To Wed a Sheikh. Teresa Southwick

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СКАЧАТЬ again, he did have a way with words. “What a lovely thing to say.”

      “As it turns out,” he said, paraphrasing her, “I do know you well after all.”

      She recalled him saying she wouldn’t have come all the way to visit his country if the employment offer was out of the question. She’d challenged his assumption that he knew her so well. But he’d been right. Even formidable Princess Farrah couldn’t have persuaded her to visit if she hadn’t been interested in the opportunity. Had she subconsciously known that a marriage proposal wasn’t in the cards for her? No. If she had, she wouldn’t have been so completely blindsided by the betrayal. And it wouldn’t have hurt so deeply.

      “How nice that one night’s acquaintance gives you insight into what makes me tick.”

      The words came out sharper than she’d intended. It wasn’t fair, or especially bright, to take out her frustration on the crown prince of an oil-rich, up-and-coming nation.

      “So, what brings you here today?” she asked, trying to change the subject. It wasn’t quite as transparent as “nice weather we’re having,” but close.

      His chin rose a fraction and his black eyes narrowed. “I am here every day.”

      Then why hadn’t she seen him before this? Maybe because his aunt had just told him of her arrival? What a difference a four-letter qualifier made. A glow started inside her but she shut it down stat. Her idea of adventure was traveling to an exotic land. It did not include falling for a guy who would kiss a woman he’d thought was engaged. She was too smart for that. Once burned, twice shy.

      “I see.” She picked up the clipboard on the stack of boxes between them. “It was nice to see you again, Kamal. But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

      He nodded. “I will do my best to make your stay in El Zafir everything you hope.”

      “Thank you.”

      As she watched him walk away, she couldn’t help wishing his shoulders weren’t quite so broad and his stride not quite so long. Because rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief—it made no difference. Loving any man wasn’t easy. Period.

      Not that their paths would cross. He ran a country. She’d been hired to run the maternity ward of his hospital. And if that wasn’t enough to convince her, not a single research source she’d consulted about El Zafir had ever promised that Ali’s foreign adventure would include a dalliance with a handsome prince.

      Ali Matlock was a distraction.

      Kamal knew because his meeting had dragged on longer than it should have. And the fault was hers. The ministers of finance and education had repeated information two and three times because thoughts of the attractive American had splintered his concentration. It was a weakness he would take pains to overcome.

      He looked at his watch as he left the palace business wing and hurried to the family quarters. No doubt he’d missed Johara’s prenatal checkup. His sister was eight months pregnant, an unfortunate result of her teenage rebellion. After the first angry confrontation, the king had ignored his daughter. And the baby’s jackal of a father had the audacity to be killed in a motorcycle accident before Kamal could take him apart with his bare hands, then force what was left of him to marry his sister. Instead, Kamal had given her his promise that she could lean on him. Always.

      Today he hadn’t exactly broken his promise. But he’d certainly bent it.

      He stopped before the door to his sister’s suite of rooms and knocked. When his aunt bade him enter, he did so, grateful the older woman had been there for his sister.

      Following the sound of female voices, he crossed the marble foyer and entered the living room. Along with his two sisters-in-law, Penny and Crystal, he found Farrah on the semicircular sofa that dominated the room.

      “Has the doctor been here?” he demanded of his aunt.

      Holding a delicate china cup, she looked up at him. She was an elegantly attractive woman in her fifties, although she could pass for twenty years younger. Her black eyes snapped with intelligence in her unlined face. Black hair, expertly coiffed, turned under and brushed the collar of her jewel green silk suit jacket. “Yes.”

      “Been and gone,” Penny informed him. “He apologized for not waiting for you. But he had to get back to the hospital.”

      This small, delicate, blond, blue-eyed American had captured his youngest brother’s heart when she’d been assigned as his assistant. The family charmer, Rafiq had been charmed by her and they quickly married. Although her slender figure didn’t show it yet, they were expecting a child within the year.

      “I was delayed,” he explained.

      “A likely story,” Crystal said, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I think you would grab any excuse to avoid a chick thing.”

      “Chick thing?” he asked.

      “You know.” Crystal’s grin betrayed the fact she was baiting him. “Prenatal care, babies, swollen ankles, water retention.”

      “Ah,” he said, permitting himself a small smile.

      He’d once thought Crystal’s hair nondescript. But long and loose as now, it shone with red highlights. She’d been hired as the nanny to his brother Fariq’s five-year-old twins and they’d fallen in love. Looking at her rounded curves, one would never guess that she, too, would give birth to his brother’s third child before the end of the year.

      A fleeting twist of envy gripped Kamal before he suppressed the feeling. His brothers were second and third in line to the throne. They could afford to fall in love. He could not. He had no intention of letting any weakness distract him from his responsibilities to his country and its people. For him, marriage was strictly a duty to be undertaken, but love wouldn’t be involved.

      “Where is Johara?” he asked, looking around.

      “In the other room,” Farrah answered, lifting her chin toward his sister’s bedroom.

      He could hear the distant, indistinct sound of a female voice. Looking at his aunt, he asked, “What did the doctor say?”

      “He wishes to see her once a week until she gives birth.”

      “Why?”

      “It is standard procedure during the last month of pregnancy.” Her smooth forehead wrinkled with worry. “One thing of concern—her blood pressure is slightly elevated. As yet, he doesn’t believe it’s of consequence, but instructed us to call him if we have any worries or questions.”

      He nodded grimly. Pregnancy and birth were the cycle of life. The most natural thing in the world. Unless there was a problem. He’d watched Johara’s mother lose her life while she was with child. Pushing aside his dark thoughts, he looked at the three women sitting on the sofa—two of them with an unmistakable glow.

      “May I inquire about your checkups?”

      “A-okay,” Penny informed him. “Morning sickness has passed and we’re doing fine.”

      “Me, too,” Crystal said. “My only hitch was on СКАЧАТЬ