Desert Sheikh vs American Princess (24 page)

Walid scanned the crowd. She watched his attention settle on one guy, a man in his forties with the shoulder muscles of a construction worker.

"Him," Walid said. "He will go."

"Nope. I've already picked. Salima?" She called for the girl, who stepped out from behind a 4x4 and dropped a pretty decent curtsey to her king.

Salima was a tiny thing, a wiry fourteen-year-old with dark skin that came partly from her genetics and partly from spending her days exposed to constant sun. Sun that had begun to sink, throwing a red glow over the scene.

 
The faded denim skirt that fell to Salima's ankles would have hung loose around her flat belly if she hadn't cinched it with a thick belt that looked like it would give way at any second. The enormous man's shirt she wore blew in the slight breeze.

"Salima's going to climb for us," she told Walid.

His objections telegraphed straight into her mind.
She's too young. The older man has already lived much of his life and if he falls, it is less guilt. He has more experience and is less likely to fall in any case. You have only picked this inappropriate person because she's a woman and you cannot climb yourself.

No one climbs this tree,
she shot back mutely.
It's sacred. The person who does it will be respected in this community for the rest of her life. Salima is an orphan who is rejected and bullied by the other factory workers, and this is a chance to make her life better. And yes, she's female and young and I can't go up.

They both knew he could overrule her if he chose. He was king, and she couldn't argue with him in front of his people if he decided to assert himself. She was betting it was on the tip of his tongue to enforce his will.

A foot away, Salima was still curtseying, waiting for her ruler to give her the nod to stand up.

Noelle could practically hear Walid's teeth grinding. They were still gritted when he spoke again. "Very well."

When Salima rose, she wore the brightest smile Noelle had ever seen. Without hesitation, as if she was terrified
someone
would change his mind, she sprinted to the base of the tree, tucked the hem of her skirt into that questionable belt to reveal muscled calves, and was ten feet up the tree before Noelle could tell her they'd do the climb in the morning.

"Uh, okay," she said, to the girl's fast-disappearing butt.

That could be us
.

It really couldn't be
, Noelle told her friend.

"Is all of this your pirate princess' idea?" Walid glanced up at the tiny girl climbing the tree, then away. In case someone thought he was admiring what he saw, she imagined.

Was it?
"I guess so."

Walid stepped away from the crowd gathered at the base of the palm. These were his people, she realized, but as their king, he had to maintain a certain distance.

She felt herself being drawn away, toward him. Salima would be back down after her search. Nothing Noelle could do would bring her down faster. Besides, the pull toward Walid wasn't something she could resist. She moved over to walk beside him in relative privacy.

"You could have come to me," he told her. "I would have arranged all this for you. You did not have to sneak out of my palace behind my back."

"I did come to you. To your office, three days ago. Ring a bell?"

A muscle in his face twitched. "I do recall. Something interrupted us before I asked why you had come to see me."

You arranging your marriage
, she didn't say. "How did you know I came here? I can't believe one of Suzette's relatives told you."

Walid's jaw clenched for a moment. With anyone else, she would have thought he was trying to decide on a lie. "I appear to have a mental link to you. Whenever you leave a certain perimeter around me, I feel it with some sort of sixth sense that forces me to follow you. No one told me where you were. I simply understood it."

She rolled her eyes at him. "If you're trying to practice lying, keep at it. That really sucked."

They walked for a few steps in silence. The sunset was amazing in the desert. No clouds to get in the way. A full canvas of sky painted with deep crimsons and oranges so brilliant Noelle hardly believed she was seeing them, all on a backdrop of crystal blue deepening to darkest midnight.

"I regret that you met the Farouks that way." Walid didn't look at her. "That was not my intention. I do not know that I had any intention."

"Why are you marrying her? She said it was for money. Is that true?"

He didn't answer. As good as an admission of guilt.

"You kidnapped me for money. You sold your cars for money. You're marrying her for money. Why do you need money so badly?"

"Noelle, this is not your problem. Try not to worry about it."

"Yeah," she said. "Okay."

But inside, she held back a grin. Money wasn't going to be a problem for him anymore. Without a computer, she'd been unable to do any research, but she'd asked Suzette, who had set one of her nephews on the task. On the trip here, he'd handed her a dozen or so pages folded together. All about green diamonds, including a black-and-white photo of the Palm from before the war.

It had been worth an estimated twenty-five million dollars when it disappeared. Now, inflation would have doubled that at least, plus spending nearly seventy years in a tree, a lost legend, would make it one of the most valuable jewels on the planet.

Shame to sell the diamond, but she had faith that Walid wouldn't even think of it, unless the future of the country depended on the money.

And then Walid could un-plan his engagement with Kalilah.

"Have you heard from my dad at all?" she asked him, knowing the answer. "That wire transfer come through?"

"I am afraid not. But you will soon be free to go, one way or another."

Yup, she would be. She nearly giggled.

"When I become engaged to Kalilah, I will see that you get on a plane to the United States."

"Sure, sure," she agreed. "Sounds fine. When I get back I'll see if I can get you your money from dad. But don't hold your breath. He doesn't pay much attention to me."

"What else will you do when you return?"

"Good question. The same stuff, I suppose." Although she would be famous for finding Askar's crown jewel. If she could ask a decent amount of money for interviews, she could get a little nest egg that could help her get out from under her dad's control. Maybe. Or maybe she could get a book deal about her experiences in Askar. Sure, she'd have to fib about her real relationship with Walid and the circumstances around how she got here, but she could just make it up. Wouldn't be that hard. Anyone could write this stuff, after all.

She snuck a peek at Walid, walking beside her. She wasn't any less obsessed with his ass than she'd been before they'd slept together. Maybe more so.

But she'd gotten to know him over the past weeks, too. She cared for him, she had to admit to herself. She wanted him to be happy, and Kalilah was not going to do it. She hoped he recognized that, at least.

He needed someone who was a match for him, who wouldn't put up with his shit. Someone as smart as him, who could challenge his thinking, but who had an emotional touch to her, who could help him open up a bit. Maybe even get him to ask for help every once in a while.

Someone who could get him to be a bit goofy every once in a while.

Something caught in her throat. A speck of dust.

The woman she wanted for him was like herself, except... better. Better in every way. Noelle could handle herself in his world, but he needed someone who could help him by being effective on her own, not someone who failed at everything she tried.

They'd been so good together in bed. They'd driven away each other's darkness, made a space to let in happiness and fun. Just because it hadn't been serious didn't mean it hadn't been
serious
. Did he get that? Probably not.

If only she didn't suck so much at, well, life. If she thought she was even slightly worthy of him, she would grab on to him like a facehugger from
Alien
and never let him go.

The idea of him taking Kalilah to bed, or any other woman, made her muscles tense, made her want to bitch-slap the chick like a demented housewife on a reality show.

His stubbled profile caught her eye.
Mine
, she wanted to say to any woman who thought she could come near him.
Mine mine mine
.

She swallowed past a mountain of a lump in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest to keep her hands safely held down. She cared about him, wanted him, admired everything he'd accomplished with Askar. His dedication to his people. His determination. His wisdom--except when it came to Kalilah.

Noelle wasn't worthy of him, though. She hadn't been able to finish school, to get a job, or accomplish anything. She wasn't the girl he needed, even if she'd been, for one night, the girl he wanted.

"Noelle," he said, his voice tinged with pain--

And a cry soared up from the base of the tree.

They turned to each other. "Salima," Noelle said, and she took off running.

He must have kept up, because when she arrived, pushing her way through the crowd, he was right behind her.

The young woman was three-quarters of the way down the tree. Around her chest was a stained fabric sling, the kind that might hold a dozen date fronds.

The sling looked empty. Or like it held only one thing.

The treasure, Bonnie. She's got it
, Noelle thought at her friend.

But the pirate princess didn't answer. Didn't even seem interested.

Salima scrambled down, the push of people around her clearing a little space for her to step into.

But when the young woman turned, Noelle's heart clenched. Salima had her bottom lip between her teeth.

It's a trick
, she assured herself.
She's pretending she didn't find the jewel, and then she's going to pull it out and everything will be fine.

Noelle stepped up to Salima, Walid right behind. Suzette shoved her way through the people to stand at Noelle's shoulder and act as translator.

But Noelle didn't need to ask anything. Salima's bitten lip and deeply terrified expression said everything she needed to know.

"Noelle." Walid's voice was filled with a warm blanket of concern. She shrugged it off.

"Salima, you are awesome." Had she put the right amount of enthusiasm in her tone or was she laying it on too thick? She couldn't tell if it was too much, if she was pushing too far past her own failure. "Okay, so we didn't find the jewel. But you just climbed the tallest palm in Askar. I think that makes you the best date harvester in the whole country."

As Noelle spoke, Suzette repeated her words, but in Arabic, and in her gruff monotone. Noelle could tell when each one sank in. Salima stood an inch taller by the end of each sentence. Her tightness uncoiled, her chest puffed.

This was the best day of this young girl's life. The opposite of Noelle's.

"I can't thank you enough, Salima. You did a fantastic job."

Walid followed her praise with some words of his own, in Arabic. A question, apparently, since the girl spoke in response, blushing and stammering.

Then Walid addressed the crowd, telling them something she couldn't understand. After that, the people cut out, slowly, in little clusters, burbling to each other in excitement.

"I have informed them I will meet with the town elders shortly," Walid told her. "I am here, and the opportunity is convenient. It will be too late to go back to Deira tonight. We will stay here."

"Stay where?" She hadn't seen a hotel on the way into town. Would people take them into their homes?

Walid nodded over his shoulder.

She looked, and incredibly, a small village of tents had popped up. One of them was as big as the coffee shop she went to in San Fran. Suzette's relatives made themselves busy, pulling pillows and rugs from trunks that looked way too small to actually hold so much stuff.

Suzette herself was presiding over a decent-sized fire, directing a scared young man who probably had his arms covered in flour for the first time in his life. The cook looked over her shoulder and scowled at two middle-aged guys who seemed to be doing nothing but chatting to each other. They instantly walked off in two different directions, full of purpose.

A camp had sprung up around them. Noelle tried to focus her attention on the tasks going on to distract herself from yet another failure. It was fascinating, the modern incarnation of a nomadic culture. Instead of camels, Toyotas; instead of navigation by the stars, GPS on cell phones. But the effect was the same--the camp didn't look like some temporary overnight place. It looked like a cozy home. Just one that moved around a lot.

It had all happened because of her. Because of her stupid idea that she could find the stupid jewel.

She'd sent an underage kid scrambling up a palm tree, for God's sake. Salima could have died. Of course she was a hero now, but that was beside the point. If she'd fallen, it would have been a ridiculous waste of life because one stupid white chick thought she knew better than people who'd lived in Askar forever.