Читать книгу The Prince & the Pregnant Princess - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 7

“W ell?” Zara asked when they resumed their stroll to the guest quarters. “Any sparks left between you two?”

“Not really,” Cleo lied. “I mean, dating a prince was interesting the first time around, but it’s so not me.” She forced herself to smile. “I’m hardly princess material.”

“You could be.”

“On what planet?”

Zara smiled. “Okay, I get your point. Fitting in here isn’t that easy, and believe me, I’ve been trying for the past four months. I guess the rich and powerful really are different.”

Cleo couldn’t help laughing. “Zara, you’re the college professor in the family and you just now figured that out? There’s something wrong with you.”

Zara grinned. “Hey, I’m a princess. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Excuse me, but I’m your sister. I can do whatever I want.”

Zara sighed and linked arms with Cleo. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s so great to have you here. I finally feel as if I have someone on my side in this crazy place. It’s taken a whole lot longer to adjust than I would have thought.”

“Why are you surprised? You went from being a small-town girl to living in a royal palace, halfway around the world. Oh, and you happened to find your long-lost father and fall in love. That’s hardly a situation designed to make you feel normal.”

“Agreed. While it’s nice to finally find roots, I have to admit I spend most of my time with my head spinning.”

Cleo didn’t doubt it. Just walking the corridors of the royal palace was enough to upset anyone’s equilibrium. They moved past bubbling marble fountains and priceless tapestries. There were statues, paintings, open courtyards, alcoves, anterooms and servants. There were also King Hassan’s cats who were allowed to go anywhere in the palace by royal order of the king. It was not a world designed to make one feel grounded.

“At first I envied you this,” Cleo admitted. “But now I’m not so sure I’d want to be a member of the royal family.”

“You’d get used to it.”

“Maybe.”

Cleo knew that it didn’t matter one way or the other. If all went well, she would be out of here in a couple of weeks. As for her own personal fantasy of home, hearth and family…that wasn’t going to happen.

She shook off her sad feelings before they could blossom into a full-fledged pity party. No time for that, she reminded herself. This was Zara’s special time, and she was determined to do everything she could to make it wonderful.

She glanced at her sister and raised her eyebrows. “Don’t forget your promise. I want first chance at all your jewelry castoffs. Anytime you get tired of your diamonds or sapphires, pass them my way.”

Zara laughed. “I promise. And if I find an old tiara lying around somewhere, I’ll send it over.”

Cleo fingered her short, spiky hair. “I’d look good in a tiara. Maybe it would make me look taller.” She had a sudden image of herself at her job in Spokane. There she would be, manning the copy machine, dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and a tiara. It would certainly get the customers talking.

The image was both comical and tragic. Fortunately, they reached their room before hormones could overwhelm her. She might be able to explain her slight weight gain, but sudden bouts of sobbing would definitely get Zara’s attention.

Zara opened the door to the suite and stepped inside. Cleo walked into the open space.

“It’s just like I remember,” she said, taking in the cream-colored walls and the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and doors with a view of the Arabian Sea. The water was as beautiful as she remembered.

“Not bad,” she said, glancing at the deep-blue-and-rose tapestries decorating the walls, and the comfortable sofas and chairs that made up a large seating area in the center of the room.

“Everything is as you left it,” Zara said, pointing to the right.

Cleo walked toward the room she’d called home for a couple of weeks. This time she was prepared for the luxury of the four-poster bed in the center of the room. She had double French doors that led out onto the balcony that circled the entire palace. An oversize armoire held a television and DVD unit. If she remembered correctly, the bathroom was stocked with enough shampoo, lotions and soaps to fill a boutique.

“Nice work if you can get it,” she murmured under her breath.

She recalled the last time she’d been here. Everything had overwhelmed her. Zara had been the prodigal daughter, while she had been out of place. Now she was the not-quite-sister of the bride. Four months ago she’d been on the adventure of a lifetime. Now she was in dangerous territory with a whole lot more to lose.

Zara leaned against the door frame. “You’re looking serious. Should I be worried?”

Cleo forced herself to smile. “No. Everything is great. I hope Rafe is prepared to give you surroundings this nice after you’re married.”

Zara’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I’ve told him that my father has set very high standards. He’s going to have to scramble to keep up.” Her expression softened. “Cleo, no offense, but you look exhausted. Do you want to crawl into bed and not worry about anything until tomorrow?”

Cleo nodded gratefully. Pregnancy had zapped most of her energy. “I didn’t sleep on the plane last night. Between getting ready to go on vacation and closing up my apartment, I didn’t get much rest the night before. So I’m pretty tired. Would you mind if I just hid out until morning?”

“Not at all.” Zara walked over and hugged her. “Thanks for coming. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Cleo spoke the truth. She knew the danger of returning to Bahania. If anyone found out about her pregnancy, she was in deep trouble. But staying away would have meant disappointing Zara, and Cleo couldn’t do that. Not after all they’d been through together.

The downside of taking a nap was being unable to sleep when one wanted to. Cleo turned over in bed and stared at the clock. It was nearly midnight and she felt more restless than tired. Maybe a snack would help. Or even just breathing in the sea-scented air.

After wrapping herself in her robe, she walked barefoot into the living room of the suite she and Zara once again shared. Her sister had arranged for a tray to be delivered around seven that evening. Cleo had taken two bites and had promptly thrown it all up. Now she nibbled cautiously on a sandwich half. It tasted good, and the knot in her stomach seemed to ease.

There wasn’t any light showing in Zara’s room. Cleo wondered if her sister had returned from her evening dining with the family or if she was out with Rafe. Maybe the two of them had managed to sneak off together. Cleo sighed. Zara and Rafe looked blissfully happy together. While she was glad her sister had found the man of her dreams, she couldn’t help wishing a little of that fairy dust had been sprinkled in her direction. But no. Instead of true love, she’d found a quickie affair with a prince who might still want her but had obviously done just fine without her in the four months she’d been gone. After all, he hadn’t tried even once to get in touch with her.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. Think about something cheerful, like the fact that her stomach had settled down. She ate the rest of the sandwich half and washed it down with a glass of water. Next she sampled the fruit, which was exotic and delicious.

Feeling almost cheerful, she headed for her bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and tried to figure out if someone could tell she was pregnant just by looking at her face. Fortunately, no one had tattooed a sign to her forehead. She was safe, for the moment.

Cleo returned to her bedroom but still didn’t feel sleepy, so she headed out onto the balcony. The French doors opened easily. As she stepped into the coolness of the autumn evening, she inhaled the sweet scents of the flowers in the garden, along with the salty smell of the ocean. Back home the leaves were turning as winter beckoned, but here the days were balmy and beautiful.

She could hear the chirps and clicks of night creatures, along with the faint sounds from the waves. Just like a dream, she thought with a lazy smile. Only, this time she knew that dreams could occasionally have unhappy endings. The last time she’d stood on this balcony alone in the night, she’d wished for a handsome prince with whom to share the moment. Now she knew better. Handsome princes were great guys…from a safe distance.

An out-of-place sound caught her attention. She turned and saw someone moving in the shadows. Her heart jumped. Not out of fear but out of recognition. She didn’t have to see his face to recognize the man. Speak of the devil.

Sadik walked toward her, moving into the light of the small lamp just to the left of her bedroom door. He didn’t say anything as he approached, which was just as well, for her throat had gone dry at the sight of him.

He wore jeans and a polo shirt—casual dress. There was nothing unusual about that, except Sadik was a prince and she’d never seen him in anything but a business suit or a tuxedo. Or in nothing at all.

Don’t go there, she told herself. Thinking about Sadik being naked was incredibly dangerous…especially given her current circumstances.

He stopped less than two feet from her. His expression didn’t give anything away, but she had the distinct impression he wasn’t happy to see her. He stood at least six feet tall, which meant it was too darned easy for him to tower over her.

A trickle of apprehension made her want to step back. Rather than give in, she did what she always did best. Think with her mouth.

“I have to say, you loom better than anyone I know,” Cleo said, leaning against the railing and striving for casual. “Is it something tall men do instinctively or is it more of a princely art?”

His gaze narrowed. “You still have not learned to curb your tongue. As a woman, you should know better.”

She rolled her eyes. “You left out the word mere, and that’s what really gives the sentence its spice. As a mere woman, I should know better.”

“Exactly.”

His agreement didn’t make her feel very charitable or friendly. “Sadik, you’ve got to get some different material. It’s the new millennium. Women now have brains and we use them. Or didn’t you get the memo?”

He seemed to loom a little more aggressively. “I am Prince Sadik of Bahania. You will not speak to me this way. You must learn your place.”

“Last time I checked, my place was about ten feet away.” She nodded toward her room. “So I do know it, and I have to say, it’s lovely.”

He took a half step closer, which made him way too close. Then he glared at her and growled. Cleo couldn’t believe it. There was an honest-to-goodness growling noise in his throat.

A shiver tripped up her spine and made her shiver. On the one hand she was pleased to know that she could still bug him. On the other hand, being this close to him made it hard to think and to breathe. Not a good combination.

He glared at her, and she glared right back. No way was she going to let him know how much he’d hurt her. There had been at least 120 nights since she’d last seen him, and she would bet she’d cried herself to sleep at least seventy of them. Which made her mad at both him and herself.

The trick was to make sure he never found out that he had ever mattered. Oh, and not to let him know she was pregnant.

“When do you plan to apologize for leaving my bed?” he asked.

The question stunned her. She stared at him for several seconds as the words chased themselves around in her head. Was he crazy? It was a horrible time to suddenly remember she wore panties, a nightgown and a robe. Little protection against Sadik’s masculine charms.

“I have nothing to apologize for. I was ready to end things, so I left.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “No woman leaves my bed without being asked.”

His arrogance really got on her nerves. “Apparently that’s not completely true, as I left before you asked. And while we’re on the subject of apologies, where’s mine?”

The tight jaw muscles twitched. “For what?”

He spoke through clenched teeth. It was a neat trick, she thought.

“Why am I not surprised that you don’t get it,” she said more to herself than to him. “It’s so typically male.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You gave me jewelry, Sadik. After we made love, you offered me expensive gifts. It’s not like we had an actual relationship and cared about each other.” Okay, she’d cared about him, but he didn’t have to know that. “It was a little too much like leaving money on the nightstand. I may not be a royal princess, but that’s no excuse to offer payment for services.”

She had the pleasure of seeing Sadik look completely stunned. His jaw unclenched, and for a second she thought his mouth might drop open.

“Those gifts were not a payment,” he said, obviously seething with barely controlled rage. “They were an expression of my honor at the treasure being offered.”

Cleo had to turn that sentence over a couple of times before it made anything close to sense. By treasure did he actually mean sex? “In case you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t a virgin. There wasn’t any treasure involved. Which you knew, by the way, because we talked about it before we—”

He kissed her. Cleo was unprepared, and Sadik moved so quickly she didn’t have any warning. One second she’d been talking and the next, he took her in his arms and drew her close.

The feel of his strong body against her own caused all the air to rush from her lungs. She gasped to catch her breath, which left her vulnerable. At least, that’s what she told herself when she decided not to put up a struggle as his mouth settled on hers.

It had been too long, she thought hazily, caught in the grip of instant and mind-numbing passion. Every nerve in her body caught fire as sensual heat rushed through her, making her want to tear off her clothes and have him touch her everywhere.

He settled his mouth more firmly on hers, then ran his tongue across her lower lip. Shivers raced up and down her arms. Her extrasensitive breasts swelled uncomfortably. All this and he hadn’t even put his tongue in her mouth. She didn’t think she would be able to stand that.

He read her mind, she thought, both aroused and distressed as he swept into her mouth. At the first touch she knew she was lost. The familiar pattern of their intimate dance came back to her in a heartbeat. Remembered passion joined present passion, combining, growing, making her strain toward him.

She clung to his broad shoulders, then, unable to help herself, ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. She could inhale the scent of his body, feel his heat, his arousal. The thought of him being inside of her nearly made her weep with desire.

When he put his hands on her hips, she felt herself drifting away. In a matter of seconds she would be lost. He deepened his kiss as he drew his hands higher, to her waist and up to her rib cage.

Several thoughts flashed through Cleo’s mind at once. That she couldn’t emotionally risk giving herself to him again. That if he touched her too much, he might figure out the differences in her body. After all, he’d spent hours learning every inch of her to a level of detail that had left her weak and breathless. That her hormones were doing their thing and she was about forty-five seconds away from a sobbing meltdown.

None of the possibilities made her feel safe, so she forced herself to pull away.

Sadik’s breathing was as rapid as her own. She was gratified to see the fire of need burning in his dark eyes. At least the wanting hadn’t been all one-sided. Neither of them said anything. She suspected they were both waiting for the other person to speak first. She knew he was strong enough to outwait her, although she gave the staring contest a try.

“I’m not doing this,” she said at last when it became apparent they could be at it all night. “The only reason I’m here is that my sister is getting married. If you have an itch, I suggest you could find someone else who’s actually interested to scratch it for you.”

The implication that she wasn’t interested was an outright lie, but tough times called for tough measures.

Passion faded from his eyes as anger took its place. He didn’t say a word, instead he turned on his heel and stalked away. Cleo slumped against the railing and tried to calm her heart rate. She would say that round had been a draw, which was unfortunate. She really needed a win. She also needed to stay out of trouble.

Instinctively she placed a hand on her stomach. It wasn’t Sadik’s fault that she was still crazy about him. But regardless of her feelings, she didn’t dare give in. The last thing in the world she wanted was for him to find out the truth.

Cleo didn’t fall asleep before dawn, so it was nearly ten when she finally stumbled out of bed and into her shower. An hour later she was “taking breakfast” on the balcony outside of her room.

Everyone should start their day this way, she thought happily. Sunlight burned away the shadows from last night. She felt confident there wouldn’t be any interruptions from a certain handsome prince because he would have long since started his day, leaving her free to admire the view and enjoy her breakfast.

As she’d already thrown up twice, she was ravenous. Warm scones, fruit and herbal tea tempted her appetite. She leaned back in her chair and sighed with contentment. There were moments when it was good to be a guest of the royal family. The food was delicious, the view incredible and for once her morning sickness hadn’t left her feeling too shaky. Actually the morning episodes were the easiest. The ones that struck later in the day left her feeling as if she’d just gone five rounds with a stubborn strain of the flu.

A small price to pay, she thought as she picked up a strawberry and took a bite. At least it was getting better. In the beginning she’d tossed her cookies nearly—

“Good morning.”

Cleo glanced up, then quickly sprang to her feet. She swallowed a sudden case of nerves and tried to smile. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said to the king of Bahania.

King Hassan smiled and motioned to the small table the servants had set up for her. “Are you enjoying your breakfast?”

“Yes. Very much. I overslept. Jet lag, I guess.”

Hassan nodded. When he didn’t keep on walking, Cleo figured this wasn’t a morning constitutional. He must have a purpose. She cleared her throat. “Ah, Zara is getting a final fitting on her gown. She should be back in an hour or so.”

Hassan motioned to one of the chairs, as if asking permission to join her. Cleo nodded vigorously, feeling like one of those little dogs people put in the back of their cars.

“Please,” she said, then fumbling when he paused, as if waiting for her to sit first.

Was she allowed to be seated when he was standing? she wondered. Life was difficult when all her royal training came from umpteen viewings of the movie The King and I. It’s not as if members of the royal family frequently crowded into her small apartment kitchen.

She finally plunked herself down on her chair and passed a plate of scones. The king took a seat, but declined the scones.

“Please continue with your breakfast,” Hassan said as he reached for her pot of tea and poured himself a cup. “How was your trip to Bahania?”

“Long, but otherwise pretty fabulous.” She spread jam on her scone. “I really appreciate the use of the family jet. It was a whole lot nicer than my first trip here.”

“Not so many people?”

“Exactly.”

“I am glad the jet could be of use to you.” He smiled kindly.

Cleo ignored a twinge of envy. This man was Zara’s father. Cleo was less impressed by the fact that he was a king than that he cared about finding his daughter after not knowing about her for twenty-eight years. Not many men would have been so open and excited at the prospect of a new family member. Still, if good fortune was going to happen to someone, she was glad it was Zara.

“We are happy you have come for the wedding,” the king said.

“I wanted to be here.” It was only half a lie, Cleo thought.

Hassan smiled. “Zara’s happiness would not be complete without the presence of her beloved sister.”

Hassan was just a tad under six feet, with graying hair and strong, handsome features. Cleo could see the family resemblance in his sons and daughters. They were all tall, dark and very good-looking. She, on the other hand, was a short, round, baby-chick blonde with blue eyes and a slight inclination to chubby thighs.

“Your Highness, Zara means the world to me, but you must know we’re not actually sisters.”

The king patted her hand. “You are sisters of the heart. Zara has told me much of your years together. A relationship born of such times runs deep. You honor each other, and as Zara’s father, I honor the bond you share. You have come to be with Zara now, because your presence makes her happy. Therefore you make me happy, as well. You are part of our family, Cleo. You will always be welcome here.”

Cleo felt as if he’d stabbed her. His complete acceptance made her feel like slime. Not only was she carrying his unborn grandchild, she had planned to duck out of the country without anyone knowing the truth.

Her conscience wrestled with reality. If the king knew about the baby, he would want to keep it in Bahania. Cleo knew she didn’t belong here, which meant she might lose her child. Zara had the genes to be a member of the royal family, but Cleo wasn’t so lucky.

“You must tour the garden,” the king said, as if he wasn’t aware of the battle raging inside of her. “When you were last here, the fierce summer daunted many of our most beautiful plants. However, in the fall, they come out and show off their glory.”

She was grateful for the change in subject. “I’ll make it a point to go look at them,” she said. “I enjoyed the gardens before.”

“They’re even more beautiful now. Many things bloom here in Bahania.”

She glanced at him, but despite his cryptic words, he seemed to speak only of the wildlife. There was no way he could have guessed, she told herself as a shiver of unease rippled through her. She was overreacting.

Hassan spoke of his precious cats for a few minutes, then rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, duty calls,” he said. “Otherwise I would like to spend more time with you.” He touched her shoulder. “Welcome, Cleo. We are all happy to have you with us. Stay as long as you would like. I know that you have a life back in America, but should you wish to make your home here in Bahania, we would be most honored.”

He nodded slightly, then left.

Cleo stared after him. It was only when she sniffed that she realized tears rolled down her face. She wiped her cheeks with her napkin. There was no point in blaming this outburst on her hormones. Hassan’s acceptance had opened an old wound—that of wanting to belong to a person, a family, even a place.

Despite his kindness, it wasn’t going to happen here, she reminded herself. That particular fantasy was going to have to be fulfilled somewhere else.

Maybe it was time to make a change in her life, she thought as she headed back to her room. When she went home after Zara’s wedding, she would evaluate her situation and find a way to feel, if not happiness, then at least contentment.