I Want You for Christmas: The Prince's Lost Princess - a Heartwarming Snow-Capped Holiday Romance (27 page)

“Please don’t,” she yawned. “I don’t need that kind of worship for just doing my job. Goodnight, Your Highness.”

“Osman.”

She couldn’t help grinning at that. Waving him off, she closed the door to face a spacious, comfortable-looking bedroom.

Beyond exhausted, she kicked off her shoes and unstrapped her purse from her shoulder, amazed that somehow it had managed to survive all the battles she had fought this evening. Lying face down on the bed, she immediately lost consciousness.

***

Beth was dreaming. She was swimming in a lake of fire, sweat dripping from her face and stinging her eyes. She swatted at the flames, fighting desperately to get out of the roasting blaze.

“No!” she shouted as she sat upright in bed, her heart pounding. Her whole body was dripping with sweat, her black cocktail dress soaked. Holding her hands out in front of her, she walked like a zombie to the door, opening it to see Osman was already out there, further down the hallway, his candle flickering in the darkness.

Beth took a deep breath, gazing around. There were no signs of fire. So why was the house so hot?

“Where is your thermostat?” she asked, and Osman took her hand once more and guided her to the living room, holding the candle up to see the temperature. It was over one hundred degrees.

Beth wiped more sweat out of her eyes. “It says the air conditioning is on. Where is your electrical unit, so I can take a look?”

“This way,” Osman said, wiping his own sweat away. He looked tired and worn down. Beth wondered if he’d been sleeping at all, or simply reliving the events of his kidnapping. His hand was moist in hers as they made their way down into a basement, and over to what looked like the heating and cooling system.

“Hold that up for me, will you?” Beth asked.

When no light arrived, she looked up expectantly.

“I’m sure I’ve done this before. You hold the candle and I’ll take a look,” Osman said, handing the candle to her as he bent to examine the wiring and switches.

Beth took a step back, holding the candle close enough for him to see the box. A hot drop of sweat rolled down her back as Osman stared hopelessly at the wires. Taking a peek, Beth could see there was a fuse that had been turned the wrong way.

She waited as long as she could for him to figure it out, but her throat grew dry as her body continued to melt in the sweltering heat. Finally, she reached over his shoulder, flicking the fuse the right way. A burst of cold air washed over them, an instant relief.

Osman turned and grinned at her. “Is there nothing you can’t do, Beth Coolidge?” he asked before heading back up the stairs. She followed behind.

I can’t keep you out of my mind,
she thought.
So that’s something.

They made their way back to their rooms in silence, Beth lying back down and basking in the cool breeze that washed over her. Another wave of exhaustion hit, and before she knew it, she was passed out again. There were no more dreams of fire.

TEN

Beth

Beth woke up to soft morning light. She stretched, and immediately flinched. Her muscles were sore as hell—probably from beating up a series of large men over the past two days. She took a mental note to keep up her exercise regimen, to ensure her muscles stayed strong for whatever lay ahead.

Now that she was able to see the room better, Beth headed for the bathroom—and the shower. Her body was sticky with last night’s sweat, and the black cocktail dress was pretty much destroyed. Peeling it from her body, she gratefully stepped into the shower, allowing the water to wash away all remnants of the previous night’s escapades. She thought about the attackers, still unable to figure out a motive. That knife on the beach wasn’t just a threat—the man had lunged. She sighed.

Searching the closets and drawers for something to wear she came across a white dress patterned with blue flowers. It was like something out of the 1950s, with a corset-style waist and a flowing bottom half that danced around her knees. Around the middle was a sash that tied into a bow in the back.

On a whim, Beth reached for her purse and dug out the broach she’d taken from the woman at the club the other night. She’d been keeping it with her in case she ran into the woman again, though somehow she knew it had already been forgotten. It would look perfect pinned into the bow at her waist, and she placed it there, certain the other woman wasn’t missing it anyway.

She braided her wet brown hair, tying it at the end and dabbing the last of the water off the tips. It wasn’t exactly the best outfit for fighting in, but if it came down to it, Beth could fight in a dress if she had to. Besides, Osman’s mother didn’t seem to own any pants.

She exited into the hallway and glanced down the hall toward Osman’s room. His door was ajar.

Beth’s heart stopped. In the short time she’d known Osman he had been attacked twice. Last night she had taken her eyes off him for a minute and he was gone. Her heart rose to her throat as she raced down the hall and threw his bedroom door wide open.

The room was empty.

Beth fought down panic as she began searching the house, finding all of the rooms empty. When she made her way to a back sitting room, she heard a sound, and froze.

It was singing.

Peering into the backyard, Beth breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Osman’s back. He was hunched over, using a hose to water the plants, and, to her surprise, she realized it was him singing.

Gently, she slid open the glass door and stood in the doorway, listening. It was a song in his native language, she was sure of that. His voice was a deep baritone, and it was good. He could keep a tune very well.

Beth leaned against the door, listening and watching as he gently tended to his desert flowers, the warm air of morning already breaking through the cold of night. He had clearly found some old clothes in his room, as he was now wearing comfortable jeans and a T-shirt with a hoodie over it for warmth.

Unable to resist, she padded, barefoot, down a stone pathway to the gardens, and cleared her throat. The singing stopped instantly.

“Good morning,” Beth said with a grin.

Osman turned, and to her surprise, he was blushing.

“There’s no need to blush. You’re good,” she said, and he laughed.

“Not that good.” He cast a loving glance at the plants, and Beth felt a surge of jealousy. Really? Jealous of plants? Beth gave herself a mental shake, thinking briefly that she seemed to need a lot of those these days.

“What was the song?” she asked, taking a seat on a bench.

Osman finished watering the last of the flowers, frowning at the vast number of weeds that had taken over in his absence.

“It was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me and my sister. Honestly I’d forgotten about it until I woke up this morning, in my old room. It’s amazing how memories can flood back so quickly.”

“You never told me you had a sister. Where is she?”

Osman sighed. “She lives in Europe. Says that’s where she’s really meant to be. I want her to be happy, so I fund her lifestyle. She visits a couple of times a year.”

“You miss her, don’t you,” Beth observed.

Osman was staring wistfully into space. “I miss a lot of things,” he said, sitting down next to her. “After my dad died and I had to come home and take on the family title, I hated it. I liked living in Europe, too. I loved the lifestyle. I loved the beauty; the lush landscapes. I loved the freedom. When I came home I had to learn to take on my father’s role, and I wasn’t prepared for it. I wanted to do as I pleased. But money can’t buy you out of responsibilities. I had to remember the lessons my father taught me—or at least, tried to teach me,” he said, glancing down with a wistful smile.

“I wasn’t much of a pupil. I wanted to get out from under the weight of being a sheikh. When he died, I felt like I had no one to guide me. My mother tried, but…I wasn’t as good to her as I ought to have been. I might have told you that she is on vacation. That’s the line I use for anyone who asks. The truth is, she’s avoiding me. She doesn’t want to see what her son has become—just some playboy having fun all the time. There are things I said to her before she left…” Osman trailed off, staring out at his flowers with a tortured expression.

Beth patted his shoulder. “We all make mistakes when we’re young. It’s called learning. Your father may be gone, but it’s not too late to make amends with your mother, and ask her to join you at home. I’ve seen the way you are with your staff and your estate. You’re much more capable than you think,” Beth said, and Osman cast a weary glance at her.

“If these kidnappers have their way, Beth, I’ll never get a chance to prove to her that I am a better man than I used to be. If I’m taken again, I may never be able to tell her how sorry I truly am.”

In that moment, seeing Osman so full of emotion, Beth realized that she wanted to kiss him. It was a weird time to feel that way, she knew, but her urge to comfort him, to help him bring his mother home and make amends, was overwhelming. She didn’t want to feel this way, but the more she learned about him, the more she wanted him to be hers.

Beth gave herself a shake; she knew better than to get involved with someone at work. Her mind flashed to Connor, and that gave her an idea that she tucked away for later. She took a breath.

“We should eat something. It’s important to keep our strength up,” she said, rising.

Osman remained seated, looking at her as though he hadn’t really seen her yet that morning.

“You’re wearing my mother’s dress,” he said.

Beth shifted from one foot to the other. “Oh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find anything else to wear, and that cocktail dress was done for.”

Osman smiled. A warm smile, like the sun. Beth tried not to bask in it, and failed.

“Don’t be sorry. It looks good on you, and I’m glad to see someone making use of the wardrobe here. It’s been untouched for a very long time.”

Osman rose then, and the two of them enjoyed a canned fruit salad and some beans from the pantry. Though it was hardly like the extravagant meals they enjoyed back at the estate, to Beth’s starving belly it tasted amazing.

“I think we need to call the police,” she said after taking a sip of water.

Osman frowned. “I think that’s the last thing we should do.”

“Why?”

He snorted. “You think the police are going to help us? My country may be wealthy, but we’re by no means free of corruption. The police around here want to be just as rich as anyone else, and they’re always willing to take a payout from the right person. Al-Merindha is a glittering jewel, where everyone is very aware of wealth—especially if they do not have it. For all we know, the police could be the ones behind this.”

“That’s ridiculous. Where’s the payout in killing you?”

“I don’t think they ever intended to kill me, Beth.”

“Then explain the guy with a knife coming at you on the beach. Do you think he was just playing pretend?”

Osman chewed on a piece of fruit, ruminating. “Maybe he didn’t intend to kill me. I was unharmed once I was thrown into that van. They wanted me alive. Kidnapping is not uncommon among the wealthy, Beth. My mother may not favor me right now but you can bet she’d pay whatever it took to rescue me from a kidnapping. It’s a lucrative business for some people.”

“Well if we don’t have the police on our side, who are we supposed to reach out to for help?” Beth asked, exasperated.

“What about your employer?” Osman said. “Maybe he could send a team of his own men for protection, and with them we could figure out who’s behind this and bring an end to it.”

Beth hesitated. She had dismissed the thought of reaching out to Connor, but the only thing stopping her was ego. Sooner or later she was going to have to admit that she was in over her head. If she was going to ensure Osman’s safety, there was no other option but to swallow her pride and ask Connor for help.

“Do you have a phone in the house?” she asked.

Osman rose and brought over a cordless receiver, and Beth looked up Connor’s number in her cell, which was dangerously close to dying. She dialed the number and walked out of the kitchen when it began to ring, not wanting Osman to listen in on this particularly humbling conversation.

“Yello?” said Connor’s cheerful voice.

Beth cringed. How had she dated this guy, like, at all?

“Connor? It’s Beth.”

“Babe! How’s it going so far? I was thrilled to receive the signed contract for you—a six-month deal is good for possible reassignment later.” He sounded way too excited to hear from her. Plus, he was repeating himself. They’d already had this conversation…did he really not remember?

Beth gritted her teeth. “That’s why I’m calling, actually. Connor, we’re in trouble here. Since not long after I arrived a group of men have been trying to injure and kidnap the Sheikh. I’m in over my head here, Connor. The Sheikh says the police here are all corrupt, so we can’t reach out to them for help…”

“Woah, woah, slow down! Start from the beginning and tell me everything that’s happened.”

Beth walked him through all the events that had transpired up to this point—the sketchy men at the club, the attack on the beach, her attacker in the ladies’ room and Osman’s kidnapping. When she told him about how she found Osman using a tracking device he hooted.

“Oh bravo, Beth! You really are exceptional; you know that?”

She was swiftly getting irritated by his cheery demeanor. “We’re in danger here, Connor. Could you please try not to sound so excited about it?”

Connor softened his tone. “Look, babe, I’m sorry. You know how desensitized we get in the military. Anyway, I can help you out, of course. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll get a team out there as soon as possible. What’s your address so they can find you?”

Beth hesitated. Should she tell him exactly where they were? Maybe meeting somewhere nearby would be better. Then, she realized, this was Connor. As much as he was an idiot, she could trust him; she had in battle, and she would now. She gave him their exact location.

“Got it. Sit tight, Bethie Bear. We’ll be there soon to get you out of this little jam.”

“Thanks, Connor,” she said, ready to hang up as soon as possible.

“Anything for you, babe.”

“Hey, Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me babe, okay?”

Connor laughed. “Ah, Beth. I miss you all the time, you know that? We’ll see you soon!” he said, and the line went dead.

Beth pressed the off button on her own phone and made her way back to the kitchen to give Osman an update. He was doing a crossword puzzle at the kitchen table, but looked up eagerly when he saw her.