Desert Rogues Part 2 (83 page)

“You're right.”

Kiley thought about her plans for the future—to find another job, to buy a condo, to live her life fully. If a man came along in the next few years, that would be wonderful. If he didn't, she wasn't going to give up her dream of being a mother. She would find another way.

Margaret glanced over her shoulder to where Rafiq spoke with Robert and another couple.

“He adores you,” Margaret told her. “I can see it in his eyes.”

“Thank you. I adore him.”

Margaret waited expectantly.

Kiley laughed. “You're not going to get me to say any more. We're good friends. We have fun together. That's all.” Unfortunately, when the time was up, he would let her go, just as he'd let every other woman go.

“Are you sure?” Margaret asked. “He has to settle down sometime.”

“I'm sure he has a princess-in-training all picked out. He's not the boy next door. He has to be very careful about who he chooses.”

“Agreed. So why not you?”

Kiley knew all the reasons. She didn't have family connections or the right lineage. Loving him wasn't enough of a calling card.

 

“She's wonderful,” Margaret told Rafiq after dinner. “Where did you find her?”

“She works for me.”

Margaret smiled. “Your secretary. Then she's not your usual type.”

“Meaning?”

The ambassador laughed. “She's a real person with a heart and a brain. You don't always look for that.”

“I would have thought that to be in your position, some measure of diplomacy was required.”

Margaret shrugged. “I thought we'd known each other long enough for that not to be an issue. But if you'd prefer I can speak more delicately.”

“No. I like that you tell me the truth.” He offered Margaret a glass of cognac, then took one for himself. They were the last ones at the dining room table. Everyone else had gone out to admire the sunset.

She took a sip, then set down her glass. “Your father has been speaking with me. You know he's concerned.”

Rafiq could imagine the subject of their conversation. “I'm past thirty and not engaged. It's time for me to take a wife.”

“A list has been prepared.”

“I trust you didn't bring it with you.”

“I wasn't privy to it. I only know of its existence, and that I wasn't on it.”

Despite his displeasure at the topic, he smiled. “You tell that story of falling for me all those years ago, but in truth you were far more interested in your career than in any one man.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But it
is
a good story. Now, back to the subject you don't wish to discuss. I am your friend and I tell you this as a friend. You will be recalled by the end of the year. Your father is determined to see you married with an heir.”

He shrugged. “Then I will pick a wife.”

“You could sound more enthused about it.”

“Why? It is a duty, nothing more.”

“What about Kiley?”

The idea had crossed his mind. She was all he had ever wanted. But to marry her was to invite disaster. He would start to believe and have expectations. When she let him down, when she proved she was like all the others and that she could not love with any depth, he would be unable to forgive her. There had been too many disappointments in his life for him to be forgiving now.

“No.”

“Want to tell me why not?” she asked.

“Not really. I will pick a suitable bride and produce an heir.”

“You don't sound very happy about the prospect. I know you're a prince, Rafiq, but you're also a man. Don't you want to fall madly in love?”

He recalled all that had happened to him while he'd been growing up. All the times he'd been left alone because there was no one to bother. He thought of all the women who claimed to love him when what they loved was the promise of title and untold riches.

“I don't believe in love,” he said. “I prefer duty. A desire to serve can be trusted.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, and touched his hand. “I wish I could change your mind.”

“I assure you, I won't.”

 

Kiley walked into the restaurant shortly after twelve. The reservation was for twelve-fifteen, but she didn't want to be late. Actually, she didn't want to be here at all, but if her presence was required, then she would prefer not to be tardy.

Why had she agreed to this? What had she been thinking? In truth, the invitation had been such a shock that she hadn't been able to think of a reason to refuse.

She gave her name to the hostess and was shown to a corner table at the rear of the restaurant. Several of the surrounding tables were still unoccupied. Crystal gleamed on white tablecloths as jacketed servers moved quietly among the upscale clientele.

Kiley adjusted the front of her designer dress. It wasn't anything she would normally have worn to work, but this wasn't a normal day.

At exactly twelve-sixteen, a beautiful, well-dressed woman approached the table. Kiley stood and offered a tentative smile. The woman looked her up and down.

“So, you're the new flavor of the month. You're not exactly his usual type, are you? Well, sit down.” The woman took her seat and motioned to the waiter. “A martini. Very dry. Tell David it's me. He knows what I like.”

Carnie Rigby, former beauty queen, former actress and Rafiq's mother, glanced at her. “Let me guess. You'll have white wine.”

Kiley figured this had to be some kind of test. No one could be that rude on general principle. At least she hoped not. She leaned back in her seat and turned to the waiter.

“I'll have a glass of iced tea, please.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The man hurried away.

“Afraid you'll be muddled this afternoon?” Carnie asked as she shrugged off her jacket. “I doubt my son will care.”

“He might not, but I would.”

“That's the secretary in you. A secretary. Whatever were you thinking? I heard you'd been to college. Surely you could have done more with your life.”

Kiley was torn. She'd been raised to respect her elders, and she didn't want to insult Rafiq's mother. But she wasn't willing to be a doormat, either.

“I haven't had a chance to look at the menu,” she said, picking up one of the leather-bound pages the waiter had left. “What would you recommend?”

“I really don't care what you eat. You're not going to answer me?”

“Was there a question?”

“I suppose not.” Carnie glanced toward the bar. “Where
is
that man with my martini?” She sighed heavily, then turned back to Kiley. “You're living with him.”

Kiley hadn't known what to make of the invitation to join Rafiq's mother for lunch. She'd thought maybe the other woman had wanted to get involved in her son's life in some way. Obviously not. Either Carnie saw Kiley as a threat, which was flattering but not true, or she resented anyone her son was involved with. Kiley didn't want to add to her distress, but she refused to be walked on.

“Yes,” Kiley said calmly. “It's been a couple of weeks now.”

“He doesn't usually invite his women to stay at his house. Did yours burn down?”

Kiley laughed. “No. I believe it's still a perfectly sound structure.”

“You do realize this isn't going anywhere, don't you? There's been talk. I may not visit Lucia-Serrat on a regular basis, but I still keep up with the news. His father is displeased that he hasn't taken a wife. It's time for him to marry, and you're getting in the way of that.”

Kiley didn't know how much of what she said was true. Rafiq was expected to marry and she wasn't going to be considered a likely candidate. The topic made her uncomfortable, but she refused to let this woman know that.

“I am in Rafiq's life because he has asked me to be,” she said carefully. Okay, it was a partial truth. She'd asked to be his mistress and he'd said yes. It was almost the same thing. “As for me being in the way, I'm sorry, but that's not possible. He is a man who does as he pleases. If he wanted me gone so that he could go find a wife, he would simply ask me to leave.”

“Perhaps he has and you weren't paying attention.”

Kiley thought of the previous night, when he had made love with her for hours. She thought of how they had slept, so closely entwined, their hearts had beat in unison.

“Was there anything else?” she asked. “Another topic, perhaps. Because if your sole purpose for asking me to lunch was to try and bully me into leaving your son, then I must leave.”

Carnie's eyes narrowed. “You can't just walk out on me,” she snapped. “Who do you think you are?”

“Kiley Hendrick,” she said as she rose. “I wish I could say it had been nice to meet you.”

K
iley returned to the house and phoned Rafiq to tell him she wasn't coming back to the office that afternoon.

“I'm fine,” she said when he asked why. “I'm just feeling a little tired. I'll go in early to clear up whatever I missed today.”

“Not necessary,” he said. “Are you sure I don't need to call a doctor?”

“Positive. I'm fine. I just need a little time.”

“I'll be home later. Perhaps you should rest.”

Good idea, she thought as she hung up the phone. But after changing out of her designer clothes and into shorts and a T-shirt, she gave in to the call of the ocean and went out onto the beach.

It was midafternoon, midweek. While there were mothers with children, some teenagers and a few surfers scattered on the sand, for the most part, she had the beach to herself. She walked halfway to the water and settled down, digging her toes deep enough to feel the coolness a few inches down.

The sun was high, the afternoon warm, the waves rhythmic. If she closed her eyes she could smell salt and suntan lotion. The cry of seagulls competed with laughter and an oldies rock station on someone's portable radio.

Her brief encounter with Carnie had carried with it one spark of good news. If she, Kiley, wasn't marrying Rafiq, then she didn't have to worry about Carnie as a mother-in-law. Talk about a miserable person. Kiley still wasn't sure of the point of the meeting. To get rid of her? But how could she be a threat to anyone? Maybe Carnie checked out all Rafiq's women. She would have to ask.

As she stretched out her legs and stared at the ocean, she wondered what her life would have been like if she hadn't found out the truth about Eric. How long would it have taken for her to discover he was pretty much a weasel? And then what? She would have left him. No, this way was better. A quick, clean break that turned out to be much less painful than she would have guessed.

And what about when she left Rafiq? How easy would that be?

She found herself not wanting to think about it, which meant she had to force herself to consider the reality. Their affair
would
end. She could either handle that time gracefully, or she could beg and plead.

Graceful
sounded mature, but
pleading
had its place. She supposed the real question was whether or not she would tell him she loved him. It wasn't as much about him wanting to know as her not wanting regrets. Years from now would she want to have told him?

“Still time to decide,” she thought.

She closed her eyes and listened to the ocean. The tension eased out of her body as she relaxed. Eventually she leaned back in the sand and let the minutes drift by.

Sometime later she felt a slight prickling down her spine. She sat up and turned to see Rafiq walking toward her. He'd changed into jeans and a shirt and, like her, he hadn't bothered with shoes. He carried a towel or something against his chest.

She rose to her knees and waved at him. As she watched him approach, she felt the love filling her heart and knew she would have to say something before she left. Whether or not it mattered it him, the information was important to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he stopped beside her but didn't sit down.

“Better. I've cleared my head.”

“Good.” He lowered himself beside her. “I have brought you something.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not again. Rafiq, no. You have to stop buying me things. I've told you and told you I'm—”

He cut her off with a kiss. “I think you should stop talking now because when you see what I have, you will not be able to resist.”

He drew back the towel and leaned toward her. Kiley stared down at a sleeping pile of white, fluffy fur.

“A puppy,” she breathed quietly, wanting to pet it but afraid to wake it up.

“Yes. She is a Maltese. Ten weeks old.”

She looked at him. “You bought me a puppy? Why?”

“Because you said you wanted one.”

Just like that. Would he get her the moon, too? Tears burned in her eyes, but she blinked them back. No crying, not over something this wonderful.

“I did some research. I thought you would want a small dog, but one with a big personality. She seems quiet now, but trust me, when she is awake, she takes over the room.”

Kiley laughed and threw her arm around him. The puppy woke up and immediately began to lick her face.

“Look at you!” Kiley said, scooping her up and holding her out at arm's length. “You're so cute!”

She was all white, except for her black eyes and black nose. Her entire fanny swayed from her enthusiastic tail wagging.

“What a pretty girl,” Kiley said as she set the puppy in her lap. The dog immediately tumbled into the sand, stood, shook herself and scrambled back into Kiley's lap.

“She seems to have taken to you,” Rafiq said.

“Good, because I adore her.” She leaned in and kissed him. “Thank you.”

He feigned surprise. “What? No protests, no threats to leave her behind when you go?”

“Nope. She's family.”

“Good.” He put his arm around her and fingered her hair. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” She patted the puppy who promptly flopped onto her back, exposing her tender, pink belly for rubbing. “I wasn't sick, just tired, I guess.”

“My mother has that affect on people.”

She looked at him. “You told me not to meet her. You warned me she would be difficult.”

“And was she?”

“Sort of.” She sighed. “Okay, yes. She was difficult and rude and I don't know why she wanted to meet with me. What was the point?”

“What did you discuss?”

“Me? Not much of anything. She knew we were living together, although I don't know how. I didn't think you spoke to her very much.”

“I do not.”

“That's what I thought. She wanted to make it really clear that our relationship wasn't going anywhere, and she said you were supposed to be getting married and I was in the way of that.”

She held her breath after she finished, not sure what he would say back. For a long time there was silence. At last he kissed her neck.

“She's a foolish old woman. I hope you didn't let her upset you too much.”

Hmm, that was a neutral. “I tried not to. I told her that if you wanted or needed me out of your life, you would simply tell me.”

“True enough. But I don't want you to go. I want you right here.”

Just where she wanted to be. “You sure know how to turn a girl's head.”

He smiled at her. “Do you doubt my affection?” he asked.

“No. I think you like me a lot.”

“Is that enough for you?”

Dangerous, dangerous territory. She could see the flashing red lights all around her. The puppy wiggled to get more comfortable, then closed her eyes. And sighed.

“Yes,” Kiley said, knowing it was the closest she'd come to lying to Rafiq. Then, to change the subject, she stood and cradled the puppy in her arms.

“Have you thought this through?” she asked. “Puppies can be a challenge. There's the whole house-training bit, and chewing and all kinds of trouble. Oh, and she'll shed. You live in a really nice place.”

“I'll survive,” he said. “We may have to bribe Sana, if there is extra cleaning for her.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. I'll clean up after this little one.”

He reached over and stroked the dog's head. “You'll probably want to take her into work with you while she's so small. A workday is a long time for her to be left alone.”

“I'd like that. Thank you.”

They walked back to the house, his arm around her. Kiley did her best to remember everything about this moment so that she could have it with her always.

 

Rafiq knocked on the door of his mother's Century City high-rise.

“This is a surprise,” she said as she opened the door for him and returned to the living room. “You don't usually just stop by. I assume there is a purpose.”

“There is.”

He walked into the large, airy condo. The windows faced north, giving him a view of west Los Angeles, Brentwood and Hollywood in the distance.

She sat down and picked up a tumbler filled with clear liquid and ice. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

He crossed the pale carpeting and sat across from the woman who had given birth to him. From the time he could remember until he graduated from university in England, he'd seen her fewer than a half-dozen times. Once he'd grown and, as she had put it on his twenty-third birthday when she'd thrown a party for him, gotten interesting, she wanted to be a part of his life.

By then it had been too late for him. He was willing to treat her with some measure of respect—she
was
his mother—but that was all.

He suspected she used her connection to him when it was convenient, although that came with a price. To claim to be the mother of a prince meant admitting her age—something he knew she hated to do.

She was attractive, he acknowledged. Doctors had worked their magic to keep her skin tight and unlined. She dressed well, could converse on many subjects and knew the value of any antique, piece of jewelry or fine art. In many ways, she reminded him of a snake: cold-blooded, keeping to the shadows and intent only on survival.

“It's about the girl, isn't it?” Carnie said with a sigh. “I knew right away she was going to be tiresome.”

“Leave her alone,” Rafiq said. “You are to have no further contact with her. I don't know what game you're playing but I won't be a part of it.”

His mother sipped her drink. She wore a pale shirt tucked into tailored slacks. Her small feet were bare, her toes painted. She was the epitome of at-home elegance.

“My, my. I don't recall you being so protective about one of your women before,” she said with a smile. “How touching.” She set down her drink. “But honestly, Rafiq, is she all that different? At night, when you reach for her, couldn't she be one of a hundred different bodies?”

“I meant what I said. Leave her alone.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

His mother seemed unfazed by the statement, but he suspected it was posturing on her part. They both knew there was damage to be done. Should it come out that she had been snubbed by her own son, invitations would not flow so freely. The rich and famous would be less inclined to frequent her exclusive gallery.

“Interesting.” His mother gazed at him. “And this one matters why?”

“I'm not going to discuss that with you.”

“Of course not. You wouldn't want to risk me offering advice. What if it made sense? You couldn't possibly take it, because it came from me, and then where would you be?”

“I'm not a child who feels the need to rebel against you,” he told her.

“That's true. You're a man. A prince. Your father's heir. Are you aware that Kiley is in love with you?”

The question slammed into him with the subtlety of a California earthquake. He felt the floor shift, shake, then settle back into place.

In love with him? Kiley? It wasn't possible. She could not be.

“Unlikely,” he said, keeping his turmoil safely inside.

His mother laughed. “Oh, my dear. You may be all grown-up but you're still a man and blind where women are concerned. Of course she's in love with you. What did you expect? She's your secretary.” She paused and nodded slowly. “Yes, I know that. I know more than you think. I know that before you, she was engaged and he was quite the jerk. So she came to you, all sad and broken and you offered to fix her. How kind.”

That wasn't what had happened, but he wasn't about to correct her.

“Did you honestly think she was like your other women?” Carnie asked mockingly. “Did you think she would understand the rules and play by them? If so, you were mistaken. She's the kind of woman who leads with her heart, the poor fool. I'm sure she's saying all the right things, but trust me, she is desperately in love with you.”

He didn't want to know that. Part of him started to dismiss his mother's words out of hand. Kiley had known him for a long time. She'd seen the other women in his life, was clear on how the process worked. She wouldn't break the rules.

And yet…He couldn't ignore what Carnie said simply because he didn't like the messenger.

“What happens when you walk away?” his mother asked. “For you, she is simply one more conquest, but for her you are her prince. I mean that in the literal sense as well as the figurative. I can't blame her and you shouldn't, either. Look at her life, Rafiq. Look at what you have shown her, done with her. How could she resist? It's not her fault. But it's very sad. Imagine how her life will be when you tire of her. Who will pick up the pieces of her shattered heart then?”