.
“What? I—” Her eyes settled on one in a pearly blue. “That one.”
The guard moved fast. He had both the doors open for them to get in, shut them both at lightning speed, and then he was behind the wheel, steering them out into the morning sun.
“It won’t take a minute,” Nenet said in a reassuring tone. Traffic was light, and they made it to the shopping arcade where the boutique was located in twenty minutes. Tali got out first, but Nenet hesitated. Alarm pricked at the back of Tali’s mind. Was Nenet all right?
“Need a hand? Or should I say, an arm?”
On the way through the arcade, another store caught Nenet’s eye—a store that sold hanging fabrics and decorative pillows. The two of them went in, catching the attention of the manager and Tali’s friend Alanna, who also worked there. While Nenet browsed, Tali leaned over the counter to the manager. “We’re here because of Alanna. She’s one of my favorite friends.”
“I’ll be sure to give her the commission,” the woman chirped, and Tali could feel the excitement radiating off her. They left with two bags.
Nenet liked other stores, too, and soon the guard paid a shopkeeper to hold all of their packages so they could shop unencumbered. Someone from the palace would come pick them up later.
On the way back to the car, they stopped halfway down the arcade to have juice at an organic food stall with plenty of seating. Nenet lowered herself to the flimsy white seat, somehow managing to make it look like she sat upon a throne. Her face had gone a little pale. Tali was working up the courage to ask her about it when their juices came, and the guard stepped away to give them a little privacy.
“I met my husband on an outing like this,” Nenet confided. “I was seventeen, and he was out doing the same thing. One guard, no agenda...” Nenet’s eyes went soft and distant. “It was wonderful.”
“I’m sorry I never got to meet him.” This wasn’t a thought that had occurred to Tali before, but now, looking at the love shining from Nenet’s face, she genuinely wished he were still alive. “It sounds like the two of you had a very happy marriage.”
Nenet sipped at her juice, a pink, frothy concoction with strawberries and bananas. “Cut short too soon.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “He was such a good father. He’d have taken such joy in watching Hamid take over the throne when it was time. Instead, Hamid got thrust into it, and he’s always carried the burden of being paternal to his little brother, too. Oh, and then his wife...”
“Tell me about her.” Tali felt extraordinarily brave for jumping into the conversation—and terrified, too. She’d known, of course, that Hamid had lost his wife. Her death had set off a nationwide month of mourning. “I don’t know much about her, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, Samira was lovely.” Nenet’s forehead wrinkled. “She had a heart condition, you know.” Tali hadn’t known. “But she insisted on going through labor, and after the birth, she was too weak to go on.” Nenet put a hand to her heart. “Awful.”
“Awful,” Tali agreed. Her heart ached for Hamid and Rafiq, who’d never had the chance to know his mother.
“It was an arranged marriage,” added Nenet. “I think it might have worked out. They don’t always, you know.” The spark came back into her eyes. “Sometimes, a person gets very lucky, and the arrangement comes after the attraction.”
What was she saying? Tali’s heart thudded wildly, but she kept the smile on her face. Certainly Nenet wasn’t suggesting that she should marry Hamid. That would be too much. Wouldn’t it?
Nenet finished her juice. “What’s your opinion on the planning for the jubilee?”
“Oh, I—” I’ve been spending too much time staring at Hamid for the details to sink in, and we always manage to end up talking about personal things. And also, he kissed me. “Hamid seems very focused on it.”
He had been when he’d come to her father’s shop. That’s what had set off the whole thing—her move to the palace, working with Rafiq, the kiss—all of it.
The volume of the crowd in the arcade had increased, but she hadn’t noticed—Tali had been watching Nenet and listening to her too avidly to care. But it was louder, wasn’t it? On instinct, she scanned the crowd and found eyes. People were watching them.
The tabloids. Tali might have been nobody before this morning, but now she was someone—someone who had a relationship with the king. As far as the country was concerned, she was about to be his new fiancée, or something even more salacious. Murmurs rose up around them. Shopping for a trousseau? That’s the Queen Mother!
Suddenly the juice cart and its quaint seating was hemming them both in. Someone must have posted to social media. The crowd seemed to multiply, adding more people by the second. Tali caught a shimmer of sun on glass—a camera lens. The next moment the guard was at the table. If Tali felt this trapped, how would Nenet be feeling?
Nenet’s face had gone even paler, and Tali’s pulse thrummed with worry. She’d never let on that she was sick, but now, looking at her across the table, Tali noticed a subtle shake in her hand and a hitch in her breath.
Tali stuck her hand out. “Let’s go, Nenet. Let’s get out of here.”
The two of them tucked in behind the guard, abandoning their cups on the table. How foolish, to have come without more security. People pushed in on every side. The straight path through the arcade wasn’t going to work.
“This way,” called Tali, holding tight to Nenet’s hand. They plunged into another antique shop and wound through the pieces, the guard sticking close to Nenet’s side. Their little group burst out of the employee entrance. “I know the streets better,” she told the guard. “Trust me on this one, okay?”
He looked anxiously in the direction of the car but nodded.
“Only a few minutes more,” Tali promised.
It took a few minutes more, plus a couple to slow down for Nenet, but they made their way through a collection of alleys and circled back around to the car. Tali could sense that the guard wanted to call a halt to this, to call for backup, but he struggled to trust her. They were so close. They were almost there.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk was such a relief that Nenet must have felt it too. The Queen Mother burst out laughing, red-faced.
“Are you all right, Nenet? I hope you’re all right.”
Nenet tapped at her chest. “A heart condition.” Oh, no. “I’ll be fine.”
Tali took Nenet’s arm again, and the guard stepped in front of them, leading the way to the now-visible car. The crowd was lighter here—the group from the arcade hadn’t found them yet. Good. She’d done a good thing, here. She’d gotten them out safely with the help of the guard.
But the car wasn’t alone: a clutch of guards stood in a tight semicircle around it. A clutch of guards and Hamid.
8
Fear had twisted itself up with anger inside Hamid the moment he found out that his mother and Talitha had snuck out of the palace and, even standing here in the bright, cleansing sun, it wouldn’t let go of him. One moment fear won out and he wanted to run to his mother when they came out of the crowd. The next moment, pure, hot anger. They’d been in danger. They’d taken a single guard. How reckless, how foolish...
Talitha put her hand carefully over Nenet’s, the two of them pink-cheeked and breathless, and her smile faltered. “Your Highness. How did you know where we were?”
“There’s a tracker in all palace vehicles in case of...” In case of kidnapping. In case of an accident. In case of the Queen Mother slipping away undetected. “In case of an emergency.” He wanted so badly to scoop them into his arms. “Mother, you left when the guards were changing. The next person on shift informed me that a car had left the garage unscheduled, and we came straight here. Another contingent is searching the stores in the arcade. Call them off,” he snapped over his shoulder at the nearest person.
They’d done wrong, and so had Hamid. Guilt choked off the rest of what he’d planned to say. He should have brought a doctor. A full medical team. And here was the Queen Mother, standing out in the sun, with her heart in God knew what condition. He hustled them into the SUV in front of the blue car, where her maid waited.
Hamid sat facing the three women in the back—Talitha, his mother, and her favorite maid. The maid gave her water and a cool cloth as the SUV pulled out into traffic, and he found Talitha looking at him with her eyes narrowed and a certain heat to her expression.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, the anger hardly disguised. It shot into the palms of his hands and he pressed th
em tightly against his knees. “It put both of you at risk. Sneaking out is forbidden. I shouldn’t have to say it.”
“We didn’t sneak out.” Talitha lifted her chin. “I don’t know the guards’ routines, and I certainly wasn’t sneaking. Anyway, your mother invited me. She wanted to visit a certain boutique. And we took security, Hamid—Your Highness.” Talitha arranged her hands in her lap, looking as cool and collected as anything. “Wouldn’t arguing with the Queen Mother have been against tradition?”
An old wound, always waiting just beneath the surface of Hamid’s chest, opened again. He felt that old, tumbling fear that he’d felt when his mother had come to tell him that his father had died. Hollow dread filled the pit of his gut. “Don’t be so flippant about our traditions. Traditions are what keep us safe in the palace. Your modern approach to life is dangerous. Don’t you see it?”
How could she not see this? Talitha had gone along with Nenet’s wishes even when it put both their lives in harm’s way. One of the strongest traditions of the royal family was that they stayed removed from the people. They didn’t throw themselves on the mercy of the public. The crowd inside the arcade was still rowdy. Talitha should know that. He should tell her. But he didn’t want to upset his mother. What a bind.
“I think it’s necessary to remind you that I’m an adult,” Nenet put in. “I’m capable of deciding my schedule for myself.”
“Yes,” agreed Talitha. “Does your insistence on tradition and doing things the way they’ve always been done have to result in putting us all in convenient cages?” She shook her head. “I can’t live like that.”
Cages. Was that what she thought of him? That he thought of her—and his own mother—as prisoners in a cage? Unbelievable.
His mother handed her water back to the maid and leaned closer to Talitha. “You know, Hamid, not every single rule and custom is relevant in this day and age.” Despite her weak heart, there was steel in her eyes. “I can go out if I choose. I can visit places and mingle with the populace.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m still curious about new things, even at my age.”
The Sheikh’s Fake Engagement: The Blooming Desert Series Book One Page 5