The Sheik & the Virgin Princess

“I can’t,” she breathed.

Cleo was at her side in a second, putting her arm around her and hugging her. “You can. If you have to throw up, rush for that plant and I’ll distract him with a knock-knock joke.”

Cleo’s outrageous instructions allowed Zara to suck in a breath and get to her feet. Rafe entered the room, followed by a man she recognized from the research she’d done. A man who was staring at her as if she were the most amazing creature on the planet.

The dark intensity of his gaze made her uncomfortable. Was this really happening? Was the handsome, older man really King Hassan of Bahania?

“Your Highness, may I present Miss Zara Paxton,” Rafe said, gesturing toward her.

Zara felt, more than saw, Cleo move away. She was vaguely aware of two more men entering the room. Security, she thought hazily, all of her attention focusing on the man who might be her father.

He was a few inches shorter than Rafe, but a couple of inches taller than her. He wore a suit and looked fit. His eyes were the same rich brown as her own, and when he smiled she thought she recognized the shape of his mouth.

“My long-lost daughter,” he intoned, stepping toward her and holding out his arms. “The child of my beloved Fiona. Welcome. Welcome home.”

Before she knew what was happening, she found herself caught up in the king’s arms, pulled against him and held tight. Zara tried to hug him back, but she couldn’t move. For the second time in one day, a strange man held her immobile.

She needed to escape, she thought frantically, and glanced around the room. Only Rafe seemed to notice her distress. He eased forward and gently disentangled the king.

“Perhaps we should all have a seat and discuss what has happened,” he said, urging Hassan toward a sofa.

“Yes, yes.” The king took hold of Zara’s hand and sat down.

Zara perched next to him feeling both uneasy and awkward. He was royalty. Was she supposed to bow or sit lower or what? She looked to Rafe for an answer, but he was busy settling Cleo across from them, then he picked up the phone and announced that it was time to serve the refreshments.

Zara returned her attention to the king only to find him staring at her. His attention made her feel even more nervous. She pulled her fingers free of his and carefully laced her hands together.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “This is very strange. I’m sure Rafe explained about the letters. I don’t mean to be presumptuous or to get in the way. I’m simply trying to find out some information.”

Hassan sighed. “I see your mother in you. She was a true beauty. The most glorious rose in the garden of womanhood.”

Zara blinked and pushed up her glasses. While Fiona had always been lovely, Zara had inherited lit tle of her physical attributes and none of her charm. “Yes, well, I am tall like her.” She glanced at Cleo. “Oh, you haven’t met my sister. This is Cleo.”

Cleo grinned. “Foster sister,” she corrected. “Although I wouldn’t mind being able to say my daddy is a king, I won’t be able to claim that relationship.”

Hassan chuckled. “I welcome you to my country. Is this your first visit?”

“For both of us. It’s great. A little hot, but hey, that’s why they invented air-conditioning.” Cleo leaned forward. “I confess, you’re the first royal person I’ve ever met. How exactly am I supposed to address you?”

“Your Highness is the accepted form,” Rafe said hastily as someone knocked on the door.

The security guys went on instant alert. One of them headed for the door while the second one covered him. They stepped into the hallway for a minute, then reappeared pushing a tray of drinks and snacks.

“Now that’s just what happens when I go through a fast-food drive through,” Cleo murmured.

Hassan raised his eyebrows. “What is that?”

“You know. When you desperately want a burger and fries, but you don’t want to get out of your car? You can place the order and pay, then get your food, never once putting out more effort than rolling down the window. You have to try it.”

Hassan asked Cleo a few more questions. Zara admired her ability to be almost normal, despite the situation, then remembered that Cleo had a whole lot less on the line.

Rafe and the security men put the drinks and trays of snacks on the coffee table between the two sofas. Zara reached for a cola bottle, but her hands were shaking too much for her to unscrew the top. Rafe took the plastic bottle from her and unfastened it, then poured the fizzing liquid over a glass of ice.

“You’re doing great,” he said as he handed her the drink.

She hoped he was telling the truth. The urge to throw up hadn’t gone away.

Hassan removed Fiona’s diamond ring from his coat pocket and held it out. “I gave this to your mother on our one-year anniversary. I wanted to make sure she would never forget me.”

“I don’t think that was a problem,” Zara said, then cleared her throat. “Your Highness, this is all very strange to me. I think, before we go too far, we should find out if I’m really your daughter.”

“I already know. You look very much like Sabrina.”

“Who?”

“Princess Sabra. She prefers the American version of her name.”

Zara remembered the guard at the palace. “Okay, so I look like her. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You have this.” He placed the ring in her hand and closed her fingers over it. “I know, Zara. Here.” He touched his chest. “That is all that matters.”

Rafe sat next to Cleo and took a soda for himself.

Hassan touched Zara’s cheek. “Your mother was younger than you are now when we met. I was young, as well. Very proud and certain of myself. I was visiting New York and wanted to see a Broadway show. Afterward, at a party, I met the cast. Your mother had captured my attention from the first moment she stepped onstage. I arranged for us to have a private introduction. She was as charming as she was beautiful. I believe I fell in love with her that first night.”

Zara had tried to be sensible and stay in control of her emotions, but hearing about her mother’s past tested her resolve. Fiona had rarely talked about that time in her life and never said anything about the man who had fathered her child.

“I’ve seen a few pictures from when she was a showgirl,” she admitted. “She was lovely.”

“More than that. She had dozens of admirers, but from the first there was something special between us. We only wanted each other. We were together whenever I could get away.” He smiled sadly. “I asked her to marry me, but she refused.”

“Are you kidding?” Cleo blurted, then covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

Hassan shrugged. “I was stunned, as well. However, I already had a wife. I offered to divorce her, but Fiona refused. She said she didn’t want to make trouble and she doubted that she would have been content to live in one place, even one as amazing as Bahania.”

“My mother did like to wander,” Zara said, a little dazed by all she was hearing. A king had offered to marry Fiona and she had said no?

Hassan studied her. “Was there…” He cleared his throat. “I often wondered who Fiona had married.”

“She didn’t,” Zara said quickly. “We moved around constantly and while Fiona always had dozens of friends, there was never a special man in her life. She used to tell me that she’d already fallen in love once and didn’t plan to do it again.”

Hassan closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. I gave her my heart, and when she left, she took it with her. I like to think she experienced the same with me. Perhaps not. We’ll never know.” He turned his attention back to Zara. “At the time I could not understand why she disappeared from my world, but now I know. She must have left as soon as she found out she was pregnant. She knew that I would have insisted we marry. Even if we had not, she feared for her child.”

Too much was happening too fast. Zara felt as if her head was already too full of information. “Why would she fear that anything would happen to me?”

“Bahanian law requires that a royal child be raised in the palace. I suspect Fiona feared that if I knew about you, I would insist you be raised here. If she didn’t marry me, she would lose you.” He sighed. “I like to think I would not have insisted, but I don’t know that it’s true. After I lost her, I would have given anything to have a part of her with me.” He touched her hand. “And now you are here.”

Zara smiled tightly as she held on to her glass of cola. “Yes, well, it’s all very strange.”

“How did you find me now?”

Zara explained about the papers the lawyer had sent. “Once I read the letters, I started to consider the impossible.”

“Zara insisted we take the tour,” Cleo announced cheerfully. “I wanted to walk up to the front door and knock. She said the guards wouldn’t have let us in.”

The king smiled. “Even one as charming as you, Cleo, might have had a little trouble getting past the royal guard. Although I suspect you have a way with men. I’ll have to warn my sons about you.”

Cleo flicked her wrist. “I’ve sworn off princes, Your Highness. They’re just all the same. Rich, powerful…it gets boring after a while.”

Zara rose from her seat and crossed to the French doors leading to the balcony. Rafe came up behind her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Would you be, under the circumstances?”

“Probably not.”

“Everything is so confusing.”

“There’s nothing to be confused about,” Hassan announced as he stood. “After twenty-eight years, my daughter has returned to me.”

“You make it sound so simple and I can barely catch my breath.”

Her father—she couldn’t believe that was possible—nodded. “This is unfamiliar to us both. Perhaps we should take the time to acquaint ourselves with the situation. I wish to show you my world. Bahania is a country blessed with great resources and people. You must see the beauty of it. We will start with you and Cleo moving into the palace.”

“All right!” Cleo clapped her hands together. “I think I’m going to like having you in the family,” she told the king.

Zara wasn’t so sure. “Our hotel is very comfortable,” she said. Both Hassan and Cleo looked at her as if she were crazy.

“You are my daughter,” Hassan reminded her. “As such, the palace is your home. You will be made to feel welcome. We will have time together.”

“Your Highness, you need to think this through,” Zara said. “I mean I know I look like your daughter and Fiona is my mother and you did have a relationship with her, but you have to be sure about this. Shouldn’t we take blood tests?”

“I know what is right and I know who you are.” He walked over to hug her. “After so very many years, you are where you belong. That is all that matters. Come, you will collect your things and move into the palace right now.”

Zara glanced around, searching for an escape. Her gaze settled on Rafe. For some reason he seemed the only sane person in the room.

“Are you going to be there?” she asked before she could stop herself. “At the palace? Do you live there?”

Rafe nodded. “For the next few weeks.”

Hassan stared at him. “That’s right. You will be at the palace. You have found my most beloved treasure and brought her to me. Therefore, I will entrust her to you.”

Zara slipped free of Hassan’s embrace. “I don’t understand.”

Rafe looked as if he’d just sucked a lemon. “Your Highness I don’t—”

Hassan cut him off with a shake of his head. “My mind is made up. I will only trust you with her safety. It will be a temporary matter, until you return to your regular duties.”

“Trust him for what?” Zara asked.

“Rafe will be your bodyguard. He will protect you with his life.”

Chapter Four

R afe held in a groan. He did not need this kind of trouble in his life. Protecting royalty wasn’t that big a deal—he’d been in charge of Prince Kardal’s security for three years. But guarding the king of Bahania’s newly found, soon-to-be-favorite daughter wasn’t his idea of a good time. Especially when the king had more in mind than her physical protection. King Hassan wouldn’t want anyone messing with Zara for any reason—including and probably especially sex.

Which meant his physical attraction toward her could be a one-way to ticket to a headless moment should he be foolish enough to let his libido overrule his common sense. Not that he would ever let that happen.

“Your Highness,” he said, trying to figure out how to reason with the king without creating trouble.

Hassan waved away his concerns before he could even voice them. “As a temporary measure, Rafe. I’m not unmindful of your duties to my son-in-law.”

Zara glanced between them, obviously confused. “What are you two talking about?”

Cleo bounced off the sofa and fluffed her short blond hair. “What your new father is saying is that Rafe has been assigned to protect you with his very life. While I could be taken by terrorists and tortured, and everyone would just yawn.”

Hassan smiled at her. “Rafe will keep you under his care, as well,” he said. “While you are my guest, your safety is of equal concern. You are the most-beloved sister of the daughter of my heart’s desire.”

“Could I get that on a plaque?” Cleo asked.

“Perhaps a tapestry,” the king told her. “We could have the weaving women design one.”

“You have weaving women?” Cleo sounded horrified. “Is that what they do with their entire day? Weave? Do you…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the king’s smile. “You’re teasing me.”

“Yes.”

Cleo shrugged. “He’s got a sense of humor. Who knew?”

Zara didn’t respond. She still looked as if she was in shock. Hassan hugged her one last time.

“I leave you in the protection of your bodyguard. Rafe will make all the arrangements to move you into the palace. I look forward to seeing you there.”

With that, he was gone. Cleo shook her head. “This is amazing. Just like in a movie.”

Rafe wished it was a movie. Then he could get out of his seat and head back to his regular life. Instead he was stuck. He supposed that he could go to his boss and complain, but that would annoy King Hassan.

Zara folded her arms over her chest. “He can’t be serious. He wants you to be my bodyguard?”

“I’m more than qualified.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “This isn’t about your abilities, Rafe. It’s about being sane. Who on earth would want to hurt me? No one knows who I am.”

“You might be Hassan’s daughter. I know it sounds far-fetched, but go along with it for now, all right? This is a temporary situation.”

“Don’t you have a real job you’d rather be doing?”

He was supposed to be coordinating the development of an air force in Bahania, El Bahar and the City of Thieves. “That is going to have to wait for a while.”

Prince Kardal, his boss, would understand. At this point in the negotiations no one wanted to annoy King Hassan. Which meant Rafe would spend the next few weeks making sure Zara didn’t get so much as a splinter. It would mean long hours and close contact with the first woman to get his attention in years. Life had a hell of a sense of humor.

“Look at the bright side,” Cleo said. “At least the king didn’t throw you out on your butt. If anything, he seemed really happy to see you.”

Zara nodded. “I don’t know what to think about any of this. I guess we should head back to the hotel and pack up our stuff.”

Cleo did a couple of quick dance steps. “I’m gonna live in a palace,” she sang as she shimmied around the sofa. “And you wanted to go camping in Yellowstone instead of coming here.”

Zara headed for the door. “I’m beginning to think that would have been a better idea.”

“I don’t have any experience with this whole bodyguard thing,” Zara said as Rafe followed them back to their hotel. “Do you plan to go with me everywhere?”

“Pretty much.”

“Will you carry the groceries when we go to the supermarket?” Cleo asked.

“You won’t be doing grocery shopping,” Rafe told her.

Zara was still focused on the whole “go with her everywhere” concept. “I don’t have a very interesting life,” she admitted. “You’re going to get bored.”

“I’ll manage.”

They crossed the street and walked toward the entrance to the hotel where she and Cleo had stayed. Was this tall, dangerous man really going to shadow her, day and night? Was it possible?

“You know, you could just meet us at the palace,” she said. “We can take a cab.”

He didn’t bother answering.

A bodyguard? It was too weird to believe. Of course there was a chance that King Hassan might be her father, which put the whole bodyguard dilemma in perspective. Her life had suddenly taken on the unreal qualities of a visit to a fun house.

Zara had seen some physical similarities between herself and the king, but she hadn’t felt any kind of emotional connection. He’d been so sure and she’d wanted to head for home. It was one thing to be ten years old and long for a father to sweep into her life and give her the stability she’d always wanted. It was another to be grown-up, with a life of her own and find out she might be related to a ruling monarch.

When they reached the hotel, Rafe escorted them to their room. Once there, he actually checked the small space before allowing them to enter.

“Because terrorists might want to kidnap me?” she asked, slightly bemused as he stepped aside to let them in.

“Because I’m good at what I do.”

His blue eyes were just as cold as they’d always been, but now she found them less scary. Perhaps because he was her only link to sanity in this impossible situation.

Cleo headed into the hotel room. Rafe briefly touched Zara’s arm to detain her.

“I’m going to make some phone calls while you pack,” he said, pulling a cell phone from his coat pocket. “Don’t let anyone in the room but me.”

“Is there a code word?” she asked.

“Troublemaker.”

“I like that. I’ve always been a good girl.”

“It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t change.”

“Don’t tell Cleo. She’s always getting in trouble.”

“Cleo isn’t my concern.”

“Figures.” Zara glanced down the hall to make sure they were alone, then lowered her voice. “What if I don’t want to go live at the palace?”

“If you’re Hassan’s daughter, that’s where you belong.”

She asked him because there was no one else. And because she trusted him to tell her the truth. “If I am, it’s going to change everything, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. For several heartbeats they simply stared at each other. Zara became aware of a heat generated by the powerful man in front of her. Despite the strange situations she’d encountered in the past few hours, Rafe was a haven of safety. Which made no sense—the man had pulled a gun on her that morning.

She had the most ridiculous urge to cuddle up next to him, to feel his strong body pressing against hers as his arms held her close. She wanted to hear the steady beat of his heart. She wanted him to—

“You’d better get your packing done,” he said. “I’ll have a car here in twenty minutes.”

Zara stepped into the room. Obviously, she was the only one having any kind of fantasies. It was a little disheartening, but not a big surprise. Men had never been very interested in her that way. Maybe it was the glasses.

She pushed at the wire frames as she moved toward her suitcase tucked in a corner of the room.

“Isn’t this incredible?” Cleo asked as she came out of the bathroom, her arms filled with cosmetics. “We are going to be in a palace. I can’t believe it. I bet our rooms are amazing. Just that little bit we saw on the tour was fabulous, and those were the places where they allow the public. It’s probably even better in the private quarters. Zara? What’s wrong? You don’t look excited.”

“I’m in shock. All of this is happening too fast.”

“Yeah, but it’s great.”

Zara wanted to say that she didn’t agree, but she knew Cleo wouldn’t understand. To her sister the situation was simple. The king of Bahania might be Zara’s father—let’s have a party. Zara was more concerned with the reality of trying to fit in to that kind of a world. While she and her mother had never starved, they’d certainly never had a lot of money. Her idea of a luxurious vacation was one where she didn’t have to cook.

“I’ll deal with it later,” she told herself as she packed her clothes and put her toiletries into a carry-on bag.

When Rafe knocked on the door ten minutes later, they were ready to go.

“We can carry these down ourselves,” Zara said as he entered the room.

Instead of responding, he opened the door wider. Two men entered and picked up their heavy suitcases as if they were empty soda cans. Cleo looked at her and shrugged.

“Okay,” her sister said. “So the rich and royal live different. I can adjust!”

Zara followed her to the elevator and wasn’t the least bit surprised when they walked outside and found a limo waiting.

“Because a car isn’t good enough?” she asked, sliding into the back seat.

“I didn’t know how much luggage you’d have,” Rafe told her.

The two men finished with their bags and slammed the trunk. As they walked toward the front of the vehicle, one of them slipped off his jacket. Zara saw a shoulder holster as he shifted onto the front seat. She glared at Rafe who sat across from them.

“They’re armed?”

“Standard precaution.”

Not in her world. The small college town where she lived and worked barely required her to remember to pull the key out of her car ignition.

“Try not to think about it,” he said. “Once you’re within the walls of the palace, you won’t have to worry about any of that. You’re safe, and I’ll be close by.”

How close? she wanted to ask but didn’t. Somehow those words took on a whole new meaning where Rafe was concerned. Instead she glanced at her watch and realized that a mere eight hours ago she and Cleo had been eating breakfast in their hotel. Who knew a world could change so quickly?

“Tell me about the royal family,” she said to distract herself. “What are they going to think about me?”

“I doubt they’ll be too surprised. Hassan is known as a man who likes women.”

“Are there other illegitimate children?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

He looked comfortable in his leather seat. That morning he’d been dressed like a desert nomad. Now he wore a suit, but he was trusted with her safety.

“Are you armed?” she asked.

“You have plenty of other things to worry about,” he told her.

She took that as a yes.

Cleo rubbed the soft seat. “There are princes, right? Four of them?”

Rafe nodded.

“Any of them married?”

“Cleo!” Zara glared at her sister. “We’re not here to make trouble.”

“I’m not interested in trouble. I’ve given up on men, remember. I just thought this is my one opportunity to meet a real prince instead of just reading about them in magazines.” She returned her attention to Rafe. “Are they young and good-looking?”

“They’re in their late twenties and early thirties,” he said. “I’m not in a position to comment on their appearance.”

“I suppose if one is a wealthy prince, appearance isn’t all that important.”

Zara eyed her sister’s short blond hair and curvy figure. “They’re going to love you,” she said mournfully. “Try not to complicate the situation.”

“I swear.” Cleo made an X over her heart.

Zara wasn’t impressed. Cleo might not go looking for trouble, but it could very well come looking for her. After all, Cleo attracted men the way magnets drew metal. She’d had her first date sometime in her first year of high school and had rarely been without a boyfriend—until recently, Zara reminded herself. Cleo had sworn off men a few months before. She wondered if that resolution would withstand the prince test.

They drove through the streets of the city. Traffic slowed their progress, and Zara had the urge to jump out and get lost in the crowd. With her luck she would trip and break something important.