Susan Mallery - The Prince & the Pregnant Princess Read online

  “She must be relieved to know she has your blessing. I know the uncertainty of getting it was keeping her up nights.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Even now you defy me. Why do you play a game you can’t win?”

  “I’m not interested enough to play with you anymore. As for winning—it wasn’t very interesting when I won last time.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I was the victor.”

  He had been, too. He’d seduced her in a heartbeat and had left her begging for more. Not that she was going to admit that to him. “Whatever. I really don’t remember.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. Had she been one of the king’s pet cats, she would have purred.

  “Your mouth tells lies, but I see the truth in your eyes. The passion is as it always was between us. Your attempts to resist me will only make us both more hungry.”

  “You managed to forget about me for the four months I was gone, Sadik. The fact that you’re paying attention to me now simply means that I’ve turned up on your radar. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that isn’t the least bit flattering—nor am I interested.”

  She had more to say, but at that moment she was saved by the bell…literally. The head butler rang a gong that announced it was time for dinner. Cleo took the opportunity to duck away from Sadik before he could trap her with him.

  How could she have blurted that out to him? If he had a single, functioning brain cell—and she happened to know he had more than the average working guy—he would figure out that her feelings were hurt by the fact that he’d let her go and hadn’t once bothered to get in touch with her. She didn’t want him thinking that he mattered. She didn’t want him thinking about her at all. He already had too much power over her sexually. The last thing she needed was him using her fragile emotions against her, too.

  She walked into the main dining room and had a moment of panic at the thought that they might be seated next to each other. Several long tables filled the smaller of the formal dining rooms in the palace. Cleo found her name on the seating chart, then drew in a relieved breath when she saw the seats next to her were already taken. Rafe sat on her right, which meant Zara was next to him. A least she would be close to a semi-family member. On her left was a man she didn’t know, but he seemed friendly enough when he greeted her and held out her chair.

  “Jonathan Grant,” he said easily, holding out his hand.

  “Cleo Wilson,” she said, and settled in her chair. Rafe turned and gave her a wink before returning his attention to Zara.

  Cleo took a moment to glance around the room. During her first stay in the palace, she’d explored several of the public rooms. She’d even almost begun to understand the floor plan. This particular dining room was used for smaller formal events. The wall tapestries dated back to the fifteenth century and showed the various explorers who had made their way to Bahania. Four marble statues stood in the corners. At the far end of the room was a raised dais for a small orchestra. Several crystal chandeliers provided light.

  Everything glittered, especially the well-dressed people. How happy they must be that the king agreed to keep his cats out of the room on evenings such as these.

  “What’s so funny?” Jonathan asked.

  He was an attractive man in his late forties. Cleo picked up her water glass. “I was thinking that a couple of loose cats could do a lot of damage with their shedding in this group.”

  Jonathan grinned. “I’m still picking off hairs from my last visit here. Black suit, white cat. I swear I heard her laughing as she rubbed against me.”

  Cleo chuckled at the image. As she did so, she felt something intense, as if…

  She raised her head. Sadik might not be next to her, but he was across from her.

  The table was wide enough to keep them from talking easily, but that didn’t matter. It was enough to know he was there. There and watching her. She deliberately turned back to her seatmate.

  “What business brings you to Bahania?” she asked.

  Jonathan looked faintly surprised at the question. “I’m the American ambassador.”

  Heat instantly flared on her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under the table.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t actually live in Bahania and, well…” Her voice trailed off. Did it matter that she didn’t live here? Her circle of friends had never included an ambassador.

  “I should have done a better job of introducing myself,” he said easily. “As your sister is Princess Zara, I assumed you would have been told about me.”

  So he knew who she was. Figures. Life could be annoyingly unfair. “So far Zara and I have pretty much talked about the wedding. You know—girl stuff.”

  “I have three daughters so I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

  The fact that he had children made her able to put aside her faux pas. As dinner was served, she found herself chatting easily with Jonathan. He explained that his wife had returned home to the States to get their oldest settled at college and visit family.

  All through the various courses Cleo did her best to ignore Sadik’s watchful gaze. He was polite enough to converse with the women on either side of him, but she would have bet he barely heard what they were saying. He was too busy glaring at her.

  When the dessert plates had been cleared away, the waiters brought out trays of open champagne bottles. The bubbly liquid was served, and King Hassan rose to toast his daughter.

  Cleo joined in the applause and, at the appropriate time, raised her glass to her lips but was careful not to swallow. Conflicting emotions swelled up inside of her. She was deeply happy for her sister. Zara deserved all her joy. But the knowledge that things would never be the same between them made Cleo feel hollow inside.

  The king ended the meal by inviting everyone to dance in the main ballroom. As Cleo pushed back her seat, she could already hear the strains of music. But with her heavy heart and suddenly unsettled stomach, what she wanted more than anything was to hurry back to her room for a quiet pity party and a good movie.

  She nearly made it to the far door before she was caught.

  “The American ambassador is happily married.”

  Cleo spun toward Sadik. “Number one, stop sneaking up on me. It’s annoying.

  Number two, I know all about Jonathan’s wife and his daughters. We had a lovely time chatting together and don’t you dare turn it into something sleazy.”

  His dark eyes were unreadable. A muscle twitched in his jaw. She half expected him to throw her over his shoulder and spirit her away. A part of her would have welcomed being in his bed, regardless of the price. Fortunately, all he did was lead her toward the ballroom, then pull her into his arms for a dance.

  They moved without speaking. Cleo let herself relax to the rhythm of the music.

  Maybe it was madness, but being with Sadik felt like coming home.

  Despite the height difference, they danced well together. She easily anticipated his moves. The heat from his body made her feel safe.

  Safe, she thought sadly. There was a unique concept. She might be many things with the prince, but the least of them was safe.

  “You should go bother a skinny, tall brunette and leave me alone,” she grumbled.

  “You should stop talking. You’re spoiling our moment together.”

  “Is that what we’re having?”

  “Yes. And you’re enjoying it. Besides, I want no other woman but you.”

  His words sank down to her heart, ripping away protective layers of common sense. She knew he was only talking about sex, but she couldn’t help wishing…wanting…something more. Sadik held her close enough that she could feel the call of his body. She took the half step closer, nestling herself against him. His only response was to sigh softly.

  For a time, with her pregnancy, her breasts had been extremely tender. That symptom had faded so she could now enjoy the sensation of pressing close to his hard chest. Against her will, memories flooded her as she remem
bered what it had been like to be with him. She recalled the way he’d touched her everywhere.

  Slowly, almost worshiping her body. He’d made her feel physically perfect.

  Cleo closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the past and the pain it brought.

  If it was only sex, she could find the will to resist. But she and Sadik had shared so much more. When they had satiated themselves after an hour or two, they had talked. First of inconsequential matters, but eventually they had shared the details of their past. She’d heard about the lonely child growing up in a world of wealth and privilege, ignored by his parents and raised by a nanny, then a tutor. She’d glossed over the first ten years of her life but had told him about going to live with Zara and her mother.

  She had allowed herself to believe that she’d gotten past the arrogant shell to the actual man beneath. She’d told herself that she mattered to him. She’d been wrong on both counts.

  “Come to me tonight,” he breathed in her ear. “We can rediscover paradise together.”

  Cleo was so tempted she nearly fainted. Knowing that he wanted her made her long to give in. Apparently being around Sadik still made her forget all that was important. She took a half second to try to convince herself that it was okay to be weak and spineless, then she remembered what was at stake.

  She did her best to look bored as she raised her gaze to his. “I’m seriously flattered, but I’d rather not. You’re a great guy, Sadik, really. But the thing is, I’ve met someone else. We hooked up shortly after I returned to Spokane.”

  Sadik raised dark eyebrows. “You have another man in your life? What is his name?”

  Her mind went completely blank. Ah…a name. Any name. “Rick. He’s in plumbing.”

  Internally she winced. “He’s fabulous. We met and it was love at first sight.

  Really. Right there in front of my kitchen sink.” She widened her eyes, hoping for a look of sincerity.

  Sadik did not look convinced. “Your sister hasn’t mentioned this Rick person.”

  “I didn’t say anything to her. Zara is so caught up in the wedding and everything. I didn’t want to distract her.” Cleo swallowed. She’d never been a very good liar. Maybe she should have practiced more.

  “So it’s serious with you and this Rick?”

  “Uh-huh. We’re practically engaged.”

  Sadik threw back his head and began to laugh. Cleo wanted to stomp her foot…preferably grinding her heel into his instep.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny,” she hissed. “You wanted me. The possibility exists that one other man on the planet might feel the same way.”

  He stopped laughing and pulled her hard against him. “I do not doubt your charms, Cleo, merely your story. While you are desirable and could have many suitors, you could not be with another man after being with me.”

  He spoke with a confidence that made her want to box his ears.

  “You make me crazy,” she told him as she pulled free of his embrace. “You also have a very high opinion of yourself. Frankly this conversation bores me.”

  At least they were on the edge of the dance floor, she thought gratefully as she stalked away. Sadik didn’t follow her, but then he hardly had to worry about where she was going to go. The single choice was back to her room. For the forty-seventh time that day, tears filled her eyes. As if throwing up wasn’t enough, she’d turned into a faucet. Nothing about this situation was fair.

  What made it worse was Sadik had been correct. There was no way she could be with another man after being with him. Somehow she’d bonded herself with him until no other man could possibly matter.

  But he only cared about her attentions as some sort of game. He wanted her in his bed, yet not in his life. Cleo hated that. She also didn’t want to explore what she wanted, because she had a bad felling that the truth would terrify her.

  Wishing for the moon was a steep, slick road to heartache. The problem was, she could already feel herself starting to slip.

  Chapter 4

  Cleo eyed the long tables laden with wrapped presents. Each gift looked beautiful enough to be in a display window, and accompanying each was a letter, a blank form and pages of documentation.

  “I’m going to bet there’s not a blender in the bunch,” she murmured.

  Zara carried the first package over to the only empty table. Several chairs had been pulled up around it, along with a stack of file folders.

  “If you think this is bad, you should go check out the other gift room. It has the official gifts offered by various governments and heads of state. I’m not even allowed to open those. Apparently, there’s an entire protocol staff to see to them. However, after a series of lectures, they finally trusted me to open and log in the private gifts.” She smiled at Cleo. “Still want to help?”

  “Sure. But first I want to know the difference between ‘official’ and ‘private’ gifts.”

  Zara handed her the blank form. “You need to be filling this out while I open.

  When you get bored, we’ll trade. As to the difference, I’m not sure. It’s how they’re sent or something. I’m just hoping no one gives us a pair of elephants.”

  Cleo started to laugh. “You’re not talking about matching statuary, are you?”

  “Nope. The king keeps swearing it’s a time-honored gift to a marrying couple.

  Something about fertility or long life, or maybe both. I could handle a small dog or a bird, but I don’t want to be responsible for any elephants.”

  Cleo reached for the paperwork. “This one is from a former U.S. president.” She started writing on the form, filling in the spaces for who the gift was from and the date opened.

  Zara wrestled with the box. “It’s heavy,” she said, tearing off wrapping paper.

  Cleo watched her, again thinking how different their lives had become. Although while she might envy Zara her relationship with Rafe, she couldn’t envy her her princess status. Cleo didn’t think she could handle being a part of the royal family.

  Don’t think about that, she told herself. Just one more on a long list of things she couldn’t think about. Like the fact that last night she’d nearly given in to Sadik, and that while he still wanted her in his bed, he had no interest in her as a person.

  “This works,” Zara said as she pulled the top off the large white box, then withdrew a stunning crystal bowl. The elegant piece glittered in the daylight like a massive diamond.

  “Ohh, I’m going to have to borrow that one,” Sabrina said, as she breezed into the gift room. “Am I too late? Did I miss the elephants?”

  Zara laughed and turned to greet her half sister. “No elephants. I’m trying to convince myself there aren’t going to be any.”

  The two women hugged, then Sabrina turned to Cleo. “I’m so glad you’re back,”

  she said, hurrying over and hugging Cleo, as well. “Your last stay was far too short. You must stay longer this time.”

  Cleo nodded because she couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened as she stared at the two women. Both tall, slender brunettes with the same wide eyes and smiling mouths. Anyone looking at them would know they were sisters.

  Sabrina took the bowl and held it up to the light. “Seriously, this is gorgeous.

  And I happen to know they make matching wineglasses.”

  Zara laughed. “I thought I’d just steal yours.”

  Cleo smiled, but her heart felt heavy. Obviously, in the past four months Sabrina and Zara had become close. It was bound to happen. Although they’d just met, they were in fact related by blood. They were both princesses, and Zara was marrying Sabrina’s husband’s second in command. They would be living in the fabled City of Thieves, several hundred miles from the Bahanian capital.

  Sabrina set down the bowl, then pulled up a chair next to Cleo and grabbed the clipboard. “I can’t believe she’s put you to work already. So like her.”

  “Hey, I torment my baby sister whenever I can.” Zara winked at Cleo.

 
Sabrina sighed. “I wish I’d grown up with a sister. I envy you two that.”

  Cleo looked at Zara and Sabrina. Not only did they look alike, but they were dressed alike in expensive slacks and silk blouses. Cleo wore a loose cotton dress she should have tossed out the previous summer. “You’re the sisters. I’m just someone Zara’s mother took in. Not a relative at all.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “You’re sisters in the truest sense of the word, and I’ll admit to wanting to be a part of that.” Her expression turned serious.

  “Cleo, I hope that we can all be close. I’d really like that.”

  While Cleo was touched by her sincerity, she also felt a little uncomfortable.

  “This is where I remind you I’m the only nonprincess in the group.”

  Sabrina playfully bumped her shoulder. “Maybe we can change that. I saw you dancing with a certain prince last night. Things looked intense.”

  Cleo could feel heat flaring on her cheeks. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s so not going to happen. I’m not in the market for an arrogant prince, no matter how handsome he might be.”

  “Oh. So you think he’s handsome.”

  Cleo pressed her lips together. Trapped by her own stupid words. “He’s okay.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure.” Sabrina laughed. “Zara, we might have to do a little matchmaking with this one.”

  Cleo thought about how Sadik was so hot to get her into bed now but hadn’t once bothered to get in touch with her after she’d left. In four months there hadn’t been a word from him.

  “No matchmaking for me. Like I said, arrogant princes aren’t my style.”

  “Too bad.”

  Sabrina scribbled a few notes about the bowl, then helped Zara collect the wrapping paper and throw it in a trash container at the side of the table. The bowl, along with the letter and the paperwork, went onto a display table. Zara brought over another box.

  Sabrina studied the accompanying letter. “This one is from the crown prince of Lucia-Serrat. It’s an island in the Indian Ocean. The crown prince of the island is a cousin of the king of Bahania.” She waved a hand. “Don’t ask, it’s complicated. But this guy is good-looking and a widower with four sons.” She glanced at Cleo. “He needs a wife.”