The Defiant Princess (11 page)

It would be unforgivable for Inaya to think he'd taken her to his bed whilst planning marriage to Princess Sabihah. That wasn't the way he operated.

Yet, he'd kissed Sabihah. Kissed her with passionate intensity while he was still involved with Inaya. Why had he behaved in a way that was so completely out-of-character?

His thoughts were scrambled. As much as he told himself he didn't want the marriage, the memory of Sabihah's lips against his own edged forward from the recesses of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

The kiss should never have happened—yet it had. As soon as their mouths melded, the lightning bolts of red-hot desire had zapped through every part of his body with a shocking voltage the likes of which he'd never experienced.

“Khalid,” his father broke into his thoughts, “Inaya's composure—her calm acceptance of the news of your upcoming marriage—told me all I needed to know. She wasn't the woman for you.”

“She's my choice.” Even as he said the words he wondered whether they still held true.

“You chose her for all the wrong reasons.”

“And you think an arranged marriage is right?”

“It's your duty,” King Hassan said, overruling his objections.

“I don't want a duty marriage.” Khalid was just as obstinate in his denial.

“My son,” the king scoffed, “listen to yourself. You chose Inaya because you know it's your
duty
to marry and produce an heir. You considered she would be suitable as a queen. Don't try to convince me it was a decision made with your heart and not your head.”

Khalid pressed his lips together to curb further rebuttal. The old man was right. If his position as Crown Prince had not necessitated it, Khalid wouldn't have contemplated a proposal to Inaya. He had no choice but to sacrifice the freedom of his bachelor lifestyle but at least Inaya had been his choice. Now Sabihah was being thrust upon him. He railed against the whole concept of an arranged marriage. Perhaps he'd been more influenced by his English education than his father realised. But couldn't his father see? Inaya would be a calm, dutiful wife, whereas marriage to the strong-willed Sabihah promised to be a hotbed of conflict. If he was to serve Turastan well, he didn't need the distraction of a truculent wife.

“Unless you're a supremely good actor and possess talents which have previously remained hidden, I suspect marriage to Sabihah will suit you very well. Can you tell me you do not feel a greater degree of attraction to her than you do to Inaya?”

“That is not open for discussion.”

His father had the temerity to chuckle. “The evidence speaks for itself. Despite all your liaisons, you've never let your guard down enough to be filmed holding hands with a woman, let alone kissing passionately in a public place. I also know you've never dated one woman while indulging in any form of dalliance with another. I know you wouldn't have been seen kissing the princess were you in love with Inaya.”

“Father.” The two syllables carried a weight of warning.

“Before you were Crown Prince, the level of media attention you attracted was of concern to me. However, this publicity may work in our favour. I've released a statement informing the world that the woman in your arms at the airport, known as Sabrina St. George, is your betrothed—Princess Sabihah of Rhajia. There will be huge international media focus on the lost princess and everyone at the palace feels her story will bring worldwide support for her rule.”

The guilt Khalid felt over Inaya was replaced immediately by crushing concern for Sabihah.

The world knew of her reappearance?

“What were you thinking? It's bad enough the Arab Council has been told of Sabihah's existence, but to throw the media into a feeding frenzy before she even has the chance to set foot on her home soil and come to terms with this? I don't know how she'll cope.”

“She's King Akram's daughter and her mother was a strong, courageous woman. She'll also have your support. I have every confidence she will handle this.”

Khalid's fist made hard contact with the surface of his desk. “Don't try to justify your actions. You must know you've done her a disservice!”

The king cleared his throat. “I had little choice but to act quickly, yet I do have faith in her. Her recent act of bravery is proof of the lengths she'll go to for the benefit of others. I believe she'll make Rhajia a great leader and you a pleasing wife.”

The rest of his father's announcement hit home belatedly.

“You shouldn't have announced our marriage.” Khalid ran a finger around the collar of his shirt. He could almost feel the noose tightening around his neck. The king's announcement made their marriage official. There was no escape now without inflicting public humiliation on the princess and risking offense to the Rhajian people.

No escape.

“It's fated. There's no point denying it.” The king paused. “Our main objective now is to depose Mustaf and prevent war between our countries.”

War was imminent, but it wouldn't come as quickly as the battle he had to fight with Sabihah. When she realised there was no option for divorce once they were married, she would be furious. He should've told her from the outset and put an end to the whole marriage idea of hers before it had progressed so far. But if he told her now, she might well refuse to go any further with the agreement and nothing would be resolved. If she walked away from him she was sure to be assassinated by one of Mustaf's hitmen.

A chill settled around his heart. He wouldn't let that happen. He'd embroiled her in this mess and he would protect her.

“Remember, this is the destiny you were both meant to share,” King Hassan advised.

Khalid barely managed to rein in his fury before he terminated the phone call from his father with a semblance of control. He wanted to throw the phone across the room and smash it to smithereens.

Duty.

The four-letter word now ruled his life. He understood the enormity of what it entailed, had thought he'd come to terms with it since Hazim's death. Yet muttered now under his breath, the word tasted bitter and unpalatable.

Resentment burned through his blood, pounded in his head. His breath lodged in his chest as powerlessness overwhelmed him.

He was trapped.

The current situation was beyond his control.

Shooting up out of the chair, he resumed pacing back and forth like a caged tiger searching for a way out. There seemed no alternative.

I should've been on that plane, not Hazim.

Guilt, anger and despair tore through his heart. Hazim was dead. It was up to Khalid to take his place and do what was right for Turastan. This marriage was part of his punishment.

But would it be such a punishment?

The memory of Sabihah's lush lips, and the sweetness of her mouth, washed over him. The chemistry between them was explosive, but would it burn out as quickly as it had ignited? She enticed him like some forbidden, addictive nectar. He wanted her as he'd wanted no other woman. Craved her as a dehydrating man craved water in the desert.

Part of him wanted to reject the yearning, but a larger part of him wanted to explore it. He would have every opportunity to feed the fires of his desire if they married.

Marriage!

Khalid bit back a curse. The whole situation was impossible, yet King Hassan was right in one regard. As much as he protested his lack of choice, Khalid was merely swapping one duty marriage for another.

Perhaps the thought was unworthy of him, but at the very least by marrying Sabihah the sizzling sexual awareness arcing between them could be explored and satisfied. It mightn't be the comfortable marriage he'd envisaged and if the princess harboured any romantic notions, it wouldn't be her ideal either. But having her in his bed promised some compensation for being bound by the shackles of marriage.

Feeling an unwanted hardness stir in his groin, he made his way out of the jet's office, scornful of his own thoughts. Now wasn't the time to dwell on his desire for the princess and there was no point in any further introspection because the die was cast. Thanks to his father's orchestrations, he needed to wake Sabihah and prepare her for what lay ahead.

His steps faltered and his throat tightened as he saw her. Despite just having lectured himself to keep control, instant desire blazed whenever he was near her. A high-octane fire burned in his blood.

The physical distance he'd placed between them on the jet, the time that had passed since their kisses at the airport, the amount of paperwork he'd immersed himself in during the flight—none of it had been enough to stop this strong pull of attraction.

Even now as he watched Sabihah sleep in the jet's luxurious sky bed, Khalid fought the urge to draw her into his arms and kiss her awake.

She shifted slightly. A strand of angel-blonde hair caressed her cheek the way Khalid's hands were itching to touch the smooth perfection of her skin.

Damn it all. She was just a woman.

A woman who was now to be his wife.

Reaching out, Khalid touched her shoulder. The zap of electrical current had him swallowing hard before he spoke. “Sabihah, it's time to wake up.”

Her eyelids fluttered slightly then opened. Her intense blue gaze collided with his.

“Khalid?” she asked in a sleep-husky voice.

“We land in an hour and a half.”

“Oh.” She scrambled upright. An awkward silence descended as Khalid steered his thoughts away from the gentle rise and fall of her generous breasts and how they would feel cupped in his palms.

He cleared his throat and took a step backward as he felt his blood rushing south. He must focus on preparing her for their arrival. “My father has announced you're alive.”

Panic flared in her eyes. “That wasn't supposed to happen yet!”

“King Hassan believes you'll be safer when the Council acknowledges you as rightful ruler. That's why he's informed the Arab Council of your imminent arrival.”

She threw the blanket off her and got up from the bed. Her stance was confrontational as she faced him. “I trusted you. Clearly I shouldn't have. You know full well I wanted to do this in my own time yet you've disregarded all I've said.”

His fists clenched by his sides. Nobody had ever intimated he was less than trustworthy. Again, he cursed his father's sheer bloody-mindedness in the handling of this situation. “I understood but my father chose to ignore the message I conveyed to him. “ He stood firm as her eyes threw daggers at him. “There'll be a representative from each country from the Council waiting to meet you.”

Her lips parted. “When's that going to happen?”

“They'll be on the tarmac when we touch down.”

“No! I'm not ready for that!” Her upper teeth began to worry at her lower lip. “Why didn't you tell me? I thought I'd have some time to adjust.”

“That was my plan. I've only just learned of this. Believe me, if I could have overturned my father's orders and sheltered you a little longer from the intense scrutiny you'll face I would have.” He hadn't had any time to prepare her for royal protocol. Rightful successor to the throne or not, all she said and did would be out there for criticism. If she didn't handle this arrival and meeting well, it could make her transition to the throne and her subsequent ruling of Rhajia much more difficult.

“Really?” She glared at him. “Or was this part of the plan all along?” She wrung her hands together as she faced him. “You told me we'd take this slowly, yet you've rushed me out of Australia at light-speed. You said you'd prepare me for all that I'd encounter but I feel like a total fraud.”

“I meant everything I said,” he acknowledged. “Unfortunately that's not the way things have turned out. The best we can do now is handle the cards as they've been dealt. Say little. Act as if you've been born to the throne—which you have—and leave no room for doubt in their minds.”

“Their minds must be full of doubt. They wouldn't just buy the whole story of my reappearance.”

“Of course not. They'll be highly suspicious. I believe that's why they'll be there to meet you and question you.”

“What about Mustaf?” She shuddered as she uttered her uncle's name. Every one of her features was taut.

“He's denying your existence.” Khalid shrugged as if it were inconsequential. He hoped that if he projected an image of calm it would soothe her nervousness.

“So, what's he going to do? Is he …?” Her voice quavered and she paled. He watched the slender column of her neck move up and down as she swallowed. “Is there likely to be an attempt on my life the minute I arrive?”

“The airport is secure.”

“What about the trip to the palace?” There was a note of panic in her voice, and he noticed the way she began to pleat the hem of her shirt with her fingertips. “My parents were assassinated in their car.”

Khalid exhaled a deep breath. “I understand your fears. I share them. Until Mustaf is deposed and locked up for the crimes he's perpetrated—and all his supporters are under control—your life is in danger,” he said. “But you're safer here than you would have been had you stayed in Australia.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Apart from denying I exist, has he reacted in any other way? Made any threats?”

Khalid's lips twisted. He noted she'd moved slightly and now gripped the back of a chair with such ferocity her knuckles were white. Of course she was worried, and she was entitled to the truth. “His troops are being mobilised and he'll declare war on Turastan unless my father refutes the claim that you're the rightful ruler of Rhajia.”

“Oh my God!” Both of her hands shot up to her temples. Her expression reflected her horror at the entire situation. “My reappearance was supposed to help Rhajia, not create a war. This is all my fault!”