“Will you never want me, my prince?” Serena asked

“I—I…” Cade stared at her, uncertain as to how to answer. “You have to give me a minute to think this through. I don’t know that I can make love to a woman intended for my brother. My mind still thinks of you that way.”

Serena leaned close to him, near enough to tease him with her perfume and her femininity. “Prince Kadar, your brother did not want me.”

“He didn’t have a chance to find out.”

“The race goes to the swiftest,” she said, placing her fingers lightly over his hand. “In this case, the crown, with all its benefits and drawbacks, goes to the fastest warrior. That would be you.”

“Only because Mac—”

“You are my choice,” she told him sincerely. “His arranged marriage is now yours. So, my husband, do you find me desirable enough to make love to me?”

His Arranged Marriage
Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book was a gift, and I thank Melissa, Denise and Tashya for giving it to me. Lisa and Dean, Mumsie can cease being a grouch now. Olivia Holton, your treatise on “sheikh appeal” was invaluable—this jet’s for you! Fatin Soufan and Shadin Quran, thanks for the support—this sheikh’s for you! Last, a smile to the one who inspired me as I wrote this book. You’ll never know you were the sheikh in my heroine’s dreams, but that is as it should be.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As a child, Tina Leonard cut her teeth on Alfred Hitchcock black-and-white TV shows, enjoying late-night summer episodes with her stepmother, Judy. To this day, Tina has an affinity for the old, scary movies, and the hokier, the better! Tina in person is a self-avowed chicken, however. The only brave thing she has ever done is scare a large rat away from an open car door! She eschews the blood-and-guts movies and books, preferring instead more psychological bogeys, and believes fervently that the most compelling part of any good romantic mystery is the timeless and magical love between a man and a woman.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“I’m not getting married,” Mac Coleman stated, “and that’s that.”

“That would be my response,” Cade Coleman agreed, shooting a grin at their mother, Rose. She stared back at her twin sons with dismay. “Mac shouldn’t have to marry a woman he doesn’t know—much less love—princess or otherwise.”

“Cade, you know that with Alex’s marriage to Hannah, Mac became the next prince in line to secure a royal match.”

“It’s hell being the oldest twin,” Mac grumbled. “I hate to be a disappointment to the family, but I’m much better with horses than women. Besides, thirty years old is much too young to get married.”

“Much,” Cade responded cheerfully, lifting a glass of tea to his brother’s sentiment.

“This is a serious matter, Cade,” Rose insisted.

Mac snorted. “Not since it’s not his neck in the matrimonial noose.”

Cade clapped his brother on the back. “Don’t take it so hard, bro. Maybe this princess is just what you need to break you out of your shell.”

“I like my shell just fine. Look, I spend long hours with the horses. She’s not going to want to be brought here and then left while I’m working. I’m pretty certain princesses expect to be waited on hand and foot.”

Cade raised his brows. “Well, those twenty-three minutes that saved me from being born first are certainly playing in my favor now. I wouldn’t be in your boots for anything.”

“The importance of this matter can not be underlined enough.” Rose leaned forward from her seat at the head of the table. “A marriage to Serena Wilson-Al Farid secures the lineage and will put the political turmoil concerning Balahar and Sorajhee to rest.”

“Imagine that a simple wedding band and an ‘I do’ can work such miracles,” Cade said. “Mac’s fine here at The Desert Rose, Mother. None of us needs to marry King Zakariyya Al Farid’s adopted daughter.”

“It is your rightful heritage, Kadar,” Rose said quietly. “It was stolen from us many years ago. This will put everything right again.”

Mac shook his head as Cade began another spirited rebuttal. “Mother’s right. I just need a day or two to absorb this.” Prince Makin—Mac—stood, suddenly tall and imposing beside his mother. Cade watched as mother and son stared at each other for a single second. Mac nodded before leaning down to give his mother a respectful brush on the cheek.

Then he left the room.

Cade sighed as he felt Rose’s even gaze upon him.

“I know. I’m not a dutiful son.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Looks like royal duty stinks to me.”

“Duty is an interchangeable word with responsibility.” Rose took a sip of tea. “Mac will do what he knows is right for The Desert Rose, and he also knows he is making me very happy. It is no small thing to be able to help achieve peace between countries that desperately need it right now, either.”

“Good boy, Mac,” Cade said under his breath.

“Cade, you have done a fine job handling the business end of The Desert Rose operations. But it is no secret to you, I am sure, that eventually this alliance could assure our position as a foremost Arabian horse farm. The most urgent factor, however, is that we gain back the royal heritage that was wrongly wrested from the family. I feel certain your father, were he alive, would approve.”

“No downside to the whole thing except for Mac’s heart. He’s never been easygoing or inclined to take life lightly.”

“No, he lacks that particular dynamic of your personality,” Rose agreed. “Sometimes not an altogether bad thing.”

“He’s too serious. He’s reflective. He’ll suffer if the marriage doesn’t work out. You know Mac will blame himself, at the least because of the responsibility involved. He’s a poster boy for doing the right thing. If this princess is a pampered pillow-sitter, or even if they simply can’t make this union a happy one, Mac will take it hard.”

“Whereas you would simply say, ‘Buck up, Princess Serena baby, this is life in Texas. Not like you saw on the Dallas TV show.”’

“Maybe.” He eyed his mother from the other end of the table, recognizing the steel in her eyes and her tone.

“I agree she would find it difficult to adjust to Bridle. That’s why Mac will live in Balahar for at least a year. It’s important that he learn about the country for the eventual day when he takes over as ruler.”

“Does Mac know that?”

Rose shook her head. “One shock at a time, I think.”

“It’ll kill him to be away from his horses that long.” But Cade knew that Mac would voice very little complaint. He would simply do it—for Rose. For The Desert Rose. And for a country he’d never seen.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “I’ve heard that heavy is the head which wears the crown, but this is ridiculous.”

“They have Arabian horses in Balahar,” Rose reminded him. “No doubt Mac can learn much from the king’s stables.”

Cade didn’t think Mac would have a lot of time to go through the king’s stables if he was supposed to be a devoted suitor to a princess. Mac wasn’t the kind of man who was at ease with women, parties and idle chitchat.

On the other hand, Cade was.

He got to his feet. “I think I’ll go talk to him.”

“Don’t try to talk Mac out of this. His mind is made up.”

Cade met his mother’s eyes. “Why would I try to do something like that?”

“Because you don’t take your heritage seriously,” Rose snapped in an uncharacteristically sharp tone. “This is more important than I can make you understand.”

Cade left the room. He did take life seriously. From the zygote that had been halved between him and Mac, however, the talent for lightheartedness had been unequally distributed.

Mac would never be happy in a foreign country, playing at being a prince. His heart was at The Desert Rose. No prize princess could ever make up for leaving that behind.

“DON’T DO IT,” Cade told Mac as he came upon his brother leaning against a wood post outside. Cade knew what Mac was staring at. Three horses, some of the world’s most admired and coveted breeding stock, grazed inside the corral. Mac’s eyes may have been on the Arabian horses, but Cade knew his heart was tearing at the thought that a bride would soon take precedence. “I told Mother I wouldn’t try to talk you out of anything, but I just want to remind you that you haven’t officially agreed yet. You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

Mac snorted. “Don’t you think I know that? But I could do it. I mean, what would it hurt? I don’t have time to hunt for a wife. I’m not the world’s luckiest guy when it comes to relationships and picking women. The bright side of this is that the princess won’t expect a whole lot out of me if she’s been groomed for an arranged marriage.”

“So why look a gift horse in the mouth? Is that what you’re saying?”

Mac smiled wryly. “So to speak.”

“Maybe Serena’s throwing a fit about having to marry you.”

“I’ve thought about that. She may have to do it, but no doubt she’s not exactly jumping up and down.” He sighed. “That doesn’t make me feel much better, to be honest. I’d like a bride who really wants me. And though I’m resigned to this, I’d be lying if I said that I look forward to leaving The Desert Rose.”

“You’re not much of a ladies’ man.”

Mac laughed. “Your conceited and totally wrong point being that I’m like a green stud who’d have to be shown what to do with a reluctant mare.”

“Something like that.”

Mac narrowed his eyes at Cade. “Are you offering to go to Balahar to smooth the waters between my bride and me? Sort of a romantic emissary?”

“I do a lot of traveling,” Cade said. “You don’t. In fact, you’ll have to get your passport updated. You’ll have to take a charm class. New duds and a suitable gift for your fiancée will be necessary. You don’t have time for all of that.”

“I hadn’t thought of any of that stuff.”

“You’re too busy with the horses. I’m used to the business end of The Desert Rose. There wouldn’t be much difference between conducting transactions for a prize horse or a bride.”

“A princess.”

“She should be your princess,” Cade said softly. “Mac, I want you to have the woman of your dreams. That wouldn’t matter so much for me, but it matters for you.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Cade could see his brother wavering. He knew his twin well. Mac would perform his duty, but his heart was sick over it. He couldn’t bear to see Mac suffer. “This is a mistake that could hurt you for a long time, Mac.”

“But why? Why wouldn’t it hurt you?”

Cade shrugged. “As Mother said, I don’t take life as seriously as you do.”

“So what would you do? Marry this woman and then leave her to her own devices?” Mac’s voice was incredulous.

“I wouldn’t get real worked up about it, that’s for sure.” Cade shrugged. “It’s an arranged marriage. Once the princess learned her place, we’d probably get along fine. Anyway, all I’m suggesting is that we check her out first. Then you’ll at least know what you’re getting. Never buy merchandise you haven’t handpicked, you know. You wouldn’t buy a horse without checking its teeth, would you?”

Mac snorted. “I’d be glad to trade identities with you, because I don’t think the princess is going to go for having her cheeks pinched open and her molars prodded.”

“Let’s pull straws.” Cade grinned. “Short straw gets to visit the ugly princess.”

Mac turned a bit pale. “Who said she was ugly?”

“Hey, if she was any great catch, her family would be raffling her off to some important nation, not trying to ship her off to us. If she’s not ugly, then she’s meaner than a bull that’s short on mates. Trust me, this princess is a booby prize.” He sighed heavily. “I’d be willing to bet she doesn’t even ride a horse. Probably has some retainer ride her horse for her.”

“That’s it! Get out the straws!”

Cade grinned at Mac’s desperate tone. He snatched up two pieces of hay that lay nearby, chewing one short. Holding them up for Mac’s inspection, he palmed them. “Draw.”

Mac swallowed. Reluctantly he took the straw Cade had placed nearest him, as Cade had known Mac would. Mac never veered from his course. Even when they were kids, he’d always taken the straw closest to him. “Lucky you,” Cade said, as Mac’s face lit up. Cade put his straw in his back pocket. “You stay here and mind the heart of The Desert Rose. I’ll go check out the princess’s heart and let you know the lay of the land. I needed to be over in Saudi Arabia to meet with some potential clients anyway. This’ll just be a minor detour.”

“I sure would appreciate it,” Mac said gratefully.

Cade smiled.

“How are you going to pull this off, Cade?”

“We’ll simply tell Mother you’re going to take some time to think over the situation. She doesn’t need to know I’m doing a little covert babe-watching. Since basically it would take our mother or a fingerprint to give away the fact that I’m not you, I don’t see it as a problem. It’s not like they’re going to lay down the red carpet for Prince Makin until a formal decision is reached, bro. From what I gather from Mother, this whole marriage thing has to be pretty hush-hush so that old King Azzam doesn’t find out and start up with his evil bag of tricks again.”

Mac shook his head. “I gotta be honest, I’m not much for political intrigue.”

“I know. It’s definitely a drawback to the good life.” Cade smirked.

“It’s hell having to ask your brother to possibly be assassinated in your place.”

The smirk was instantly replaced by a frown. “Who the hell said anything about me being assassinated for you? I’ll be in and out of the country so fast Azzam will never even know I was there.” He smiled reassuringly at his brother. “Don’t worry so much. I can pull this off without a hitch.”

THE TRUTH WAS, of course, that Cade had made certain he had the short straw. He didn’t want his brother to go to Balahar. Mac wasn’t cut out for marriage to a woman he didn’t know or love, especially a princess who could very likely turn out to be hard to handle.

Cade, on the other hand, had loved women with all the enthusiasm of a handsome, confident male who knew how to please a lady, and make her feel like a princess when the morning hours dawned and it was time to say goodbye. A difficult woman was more his forte than Mac’s.

More than anything, it would hurt him to see his twin suffer. If Mac was happy, then Cade would be happy.

This was the wrong time for a woman to be foisted on Mac. Cade was a little annoyed that his mother didn’t recognize this fact. Mac had been engaged some time ago and nearly made it down the aisle when he discovered his fiancée was pregnant by another man. Talk about heartbreak. Cade sighed.

And then at their cousin Jessica’s graduation from the University of Texas last December, Mac had slipped away for the evening. Seeing Mac the next morning, Cade tried to pry out of his brother where he’d been the night before. Mac was elusive, and Cade suspected his brother had met a mystery woman. But if he had, he refused to be teased into an admission.

That was Mac, though, Cade thought. If it had been Cade, he would have written the whole matter off as a windfall adventure. He might have thought about the woman again, but not often.

No, going to Balahar to make certain his already-wounded brother wasn’t getting saddled with a rack pony as opposed to the wonderful woman his brother deserved was a job Cade would gladly undertake.

Royalty be damned.

“I WILL NOT MARRY HIM,” Princess Serena insisted. “There are plenty of princes from whom I can make my own choice.”

King Zak sighed at his adopted child’s insistence. Adopted maybe, but no less a daughter of his heart. “I want you to be happy. I need also to make certain that peace is achieved between our country and that of Sorajhee. I am not asking you to be a brood mare, a sacrificial lamb. This marriage with an old family of royal standing and popularity among our people would pacify the peoples of Sorajhee and Balahar. Could you not just meet Prince Makin?”

“I will meet him,” Serena said with a toss of her head. Rich, light emerald eyes flashed with determination, and her chestnut tresses shone with fire. “I will meet him, and I will be a dutiful daughter to the father who has been so good to me. But I promise you one thing. I will not love him, this royal pretender to our throne. He will be haughty and overbearing, as all Americans are. He can never fit into my world. Just because he breeds Arabians does not mean he will breed with this one.”

“Rena!” King Zak murmured with some surprise. “You are more American than you think. Your father’s bloodline left his mark on you in more ways than one.”

“I have grown up in Balahar. I could never be American. The idea of marrying a cowboy makes me—” She faltered at the distressed look on her adopted father’s face. “I will do it,” she murmured. Slowly she moved forward to kiss the king on the cheek. “Please pardon my unforgivable loss of composure. I know you are doing the best thing.”

“You do understand?” King Zak asked with relief.

“I do. If I were ruler and had the choices set out before me that you do, I would choose no differently. I, too, love Balahar and its people.”

“Ah, Rena,” the king sighed, placing her soft hand against his face. “You have been the daughter to me that Queen Nadirah and I prayed for and were never granted. Thank you, my daughter. I promise you this will all work out for the best.”

Serena closed her eyes as she stroked her father’s cheek. If she was lucky, the cowboy prince wouldn’t be brash and mean, a J.R. Ewing looking to take over the Middle East with this marriage. There was much to gain for her would-be suitor, and much for her to lose. Her freedom. Her pride. Her dream of falling in love with a prince of her own. She might not have been Al Farid by birth, but she had grown to love the country. A prince of the Middle East had been her most fervent hope.

Prince Makin would come to meet with her. She would accept his suit. They would agree to a royal match that would benefit everyone and the countries involved, and most especially the father she loved more than anything But she would never, ever love Prince Makin. That was something no one could ask of her.

Her heart was her most closely guarded treasure, and it would never belong to a pretender.

Chapter Two

“I hear rumors that the Princess Serena may be marrying,” Queen Layla whispered into her husband’s ear.

“Whom would she marry? There are few princes available who would suit Al Farid’s daughter.” Azzam chuckled and got up from the bed. “Why not a marriage for his son, Sharif?”

“Sharif is young and hotheaded, while Serena, though young, is more amenable to her father’s wishes. Or perhaps Zakariyya Al Farid is hoping that this more minor marriage of his daughter will build the people’s faith in his rule and give him more time to make a truly advantageous match for Crown Prince Sharif, one that befits a future king—should Zakariyya decide to give the ruling family throne to a foundling child rather than unite with you.”

The last words came out on a near snarl that Layla managed to temper at the last second. She rose up on her side, trying to recapture her husband’s full attention with the alluring pose. “Possibly you should have a word with the king, in order to assist him with the proper choice for his princess. I am certain he would appreciate your counsel.”

Azzam glanced back to Layla, his attention captured by her words and not her pose. “Are you suggesting that the adopted daughter of the king could present a threat to my rule of my own Sorajhee throne? Power doesn’t come through princesses.”

Layla uncomfortably thought about Rose Coleman and the four boys she’d delivered. Why couldn’t Layla have been so blessed by Allah? Moreover, why couldn’t Layla have won Ibrahim in the first place, rather than Rose winning his heart? All the years of secrecy, pain and betrayal had begun in the moment the American Rose had stolen Ibrahim’s heart. If he had chosen Layla, she would have had the sons, the heirs to the Sorajhee throne.

All she’d gained in the years since she’d had Ibrahim assassinated and Rose incarcerated in the asylum was fading looks and declining power in the region. Even if she had the Balahar ruler assassinated, there was a crown prince. And Serena, and a possible new marriage to an El Jeved prince, according to her palace spy. There were many problems that stood in her way.

Particularly if the Coleman-El Jeved princes ever came to press their right to the throne.

She glanced at her husband as a maidservant assisted him with his robes. He wasn’t the young, vibrant male she’d married with great hopes. Sometimes she thought he was content to allow King Zakariyya Al Farid to rule both Balahar and Sorajhee. How could he be so complacent! Being number two had never sat well with Layla.

And now the new information of a rumored marriage for Serena Al Farid. The girl was of age. A marriage was not what bothered Layla. King Zak had not bothered to discuss the union with Azzam, a fact of importance that seemed to escape her husband. The secrecy and planning of the marriage meant that evermore the Balahar throne slipped further from Azzam, leaving him with only the smaller country of Sorajhee.

Layla sighed. Once again she would have to assist her husband. Behind the scenes, as always, a fact which galled her. Surely she had not erred by stealing Rose Coleman’s youngest son and secretly giving him to King Zak and the now-deceased Queen Nadirah—as a seeming gesture of caring—to raise? This irony unsettled her. Until she realized that King Zak could be planning to marry off his daughter without consulting Azzam, she had not thought her husband’s position as supreme ruler was in jeopardy. But with the queen dead and Zak unwilling to seek solace amongst his harem, possibly he was feeling all his powers waning from him and was setting out to shape the new destiny of the country—without consulting the rightful king.

Azzam should be king of both countries, and she should be queen, set far above the petty scurrying she was forever forced to do to maintain their importance in the Balahar-Sorajhee union.

One day, Layla vowed, she would be queen, with subjects who adored only her.

IF THERE WAS ONE THING that occupied Mac’s mind more than what Cade was attempting on his behalf, it was the unfinished business he’d left behind the night of his cousin Jessica’s graduation. What had he been thinking by spending a night with one of his cousin’s friends?

But the lady he’d met had been so pretty. She was gentle and quiet, with brown hair like a baby deer and eyes so blue he felt he could see Texas heaven in them. Cade had been right: Mac did take life seriously. He didn’t sleep around, and he didn’t treat women like interchangeable dates.

Something had happened to him when he’d met the woman the night Jessica graduated. Sizzle hotter than fire and electricity more powerful than a horse’s kick had jump-started him into believing that maybe there was a woman out there for him, a sweet woman who was as different from his ex-fiancée as he could possibly find.

And then she’d been gone. Before he’d had a chance to know everything about her that he desperately wanted to know, the girl he’d known for only a stolen interlude of lovemaking had vanished with the dawn.

He should be happy. No promises, no strings.

But a spark had touched his heart when he least expected it, and when his mother had mentioned him marrying a princess, he’d felt his heart open a none-too-healed wound.

With this new worry that his mother was intent upon securing a royal match for him—and knowing that the time Cade was buying for him was all too short—Mac needed to do something he had steadfastly avoided doing.

He had to try to get Jessica to reveal the name of her friend without her figuring out what he was up to. This would be no easy accomplishment. Jessica was smart and quick and merciless with teasing where her cousins were concerned, a payback for all the years they’d lovingly teased her about the two-colored eyes she possessed. If she thought a woman was on his mind, Jessica would ferret out who, what, when and where.

That could be a disaster. Knowing Jessica, she’d probably conjure up the dream girl for him. Which didn’t seem quite fair, since he wasn’t positive the girl would want to see him. They had, after all, rendered a tacit agreement between them to let the night of pleasure be enough for both of them.

He was not a man to go back on his word, spoken or unspoken.

But he had no choice. Jessica was the only one who held the information he needed.

Going to the stables, he found her grooming the stallion Jabbar. Older, but still a handsome Arabian, Jabbar tolerated very few people near him. Jessica and Jabbar seemed to have an understanding about how much grooming a male could tolerate. Jabbar certainly didn’t mind her light touch.

Of course, Jabbar didn’t have to put up with anything but gentle coaxing and praise from Jessica. Mac, on the other hand, was of no mind to be on the teasing side of her tongue.

“Jess,” he said quietly, so that he wouldn’t startle her or the stallion.

“Hey, Mac.” She sent a smile his way but continued single-mindedly with her task.

Maybe this was the best time to quiz her, when her attention was fully engaged elsewhere, Mac decided on a hopeful note. “I was looking at some pictures from your graduation today.”

She smiled but didn’t look up. “Were you?”

“Yeah.” He scratched at his chin. “I was surprised you graduated so high in your class.”

A snort greeted his words. “I was surprised that you graduated at all.”

He smiled. This light banter covered his deeper mission. “I was somewhat amazed you had so many friends. Obviously they got to see a side of you we never do.”

“Shut up, cousin. I reserve my best side for you.”

“Ahem.” Nonchalantly he peered into another stall before glancing at Jess’s stoic face. “Wondered if you were planning on having any of your friends out to the ranch. If you’re missing your buddies, you know you’re welcome.”

She shook her head. “I’m going on a girl’s-only trip with a bunch of them soon. One of them is getting married, so we’re going to have a bachelorette vacation. If everybody’s going to start getting married, this may be the last time we can all get together like this.”

His heart fell into his boots. “Really? Who’s going down the aisle?”

A curious glance came his way. “Why are you asking?”

He shrugged.

She raised a brow. “I don’t think you’d know her.”

“I might.” I might know her better than you think.

Turning back to inspect Jabbar’s coat, she said, “Susie Anderson.”

No. He had not made love with a Susie, he’d be willing to bet. His heart lifted. “Your friends all seemed real nice. The ones I got to meet at graduation anyway.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

This was definitely a dead end. He couldn’t come right out and ask her about some girl and give her a description without her figuring out why he was asking.

“Aunt Rose mentioned that you’re probably going to be taking a little trip of your own soon,” Jessica said, glancing at him with a saucy smile. “A honeymoon maybe.”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with shock at hearing her speak what he didn’t want to think about. There was no way he could ask Jess about one of her girlfriends when he was as good as promised to another woman.

“Maybe,” was all he said as he fled the stable.

ROSE DIDN’T BELIEVE for one minute that her sons intended to fall in willingly with an arranged marriage. Prince Makin had been shocked and might have gone along with it, but yesterday Prince Kadar had possessed a mischievous glint in his eyes that spelled a rocky road ahead for the plan. She smiled to herself. Kadar would require a much defter hand when it came time to plan his engagement. If only he knew how much an Arabian prince he truly was! His wife would be hard-pressed to keep him out of the harem.

Of course, Ibrahim had been much like Kadar in his appreciation of women—until he’d met her. Perhaps it was simply finding the one woman of Kadar’s heart for him to be captured completely.

It had not escaped her notice that Makin was more reticent than ever when it came to dating, even stating once that he would never marry. That’s why she’d thought that he was best suited for an arranged match with Serena Al Farid—notwithstanding the fact that he was the son second in line in the ascension.

How much she would like her sons to regain their rightful place! Pulling this marriage off before Azzam discovered it would be fortunate beyond words. Her princes deserved their father’s heritage.

She hadn’t counted on Kadar’s very definite opposition to his twin’s engagement. Perhaps in time he would come to see that Makin, with his avowed dislike of dating, could best benefit by this arrangement. It would not require his heart to be involved, which might suit Makin just fine.

Perhaps she needed to explain her thoughts to Kadar. Having him understand that she hadn’t coldly arranged this match out of a desire for power could be the key. She went in search of him in his quarters.

Kadar’s room was empty. Rose turned, meeting Ella in the hallway.

“Have you seen Cade?” Rose asked the housekeeper.

Ella gave her a strange look. “He left for Saudi Arabia this afternoon, remember?”

How could she have forgotten! This marriage weighed so heavily on her mind. “I had forgotten. Thank you for reminding me.”

It didn’t matter. She could talk to him when he returned from his business trip. A few days wouldn’t make any difference, and would give her time to work on Makin.

“Ella,” Rose said suddenly, turning to call after her. “Do you happen to know if Mac is in the house?”

“He went to look at some foals up in the Panhandle. Didn’t he tell you? He said he was going to.” Now Ella’s expression was perplexed.

Rose shook her head before she could give away her own surprise. It wasn’t like Makin to disappear like that! Perhaps her suggestion of an arranged marriage had rattled him more than he wanted to admit.

Then again, a few days to himself to digest the startling suggestion she’d put forth might be the best thing.

For just a moment, Rose wondered if Kadar was up to something. It was strange that both men were gone at once.

Then she shrugged it off. Kadar and Makin were grown men. They wouldn’t do anything rash.

CADE WAS ASTONISHED when his plane was met by a respectful retinue of men dressed in long robes and head ornamentation. Though he was wearing jeans and boots, he went through the traditional Arabian greetings.

“Welcome, Prince Makin,” one serious-looking official said to him.

Cade started. “I—” He swallowed. This was the time to come clean, to say that he was not the prince they thought. “I am happy to be here,” he said. All he’d done was place a call to the king’s adviser to let him know he’d dash by for a quick meeting with the ruler before he went on his travels. He hadn’t expected the royal treatment!

“The king awaits your arrival,” a taller man said, pointing Cade toward a black Mercedes limo.

Cade got in. I’m doing this for my brother. I can handle lunch with the king. It’s not an afternoon of business golf or anything. It’s lunch, a little schmoozing, hopefully a sneak peek at the princess, and I’m outta here.

His stomach tightened as the five stern-looking officials fitted themselves into the limo around him. It was clear that this was a mission of utmost dignity for them. The bulletproof windows were meaningful evidence that everything about this mission was important. His brother would not have enjoyed this grave treatment at all.

Any princess that lives with this bunch of stiffs guarding her is probably going to be a pain in the rump, he told himself.

I’m doing the right thing for Mac.

PRINCESS SERENA Wilson-Al Farid allowed her maidservants to dress her in silence. To her surprise, Serena had learned that her intended groom was already on the way from the airport to meet her. Apparently he was more eager than she for the match. In one way, it was a compliment to her.

In another way, it had to mean that Prince Makin was very interested in solidifying his position within the royal family and possibly securing a future throne for himself. This was the most likely scenario, and Serena had to admit she didn’t much like the sensation that she was merely a marital chip to one man’s ambition.

And yet that was the reality of her situation.

“You are beautiful, Princess,” she was duly informed.

It wouldn’t matter if she were as ugly as intrigue, but she nodded in thanks for the compliment.

The ladies bowed their heads to her respectfully as they filed from the room. Serena glanced down at the shimmering cloth that had been skillfully draped to cover her and yet reveal her feminine charms and beauty. Amethyst with gold adornment highlighted her hair and the depth of her eyes.

It was all rather wasted on an American cowboy.

She could only pray that Prince Makin was kind, that he was at least handsome enough that she could stand to look at him in the light of day, and that he wasn’t overly impressed with himself. Americans tended to think highly of themselves. Men in general were that way.

If he was a man who thought he was going to ride in and carry her off on his Arabian stallion, Serena thought she would have to really bite down hard to keep her dismay in check.

She would know in less than thirty minutes.

In the hallway outside, the sound of maids scurrying with excitement caught her attention. That meant the arrival of the prince.

Serena closed her eyes to compose herself and waited for her maids to fetch her.

The door flew open.

“He’s here! The prince has arrived!” her ladies announced with glee.

Serena stared at them. “And the palace gossip says he is…?” she prompted.

They looked back at her uneasily.

“Out with it,” she told them. “Prepare me for the worst.”

“Tall,” was the first response.

“Loud,” was the second.

“Not dressed appropriately,” was the third. “Not like a prince.”

Serena’s eyebrows rose.

“Jeans, a cowboy hat and boots, my lady,” her most trusted handmaiden explained.

Serena drew herself up, unwilling to allow palace gossip to titter over the depth of her dismay. Nor would she embarrass her bridegroom with her reluctance.

“Take me to him,” she said.

Chapter Three

The minute he stepped into the palace, Cade knew he’d underestimated the warmth of welcome extended to Prince Makin. King Zak’s idea of hush-hush apparently didn’t extend to a close gathering of advisers. A large room Cade would have described as a ballroom was filled with people wearing lavish ceremonial dress and jewels. It was a greeting meant to please and impress a future ruler.

King Zak apparently felt that to do any less would be to insult Prince Makin.

“Balahar and its king welcome Prince Makin,” a courtier announced.

Cade was led forward. He saw beautiful woman after beautiful woman, all with their eyes downcast as he passed them. If he were in a different position, he would have been strongly inclined to take advantage of the wealth of loveliness temptingly displayed before him.

The king of Balahar sat on a throne at the end of the room, his face lit with a proud smile. Cade was ushered to within two feet of the regal king. He bowed deeply, only rising when the king touched his shoulder.

And then Cade saw the princess. She was brought forward from somewhere behind the throne, and took her place to the side of the king. She was arrayed in stunning purple and gold, and more strands of gold laced through magnificently burnished hair that reached her waist. Cade could see her eyes because she didn’t keep them lowered as he knew custom dictated. Nor did she curtsy as her maidservants were frantically indicating she should. She merely looked at him evenly with fabulous emerald eyes that assessed him as he did her.

She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t petite, either.

In fact, she was just the perfect height for him. She watched him, and he watched her, and the whole court waited, enveloped in a hush.

He’d never seen a woman like her. The words that blew into his mind weren’t royal in the least: What a babe! She’s a goddess. Mac’s gonna have a fit when he sees how lucky he is!

The princess never blinked as he stared, her perusal so thorough and honest that he had to smile. He’d been checked out by females before, but this lady left coyness to her Arabian sisters. He could tell his jeans and boots didn’t necessarily agree with her but that something about him caught her interest in spite of herself.

So she was as reluctant as Mac was. And not about to get caught buying a stallion without checking out its molars, either.

Cade couldn’t help himself. She was an absolute doll. He grinned hugely at her.

The court erupted with excited whispers and muted applause.

“Welcome to the family, Prince Makin,” King Zak said. “Your acceptance of my daughter, Serena, brings great joy to my heart.”

SERENA’S HEART JUMPED in her chest when her father spoke the words from which there was no going back. It’s done, she thought wildly as the chattering voices swirled around her. King Zak embraced his new son-in-law, and then the prince bowed before her, taking her hand in his as he kissed her fingers.

Shock ran through her. The cowboy prince was not following custom, and it caught her off guard. Strange feelings of excitement ran through her at the touch of his lips brushing her skin. Amazement rippled over her as she hesitated, unsure as to what she should do next. What did he expect from her?

“Smile for me, Princess,” he said softly, for her ears alone.

His husky command threw her into confusion. That voice sought her compliance, made her want to do whatever he wanted of her.

This was not the way she wanted to feel about a husband she wished to feel nothing for.

Even for a princess who knew her duty, the magnetic appeal seeking to steal her senses was overwhelming. Before Serena could force herself to obey her prince, her cowardly legs managed a brief curtsy before she escaped to the shelter of her room.

I cannot do this! I cannot marry a man who looks at me as if he could devour me with a single kiss!

WITHIN MOMENTS, her maidservants came for her. There was no escaping her fate now that Prince Makin had nodded his acceptance of their arranged marriage. Her hair was swiftly combed to hang free to her waist, no longer adorned with the gold ribbons. Perfume meant to tantalize her bridegroom was lavishly dabbed at her temples and between her breasts.

She was taken to a small antechamber where the king and Prince Sharif—King Zak’s other adopted child—and her own prince awaited her. The look on Prince Makin’s face was somehow priceless. He’d been pried from his jeans and robed in raiment befitting an Arabian prince for his marriage. Because of the need for swiftness and utmost secrecy, the only other people in the room were the king’s trusted adviser, her favorite maidservant, and the official who would bless their union. Momentarily she wondered if Prince Makin was taken aback by the lack of pomp surrounding their marriage, but that was impossible. It was his mother, Rose Coleman-El Jeved, who had emphasized the need for such.

The ceremony was over in a matter of moments, which flew by all too quickly. Numbly Serena realized that not only was she now irrevocably married to the American pretender, he fully intended to claim a kiss from her. Heart rate accelerating, she closed her eyes and prayed the kiss would be mercifully swift.

FOR A MAN USED TO THINKING on his feet, Cade would later admit to himself and everyone else that he’d been caught totally off guard. First off, he hadn’t realized that a simple smile meant he was accepting the princess as his. Second, he would have to confess that his command of Arabian hadn’t prepared him for the swift rush as he was led to a private chamber where his clothes were swiftly replaced with more appropriate ones. Realizing he was in over his head, Cade opted to keep his mouth shut.

To admit now that he was not Prince Makin would bring such embarrassment upon the family name it couldn’t even be considered. And he could only envision the humiliation on his mother’s face if he were found out. Prince Sharif stared at him with an enigmatic smile on his face, one dark eyebrow raised, his lips curled as if he owned the world. And as if he could read Cade’s discomfort with the trap he’d gotten himself jammed in.

Cade’s gaze shifted to the golden trap named Serena. He was stuck with this lovely woman. From the frantic, frightened look on her face, he figured they were both roped into a corral neither of them wanted to share.

Maybe it was the oh-no-he’s-going-to-eat-me look on Serena’s face that drove him to do what he sensed she didn’t want him to do. But he was a prince, and that meant he could kiss his bride if he wanted to, and somehow he’d gotten himself tangled up in this rope, and by jimmy, she could just share his misery.

Cade put his lips against the startled princess’s. Like beating butterfly wings spreading apart, her mouth opened under his.

All Cade could think of when he felt her compliant surrender was that after all the years his mother had dragged him to church, he finally understood what King Solomon had been so excited about when he’d written his famous Song of Solomon.

As impossible as it seemed, as wrong as it should have been to touch the princess intended for his brother, kissing Serena Al Farid made Cade feel like a powerful and wealthy-beyond-measure king.

Serena Wilson-Al Farid was a treasure.

Chapter Four

“My spies tell me that the marriage is done,” Layla informed Azzam, “and the fact that we were not invited is insulting.”

“None were invited,” Azzam consoled her. “Put it from your mind.”

“I can’t.” Layla was festering inside. Azzam’s lack of concern for the situation distressed her to the point of pressing him. “Azzam, you trust Zak too much!”

Azzam shrugged. “I truly don’t have the thirst for intrigue that I once did.”

“I do,” she replied, her voice bitter. “The throne of Sorajhee is the only prize left to me in my old age and I would see the jewel polished more brightly.”

“You speak like a foolish old woman.”

Pride mixed with impatience stirred up a vicious cocktail inside Layla. “You would not speak so if you knew everything I have done to protect what is rightfully yours! How can you even speak of allowing Zakariyya to take it from you?”

Azzam’s eyes narrowed on her. “I doubt the wisdom in not exacting a punishment for your previous schemes. What have you done for me, besides be a choking bone in my throat with your constant demands for more power? More of everything? You wear me out, woman. No wonder I spend more time than ever in the comparative peace of my harem.”

Layla cloaked herself inside her robe, drawing the cloth tight against her body, a shield against his scorn. The beginning of hatred for her husband ate into her soul. What a blow to her pride that, after all the years she’d worked to make certain no Coleman-El Jeveds made a claim to the throne, one had apparently appeared like a bad dream from the past to do just that. She should have done more than convince Azzam to put Rose into a sanitarium and steal Rose’s one son away from her. She should have demanded to see the bodies of the three other Coleman-El Jeved princes when they were rumored to have died. But she’d been so certain that having Rose shut away would end any future threat to Azzam ascending to the throne. “I will take my leave of you now,” she said frostily as she bowed to Azzam. “If you will grant me so.”

He shrugged, losing interest in his petulant wife.

With that cool dismissal, Layla swept from the room. Fool not to see the danger under your very nose, Azzam!

But she did. And it was up to her to make certain that nothing stood in between her and the prize she coveted above all.

Balahar.

Fortunately, she had a few moves left to her. If the marriage was not consummated tonight, it would not be a legal and biding union. She had learned that the American was on his way to a neighboring country.

Between now and the time he departed, Serena’s new husband would find it very difficult to consummate the royal marriage.

She smiled to herself, and thanked Allah for inhibiting potions and loyal spies.

SERENA AND CADE sat beside each other at a table draped with a lavish cloth and more food than they could eat. A robed servant stood behind them, anticipating their dining needs. Cade ignored the tea the servant moved closer to his plate. He didn’t need tea, or food for that matter.

What he needed was to talk to Serena, and she hadn’t uttered more than two words to him so far. Did she plan to ignore him?

“Guess you’re not too crazy about being married to me,” he stated mildly.

“I am positive I could say the same about you.” She gave him a frank look that plainly said she was being restrained.

“I have to say you’re a relief,” Cade began, thinking to compliment the princess. “I was afraid you’d be…”

“Ugly?” Serena supplied.

He grinned. “Maybe on the unattractive side.”

“I am glad you do not find me so. I, on the other hand, thought you’d be a white and pasty American. I, too, find you a relief.”

Cade straightened. “You had to have known my family history. My father was Arab.”

“You are still darker than I expected.” Her eyes followed a trail of bare skin at his neck, and then skipped the covering of the robe to examine his hands. “And not the spoiled good-for-nothing playboy I was expecting. You have the hands of a man who works hard.”

“You watch too many American TV shows,” Cade said with a smile. The servant had moved the tea glass yet closer to his plate, and Cade pushed it away. “What other misconception can I clear up for you?”

“I have to be honest with you, Prince Makin,” Serena said, startling Cade with the subject of honesty and reminding him that he had a little truth he needed to share with her as well. “I dreamed of choosing a prince of my own, an Arabian of royal birth. I love it here in Balahar and would not wish to leave. I am far more Arab than I am American.”

“I’m far more American than I am Arab.” He thought about that. There was no way Mac was going to live in Balahar: he wouldn’t be happy here at all. Cade thought palace life would try his patience after more than a few days. “I think you’re going to end up living in America again, Princess.”

“I do not wish to leave my people.”

“You married me,” he said bluntly. “What did you expect?”

“Frankly, I expected you were marrying me to be in line for the throne.”

“Nope.” He pushed the goblet away for a final time, looking up at the servant. “Take the tea away. I do not want it.”

The servant jumped to remove the glass, his expression concerned. Cade couldn’t explain it, but something about the servant bothered him unreasonably. Maybe he was just tense from this princess problem. He turned his attention back full force to Serena. “I can tell you quite honestly that none of the Coleman males are interested in the Balahar throne.”

“Why do you say it that way?” Delicate chestnut eyebrows lifted with surprise.

“Just letting you know, Princess, in case you thought you’d married the wrong brother. We’re all the same on this subject.” It was the truth. Even if he weren’t masquerading as Mac, Cade would never be interested in this whole scenario.

Except maybe for the princess. He eyed her covertly over the food they both ignored. She was gorgeous and sexy, a hottie in gauzy fabric. But he couldn’t see her with Mac.

Uh-oh. I don’t even want to have this thought.

“Listen, princess—”

“Do you mind calling me by my name?” she asked. “Somehow, when you say princess, I’m pretty sure you’re not expressing a term of respect. I feel you could just as easily interchange babe, doll, or sweet cheeks for princess. And I don’t like it.”

She glared at him.

Caught by surprise, he hesitated before grinning widely.

“It’s your attitude,” she told him. “And your tone. I prefer you address me as Serena when we are alone together.”

“Anything else you want from me, Serena?”

“All I ask is that you always be honest with me. I didn’t expect a love match, but I would appreciate honesty and respect.”

“All right.” He tossed the napkin onto the table, unable to eat the strongly spiced food. “I did expect a pampered princess who would be mainly an ornament.”

“So sorry to disappoint you.” Her eyes blazed at him.

He drummed the table, causing the servant to jump to anticipate Cade’s needs. This put Cade into a worse mood, not the least because the tea he hadn’t wanted was replaced with something else—which he wouldn’t drink, either. “Can we ditch this guy? He’s like a jumpy puppy.”

The first hint of a smile he’d seen on Serena’s face came and went quickly—but it had been there. “I don’t mind.”

He waved a hand to dismiss the servant, who backed reluctantly from the room. “So, I’ll leave you here while I finish my business and then come back and get you sometime,” Cade offered.

“You do not intend to…to—”

“I don’t think so,” he interrupted. “It would be better if we didn’t.”

“But the marriage won’t be binding unless it’s consummated.”

“Do you want it to be binding?” He looked at her curiously.

“I—I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I don’t think we have much in common. Yet it would break my father’s heart.”

There was that. His mother would be none too pleased, either, especially when she discovered what he’d done.

“Don’t you want to make love to me?” she asked suddenly.

His throat dried out. His entire body electrified at her soft question. “I do, Princess,” he said, without a trace of the mockery with which he’d referred to her before. “But you want honesty, and you deserve that from your husband. And I can’t give that to you right now.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. Then he leaned close to her ear, which brought the scent of her to him fully and made him somehow regret what he had to tell her. “I’m not Prince Makin,” he said.

SERENA HELD BACK A SMILE, thinking this prince had a strange sense of humor. “Of course you are Prince Makin. My father would know if you were not.”

“I have a twin, who is Prince Makin. I am Prince Kadar.”

She raised an eyebrow. “If that is true, why are you lying to my father? To the people of Balahar?”

“I had no intention of marrying you when I came here,” he said. She sensed the honesty behind his striking words. “Everything happened quickly. There didn’t seem to be a good time to pull the reins in, actually. And once I realized that I’d agreed to marry you, I didn’t want to insult King Zak by saying that I’d changed my mind.”

“I see.” Serena tried to hold back her rising dismay. “No, I don’t see. So you didn’t marry me for the throne of Balahar.”

“No.”

He shook his head, and a vague sense of feminine insult, no matter how irrational it should have been, rose inside her. “Where is Prince Makin, your brother, then? The man I was intended to marry?”

“At home, tending to The Desert Rose.”

“You are his emissary. He sent you to spy on me.”

“No. Well, maybe. I had business over in Saudi Arabia and said I’d pop by and visit you. This wasn’t the way I intended for the visit to work out, obviously.”

“You’d pop by and visit me. How American that sounds.” She was starting to feel more than a trace of bitterness. “So you popped by and married me instead.”

One dark brow rose as he stared at her. “You have every right to be angry. I fully expect that we can have this marriage annulled because it won’t be consummated. Then you can marry my twin, who is your proper intended.”

“Or?” Now her brow rose. “I assume there’s an ‘or’ in this.”

He shrugged. “You could come home with me. I’m not flying commercially, and my co-pilot is waiting at the airport, so we’d have plenty of secrecy.”

“The purpose of coming with you would be?”

“Popping by and checking out Mac. Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.”

She refused to smile at his suggestion, although his tone suggested irony. “Prince Kadar, I am not a plaything.”

“I am not suggesting you are.” He leaned close to where she sat, touching her hair with a reverent finger. “Quite the opposite. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Both her brows rose in astonishment. “I find that difficult to believe from such a playboy.”

“I am not a playboy!”

“A man who ‘pops’ by a foreign country to check out the goods is obviously a connoisseur. Or else your brother wouldn’t have sent you,” she stated with conviction. “Besides, your very personality tells me that you are too confident that no matter what situation you find yourself in, you always find a way to turn it to your advantage.” She raised her chin. “I do not like that trait in you. You remind me of Prince Sharif.”

“I wouldn’t compare me to a spoiled prince.”

“Oh?” She smiled without the sentiment behind it. “You know so much about him then, in the thirty minutes you’ve seen him?”

“He reminds me of someone I know.” His voice was thoughtful. “And he doesn’t like me, I can tell.”

“How intuitive of my brother, then,” she said sarcastically. “To mistrust a man who is lying to him, marries his sister under false pretenses, and is no more a real prince than any commoner living outside these walls.”

“I am from the family I say I am,” Cade said sternly.

“It takes more than the accident of royal blood to make a prince,” Serena retorted. “Do not disparage my brother in the future. And don’t try to turn this particular situation to your advantage. I refuse to be manipulated for your purposes.” She crossed her arms. “Why should I not go to my father this instant and tell him what you’ve done?”

“Because I think you know that I mean you no harm. And I understand you being a little insulted that I don’t want to stay married to you, but you have to understand that my brother is—”

“I think I’ll keep you,” Serena said suddenly. “The punishment for your rash behavior should be to deal with your actions.”

“Hey, Princess, I’m not a child or one of your servants to command—”

“No, but you have wronged me. Do not play the injured party when it is me, Prince Kadar.” Serena could tell he didn’t like the tables being turned on him one bit, and that feeling of power provoked her into words. “You find me beautiful. I find you somewhat handsome.”

“Somewhat handsome!”

“Somewhat. Passably,” Serena said, glossing over the feminine fib. “I’m assuming I’d find your twin just as attractive, but he let you steal me away from him and I can’t admire that in a man.”

“Wait! I didn’t mean to steal you.”

“I am not in a mind to have my marriage annulled,” she cut in. “Already there are people who wish to see my father undermined, and such hesitation would definitely factor in weakness.”

“I don’t follow your thinking, Princess.”

“Of course you do not. You have not lived among palace spies and royal intrigue all your life. Quite simply, within moments of this problem getting out, those who wish harm to my father would know. And they would use the time needed to annul this marriage to their advantage. In other words, I can’t risk the danger to my father by playing games. You are married to me, and you will stay so.”

“That sounds dangerously like a command, Princess.”

She heard the steel in his voice and saw the glint in his eyes. This was a man who did not like to be pushed around. He had strength in him.

He would be good for Balahar and Sorajhee.

Allah provided in strange ways, but those ways should not be questioned by a princess who wanted more than anything the best for her people.

“It is not a command, my prince,” she said, her soft voice masking her determination. “It is merely a favor I am asking in return for a situation you brought on me not of my making. I know you to be a man who will take responsibility for your actions, and who would not wish to bring embarrassment upon me or my father.”

He considered her suddenly gentle point in silence. Serena could tell he was thinking over her words, although he wasn’t terribly happy.

“You will have to explain to your brother, of course, that the two of you made a plan between you that did not work out the way you’d hoped.” She gave a delicate shrug. “But if he sent you in his place I think he will not mind too much that I will be yours instead of his.”

That was truth. Kadar never blinked, confirming her suspicions that Prince Makin had not been amenable to the match. She did not want a husband who did not want her. At university in America, she had learned many quaint expressions, and one of them was that the devil one knew was better than a devil one didn’t.

And this devil wasn’t totally hellish. He would be strong for Balahar, and she found him appealing as a man. For an extra moment she examined her motives, to make certain it was not her feminine heart-strings that spoke to her reluctance to give up this man.

The servant entered the room, moving forward with more food and yet a different drink for Prince Kadar, and Serena was decided. “Leave us,” she told the servant.

The servant obeyed readily.

“Don’t drink that,” Serena told Kadar.

“Why not?”

She had expected him to question her. “It is drugged.”

His gaze went to the goblet again before returning to her. “Okay, first, were you going to let me drink the tea he’d given me before, and second, why are you harboring a palace spy?”

“You made no move to drink the tea, so you were safe. My father is trying to make his honored guest feel at home. He is honoring you, and you would drink and eat in recognition of your host’s efforts. The spy is counting on your manners for the best chance at drugging you.”

“Oh. I apologize for not falling in with the plan.”

She shot him a dry glance. “I am harboring, as you put it, a palace spy because it is better to keep the spy that I know. If I get rid of him, Queen Layla will merely find another weak link in the palace to do her dirty work. And I wouldn’t know who that one was for a while, which could be dangerous.”

“The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.” He grinned at her.

“Precisely my thought,” she said mildly. “I am glad that we think so much alike. It bodes well for our marriage.”

He shifted, suddenly on unfamiliar ground. “Why would anyone want to poison me, beyond the expected threat to the throne?”

She laughed softly at how tense his muscles had gone under his dark skin. Clearly this man did not like to be caught out of his element. “I suspect it is a drug to keep you from making love to me.”

Straightening, he pulled slightly farther away from her. “I’m not going to make love to you.”

“You’re not?” Her voice held laughter. “Will you never want me, Prince Kadar?”

“I…I—” He stared at her, uncertain as to how to answer. “Are they going to try to drug me every day so I can’t make love to you?”

“I suspect they know you are leaving Balahar soon. The servant will have immediately let them know any plans you might have mentioned to my father. In the future, you must remember that every wall hides a listening ear and absolutely no one is to be trusted.”

“Hell of a way to exist,” he grumbled.

“You seem to be able to think on your feet. You can survive once you learn some basic skills of royal life.” She smiled at him encouragingly. “To get back to the dilemma we are facing, if you can’t perform your princely duty before you leave,” Serena said with a smile, “the marriage has a chance of being undone. It can be annulled. Queen Layla would have a chance to think of a hundred reasons why this marriage should not be. Maybe a thousand reasons, given the insult she will be feeling for not being invited to the wedding. As I said, it is not in Balahar’s best interests for anything to undo our marriage. Thus, we must make love.”

She saw him take a deep breath, saw his eyes slide over her in a swift, assessing sweep. From the darkening of his pupils, there apparently was nothing he found repulsive about the task ahead of him.

“You think faster on your feet than I do. You’ll have to give me a minute to think this through. I don’t know that I can make love to a woman intended for my brother. My mind still thinks of you that way.”

She leaned close to him, near enough to tease him with her perfume and her femininity. “Prince Kadar, your brother did not want me.”

“He didn’t have a chance to find out.”

“The race goes to the swiftest,” she said, placing her fingers lightly over his hand. “In this case, the crown, with all its benefits and drawbacks, goes to the fastest warrior. That would be you, Prince Kadar.”

“Only because Mac—”

“You are my choice,” she told him sincerely. “His arranged marriage is now yours.”

She admired his consideration for his brother, Serena decided. He put other people’s needs and wishes in front of his own. That was a quality a strong ruler needed. This was the right prince for Balahar.

“Prince Kadar, I promise you will not find me a clinging wife. I am an independent woman. You will not need to keep me entertained, nor treat me like the pampered lapdog you seem to have expected. I am a woman who wishes to put the country she loves first.” She took a deep breath, knowing that Kadar’s answer meant everything to her. “So, my husband, do you find me desirable enough to make love to me?”

Chapter Five

Cade’s throat dried out as he stared at Serena. Was she kidding? Making love to her would be a dream come true; he could feel desire heating through him just by being this close to her.

He’d made love to enough women to know that loving Serena would be soul-claiming pleasure. He also knew that holding her and being one with her would be like nothing he’d known before.

It wasn’t simply because she was his wife. Nor was it because she offered herself to him so sweetly and yet so forthrightly.

Serena was like no other woman he’d ever met—and it had nothing to do with her lineage. This woman would have stirred him if he’d met her in the meanest hut in the world.

She fascinated him.

“I would honestly enjoy making love to you,” he said, his voice hoarse in a choked whisper he couldn’t quite control. “Make no mistake about that.”

Her eyes drew him in as she waited for him to speak. What could he say? There was no “but,” no qualifier on the truth. He wanted to pull that flowing gauzy stuff off her slowly. Discovering her mysteries was as tantalizing as the thought of swirling through the veils of Arabian Nights, enjoying her one layer at a time.

He hadn’t come to Balahar for a wife. Yet she was his wife. He was her husband.

He could search the entire earth and never find another woman like her.

But he could lose her.

“Call the spy back in here,” he said suddenly.

She looked at him for a moment. He picked up the goblet and poured the liquid inside it into a nearby planter. Then he took her goblet and put the contents inside his.

“Shadi,” she called loudly, her gaze on Kadar.

The servant entered a moment later.

“We are finished,” she told him.

“Not quite, my princess,” Cade said with a flourish. He lifted the goblet in a toast so that the servant could see—and then he drained it. “As delicious as your lips,” he said airily.

Serena rolled her eyes, but since the servant stood obsequiously behind her chair, he could not see. Cade grinned to himself before yawning hugely. “I think I’ll return to my room to shower,” he said. “I will come to your room later.”

Serena stood. “As you wish, my prince. Shadi will show you to your rooms.”

“Great. I’m worn-out as an old hound dog,” he said in his most exaggerated Texas accent.

The servant’s expression was triumphant. Cade yawned again. The servant bowed, leading the way for him. “Bye, Princess,” Cade said in an annoying voice. “Wait up for me.”

Serena whirled on her low-heeled feet and fled the room. Cade smirked. “I’m following the yellow brick road, Shadi, unless you’ve got a magic carpet for me.”

Shadi hurried down the hall into a long corridor. Cade strolled behind him leisurely. “Sure am tired after all the excitement, Shadi.”

The servant barely glanced over his shoulder at Cade. Finally Shadi passed through an arch into a large room hung with heavy drapes and filled with furnishings fit for a prince. Cade threw himself down onto the bed, his body limp.

Silence told him Shadi was observing his position, making certain he was asleep. Cade didn’t move a muscle.

After a moment, he heard the whispery sound of the servant disappearing from the room. Waiting another few minutes for good measure, Cade finally lifted himself off the bed.

“Prince Kadar,” a voice said outside the open window of his room.

“Serena.” He levered himself out of the window to stand beside her.

“You fake the effects of sleeping potion badly. Fortunately, Shadi seemed to buy your act.”

He grinned at her. “I’d do anything to impress you, Princess.”

“What was the need of pretending to drink the potion?”

“You said it was better to know who the spy was. He believes he has executed his task, and will rush back to let his commander know what a good soldier he is. In the meantime, you and I will head to my private jet and take off for Texas. It won’t be the honeymoon you might have wanted, but under the circumstances, I think it’s for the best. Let’s get going before we’re discovered.”

She balked for an instant. “I must say goodbye to Father, and Prince Sharif.”

“We can’t risk it. The spy will know soon enough that the potion didn’t work to his satisfaction.”

“You are, of course, correct,” Serena whispered unhappily. “If you are certain—”

“I believe it’s the only way, Princess. With you faraway and safe at The Desert Rose, you are out of reach of spies and potions. We’ll have time to get to know each other.”

“You are not wishing to make love to me so fast?”

“I want to make love to you. But marriage is based on more than sex. And I don’t like jumping around like a puppet because Princess Lana’s pulling my strings.”

“Queen Layla.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “The who doesn’t matter. The what does, and the ‘what’ happens to be this marriage. I’ll do what I want on my terms.”

“You are not like other men,” Serena said quietly. “And so I trust you. I will go with you, because I can tell you are doing what you believe to be right. Such a man makes the right decisions for many people.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Let’s go,” she said, putting on a black silk scarf that concealed all but her eyes. Her black Jilba disguised the rest of her. “I’m anxious to see this Texas that makes such strong men.”

IF ROSE COLEMAN WAS SURPRISED that the wrong son came home with Princess Serena, she was too experienced at hiding her emotions to show it. She came forward to greet the princess with a hug. “Welcome to Texas, and to The Desert Rose, Princess Serena.”

“Thank you.” Serena smiled shyly at her new mother-in-law. “Texas seems as hot as Balahar.”

Rose smiled. “The late summer months will be far closer to what you are used to. We will make you comfortable at The Desert Rose, though it isn’t quite the palace.”

“I have a feeling I will like this as well.” Serena meant to be polite, but something told her she would like being away from palace intrigue—and also like finding out more about her new husband’s way of life.

“No spies here.” Rose smiled at her.

“I don’t want to be royalty while I am in your home. I don’t wish to be treated like a princess,” Serena said earnestly. “I want to help, and do the same things you do.” She sent a glance to the half apron Rose wore. By no means could Rose be considered homely, though she was considerably more careworn than one might expect royalty to be. She had a graceful way about her, as well as delicate speech. Her demeanor was refined and yet not stiff in any way.

Serena had seen many photos of the late Princess Grace of Monaco. She had never met anyone who reminded her more of Grace than Rose. If some of the cares were worn away from Rose, Serena suspected she would be as gently lovely as Princess Grace had been as she’d grown older.

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