The Prince & the Pregnant Princess

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Cleo told her truthfully.

Zara cleared her throat. “You know, there are a lot of opportunities in the city. The economy here is expanding and there’s always plenty of work.”

Cleo knew exactly where she was going. “Thanks for the suggestion, but I don’t think I’d fit in. I don’t exactly look like a local, plus, who’s going to hire the almost relative of the royal family?” She forced herself to laugh. “We’ll just have to do e-mail a lot.”

“I guess.” Zara’s answering smile faded. “Cleo, why did you run off so suddenly before? You still had a few days of vacation left, but you headed for home without warning.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just—” How to balance the truth with the need to keep her secret. “It was a lot of things. I could see that you needed time to bond with your new family. I wasn’t a part of that. Not only was I afraid of getting in the way, I didn’t exactly fit in.”

“You could never be in the way. I love you and I like having you around. I think the king has a soft spot for you, too.”

“He’s been very kind,” Cleo admitted, suddenly fighting tears. Pregnancy was the pits, she thought as she sniffed. “But I do have my own life back in Spokane.”

“Was Sadik part of your decision to leave?”

Cleo swallowed. “He was a lot of fun, but our relationship wasn’t anything important.” All lies, she thought, feeling guilty. Or maybe only half lies. She suspected their relationship hadn’t meant anything to Sadik. “We had a fling, and then it ended. It happens all the time, although probably more with him than with me.”

“He’s very good-looking.”

“I actually figured that out on my own. But come on. Me and a prince?” Cleo forced out a laugh. “Can you see that ever happening?”

Her heart hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. She desperately wanted Zara to protest, to say that of course everything would work out with Sadik, but that wasn’t going to happen. Zara didn’t have enough information to figure out what Cleo needed to hear, and even if she did, she wouldn’t lie.

Zara laughed, too. “I guess you’re right. He’s pretty arrogant.”

“I’m beginning to think that all princes are arrogant. It must be part of the training.”

Zara fingered her skirt. “Do you mind very much about Rafe? I mean that I’m marrying him?”

“No.” At least in this, Cleo could tell the truth. “You two are so in love. That makes me happy. You deserve someone wonderful in your life. I’m sorry we’re going to be living so far apart, but we can make that work. We’ll still be emotionally close, and you can tell me all about life with a sheik.”

Zara grinned. “I never thought I would be marrying a sheik. In his heart Rafe will always be American, which helps. He loves the desert, and the City of Thieves is amazing. He’s taken me there a couple of times. There’s so much history. I can’t wait to start exploring and studying.”

“That will keep you busy. Then you start having babies. You’re going to have a good life.”

“I hope so,” Zara admitted.

Cleo continued to smile, even though the tears threatened again. It’s not that she didn’t want Zara to be happy, but was it so wrong to want the same for herself?

She reminded herself that the best way to get through all this was to act normal and leave as quickly as possible after the wedding. Like the next day. The sooner she was back in the States, the safer she would feel.

Her stomach lurched slightly. Cleo gritted her teeth. Please, God, let her not throw up at that night’s dinner. Formal event or not, tossing her cookies would give everyone something to talk about and that’s exactly what she didn’t need.

Cleo stood at the entrance of the reception room. Her stomach was surprisingly calm, considering how nervous she felt. Nearly two hundred people were sipping cocktails and chatting with each other. The combined value of the clothing and jewelry was probably enough to match the gross national product of a small country. Cleo glanced down at her new finery, compliments of Zara, who had invited a couple of boutique owners to bring in their wares and then told Cleo to choose a new wardrobe.

The designer dress she wore wasn’t anyone’s idea of a castoff, yet Cleo couldn’t escape the sensation of once again being a charity case. Funny how she thought she’d left that behind her years ago. Since she’d moved out at eighteen, she’d been making her own way and paying her bills on time. She even had a nest egg, although by royal family standards, it was amazingly pitiful. But it was enough for her. The problem was, she couldn’t afford to keep up with the elite social circles in Bahania, and Zara knew it.

Four months ago Zara had been the one feeling weird about accepting gifts of clothing from her newly found father. Cleo had seen their time here as an adventure. Now she shared Zara’s reluctance. Did carrying Sadik’s baby make all that much difference?

Dumb question, she told herself as she headed for the bar. Her midnight-blue beaded dress swished as she walked. High-heeled gold pumps gave her a couple of inches of height, but what she liked best about her outfit was the loose style. It hinted at curves without actually hugging them. So far no one had noticed her bulging belly and she planned to keep it that way.

“Club soda,” she said when the bartender looked up.

She took the glass he offered and turned to survey the room. So these were the beautiful people, she thought as she sipped on her drink. They were certainly out of her league. If she had to make idle chitchat she would—

“I fear you grow more beautiful each time I see you.”

The wrapped-in-velvet voice made her tremble. She didn’t have to turn around to know who stood there.

“I didn’t think royal princes feared anything.” She glanced to her left and saw that Sadik had joined her. He looked fabulous in a tailored black tuxedo. It reminded her of the first time they’d met—when she’d taken one look at him and lost most of her common sense, not to mention a good part of her heart.

He took her free hand in his, brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. It was a courtly gesture that belonged to another time and place. Darn the man—it worked, anyway. She felt herself melting.

“So what’s new, Sadik?” she asked, determined to act completely normal. “How’s the stock market?”

“We do well.”

She didn’t bother asking how many billions he’d made that day. Sadik had a relationship with numbers that was completely foreign to her. She knew he had tripled the personal fortune of the family in fewer than six years. Given the uncertain world-economic situation, that bordered on a miracle.

“Are you excited about the wedding?” she asked, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything brilliant to say.

“My new sister seems happy with her choice in groom. Rafe is a good man. They are well matched.”

“She must be relieved to know she has your blessing. I know the uncertainty of getting it was keeping her up nights.”

His gaze narrowed. “Even now you defy me. Why do you play a game you can’t win?”

“I’m not interested enough to play with you anymore. As for winning—it wasn’t very interesting when I won last time.”

He sucked in a breath. “I was the victor.”

He had been, too. He’d seduced her in a heartbeat and had left her begging for more. Not that she was going to admit that to him. “Whatever. I really don’t remember.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. Had she been one of the king’s pet cats, she would have purred.

“Your mouth tells lies, but I see the truth in your eyes. The passion is as it always was between us. Your attempts to resist me will only make us both more hungry.”

“You managed to forget about me for the four months I was gone, Sadik. The fact that you’re paying attention to me now simply means that I’ve turned up on your radar. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that isn’t the least bit flattering—nor am I interested.”

She had more to say, but at that moment she was saved by the bell…literally. The head butler rang a gong that announced it was time for dinner. Cleo took the opportunity to duck away from Sadik before he could trap her with him.

How could she have blurted that out to him? If he had a single, functioning brain cell—and she happened to know he had more than the average working guy—he would figure out that her feelings were hurt by the fact that he’d let her go and hadn’t once bothered to get in touch with her. She didn’t want him thinking that he mattered. She didn’t want him thinking about her at all. He already had too much power over her sexually. The last thing she needed was him using her fragile emotions against her, too.

She walked into the main dining room and had a moment of panic at the thought that they might be seated next to each other. Several long tables filled the smaller of the formal dining rooms in the palace. Cleo found her name on the seating chart, then drew in a relieved breath when she saw the seats next to her were already taken. Rafe sat on her right, which meant Zara was next to him. A least she would be close to a semi-family member. On her left was a man she didn’t know, but he seemed friendly enough when he greeted her and held out her chair.

“Jonathan Grant,” he said easily, holding out his hand.

“Cleo Wilson,” she said, and settled in her chair. Rafe turned and gave her a wink before returning his attention to Zara.

Cleo took a moment to glance around the room. During her first stay in the palace, she’d explored several of the public rooms. She’d even almost begun to understand the floor plan. This particular dining room was used for smaller formal events. The wall tapestries dated back to the fifteenth century and showed the various explorers who had made their way to Bahania. Four marble statues stood in the corners. At the far end of the room was a raised dais for a small orchestra. Several crystal chandeliers provided light.

Everything glittered, especially the well-dressed people. How happy they must be that the king agreed to keep his cats out of the room on evenings such as these.

“What’s so funny?” Jonathan asked.

He was an attractive man in his late forties. Cleo picked up her water glass. “I was thinking that a couple of loose cats could do a lot of damage with their shedding in this group.”

Jonathan grinned. “I’m still picking off hairs from my last visit here. Black suit, white cat. I swear I heard her laughing as she rubbed against me.”

Cleo chuckled at the image. As she did so, she felt something intense, as if…

She raised her head. Sadik might not be next to her, but he was across from her. The table was wide enough to keep them from talking easily, but that didn’t matter. It was enough to know he was there. There and watching her. She deliberately turned back to her seatmate.

“What business brings you to Bahania?” she asked.

Jonathan looked faintly surprised at the question. “I’m the American ambassador.”

Heat instantly flared on her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under the table. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t actually live in Bahania and, well…” Her voice trailed off. Did it matter that she didn’t live here? Her circle of friends had never included an ambassador.

“I should have done a better job of introducing myself,” he said easily. “As your sister is Princess Zara, I assumed you would have been told about me.”

So he knew who she was. Figures. Life could be annoyingly unfair. “So far Zara and I have pretty much talked about the wedding. You know—girl stuff.”

“I have three daughters so I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

The fact that he had children made her able to put aside her faux pas. As dinner was served, she found herself chatting easily with Jonathan. He explained that his wife had returned home to the States to get their oldest settled at college and visit family.

All through the various courses Cleo did her best to ignore Sadik’s watchful gaze. He was polite enough to converse with the women on either side of him, but she would have bet he barely heard what they were saying. He was too busy glaring at her.

When the dessert plates had been cleared away, the waiters brought out trays of open champagne bottles. The bubbly liquid was served, and King Hassan rose to toast his daughter.

Cleo joined in the applause and, at the appropriate time, raised her glass to her lips but was careful not to swallow. Conflicting emotions swelled up inside of her. She was deeply happy for her sister. Zara deserved all her joy. But the knowledge that things would never be the same between them made Cleo feel hollow inside.

The king ended the meal by inviting everyone to dance in the main ballroom. As Cleo pushed back her seat, she could already hear the strains of music. But with her heavy heart and suddenly unsettled stomach, what she wanted more than anything was to hurry back to her room for a quiet pity party and a good movie. She nearly made it to the far door before she was caught.

“The American ambassador is happily married.”

Cleo spun toward Sadik. “Number one, stop sneaking up on me. It’s annoying. Number two, I know all about Jonathan’s wife and his daughters. We had a lovely time chatting together and don’t you dare turn it into something sleazy.”

His dark eyes were unreadable. A muscle twitched in his jaw. She half expected him to throw her over his shoulder and spirit her away. A part of her would have welcomed being in his bed, regardless of the price. Fortunately, all he did was lead her toward the ballroom, then pull her into his arms for a dance.

They moved without speaking. Cleo let herself relax to the rhythm of the music. Maybe it was madness, but being with Sadik felt like coming home.

Despite the height difference, they danced well together. She easily anticipated his moves. The heat from his body made her feel safe.

Safe, she thought sadly. There was a unique concept. She might be many things with the prince, but the least of them was safe.

“You should go bother a skinny, tall brunette and leave me alone,” she grumbled.

“You should stop talking. You’re spoiling our moment together.”

“Is that what we’re having?”

“Yes. And you’re enjoying it. Besides, I want no other woman but you.”

His words sank down to her heart, ripping away protective layers of common sense. She knew he was only talking about sex, but she couldn’t help wishing…wanting…something more. Sadik held her close enough that she could feel the call of his body. She took the half step closer, nestling herself against him. His only response was to sigh softly.

For a time, with her pregnancy, her breasts had been extremely tender. That symptom had faded so she could now enjoy the sensation of pressing close to his hard chest. Against her will, memories flooded her as she remembered what it had been like to be with him. She recalled the way he’d touched her everywhere. Slowly, almost worshiping her body. He’d made her feel physically perfect.

Cleo closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the past and the pain it brought. If it was only sex, she could find the will to resist. But she and Sadik had shared so much more. When they had satiated themselves after an hour or two, they had talked. First of inconsequential matters, but eventually they had shared the details of their past. She’d heard about the lonely child growing up in a world of wealth and privilege, ignored by his parents and raised by a nanny, then a tutor. She’d glossed over the first ten years of her life but had told him about going to live with Zara and her mother.

She had allowed herself to believe that she’d gotten past the arrogant shell to the actual man beneath. She’d told herself that she mattered to him. She’d been wrong on both counts.

“Come to me tonight,” he breathed in her ear. “We can rediscover paradise together.”

Cleo was so tempted she nearly fainted. Knowing that he wanted her made her long to give in. Apparently being around Sadik still made her forget all that was important. She took a half second to try to convince herself that it was okay to be weak and spineless, then she remembered what was at stake.

She did her best to look bored as she raised her gaze to his. “I’m seriously flattered, but I’d rather not. You’re a great guy, Sadik, really. But the thing is, I’ve met someone else. We hooked up shortly after I returned to Spokane.”

Sadik raised dark eyebrows. “You have another man in your life? What is his name?”

Her mind went completely blank. Ah…a name. Any name. “Rick. He’s in plumbing.” Internally she winced. “He’s fabulous. We met and it was love at first sight. Really. Right there in front of my kitchen sink.” She widened her eyes, hoping for a look of sincerity.

Sadik did not look convinced. “Your sister hasn’t mentioned this Rick person.”

“I didn’t say anything to her. Zara is so caught up in the wedding and everything. I didn’t want to distract her.” Cleo swallowed. She’d never been a very good liar. Maybe she should have practiced more.

“So it’s serious with you and this Rick?”

“Uh-huh. We’re practically engaged.”

Sadik threw back his head and began to laugh. Cleo wanted to stomp her foot…preferably grinding her heel into his instep.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she hissed. “You wanted me. The possibility exists that one other man on the planet might feel the same way.”

He stopped laughing and pulled her hard against him. “I do not doubt your charms, Cleo, merely your story. While you are desirable and could have many suitors, you could not be with another man after being with me.”

He spoke with a confidence that made her want to box his ears.

“You make me crazy,” she told him as she pulled free of his embrace. “You also have a very high opinion of yourself. Frankly this conversation bores me.”

At least they were on the edge of the dance floor, she thought gratefully as she stalked away. Sadik didn’t follow her, but then he hardly had to worry about where she was going to go. The single choice was back to her room. For the forty-seventh time that day, tears filled her eyes. As if throwing up wasn’t enough, she’d turned into a faucet. Nothing about this situation was fair.

What made it worse was Sadik had been correct. There was no way she could be with another man after being with him. Somehow she’d bonded herself with him until no other man could possibly matter.

But he only cared about her attentions as some sort of game. He wanted her in his bed, yet not in his life. Cleo hated that. She also didn’t want to explore what she wanted, because she had a bad felling that the truth would terrify her. Wishing for the moon was a steep, slick road to heartache. The problem was, she could already feel herself starting to slip.

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