To Wed a Sheikh

“Sufficient funds have been allocated for your early childhood education program,” Kamal informed her.

“Excellent.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you all at dinner tonight.”

“Wait,” Crystal said, standing. “I have to go, too. The twins will be finished with their art lesson shortly. I love seeing their drawings.” She kissed his other cheek. “Bye, all. Ali it was great to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she answered.

“I’m afraid I must go as well.” Aunt Farrah placed her empty teacup on the table and stood. “Ali, thank you for coming. If there is anything you require while you’re in the hospital’s employ, I insist you let me know.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

When everyone left, Kamal was alone with only two women—one very pregnant. The other disturbed him more than she had just several hours before. The laughter she’d provoked had briefly disarmed him.

“Kamal, Ali asked me to show her around my suite. I’m so glad she’s here. The doctor scared me. He said high blood pressure during my pregnancy could put the baby in danger.”

“And you, too,” Ali warned. “But let’s not borrow trouble. It’s important you stay calm.”

“I was very calm,” the girl said, “until he told me all the horrible things that could happen to my baby. But you made me feel better.”

“I’m glad.”

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have to—” She looked at her brother. “That is, I need to—”

“Use the bedpan—so to speak?” Ali finished for her.

“Yes!” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her brother. “Keep Ali company. Be nice.”

“I am always eminently cordial,” he said. That was the second time it had been implied that his formality could be intimidating. He was merely being polite.

His sister rolled her eyes without reply, then left the room. Leaving him alone with Ali.

“I wish to know the truth,” he said. “Her blood pressure? Is it serious?”

“Dr. McCullough takes pregnancy very seriously. And so do I.”

“As do I. But is there danger to my sister?”

“Not immediate. Everything I said to her is absolutely true. There’s nothing for you to be alarmed about.”

“On the contrary. When a woman is with child there is always cause for concern. Johara’s mother died from pregnancy complications. A rare condition, we were told, but she was still gone. My sister was five years old.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, obviously shocked. “I didn’t know.”

“It was many years ago. But about my sister. She’s young—merely in her teens. It would seem to me youth would be in her favor.”

“On the contrary. Teens are at high risk for PIH—pregnancy-induced hypertension. High blood pressure,” she explained. “If left untreated, it can cause seizures.”

“What can be done?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

“Bed rest. Medication if necessary. Swelling is a symptom—”

“But my sister’s ankles are swollen. She often says she’s retaining enough water to raise the level of the Arabian Sea.”

Ali smiled at the exaggeration. “That’s normal. Swelling in the hands and face isn’t. You need to watch her for—”

Johara came back in the room pressing a hand to her lower back. “I can’t believe I will be a mother in a few short weeks. Part of me is very anxious to see my baby and hold him. But another part of me is afraid of the process of bringing him into the world.”

“You’ll do fine,” Ali assured her.

“Aunt Farrah tells me it doesn’t hurt. But I don’t know whether or not to believe her.”

“People tolerate pain differently,” Ali said, cautiously diplomatic.

“She’s never given birth,” Kamal said wryly.

“Oh. That would tend to cancel out her opinion.” Ali put her arm around Johara and led her to the sofa, then gently settled her on it. She sat down beside the teenager. “I’ve never had a child either, but I’ve been present at many births. Without firsthand experience, I can only give you my impressions. There is pain. But there are medications to help manage it. Next week when you see the doctor we can talk about those things. Knowledge is power. The more you know, the more in control you’ll feel.”

“I think so, too,” she agreed. “What do you think, Kamal?”

“What Ali says makes a lot of sense. She’s studied and worked hard in her field. You should be glad she agreed to work in our country.”

“Oh, I am. But I wish—” Johara lowered her gaze to the clasped hands in her lap.

“What, little one?” he asked gently.

“I wish my mother was here.”

Kamal tried to understand. He’d lost his own mother when he was but ten years old and didn’t remember what it was like to rely on anyone else. Because that was the first time he’d seen his father anything but strong and in control. Five years later the king had married Johara’s mother then lost her as well. He’d staggered beneath the grief of losing another beloved wife and the weakness took a profound toll. It was then Kamal had vowed love would never bring him to his knees that way.

Kamal sat on her other side and touched a finger beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “If I could bring her back for you, I would in a heartbeat.”

Unhappiness settled over her delicate features. “I have no father—”

“Yes, you do—”

She shook her head. “No. You heard him. When he learned of my baby he said I am no longer his daughter. Ever since, he has only spoken to me when absolutely necessary and always in anger. I have shamed him and he will never forgive me. I am worse than dead to him.”

Kamal feared she was correct. “Give him time, Johara. Until then, know this. You are not alone. I will be with you.”

“You are so good to me. There is something I would ask,” she said, taking his hand between her two smaller ones.

From the time she was very little, she’d followed him around and looked up to him. He cared deeply for his only sister, this fragile woman/child of beauty, spirit and fierce independence. “You have only to name your pleasure, little sister, and I will make it so. Ask of me anything.”

“I want Ali to move into the palace and be with me until my baby is born.”

Anything but that.

Chapter Two

Stay in the palace?

Ali hadn’t seen that one coming. Stupid, but true. She sank into the cushy plushness of the semicircular white sofa and thought, there were adventures. And there were adventures. It’s why she’d come to El Zafir in the first place.

It’s also why she’d agreed to accompany the doctor on this house call—or should she say palace call. The chance to have a gander at the inside of the royal palace was irresistible. But staying there 24–7? A girl from the wrong side of the tracks in Nowhere, Texas? That could be pushing the adventure envelope too far. She’d feel like a guppy in a garden chair.

Kamal’s gaze gave no hint of his reaction to the request as he studied her. Then he looked at his sister who sat beside him. He took her hand protectively into his own.

“Johara, is that really necessary? The palace physician is here and—”

“He is not an obstetrician.”

“Neither is Ali,” he pointed out.

“But she works with my doctor. She understands these things and I feel comfortable with her.”

“You wound me, little one. I am your brother. I wish to be here for you and I thought you were untroubled in my presence. Am I—what is that American saying?”

“Chopped liver,” Ali supplied.

“Exactly. Am I chopped liver?”

“You are a man, Kamal.”

Same thing, Ali thought. When he frowned, she was afraid she’d either voiced her opinion or he’d read her mind. Either way she would be toast. But he didn’t say anything.

The princess rested her head on his shoulder in a conciliatory gesture. “I do not wish to offend you. But at a time like this, a woman wants another woman with her.”

“You have Penny and Crystal,” he said. “I’m certain it would make them happy to be available to you.”

She shook her head. “They are newly married and they do not have medical training. Besides, I do not wish to intrude on their happiness.”

“They are married to your brothers who are as concerned for your welfare as I.”

“I do not wish to take my brothers’ wives from them at a time when their focus should be on starting their new lives. And families.”

Ali watched the exchange between brother and sister. The crown prince’s reaction was very interesting. Until this moment, she hadn’t thought royalty could sweat or squirm. Unless she missed her guess, he was darn close to doing both. But what was the problem? Maybe it had something to do with that invisible line between royalty and commoners. He was cordial and polite, but he wanted her at a distance.

Ali held up her hand. “Excuse me, but—”

“Might I suggest Aunt Farrah?” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of Johara’s dark head. “She is a single woman and has been like a mother to you since you lost your own.”

“Our aunt has indeed been very good to me. But she has no personal or practical knowledge to offer on the subject of childbearing,” Johara protested. “As you said, she’s never had a baby.”

“Nor has Ali,” he said, his gaze sliding to hers.

Now she was starting to squirm. It might be a stretch for royalty, but peasants like herself had a great deal of experience in the art of sweating and squirming. How could she diplomatically excuse herself so brother and sister could discuss this privately? She didn’t relish being on the spot and talked about as if she wasn’t there.

Johara turned her big, black eyes on her brother. “As we also said, Ali is a nurse trained in labor and delivery. She’s been present in that capacity at many births. She has experience. Her presence in the palace at night will calm my nerves. And the doctor said I should remain calm. Why are you hesitating, Kamal?”

A good question. Ali was wondering the same thing. He met her gaze but his own was unreadable.

“Ali has come halfway around the world and is settled in the American compound,” he said. “It would be presumptuous to ask her to disrupt her life once again. Besides, the palace is farther from the hospital.”

“Five minutes away,” Johara protested. “Ten at the most.”

Just what Ali was going to say.

“This could be an unpardonable imposition, little sister. It is not as if you have no one else to turn to.”

“It can’t hurt to ask her.”

He leaned down and kissed his sister’s cheek. “I think you should get some rest. You look fatigued.”

“I am a little tired,” she agreed.

“I will handle this,” he said. “Go and lie down. Never fear. You will come to no harm. I will see to it.”

She nodded. “Ali, thank you for staying with me. I appreciate it very much.”

“You’re welcome.”

When his sister was gone, Kamal stood and walked to the other side of the glass-topped coffee table. “I apologize if my sister’s request has made you uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t the request, but his attitude that made her ill at ease. But probably it wasn’t appropriate to say that to a prince. Especially the prince whose pet project was the hospital where she worked. If he wanted to throw his royal weight around and fire her, who would tell him he couldn’t do it?

Her world wouldn’t come to an end if she lost her job, but it would put a serious speed bump in the path of solidifying her future. And what other position would afford her the adventure opportunity of a lifetime? She should let His Royal Snootiness off the hook and say thanks, but no thanks. Except she had a perverse impulse to not make it easy on him.

“Your sister has nothing to apologize for.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Meaning I have done something which requires an apology?”

She decided not to answer that directly. “Princess Johara is young, pregnant and scared. She merely said she wanted me to stay with her. That in no way made me uncomfortable. It was your reaction that puzzles me. Why don’t you want me here?”

“I have no feelings one way or the other. I was merely attempting to let my sister know that it is thoughtless to turn other people’s lives upside down at her whim. Some are intimidated and do not realize it is permissible to refuse a request from a member of the royal family.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m not intimidated,” she lied. “I can stand up for myself and say no.”

“Then I will tell her that you are unable to accept her invitation to live here in the palace until her baby is born.” His tone was rife with male satisfaction and it bugged her.

“That’s not what I meant. I am able to accept. I’m just not certain I want to.” She had the satisfaction of surprising him. It was written all over his handsome face.

“Is that so?”

“You’ve presumed to know what I would do.” What happened to her polite thanks, but no thanks? Where was this spine of steel coming from? From his mightier-than-thou attitude, that’s where, she thought. “If you want to know my answer, try asking me.”

By gum, if she wanted to stay in the royal palace with his sister, she would do it.

His dark eyebrows rose and he straightened to his full height, planting his feet just a little wider apart. He reminded her of the conquering hero surveying his victory. It was a good look and he wore it well. But she couldn’t help feeling it was also body language to let her know he was the boss and she hadn’t backed him into a corner.

“As you wish,” he said in his velvet-smooth voice. “Would you agree to my sister’s request to live in the palace for several weeks until her baby arrives? Before you answer, be advised that my sister will be well taken care of if you wish to say no.”

That did it. He wanted her to refuse. That pushed some major buttons. She was mistress of her fate and no one was going to make her decisions for her. “I would be happy to accept Princess Johara’s invitation.”

Before he could mask it, his dark eyes narrowed and his mouth compressed into a straight line. She knew as surely as if he’d said it out loud—he’d thought she would turn him down. He didn’t want her to stay in the royal palace. And why should he? She wasn’t royal palace material. She wasn’t even the right kind of daughter material. Her own father had walked out on her and her mother to marry someone with higher social standing.

But come on. Even if Kamal knew all that ancient history about her, it had no bearing on this situation. What was his problem? This place was so big it wasn’t as if they would be tripping over each other. He never had to see her. Suddenly she realized how much she wanted to stay. As adventures went, this assignment was a plum among plums. It was the crunchy chocolate coating on the vanilla ice-cream bar.

“Is my sister in imminent danger?” he asked.

“If you’re asking whether or not it’s really necessary for me to be in residence, the answer is no. All my presence will do is give the princess some peace of mind.”

“I do not wish to interfere with the duties at the hospital for which you were hired.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. As long as Johara knows I have a job to do. If she’s okay with my being here after work, then I would like to accept the invitation.”

“Very well, then.”

“Okay.” Ali nodded. Although she had no frame of reference for living in a palace. But this would undoubtedly be her only chance to experience it. And isn’t that what coming here was all about? A fabulous job in an exciting country? Her situation just got more fabulous and definitely more exciting. Adventure, here I come, she thought.

And if she ran into Kamal in the hallway, he could feel free to ignore her. She would simply smile and say hello because a person could never go wrong being polite.

And if her heart beat a little faster and her palms grew damp, he would never know. And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Right?

“I will inform my aunt that you will be moving into the palace.”

Right.

“Something is wrong, Kamal?” Aunt Farrah sat on her pristine sofa drinking a before-dinner sherry.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?”

Behind her on the light tan-colored wall hung a tapestry depicting a scene from El Zafirian history reflecting the courageous exploits of one of his ancestors. He’d always especially liked this particular wall hanging among the many expensive paintings his father’s sister collected. History was his passion. Someday he hoped to take his place with favorable marks from the historians.

“This is me,” she said. “I’ve known you since you were born. From the time you were a small boy when there was something troubling you, the vein in your forehead began to throb. It is throbbing now.”

“You’re joking,” he said, even as he touched that particular spot.

She merely smiled. “What is it you wish to discuss with me that couldn’t wait until the family gathers for dinner in a little while?”

“Ali Matlock.”

“It’s about time,” she murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“I said it’s fine.”

“What?” he asked.

“I spoke with Johara. She told me about asking Ali to stay with us in the palace until the baby is born. I think it’s a splendid idea.”

“Do you?” Kamal had the unsettling thought that men ruled at the pleasure of women. Power was meted out by the females around him. But surely he was mistaken.

“After what the doctor said today, it would ease my mind knowing there was a health-care professional here in the palace.”

“There’s a highly gifted physician in the palace at all times,” he reminded her.

“True. But having a nurse whose specialty is childbirth would be a comfort to Johara. And I must admit, although the doctor’s intention wasn’t to alarm us, I was fairly concerned following his examination of your sister.”

“As was I.”

He was also intrigued by the American nurse. From the first, he’d noticed her fairness of face. Today he’d found her feisty as well. If she hadn’t challenged him regarding his less-than-gracious behavior, he wouldn’t find her so, but she had. Had he been testing her? Not consciously, but now he knew if she had failed, he would have cheerfully forgotten her. But she’d made that impossible. And, for the foreseeable future, she would be living under his roof. He had yet to decide how he felt about it.

“Kamal, did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, Aunt. I have a matter of some importance on my mind.”

“As do I. Has Ali agreed to stay?”

“Yes. She will come after work in the hospital and spend the evenings here until my sister has her baby.”

There was a gleam in his aunt’s eyes as she nodded. “I will have the room next to Johara’s prepared.”

“Very well. If there is nothing further, I will leave the details in your capable hands and see you at dinner.” He started to turn away.

“Wait, Kamal. Since you’re here, there is another matter I wish to take up with you.”

“Yes?”

“Your father consulted with me on the matter of your wife.”

“I have no wife.”

She sighed. “Yes. That is the heart of what he consulted me about.”

“I do not understand why it was necessary for him to discuss my marital status with you.”

“Because you refuse to and he is concerned.” She set her delicate crystal sherry glass on the gold-inlaid coffee table. “It is time, Kamal.”

“I disagree.”

“You are not getting any younger. It is your duty as crown prince to marry and produce an heir to the throne.”

“I know what my duty is. But I see no reason to hurry the process.”

“Your behavior is proof of that.”

“To what are you referring?” he asked.

She sighed. “You are seen with many women, yet you do not seem interested in a single one of them.”

Until now, he thought, remembering the way Ali’s eyes sparkled with mischief during their exchange. He wished she was like all the other women he’d known.

“I do not wish to rush into anything. It is my intention that the union be enduring.”

“Again I must remind you I’ve known you since you were a baby. There are other reasons for your hesitation. I am aware of your sensitive nature.”

“Such emotion implies a weakness not permitted the man who will assume responsibility for his country’s people.”

“The line of succession will go to your brother’s son if necessary. But that is only as a last resort. You are the crown prince. It is your obligation to try.”

“And I have been, Aunt Farrah. But the woman I choose must possess certain qualities.”

Shaking her head in defeat, she said, “As I said, you must do your best to produce an heir. What steps will you take toward acquiring a bride to accomplish this?”

“Do not worry, Aunt. I will do what is expected of me.”

“You haven’t so far. Why should I believe you will now?”

“Because my father wishes it now.”

“That’s true. He has charged me to see that your duty is done soon. I must inquire how you will go about finding a suitable woman to marry. If you require assistance finding someone, I could—”

“I don’t.” He let out a long breath as he struggled to keep a tight rein on his temper in the presence of a female who was also a revered family member.

“I wish only to help. Would you like me to compile a report of suitable candidates?” She folded her hands in her lap and stared at him.

“Choosing a wife is not unlike hiring an assistant. She must have certain qualifications and I’m perfectly capable of procuring a suitable candidate for my bride.”

“As you wish,” she said, her gaze never wavering from his. “But it is imperative that you understand the depth of your father’s displeasure.”

“I think I understand.”

She shook her head. “No. But hear this. If you do not select a bride in a time frame acceptable to the king, the choice will no longer be yours.”

Irritation scratched at his nerves and he fought to keep his voice neutral. “It was my understanding that arranged marriages were a thing of the past in El Zafir.”

She sniffed. “Only because they have become unnecessary. But if you continue to procrastinate, the practice can easily be reinstated.”

“Very well. Your message is duly noted.” He swallowed his anger and the taste was bitter on his tongue.

He left his aunt and walked back to his suite of rooms to change for dinner. As a small boy his father had continuously reminded him that with great power comes great responsibility. Kamal had learned from watching his father that weakness of emotion was an undesirable flaw. No one understood duty better than Kamal Hassan. He would do what was expected of him. But before he did, he would have a final fling. Suddenly a vision of Ali Matlock came to mind.

Chapter Three

Dinner in the royal palace, Ali decided, was like being thrown into the deep end of the pool with no working knowledge of water safety and no arm floaties to keep her from sinking. One on one with Kamal was one thing. But the whole family together in a dining room that felt as big as her entire apartment at home was intimidating.

This environment of wealth and formal beauty was so far beyond her frame of reference, she could as easily be on another planet. The soft ting of goldware against china was an elegant, sophisticated sound she’d seldom heard and always in a restaurant. Nothing in her nurse’s training had prepared her for this. If someone choked on a crab-stuffed mushroom and became a candidate for the Heimlich Maneuver or clogged their arteries from froufrou food and needed CPR, then she was your gal.

A symptom of her intimidation was being tongue-tied. The silver lining to that was being able to observe her surroundings without interruption. If she’d been a brave little soldier who muddled forward, she wouldn’t have had as much opportunity to admire the crystal chandelier overhead and the graceful wall sconces that lighted the room with just the right amount of soft glow. Nor would she have been able to appreciate the arrangements of fresh flowers on the table and every other flat surface in the room.