The Resolute Prince

by Nana Prah

  The gentle sip turned into a gulp at being alone. The full-sized bed elicited a fantasy of their skin glistening with sweat as they moved in a rhythm that would lead them to exhausted contentment. It wasn’t the first time her imagining him playing a featuring naked role brought a flush of heat to her skin that the water wouldn’t be able to douse.

  “Are you always so forthright?” he asked.

  She snapped her attention away from the bed to meet his penetrating eyes. If only he knew where her mind had gone. “Is this about my response to your apology?”

  “Amongst other things.”

  “I like to be direct when I can. As you know, there are times when having tact is a better way to go.”

  The sudden snarl didn’t startle her this time.

  “I prefer honesty,” she added. “It’s easier to keep track of.”

  Being Sule brought that to the forefront. Lying was not her thing, and there wasn’t a day that she didn’t wish she could explain everything to him without getting tossed out of his program.

  His chuckle vibrated into her chest as if they’d been bound together.

  “You’re a unique woman, Miss Ahvanti.”

  His respectful manner of not taking the liberty to call her by her first name delighted her. “Thank you, Your Highness. Please call me Malika.”

  He ushered her out the door, closing it behind them. “Call me Zareb. I get the sense that we’re going to be good friends. If not more.”

  Heart racing, scalp tingling, and mouth dry despite the water she’d drunk, anything flirtatious that would’ve popped out of her mouth with any other man flitted from her brain. “Oh.”

  “Back to my elusive question from the party. I wanted to know why you and your siblings had such similar names.”

  It definitely hadn’t been the question on his mind. The answer was too direct for his deductive brain not to have figured out. At least, he’d asked something that loosened up the knots in her stomach. Subterfuge wasn’t her forte. Having to lie to him any more than she already had might tear a hole in her stomach.

  “It’s all my father’s doing. Malikai Ahvanti has an inflated sense of self.”

  Dark eyes narrowed, making them more forceful. “You speak of your father in such a manner?”

  She took no offense at the gruff way he’d spoken. People tended to keep conversations light and gossipy. For her to share something that may be construed as negative towards herself or her family may seem offensive. “I only told you the truth. He’s the first to admit it.”

  “Is this so?”

  His scowl relaxed into an expression of neutrality. The one she had thought was especially reserved for when he trained with Sule.

  “Yes. All of his children’s names are derived from his. There was only so much variation he could come up with.”

  They strolled down a corridor she’d never been. She bent to smell a dark pink rose in one of the bouquets displayed in an exquisite vase.

  Zareb plucked a flower, removed the thorns, and handed it to her.

  She opened and closed her mouth at his sweetness. “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head in response. A few of his locs fell forward. Not thinking, she reached up and smoothed them behind his ear.

  Before she could return her hand to her side, he grasped it and tugged her to him. Where she’d wanted to be all night. Her tongue wet her lips in anticipation of meeting his as his head descended.

  Sense thumped inside her skull the moment her eyes drifted closed. Heart racing, she forced herself to jump back. Not even her hand was safe wrapped in his, so she snatched it away and clenched it against her chest.

  Strangers didn’t kiss. Not in her world.

  But I’ve known him for weeks.

  As a bold-faced liar who was using him. He didn’t know her from any of the prince-crazy women at the party. Did he think she was an easy conquest? He had no idea how much she already liked him It was no excuse to throw herself at him.

  The shake of his head deglazed his eyes before he continued walking, leaving her to follow.

  She cleared her throat. It took a couple of false starts in order to regain full speaking capability. “My oldest sister is named Malikia, the brother after him is Malikai Jr. Then there’s me. My brother Maliq, who we call Sule because he hates his first name, comes next.”

  The queen had insisted that she use her actual brother’s name while working with Zareb. It would be easier to use the identity of someone who existed. Her brother hadn’t been happy with the situation, but he’d allowed it to help her. Plus, he liked when she was in his debt. “What about the last sibling?” Zareb prodded.

  Was he really interested in such mundane information? She glanced at him to find his attention fixated on her. Her heart fluttered.

  “The challenge came when my parents had another boy. Dad named him Maleek, with two ‘e’s.”

  “Things must get confusing in your house.”

  “They do. Sometimes, when my parents stumbled over calling out the right child, my siblings and I used to laugh.”

  Her mother had been the guiltiest of butchering their names. Oftentimes, she’d go through the list of them before landing on the one she wanted.

  Malika tucked her trembling bottom lip between her teeth, wanting her mother back. Yes, she was in a better place where pain could no longer ravage her, but the void she’d left had been filled with a misery Malika couldn’t shake.

  The past few weeks spent at the palace, staying busy with fencing while maintaining her business and taking an online class as forced onto her by Zareb, had helped divert attention from the long-suffering grief. Yet, the yearning for her mother hadn’t been eradicated.

  Zareb stopped and faced her. “What’s wrong?”

  Swallowing a lump in her throat, she fought the oncoming tears. “I miss my mother.”

  Silence met her admission instead of platitudes about seeing her mom in Heaven one day or something about the pain going away in time.

  She stiffened at the tenderness in his hands as he pulled her into his arms. Who was this man who’d been kind and gentle to her all night when he’d shown Sule an aloof professionalism? This newly discovered sympathy had her melting against his broad chest as he caressed her back with slow strokes.

  The sadness that had nearly overwhelmed her slowly receded, transitioning into a raw need to be closer to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she allowed his strength to seep into her. Her breath flittered out as a contented sigh.

  “You got along well with your mother?”

  His voice rumbled through his chest into her ear.

  “Yes.”

  He squeezed her tighter. This was not the hard coach she’d been trained by over the past few weeks. This man had the ability to show a grieving woman compassion in her time of need.

  Malika permitted herself to be held and comforted for a little while. Although resistant to pull away, she forced herself to be strong. Until he knew who she truly was, there could be nothing between them. A relationship based on lies would never work.

  And yet, if she didn’t prove herself as Olympic material, he wouldn’t allow her to train with him as a woman. Her instincts screamed that if she revealed her true identity now, he’d be throwing her out of his gym before she could finish the sentence.

  Biding her time would be best. Otherwise, she’d lose Zareb, the Olympics, and her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  Zareb hadn’t intended to try to kiss her.

  If he were strapped to a lie detector, the pen would be zipping up and down the paper. It had been his sole intention to devour her full lips. Lowered eyelids with her angelic face tilted up as she’d inched closer had indicated that she’d wanted the intimacy just as much. Until she’d brought it to a screeching halt.

  Malika had more self-control than him. And that was saying a lot considering how much he’d accomplished with his life. Yet with her, he’d been ready to relinquish it for those moments of an
ticipated bliss.

  She wasn’t having it, and he didn’t blame her. They’d just met. He’d seduced more than his fair share of women on a first date, but he could sense that Malika was different. Her pulling away said as much.

  “How long will you be in Bagumi?” he asked.

  “I only came for the party. I’ll return home tomorrow.”

  He frowned at the news, hoping to have more time with her. He’d just met the first woman to fascinate him in years, perhaps his entire lifetime.

  “Would you consider staying for a few days? Or just tomorrow? I enjoy your company, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

  The truth sounded a lot like begging, but he didn’t care. In the dimmed lighting of the hallway leading to the palace offices she shook her head.

  “Zareb, I—”

  He pointed to her leg and cut her off the predicted rejection. “I noticed you wincing when we walked up the stairs. Are you okay?”

  The way she crinkled her nose as she shrugged was adorable.

  “It’s no big deal. I overdid it on a workout. It’s catching up with me. My personal trainer is a beast.”

  “Exercising is the best way to get into shape. You can’t forget to rest, though. I’ll treat you to my recovery mode day tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “What would that entail?” As if realizing something, she waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. I have pressing issues to attend to tomorrow.”

  “Are you scheduled to work?”

  “I need to get some rest before the workweek begins.” Her lips rose into a light smirk. “My boss is tough.”

  “What do you do?”

  She held her purse up in front of her. Like a miniscule shiny shield?

  “I own my company. Do you think Sule has a chance of qualifying for the Olympics?”

  Such an abrupt manner of changing the subject. A style he didn’t appreciate unless he was utilizing it. A heavy discontentment sank into his stomach that she hadn’t enjoyed their time together and wanted to get back to hiding from their set-up. He’d oblige.

  “Your brother has potential. If he continues to work hard, he may make it.” He threw her a warning look before her grin could broaden any wider. “I’m registering him in an annual competition that my gym is holding in three weeks. It’s not the biggest tournament he’ll enter, but it will allow me to assess his skill level better.”

  Her brows scrunched together. “He didn’t mention a competition.”

  Zareb reached out and slid his knuckles along her cheek. Her lips parted with a soft gasp. When she placed her hand over his, the air he’d been breathing became lighter, fresher.

  Rather than shock her with a kiss filled with the full extent of his unexpected desire, he removed his fingers from her luxurious skin and continued the trek through his home.

  It took a few seconds before she moved to catch up, giving him time to recover. He balled his trembling hand into a fist. Getting the chance to touch her had been intoxicating. What would happen with a kiss? He’d probably feel as if he’d stuck a wire hanger into a wall socket. Malika’s appeal was potent.

  “Sule doesn’t know that he’s registered for the tournament,” he said, glad that his voice remained steady. “I’ll inform him during our next training.”

  He fought the peculiar hesitance that had claimed him. He hardly knew this woman. Her rejection would be meaningless. Yet, the hard beating in his chest said differently.

  “Will you come to the competition?”

  She tucked the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and looked to the right. “I—”

  “It’s a one-day event. There will be people coming in from all over the world. I’ve organized it for the past two years. The prizes are pretty large for such a small competition. That’s what draws the international fencers. And I’m sure Sule would appreciate your support.”

  If he stopped babbling, he’d seem more like a man in control, rather than a nervous boy trying to chat up an attractive woman. To distract himself from the odd butterflies tickling his stomach, he herded Malika towards her quarters on the guest side of the palace.

  “I’m going away in three weeks.” She shrugged a slender shoulder. “It’s a planned event, and I can’t miss it.”

  The extent of his displeasure didn’t sit well. “Do you like fencing?”

  Her face seemed to light up. Or perhaps it was just the moonlight streaming through the curtainless row of windows they were passing.

  “I find it fascinating,” she said.

  “Do you fence?”

  “I do. I discovered it when Sule came home excited from a school break years ago and used me as a guinea pig to practice. I was hooked. I joined a club while in college.”

  He decided to do something he’d refused to do since the accusations that could’ve ruined his life. He’d tried to avoid entanglements with women, and yet, here he was, willing to do anything to be with Malika. A woman who could fence was a rare find. The fact that she was attractive, intelligent, confident, and had been approved by his mother meant that she had to be for him. Self-promises be damned.

  “We could spar.”

  Her brows drew together. “I was told you don’t work with women.”

  That caused him to pause for a beat. “I don’t. How did you know that?”

  “Um, your mother told me.” She wiped a hand down her skirt. “I was curious about who Sule was going to work with.”

  His mother detested that he’d struck off training women. More times than he could count, she’d tried to convince him of how ridiculous it was to allow one woman’s stupidity to ruin it for others. He understood her position and had listened to the lectures with patience. He’d never clarified that it had been more than a singular incident that had driven him to make such a radical decision. He welcomed females in his gym, but the concept of several times bitten, forever shy had stuck.

  At least, his mother would never tell her the reasoning behind his decision. The exploit a selfish young woman had placed him in had cast the Saene name under a negative light so she would’ve kept it hidden.

  Tucking his past away, he focused on Malika and grinned in a way that he hoped didn’t make him look like the Big Bad Wolf out to get what he wanted. “I wouldn’t be training you. I’d be spending time with you under the guise of having a workout.”

  Chapter Ten

  A bone-chilling paralysis that reminded Malika of the frigid winters from her days at college in Indiana infused her body. Only this time, it was Zareb’s hungry smile and the sudden invitation to fence with her rather than the whipping wind attacking that sent her into a state of shock. Why couldn’t this lack of sexism have existed before she’d had to learn how to walk in a masculine manner?

  But then again, just because he’d offered to spar with her didn’t mean he would’ve agreed to coach her. It was a line to get to see her. It tickled her insides to know that he liked her.

  But it didn’t matter. She was in the situation and would stick with it until she could confess her sins. Confused about the turns her life had taken, she knew one thing, for sure. No matter how much she wanted to, accepting his offer was out of the question. Maybe if she didn’t respond to his invitation, he’d let it go.

  “It’s late. I should get to my room. I need to rest.”

  He considered her with his head tipped forward as he held her gaze before nodding. She couldn’t think of anything to say to dispel the discomfort, so the stroll felt like it took a lot longer than it should’ve.

  Malika ran light fingers over the elegant reddish-brown wood door of the room Queen Zulekha had assigned her. “This is where I’m staying.”

  After she’d removed the key from her clutch purse, he took it and inserted it into the lock, opening the door.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  He moved forward, crowding her space.

  “Will you take me up on my offer?”

  The hair framing his face created a cu
rtain of privacy leaving only them in the world.

  “I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “I’m not the comedic sort.”

  Boy, did she know it. “Thank you for your generosity, but I have to decline. I’m involved in a project that takes up a large chunk of my time.”

  Hours of being run into the ground by a sadistic, yet brilliant fencing coach.

  And when she wasn’t training, resting, and eating healthy, she was working. There was also that mandatory online university course he’d insisted on. She’d chosen a basic IT class that didn’t take much of her time or brain power because she’d learned it as an undergraduate.

  Zareb had insisted that fencing wouldn’t be Sule’s only source of knowledge. The man had a scope of thinking that never failed to impress.

  He lessened the gap by a step. “I’m not someone who takes no for an answer.”

  Squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine until the muscles clenched, she glowered up the remaining six inches.

  “That sounds a hell of a lot like a bully. I’m not one to be told what to do, Your Highness.” She squinted to emphasize that his title meant nothing to her. “By anyone. I appreciate your generosity, but no. Thank you.”

  Reaching out with his right hand, he stroked a finger along the side of her neck. Tingles eased the indignation and annoyance she’d been gripped with. When his lips trailed along the same line, her breath caught. Weak in the knees, she reached out and grabbed his arm to keep herself upright. Solid muscle under her calloused palm thrilled.

  All coherent thought disappeared as he pulled back to gaze into her eyes.

  “I know you’re attracted to me.” He squeezed a normally ticklish area of her waist.

  She held back the moan that should’ve been a giggle.

  A mental shake cleared away the pervading image of those lips on other places of her body enough to remember her mission in Bagumi. “Once again, I’m sorry, but I think it—”

  The words were cut off as his lips claimed hers.

  The slow descent of his head had made his intention clear. She’d wanted his kiss too much to stop it. How long had she been hungry for him? Not just tonight. It had been controlled agony watching and wanting but keeping herself in check.