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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: A Christmas Bride
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“You kissed her.”

That damn kiss, he thought grimly. It had created nothing but trouble. The second kiss had been worse. Now he knew the passion between them had not been brought on by too many nights alone. It flared as bright and hot as the sun. He ached to claim Kayleen’s body. But her innocence and position in his household made the situation complicated.

“To make a point,” he said with a casualness he didn’t feel.

“So that explains it,” Lina murmured. “You have no feelings for her yourself.”

None that he would admit to. “No.”

“So if I wanted to introduce her to a pleasant young man, you would be agreeable?”

“I would,” he lied, picturing himself ripping off the man’s head. “But it will not be an issue.”

“You’re saying I don’t know any young men, but you are wrong. I know several. One is an American. I mentioned Kayleen to him and he thought he would like to meet her. Did you know it’s nearly Thanksgiving?”

“Nearly what?”

“Thanksgiving. It’s an American holiday. I had forgotten myself, but the young man in question mentioned getting together with Kayleen that evening. They would both be missing home and could connect over that.”

Missing home. Kayleen would, he thought, and so would the girls. They would miss the traditional dinner.

“I will arrange it,” he told his aunt.

“Kayleen’s date?”

“Of course not. Thanksgiving dinner for her and the girls. A traditional meal. I’ll speak with the head chef right away.” He turned his attention back to his aunt. “As for your young American, I doubt he exists.”

“Of course he does.”

“Perhaps, but he is not intended for Kayleen. You have other plans for her.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But while we’re on the subject, Kayleen is lovely, isn’t she? I met her the first time I volunteered at the orphanage. She’d been here all of two weeks and yet had already settled in. I was impressed by her intelligence and her dedication to the children. She has many fine qualities.”

“I will not marry her.”

Lina narrowed her gaze. “No one has asked you to.” Her voice was level enough, but he saw the temper in her eyes.

“You would not ask,” he told her. “But you have gone out of your way to throw her in my path. Tell me, was Tahir a part of your plan? Did you arrange for him to come to the orphanage and set the events in motion?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if I did, I would point out Kayleen would be a good mother. Her sons would be strong. You have to marry someone. Why not her?”

Why indeed? A case could be made for his aunt’s logic. Kayleen may not have been born royal, but sometimes that was an advantage. She had an inner strength he respected—it was her heart that made him wary.

“She cares too much,” he told his aunt. “She is too emotional.”

“She’s a woman.”

“She leads with her heart. She deserves someone who can appreciate that.”

Lina studied him for several seconds, then nodded. “All right. That’s the one answer I can respect. It’s too bad. I think she would have been good for you. Then we’ll just have to find her someone else.”

“She is the children’s nanny.”

“She deserves more than just a job. You were right, there’s no young American man, but I’ll find her someone.” She rose and smiled. “Don’t worry, As’ad. While I’m finding Kayleen a husband, I’ll find you another nanny. You won’t be inconvenienced.”

Those should have been the words he wanted to hear, but something about them bothered him. Something he couldn’t define but that created a knot in the middle of his chest.

* * *

 

“WHAT IS IT?” As’ad asked, staring at the thick, flat cutout.

Dana grinned. “It’s a turkey.”

He eyed the layers of paper. “It is a turkey that has met with some unfortunate circumstances.”

She giggled, then pulled the top over, creating a three-dimensional paper turkey. “It’s a decoration,” she told him. “They delivered a whole box of ’em. We can put them on the table and hang them from the ceiling.” She glanced up at the curved, fifteen-foot ceiling. “Okay, maybe not the ceiling. But we’ll put them all around.”

“This is tradition?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. Along with the leaves.”

The box with the flat paper turkeys had also included festive garlands in fall colors, along with silk leaves in red, brown and gold.

Pepper leaned over and grabbed a handful of leaves. “I’ll put these on the table. We can make a line down the center of the tablecloth. It’ll be pretty.”

Nadine trailed after her younger sister, picking up the leaves that drifted to the floor. As’ad took a length of garland and followed them to the table.

“This will go on top of the leaves?” he asked.

Pepper grinned. “Uh-huh. And we need to have candles. Really tall ones. They’re the prettiest.” She set down her leaves, put her hands on her hips and looked at him. “How come you don’t know this?”

“We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here.”

Her blue eyes widened. “But you have to.”

“They weren’t discovered by pilgrims,” Nadine told her. “America was the new world. It had to be found.”

“It was lost?” Pepper asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” As’ad said. “It’s a celebration unique to your country. Although I believe the Canadians also celebrate Thanksgiving, but on a different day.”

He waited while the two girls straightened out the leaves, then he set the garland on top. It was attractive, he thought. Very festive. Kayleen would like it. The surprise would make her happy.

He imagined her throwing herself at him, and him pulling her close. Then the vision shifted and changed so they were both naked and he was pushing his way inside of her as they—

“As’ad, what traditions do you have here?” Dana asked.

He forced his attention back to the present. This was not the time to explore sexual fantasies with the girls’ nanny.

“We have many celebrations. There is the day the El Deharian armies defeated the Ottoman Empire. We also celebrate Christmas, although it is not as big a holiday here as it would have been for you back in the States.”

Pepped sighed. “I worry about Santa being able to find us here.”

“He’ll find you and he’ll enjoy the large fireplace in your room,” As’ad told her. “It won’t be so hard for him to get inside.”

Her eyes widened. “Santa comes to the palace?”

“Of course.”

“So I can write him a letter? I’ve been very, very good this year.”

“Yes. You can write a letter. We’ll arrange to have it sent through the royal post office, so it gets priority treatment.”

The little girl beamed at him.

“Will there be snow at Christmas?” Dana asked as she set yet another paper turkey on the bookcase.

“We do not get snow here.”

“I didn’t think so.” She shrugged. “I miss snow. We grew up in Michigan and we always had a white Christmas. We used to made snowmen and snow angels. Mom always had hot chocolate and cookies waiting.”

“I don’t remember her much,” Pepper said in a whisper.

“Sure you do,” Nadine told her. “She was tall and pretty, with blond hair.”

There was a wistful, sad quality to her voice. It tugged at something in As’ad. Like Pepper, he had minimal memories of his mother. Perhaps his older brothers had more. He had never asked. Instead he’d been raised by a series of nannies when he’d been young and tutors when he was older. Then he’d been sent away to school. It was the expected life of a prince.

“I don’t remember her,” Pepper insisted, her eyes filling with tears.

He crouched in front of her. “You remember snow, don’t you?”

She nodded slowly. “It’s cold and white and it makes my nose red. I want snow for Christmas.”

“It seems unlikely,” he told her. “We live in the desert, on the edge of the ocean. This is not a cold climate. But it can still be very beautiful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dana told him bravely. “You’ll see. It’s just the change. Change is hard. For all of us.”

“Agreed, but you are here now. This is where you will stay. Didn’t Kayleen tell you?”

The girls exchanged glances, then looked at him.

“We don’t know what we’re going to do,” Pepper told him. “We’re supposed to stay here, with you, but what happens when Kayleen leaves?”

He straightened. “What are you talking about? She’s not going anywhere.”

“Yes, she is. She told us a long time ago.” Dana drew in a breath. “She’ll be twenty-five soon. When she’s twenty-five she gets to go back to teach at the convent school where she grew up. It’s what she always wanted. What we don’t know is if we go with her or stay here with you.”

* * *

 

LINA HOVERED BY the front of the palace, not an easy thing to do when there were tour groups lining up, official visitors arriving and she was well recognized. She supposed it would make more sense to wait in her rooms until she was notified that King Hassan was in residence. But she couldn’t stand the thought of being confined right now. It was far easier to walk the length of the entryway—a distance of about two hundred feet—than walk back. If nothing else, she was getting her exercise for the day.

Part of the problem was she hadn’t slept for a week. She’d barely dozed the previous night and had been wide awake at four in the morning. It had taken nearly a half hour with chilled gel packs on her eyes to reduce the puffiness. Then there had been the issue of what to wear.

She’d gone through her considerable wardrobe more than once over the past few days. A dress seemed too formal, slacks too casual. In the end she’d settled on a black skirt and a silk blouse. She’d fussed over her makeup, her hair, her jewelry. It was like being sixteen again, but with all the baggage that comes with middle age. It was exhausting.

As she paced, smiled at visitors and did her best not to be recognized by the tour group moving into the palace, she told herself it was ridiculous to be so nervous. Officially she’d known King Hassan for years. But this was the first time he was coming to El Deharia to see
her.

“It’s not a date,” she murmured to herself, grateful the vast entryway was finally almost empty. “It’s a...a...” She sucked in a breath, not sure what his visit was.

A large SUV drove into the courtyard, followed by a dark Mercedes. Another SUV parked behind it.

Guards stepped out, looking stern in their business suits and sunglasses. One of them moved to the rear of the Mercedes and opened the passenger-side door.

Lina walked toward the car, telling herself to be calm, to smile and speak with at least the pretense of intelligence. King Hassan stepped out into the afternoon.

He was a man of medium height and strong build. His hair was gray, as was his neatly trimmed beard. He had handsome features and an air of confidence and power about him. There were no outward symbols of his rank, yet just looking at him, it was easy to guess he wasn’t like everyone else.

Lina hesitated. Normally she curtseyed when she greeted a monarch, yet that now seemed strange. Still, protocol and her upbringing won out.

But before she could offer the gesture of respect, Hassan stepped toward her, took both her hands in his and smiled at her.

“My dear Lina. You are more beautiful than I remember.”

He gazed into her eyes. She stared back, seeing pleasure and humor, along with something very much like interest. Her stomach continued to flop around, but the reason changed from nerves to anticipation. A warmth stole through her and she smiled.

“Welcome, sir. All of El Deharia is pleased at your visit. Me, most of all.”

He pulled her close and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Hassan,” he said. “You must call me Hassan. Do you forget how you mocked me in your e-mails? You can’t be formal now.”

They walked into the palace. “I never mocked you,” she told him, liking the feel of being next to him, close to him.

“You called me a crazy old man who was too concerned about his cats.”

She laughed. “I did not. You’re making that up.”

“Perhaps.”

He smiled at her, making her heart beat wildly and her throat get dry. It had been so long since any man had affected her, she thought happily. So long since she’d let herself notice a smile, a voice, a touch.

They walked along the main corridor, toward the elevators that would take them up to the guest floors.

“How is your first project coming?” he asked. “Has As’ad noticed the lovely Kayleen?”

“Absolutely.” Lina grinned. “She got lost in the desert and ended up with some local tribesmen. As’ad went after her and claimed her for his own. He says it was to keep her safe, but I think there was more to it than that. When they got back, Kayleen specifically told me nothing had happened. She was so intent on telling me that, I knew something had.”

“So you are a success.”

“Not yet, but I hope to be soon.”

They rode up three floors and exited onto a wide, open hallway.

“Your suite is just down here,” Lina told him. “It is the one you stayed in before.”

When they reached the double doors, she opened one and led the way in. The rooms were large, elegantly furnished and only used for kings and heads of state.

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