The Sheikh and the Pregnant Bride

She’d always wondered why they hadn’t taken that last step. They’d dated for years, been each other’s first time. He was the only man she’d ever been with and until Elaine, Jon had only been with her. She still loved him—a part of her would always love him.

“I think we fell out of ‘in love,’ if that makes sense. We still care for each other, but it’s not the same. I think we would have broken up a long time ago, except my dad was sick and Jon didn’t want to dump that on me, too.”

But she’d sensed the changes in their relationship. “I ignored the obvious because of my dad dying. After he was gone, Jon and I talked and I realized it had been over for a long time.” She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “He’s met someone else. Elaine. She’s great and they’re crazy about each other. So that’s good.”

She mostly meant that. Jon was her friend and she wanted him to be happy. But every now and then she wondered why she couldn’t have met someone, too.

“You are very understanding,” Qadir said. “Even if it is all a mask.”

She stiffened. “I’m not pretending.”

“You’re saying there is no anger at Jon for replacing you so easily?”

“None at all,” she snapped, then sighed. “Okay, there’s a twinge, but it’s not a big deal. I don’t really want him for myself, exactly.”

“But he should have had the common courtesy to wait a while before finding the love of his life.”

“I can’t agree with that. It makes me sound horrible.”

“It makes you sound human.”

“I’m emotionally tough.” At least she was trying to be. There had been a single breakdown about five weeks ago. She’d called Jon, sobbing and trembling with pain. She’d hurt everywhere, not only from the loss of her father, but from the loss of her best friend.

Jon, being Jon, had come over to comfort her. He’d hugged her and held her and she’d wanted more. She’d kissed him and…

Maggie walked to the balcony and stared out into the night. Thinking about that night made her so ashamed. She’d seduced him because she’d wanted a chance to forget all that had happened in her life. And maybe to prove she still could.

At the time, he’d only known Elaine a couple of weeks, but Maggie had sensed they were getting serious. In a way it had been her last chance with Jon.

When it was over, neither of them had known what to say. She’d apologized, which he’d told her wasn’t necessary. Things had been awkward between them. They still were.

“Life is complicated,” she murmured.

“I agree.”

She looked at him. “You’re not going to get any sympathy from me, Prince Qadir.”

“You’re saying my life of wealth and privilege means I don’t deserve to complain.”

“Something like that.”

“You have many rules.”

“I like rules.”

“I like to break them.”

Hardly a surprise, she thought as she smiled. “Of course you do.”

He laughed. “I still do not intimidate you. What was it you called me? A guy with a checkbook and a car?”

“Is reverence an important part of the job?”

“Not at all. You may even call me by my first name, without using my title.”

“I’m honored.”

“No, you’re not, but you should be.” He took a step toward her, then touched her cheek. “Do not mourn for the man unwise enough to let such a prize go. He was born a fool and he will die a fool. Good night.”

Qadir disappeared with a speed that left Maggie gasping. She didn’t know what to think about first. The soft brush of his fingers on her cheek or what he’d said.

She wanted to protest that Jon wasn’t a fool. That he was actually a really bright guy, which was one of the things she’d always liked about him. Except she liked Qadir’s attitude about the whole thing. She also enjoyed thinking about herself as a prize to be won…by a man who was not a fool.

Chapter Two

Maggie finished getting ready, then hovered by the door, not sure if she was just supposed to go down to the garage or wait to be called or what.

“Palaces should come with instruction books,” she murmured to herself as she reached for the door handle. She might as well see if she could find her way to the garage and…

Someone knocked on her door. She pulled it open to find a pretty blonde about her age in the wide hallway.

“Hi,” the woman said. “You’re Maggie, right? I’m Victoria McCallan, secretary, fellow American and your guide to all things royal. Victoria, never Vicki, although honestly I can’t say why. It started when I was little. I think I was in a mood and I haven’t gotten over it.”

Victoria smiled as she spoke. She was a few inches shorter than Maggie, even in her insanely high heels. She wore a tailored blouse tucked into a short, dark skirt. Her skin was perfect, her nails long and painted and her hair curled to her shoulders. She was the very essence of everything female. Maggie suddenly felt tall and awkward. Not to mention seriously underdressed in her jeans and T-shirt. She didn’t want to imagine what Victoria would think about the coveralls she had in her duffel.

“You are Maggie, aren’t you?”

“Most days.”

Victoria laughed. “Welcome to the palace. It’s great here.”

“Is there a map?”

“If only. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been lost. We need internal GPS or something. They could implant us with a chip and track us.” She wrinkled her nose. “On second thought, maybe not. Are you really here to fix a car?”

“Work on one. I’m restoring an old Rolls-Royce.” She thought about going into more detail, but figured the other woman’s eyes would glaze over.

“On purpose?”

“It’s not going to happen otherwise.”

“I never got the car thing.”

Maggie looked at Victoria’s perfect outfit. “I never got the clothes thing. I hate shopping.”

“I shop enough for two so you’re covered. Come on. I’ll show you the way.”

Victoria waited while Maggie grabbed her duffel.

“Do I want to know what’s in there?” the other woman asked.

Maggie thought about her personal tools and coveralls. “No.”

“Good to know. The El Deharian palace was originally built in the eighth century. There are still parts of the old exterior walls visible. I can show you later, if you’d like. The main structure is broken down into four quadrants, much like the interior of a cathedral, but without the religious implication. There is artwork from around the world on display. At any given time, the paintings alone are valued at nearly a billion dollars.”

Victoria pointed to a painting on a wall. “An early Renoir. Just a little FYI, don’t even think about taking it back to your room for a private viewing. It’s protected by a state-of-the-art security system. However, if you insist on trying, rumor is they’ll take you down to the dungeon and cut off your head.”

“Good to know,” Maggie murmured. “I don’t know much about art. I’ll keep it that way. How do you know so much about the palace?”

“I like to read. There’s a lot of great history here. Plus I’ve been asked to fill in a few times when foreign dignitaries want a private tour after dinner when the regular tour staff has gone home.”

“You live here—in the palace?”

“Just down the hall. I’ve been here nearly two years.” She paused at a staircase. “Look at that hideous baby in the painting.” She pointed to a large oil painting on the wall. “It’s the easiest way to remember your wing and floor. Trust me, most of the other art is much more attractive.”

“Good to know.”

Victoria started down the stairs. “As live-in staff you’re entitled to a whole bundle of goodies. Free laundry, access to the kitchen. I will warn you that you have to be careful with the food. You can really pack on the pounds in a heartbeat. I gained the freshman fifteen when I first moved here. Now I make sure I walk everywhere.”

Maggie eyed her high heels. “In those?”

“Of course. They go with my outfit.”

“Don’t they hurt?”

“Not until about four in the afternoon.”

Victoria led her downstairs, then along a long corridor that led to the rear garden. At least Maggie thought it was the rear garden. It looked a little like what she and Qadir had passed through the day before.

“Back to the kitchen,” Victoria said. “You can call in your request at any time. They do post a menu online, so if you want to just order from that, they’ll love you more. Everything is delicious. Unless you want to weigh four hundred pounds, avoid the desserts.” She looked at Maggie. “Of course, you’re probably one of those annoying women who doesn’t have to watch what she eats.”

“I’m pretty physically active during my day,” Maggie admitted.

“Great. And here I thought we’d be friends.” She pulled a key out of her skirt which, apparently, had a pocket, and passed it over. “You have private access. Very impressive.”

She waited while Maggie unlocked the side door, then they stepped into the massive garage.

Victoria paused by the door as the automatic lights came on, but Maggie walked directly to the Rolls, stopping only when she could touch the smooth lines of the perfect beauty.

Victoria paused behind her. “It’s, um, old.”

“A classic.”

“And dirty. And kind of in bad shape. You can fix that?”

Maggie nodded, already visualizing what the car could be. “I’m going to be searching for original parts, if I can find them. It will be a pain, but in the end, I want her exactly as she was.”

“Okay, then. Sounds like fun.” Victoria walked to a door. “This is your office.”

Office? Maggie had expected a bay in the garage and a toolbox. She got an office, too?

The space was large, clean and fully equipped. In addition to the desk with a computer, there were bookshelves filled with catalogs and a wall-size tool organizer.

Victoria opened the desk drawer and pulled out a credit card. “Yours. You are allowed to get whatever you need for the car. Qadir has placed no restrictions on your spending. I’m thinking you’ll want to avoid a trip to the Bahamas, however. What with the whole beheading thing.”

Maggie laughed. “Thanks for the tip. Is this really for me?”

“All of it. I was in here late yesterday and set up your computer. You’re already connected to the Internet.”

“Thanks.” Maggie had been excited about the job before—working on the Rolls would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for her. But to have all this, too, was unbelievable. “Guess I’m not still in Kansas.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Colorado. Aspen.”

“It’s supposed to be beautiful there.”

“It is.”

“How’d you end up in El Deharia?” Victoria asked. As she spoke, she rested one hip on the desk.

Maggie figured with those shoes, she would want to stay off her feet as much as possible.

“My dad had talked to Qadir about restoring the car. They were still working the deal when my dad got sick. Cancer. Things were put on hold, then he died and I decided I wanted the job.”

It was the simple version of the story, Maggie thought, not wanting to tell someone she’d barely met that she had been forced to sell the business to pay for medical bills and that this job with Prince Qadir was her only chance of keeping her promise to her father about buying it back.

“I’m sorry about your loss,” Victoria said. “That has to be hard. Is your mom still alive?”

“No. She died when I was a baby. It was just my dad and me, but it was great. I loved being with him in the shop and learning about cars.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s a handy skill.” Victoria tilted her head so her curls fell. “So that’s all this is about? A job?”

“What else would it be?”

“Marrying a prince. That’s why I’m here.”

Maggie blinked. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not very well,” Victoria admitted with a sigh. “I work for Prince Nadim—he’s one of Qadir’s cousins. I keep waiting for him to notice me, but so far, it’s not happening. Still, I have faith. One day he’ll look up, see me and be swept away.”

Maggie wasn’t sure what to say. “You don’t sound like you’re madly in love with him.”

“I’m not,” Victoria said with a grin. “Love is dangerous and for fools. I’m keeping my heart safely out of the game. But what little girl doesn’t want to grow up and be a princess?”

There had to be more to the story than that, Maggie thought. Victoria was too friendly and open to only care about money. Or maybe not. Maggie didn’t have that many female friends. Most women were put off by the car thing.

Victoria glanced at her watch. “I have to get back.” She bent over the desk and scribbled down a number. “That’s my cell. Call me if you have any questions, or if you want to have dinner or something. The palace is beautiful, but it can be a little scary at first. Not to mention lonely. We can hang out.”

“Eat dessert?”

Victoria sighed. “Yes, and then I’ll have to take the stairs even more than I do. Good luck with the car.”

As Maggie watched her go, she wondered if Victoria really meant what she said—about wanting to marry Prince Nadim. She supposed there were women who were more interested in what the man could provide than the character of the man himself. Not something that would interest her.

Unfortunately, thinking about men made her think about Jon. She hated that she still missed him and that seeing everything around the palace made her want to call him. He would appreciate what she was going through. Knowing him, he would even understand her ambivalence about their situation now.

But calling wasn’t an option. He was in love with Elaine. That fact shouldn’t mean she and Jon couldn’t be friends, but the truth was, things were different. They could never go back and she couldn’t figure out a way to go forward.

“Don’t think about it,” she told herself, then looked at the credit card Victoria had left with her. She didn’t enjoy shopping for girly stuff, but when cars or car parts were involved, she could really get into it. “So let’s take you for a test drive,” she told the card, “and see what you can do.”

Maggie typed in the amount, held back a wince and pushed Enter on the computer. Less than a second later, her bid amount showed on the page. She clapped her hands, then groaned when someone outbid her by two dollars.

She wanted that part. She needed that part. Maybe she should just offer the full price and get the stupid thing now, without worrying about it.

Practicality battled with how she’d been raised and frugality nearly won. It was ridiculous to pay the full amount when she might be able to get the part for less. However, she did have to budget her time and as Prince Qadir was incredibly rich, she wasn’t sure he would care that she’d saved him twenty bucks.

Still, it took a couple of deep breaths before she typed in the “pay this amount and buy it now” price. She writhed in her chair a couple of seconds before pushing Enter.

“Are you in pain?”

She turned toward the speaker and saw Prince Qadir stepping into her office.

“Is it serious?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She hesitated, not sure if she should rise or bow or what. “I’m ordering parts online.”

“A simple enough action.”

“It’s an auction. I’ve been bidding all morning. Someone else keeps topping me by a couple of dollars.”

“Then offer enough to push him out of the battle.”

“That’s what I did.”

“Good.”

“I probably could have gotten the part for less if I’d waited.”

“Do you think that is important to me? The bargain?”

She looked at him, at his tailored suit and blinding white shirt. He looked like a successful executive…a very handsome executive.

“No one likes to be taken,” she said.

“Agreed, but there is a time and a place to barter. I doubt there is a huge market for parts for my car, but what market there is will be competitive. I want you to win.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“But you do not approve.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Your expression. You would prefer to bargain and wait.”

“I want you to get your car at a fair price.”

He smiled. “An excellent idea. I appreciate the fairness of your concern. Perhaps a balance of both would be easiest.”

He had a great smile, she thought absently. She hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about princes, but she supposed she would have assumed they were stern and serious. Or total playboys. She’d seen plenty of those during the season in Aspen. But Qadir didn’t seem to be either.

“I’ll do what I can,” she said. “It’s just I’m used to getting the best price.”

“While I am used to getting the best.”

With his family fortune, he always did, she thought humorously.

“Must be nice,” she murmured.

“It is.”

Maggie smiled. “At least you’re clear about it.” She rose and walked to the printer. “Here’s a list of all the parts I’ve ordered so far. I’ll start disassembling her tomorrow. I haven’t seen much rust, which is great. Once I get her into pieces, I can figure out exactly what needs replacing. For now, I’ve just been ordering the obvious stuff.”

She handed him the printout. Qadir studied it, even as he was aware of the woman next to him. She was an interesting combination of confidence and insecurity.

He knew from personal experience that many people were uncomfortable around him at first. They did not know what was expected. He’d asked one of the American secretaries to help Maggie get settled, but only time would make his new mechanic comfortable in his presence.

He reminded himself that being comfortable wasn’t required for her to complete the job.

She was nothing like the women who drifted in and out of his life. No designer clothes, no artfully arranged hair, no expensive perfumes and jewels. In a way she reminded him of Whitney. There had been no pretense with her, either.

He pushed the memory away before it formed, knowing there was no point in the remembering.

“I’ll want to pull out the engine in the next couple of weeks,” Maggie was saying. “You told me you could help with that.” She paused. “Not physically, of course. I mean hiring people. Not that you’re not terribly strong and manly.” She groaned. “I didn’t just say that.”

Qadir laughed. “You did and it is a compliment I will treasure. Not enough people comment on my manly strength. They should do so more often.”

Maggie flushed. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Because you earned it.”

“Hey, back off. You’re the prince. I get to be a little nervous around you. This is a strange situation.”

He liked that she didn’t back down. “Fair enough. Yes, I have a team you can use to pull out the engine. I have several local resources. I will e-mail them to you. Mention my name—it will improve the response.”

“Do you have a little crown logo you put in your signature line?” she asked.

“Only on formal documents. You may have to go to England for some of your purchases. I have contacts there, as well.”

“Any of them with the royal family?”

“I doubt Prince Charles will be of much help.”

“Just a thought.”

“He’s too old for you, and married.”

Maggie laughed. “Thanks, but he’s also not my type.”

“Not looking for a handsome prince? Some of the women here have exactly that in mind. Or perhaps a foreign diplomat.”

Maggie glanced away. “Not my style. Besides, I work with cars. Not exactly future princess material.” She held out her weathered hands. “I’m more of a doer than someone who is comfortable just sitting around looking pretty.”

“That is the monarchy’s loss.”

She laughed again. “Very smooth. You’re good.”

“Thank you.”

“The women must be lined up for miles.”

He smiled. “There’s a waiting area over by the garden.”

“I hope it’s covered. You don’t want them getting sunburned.”

As she spoke she leaned against the desk. She was tall. He couldn’t see much of her shape under the coveralls she wore, but he remembered how she had looked the previous day and was intrigued. Curves and a personality, not to mention humor. How often did he find that combination?

A flicker of heat burst to life inside him, making him wonder how she would taste if he kissed her. Not that he was going to. He was far more interested in her abilities as a mechanic than her charms as a woman. But a man could wonder…

He amused himself by imagining his father’s reaction if he were to start dating Maggie. Would the monarch be horrified, or would he be pleased to see yet another of his sons settling down? Not that it mattered. Speculation was one thing, but acting was another—and he had no plans to act.

“I come bearing food,” Victoria said as she stepped into the garage. “One of the cooks told me you never get away for lunch. He assumes you don’t appreciate his culinary masterpieces. Trust me, those are people you don’t want to annoy.”

Maggie straightened and set down her wrench, then pulled off her gloves. “Thanks for the warning. I’ve been so busy pulling everything apart, I haven’t stopped to eat.”

Victoria set the basket on a cart. “Let me guess. You’re one of those annoying people who forgets to eat.”

“Sometimes.”

“Then we’ll never be really, really close.”

Maggie laughed. “I think you’re a strong enough person to overlook that flaw. Come on. Let’s go eat in my office. It’s cleaner there.”

While Maggie washed her hands in the small bathroom, Victoria set out their lunch. She’d brought a salad with walnuts, arugula and Gorgonzola. Several mini sandwiches on fresh foccacia bread, fruit, drinks and chocolate-chip cookies that were still warm.

“I thought I was supposed to avoid dessert,” Maggie said as she took her seat.

Victoria settled in the one opposite. “It’s your fault. I had to placate the cooks.” She slipped off her high heels and wiggled her toes. “Heaven.”

“Why do you wear those if they hurt?”

“They don’t all hurt. Besides, without them, I feel short and unimpressive. Plus men really like women in high heels.”

Maggie laughed. “I’ve never thought about being impressive. And I’ve never tried to get a man that way. By being attractive.”

“You could in a heartbeat,” Victoria told her as she speared a piece of lettuce. “I would kill for your bone structure.”

The compliment pleased Maggie. She’d always thought of herself as a tomboy. Girls like Victoria usually avoided her.

“How is it working with Qadir?” Victoria asked.

“Great. He really wants me to make the car perfect, which is what I want, too. I love not having a budget. It’s very freeing. The progress is going to be slow at first, which he understands. I appreciate that. He’s—”

She pressed her lips together as Victoria raised her eyebrows. “What?” Maggie asked.

“Nothing. I’m glad he’s an excellent boss.”

“That’s what you asked me.”

“I meant as a man.”

“Oh.” Maggie grabbed a sandwich. “He’s fine.”

Victoria laughed. “He’s a sheik prince worth billions. He’s one of the most sought-after bachelors in the world and all you can say is he’s fine?”

Maggie grinned. “How about really fine?”

“Better, but still. You’re really not interested in him.”

“Not as anything but the man who pays me.”

“Interesting. Then I guess you won’t be angling for an invitation to the ball.”

Maggie nearly choked. “There’s going to be a ball?”

“Uh-huh. To celebrate Prince As’ad’s engagement to Kayleen. They’ve been together for a while now, but no one was supposed to know. The official announcement was put off until Princess Lina, the king’s sister, married King Hassan of Baharia a few weeks ago. Anyway, the ball is where the news is made public and everyone who works in the palace is invited. Apparently when the guest list is a thousand, what’s a couple hundred more?”

“I’ve never been to a ball,” Maggie admitted. Her only frame of reference was cartoons with princesses as stars and she hadn’t really been into watching them.