SEDUCING HIS PRINCESS (10 page)

“Seems the first time is the worst. Then you get used to it.” Before he could swear there’d be no more manipulation, she went on, “So anyway, I am your best bet, as you’ve already figured out, so I’ve decided to pitch in.”

He pulled her back into his arms, meshing their gazes.
“Ashkorek, ya jameelati.”

She again pushed out of the circle of his arms. Story of his life from now on, it seemed.

“Don’t thank me yet. I said this is what’s most likely to get your uncle to cooperate, not that it’s certain it will.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t care about the outcome. I only care about your intention.”

She slanted him an unfathomable glance. “You seem to be in an uncaring mood today. Or is this your usual state? Probably.” Another shoulder jerk. Another surge of lust. “You should start practicing caring. Being a king is quite a bit different from being a terminator.”

“If anyone can teach me to care, it’s you. As my queen.”

Her gaze wavered. Was that...vulnerability?

Next split second it was gone, making him wonder if he’d even seen it.

“So about tonight...” she began.

No comment? Since she didn’t intend to be his queen?

“What about it?”

“My sisters-in-law must have told my brothers their deductions about our relationship, based on your famous phone striptease session. Or, if by some miracle they managed some discretion, everyone must know by now that we’re not strangers to each other. So how do you intend to play this in front of my family and yours?”

He raised her hands to his lips. “I intend to show everyone how proud I am to be your intended, that this was a hope I had harbored since I first saw you.”

She withdrew her hands. “No need to go overboard, or you’ll only make them suspicious.”

She didn’t believe him. Maybe because his statement was untrue. He
hadn’t
thought of marriage in the years he’d craved her from afar, since he’d never thought marriage was in the cards for him at all. Even when he’d proposed, he had no picture of how marriage would fit into his existence.

But now, with the turn his life had taken, everything was different. Although he’d initially come here unclear about what he wanted, beyond the fact that he wanted her with a hunger that continued to consume him, he now wanted everything he could possibly have with her.

Her own stance seemed to be unchanged, though.

He had to hear her spell it out. “So your original agreement stands, as is?”

He held his breath. Hoping against hope...

Then she breathed, “Yes.”

Eight

A
s soon as Mohab entered the expansive dining room in the king’s quarters with Jala, the nine people seated at one end of the gigantic table stood up and clapped.

Mohab saw only one person.
Najeeb.

Heat shot to his head. What was
he
doing here?

As per Jala’s mandate, only the people necessary to the peace efforts should have been present. That had meant Kamal and his queen, Mohab’s uncle and his queen and him and Jala.

He’d wholeheartedly welcomed that, had been enormously relieved when his uncle had begged off attending on account of illness. But to support Mohab’s bid for the “incomparable Jala’s” hand, King Hassan had promised to send her a priceless set of jewelry from Saraya’s royal treasury.

It had been the ultimate irony to hear his uncle speaking in such glowing terms of the woman he’d once gone to dishonorable lengths to ensure didn’t sully his royal family. Now that she was
the
princess of Judar, Hassan was embarrassingly eager to have her blood mingle with that of his family.

But Mohab had relaxed prematurely about tonight. King Hassan had sent Najeeb in his stead. Najeeb had also brought Jawad and Haroon, his second-oldest brothers among nine full and half siblings. But it was Najeeb’s presence alone that disturbed Mohab. He’d avoided Najeeb for years, for every reason there was. A face-to-face with him, now of all times, topped the list of his least-favorite surprises ever. And he’d had some doozies in his time.

“Fi seh’hut al aroosain.”
Kamal raised a crystal glass filled with burgundy liquid, no doubt Judar’s famous date wine, toasting the health of the bride-and groom-to-be.

Everybody raised their glasses and voices in salute, smiles of pleasure coating all faces. All faces but Najeeb’s.

He didn’t approve of this.

“So I had to do something as drastic as get engaged to end the Aal Masoods’ and Aal Ghaanems’ centuries-old theatrics, you testosterone-overdosed cavemen?”

General laughter rose in answer to Jala’s humorous admonition as she smoothly unspooled from his loose embrace and entered the circle of welcome that opened for her. She was at once enfolded into the love and delight of her brothers and their wives. He envied them her readiness to go into their arms, to receive and return their kisses, to exchange smiles with them that were unmarred by the past.

Then she turned to his cousins, and his envy became resentment. Watching her bestow ease and humor on them actually hurt when he’d gotten nothing that approached either from her. When it brought back how it had felt to be inundated in both. It didn’t help that those two hulking buffoons were totally enthralled as this magical creature welcomed them as friends and future family members.

Then it was Najeeb’s turn.

He watched them approach each other with all the trepidation of someone watching a collision, one that would pulverize him. The hesitation of the long absence and the uncertainty of the other’s reception evaporated with every step until they met halfway. Then she reached out both hands to him and he clasped them in his with just as much eagerness. But it was the tenderness on both their faces as their tentative smiles blossomed that had jealousy surging through him like a geyser. He felt that if he opened his mouth right now, he’d scorch the whole room.

He had no idea what he said to Jala’s family as they gathered around to congratulate him. All he could see was Najeeb’s head bent close to Jala’s, making his blood boil.

“Take it easy, Mohab, or the guy might drop dead.”

That was Shehab. Mohab curbed an imprecation as he tore his gaze away from Najeeb to look at Shehab. The man’s black eyes were dancing with mischief, having evidently documented Mohab’s reaction to Najeeb and Jala’s reunion.

Another surge of savagery coursed in his blood. “Right now, I’m not sure that would be a bad thing.”

Shehab chuckled, looking very pleased with Mohab’s response. “If Najeeb drops dead, Jawad won’t be far behind. He’d jump out of his fighter jet without a parachute if he found himself the crown prince of Saraya. Only Najeeb, in his endless wisdom and stamina, can deal with your uncle.”

Mohab almost bared his teeth at Shehab. Hearing about Najeeb’s endless wisdom—and stamina—was more fuel to his fire.

“And don’t be too hard on Najeeb. It’s only expected that any man would turn into a slobbering fool around Jala.”

Mohab forced a smile to his taut face. “You trying to make me go rearrange my little cousin’s face, and spend the rest of my engagement night in
your
little brother’s dungeon?”

Shehab guffawed this time, definitely delighted with Mohab’s vehemence, which he no doubt considered revealed the depth of his involvement with his sister. “Wouldn’t
that
be a far more memorable engagement night than this inane dinner you and your fiancée imposed on us?”

Farah, Shehab’s wife, turned to her husband, emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What am I missing?”

Shehab scooped her to his side, his smile so bedeviling Mohab considered manually wiping it off his face. “Mohab here is so head over heels with Jala, he’s having a male aggression crisis just watching her greet an old friend.”

Farah waved her hand dismissingly. “Najeeb is a
really
old friend.” Then she started recounting the story of Jala’s and Najeeb’s friendship.

Mohab suffered all he could before interjecting, “I already know all that. I was there the first time they met.” When she looked confused, he explained further. “I was the one who led the extraction team and ended the hostage crisis.”

Delight surged on Farah’s face. “Oh, you’re her knight in black-ops armor! How unbelievably romantic that after saving her life all these years ago, you’d reenter it as her prince charming!”

“That even tops the way we met,
ya rohi.
” Shehab gazed down at her with such indulgence, Mohab made a mental note to check his blood sugar as soon as he left their company.

Farah poked Shehab in equal adoration. “You mean when you set me up?” Mohab wanted to scoff “you, too?” as Farah turned to him with a mock-stern expression. “This perfect husband you see now first approached me swathed in Tuareg garb and masqueraded as someone else to seduce me into marrying him, thinking I was the former king of Zohayd’s illegitimate daughter, all in the name of keeping Judar’s peace.”

Mohab couldn’t hold back his scoff this time. It seemed seducing a woman for their kingdom’s sake, then falling for her was an epidemic among the princes in this region.

“Let’s get this engagement party under way, people,” Kamal called out. “We’re all experts at talking while eating.”

As voices rose in approval and everyone moved back to the splendidly laid-out table, Mohab found himself surrounded by Jala’s family while she was assimilated into his.

For the next hour a superb dinner was served, but he could taste none of it. Being separated from Jala and watching her with his cousins, with Najeeb, killed any appetite and any ability to enjoy her family’s company.

At one point, as he stared at the grinning faces of the loving couples around the table, he reached a final conclusion. The Aal Masood family all suffered from toxic levels of happiness, and exposure to them was detrimental to his health. And sanity.

But he could see something besides sickening bliss on their faces. It was the shrewd realization that all was not as it should be with him and Jala. He waited with bated breath for someone to allude to this, but as if to stop their suspicion from becoming conviction, Jala left his cousins and came to stand behind Farooq.

Leaning over her oldest brother, she draped supple arms over his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Can I have my fiancé back now? Cross-examined him to your heart’s content?”

Her arm brushed against him and her hair swished forward, deluging him in her scent. Everything inside him clamored, almost drowning Farooq’s guffaw.

“As if. You’ve got yourself one tight-lipped groom-to-be here. Figures, though, with what he does for a living. But the poor guy barely touched his dinner since he was busy eating you up. I don’t think he even heard most of what we said to him.”

Kamal chuckled. “I bet Mohab’s ideal engagement dinner would have been having you alone somewhere secluded by the sea. I think we only managed to torture him with this dinner.”

“Which is as it should be,” Shehab said, winking at her. “In another age, we would have made him roam the desert in search of mythical treasures, then return to jump through hoops of fire for the privilege of your hand.”

Mohab twisted his lips at her brothers. “Braving the desert unarmed and on foot, and then ending my trek by battling hungry hyenas over a fire pit
would
have been preferable to sitting across this ridiculously wide table from Jala throughout our so-called engagement party.” He swept the three men a challenging look. “You
should
test me. The honor and privilege of her hand demands every proof that I actually deserve it. So prepare your trials. The more impossible, the better.”

And he meant every word. He’d do anything for Jala. For this wasn’t a matter of wanting to get her out of his system anymore. This was about winning her. Properly this time. And forever. He finally faced what he’d avoided acknowledging for years: what she was to him. This woman he’d wanted from the first moment, who he had pined for through the years of alienation, who he had watched over and learned from.

He’d never stopped loving her. And with everything she’d done and still did, every breath she took, she kept proving to him that he’d always been destined to love her.

He loved her now more than he ever had or even believed possible.

Feeling her eyes on him after his impassioned pledge, he turned the force of his conviction on her, told her, wordlessly, but with everything in him, what he felt.

Meeting her eyes, he felt her spirit touch his, as it had from the very beginning. Now, even through the barrier she’d erected between them since that fateful night, it jolted through him again, how kindred it felt, how deep her hold over him was, how absolute. And he no longer wanted to sever it. He only wanted to cherish and revel in it. He only wanted to convince her to let him in again, to let him love her with everything he had, as he’d failed to in the past.

But something in her eyes sent his heart hammering. That vulnerability. And something else. Pain. Bottomless pain.

It disturbed him so much it had him on his feet, just as Farooq stood to vacate his place for her.

Heart ramming his rib cage, he held her seat as she sat, trying to catch her gaze again, to confirm what he’d seen. But there was nothing but a bright, neutral smile as she murmured thanks and looked away as her brothers continued poking and prodding him.

“No surprises here, Mission Impossible Man,” Shehab said. “Wrestling impossible odds and facing lethal dangers must be easier for you than sitting still through a social function.”

Kamal sighed. “Wait till you’re king. You’ll suffer through those till you want to
cause
mayhem to escape them.”

Taking Jala’s place between his cousins, Farooq chimed in, “Hmm, I can make use of your willingness to do anything for Jala. I have some chronic...problems I need taken care of.”

Reaching for the hand Jala rested on the table, he enveloped it, a thrill going through him when she relinquished it to him. “Make me a list and consider them resolved.”

Farooq grinned at Jala. “I’m sold. I like your fiancé. It’s very handy to have a cleanup expert in the family.”

“How about you ask him for a thousand red camels in the bargain?” Carmen ribbed her husband.

Everyone laughed at Carmen’s allusion to one of the most famous folklore stories in the region, the immortal love story of Antarah and Ablah. Antarah, a slave who won his freedom through heroic feats, asked for his beloved’s hand, only for her father to get rid of his nuisance by sending Antarah on an impossible mission to acquire rare camels from far-flung enemy territory, alone, unarmed and having nothing to bargain with. Antarah, of course, accomplished all this, and in the end won his Ablah.

If only everyone knew
his
mission impossible—winning back what he’d lost of Jala’s heart and then reaching the parts he’d never been able to touch—was far harder than any overwhelming odds they could throw at him.

After an interval of gaiety as they exchanged anecdotes and tales from the past about more men in his situation, dessert was served.

Jawad, who’d been the most outspoken of his cousins during the evening, grinned at him so widely he wanted to hurl a plate between his perfect teeth. “When Najeeb told us Mohab was getting hitched, we just had to see the impossibility of who’d made him consider this suicidal move.”

“Then we see Jala...and the rest of you ladies—” Haroon made a theatrical gesture around the table “—and now we know. Judar is the ultimate babe producer...and magnet.”

Najeeb glared at his younger brothers. “I knew it was the biggest mistake I’ve made in recent memory letting you two tag along. Now I know how the enmity between our families started. It must have been instigated by men with big mouths and bigger eyes, like you.”

“Chill, bro.” Jawad grinned unrepentantly. “Those guys know for a fact they have rare jewels that anyone with a heartbeat would admire.” He flashed the ladies another killer smile. “I bet they’d be offended if we pretended we didn’t notice.”

“Yeah.” Haroon smirked at Najeeb. “So maybe it was a tight ass like you, one who couldn’t take a joke or wholesome admiration, who started the enmities.”

Najeeb looked heavenward, then over at the Aal Masoods, focusing on Kamal. “See what I have to put up with? Now that you’ve seen my spare heirs, I hope you really appreciate yours.”

“Oh, our baby brother, Kamal, appreciates the hell out of us.” Farooq chuckled, eliciting an exasperated growl from Kamal. “You on the other hand, Najeeb, are to be pitied...”

Having had enough and still holding Jala’s hand, Mohab rose. “And here I want to thank you all for celebrating this momentous occasion with me and Jala.” He panned his gaze among Jala’s family. “But though I truly appreciate the welcome you’ve shown me, and
forood walaa’ee wa ta’ahtee,
my pledge of allegiance and obedience stands. Kamal was right. There’s nothing I want more than to have Jala to myself, at least for part of the evening, to make its memory a perfect one. So please, continue to celebrate, and excuse us as we go have our own personal celebration.”