Desert Sheikh vs American Princess (34 page)

The green shine that emerged could not be mistaken. The Palm of Askar, at last. He had never thought to see the emerald depths of the unique green diamond in his lifetime.

What had been lost was now found. The Palm could be sacrificed to save the people of Askar. The future that Noelle had restored to him was complete. So long as it had her in it.

She placed the crown on his head, and he barely felt the weight of it.

As he stood, the others in the room sank to their knees. Everyone but his brothers, of course. And Gwendolyn, who looked a little pink in the cheeks. "I would kneel, really. I just wouldn't be able to get up again."

"I would have the same issue," mentioned Thalatha, leaning against the wall. "But congratulations and all that."

He looked down at Noelle. "I believe that no one who has seen the king naked is required to kneel."

To his surprise, not only did Noelle rise, but his cook did as well.

The formidable woman shrugged. "My mother was your wet nurse. I changed Your Majesty's diapers."

He began to feel the weight of the crown as his other subjects stood. It had been more than he had ever hoped for. Not only the jewel, but the crown as well. The crown that had rested on the heads of dozens of generations of Askari royalty. History itself sat on his brow.

"Do not get used to seeing it," he told them. "The Palm will be sold to discharge Askar's debts."

"Sell it?" Gwendolyn gasped. "No, you can't do that."

"The King of Askar may do as he pleases," said her husband.

He felt Noelle slip her hand into his own, and squeeze it in support of him. "The whole reason I wanted to find the Palm was so you buy your way out of your problems, but now... I don't think you should, Your Majesty. It belongs to Askar. And you know you'll feel guilty about it. Maybe forever."

She was correct. He would be known as the ruler who ruled when the Palm was restored. But more importantly, he would be remembered as the ruler who sold it at auction.

The crown's value was untold. No one would be able to estimate what it would fetch. Certainly the crown would pay for the pipeline. And much, much more.

In the end, the jewel was a shiny trinket. What mattered were the people who would benefit from its sale. As for guilt, he refused to give in to it. He would no longer make himself suffer for his father's choices.

"Perhaps Askar needs to put its past behind it," he told them all. "We have long looked to our history, when Sadad and Zallaq belonged to Askar, and seen those as our days of glory. We have looked to figures such as Inaya Al Hurra to save us."

He removed the crown from his head. Without it, he felt much lighter, freer. "Now we will use our past to create a new future, and new days of glory. And we will create new heroines for ourselves."

"And heroes," Noelle added.
 

"Once, I was supposed to reunite the Heart of Zallaq, the Eye of Sadad, and the Palm of Askar." The three legendary crown jewels that had been separated would now remain so. Perhaps forever. "I will be judged for selling the Palm. But those who judge me will have better lives because of the action. I will pursue the course I have decided upon." He raised her hand to his lips and planted a kiss.

"At least we got it back." Noelle frowned at the jewel.

"Love," he said, "we are doing what is best for Askar. Someone once taught me how useless it is to feel guilty about such actions. So we will do what we feel is right, and not dwell in regret about it."

Her lovely smile spread across her face. "Sounds good. I'm in."

"I hope you, and your pirate princess, intend to be in for life."

"Aye," she said, and kissed him.

Epilogue

"I
CERTAINLY
HOPE
no one will burst through those doors and shout 'Stop the wedding' at my second engagement," Walid told Noelle, his eyebrows drawn in a mock-serious expression.

Her super hot soon-to-be fiancé wore his standard three-piece suit, in a deep dove gray. She hadn't thought he could be sexier than in the tuxedo he'd worn to the
dublah
ceremony she'd interrupted, but she'd been wrong. Unlike most guys, the more casual he looked, the hotter he was.

In the past couple of weeks, the years seemed to have fallen off him. He was still a silver freakin' fox, but he just seemed... lighter. Younger. Happier. When he smiled, which was more often now, he looked closer to the thirty-two he was than the forty she'd mistaken him for when they met.
 

She shot him a devious smile. "Clearly you didn't notice the extra guards I had Kitoko post. No one's getting through her line of defense."

"She has made an excellent head of security." Walid sipped his champagne. He'd started taking the odd drink, she'd noticed. He seemed to be loosening up, just a little. Also a good look for him. "You are especially lovely today."

She put her hands on her hips. Her father had actually sent the contents of her closet when she'd asked. Kind of incredible. Of course, he hadn't sent Walid the money that would have meant he didn't have to auction his country's prized possession, but hey, she had her dresses. What a jerk.

With all the running she'd been doing, she felt tight and strong and confident. Most of the female guards had started to join her on her daily rounds, and she'd started to think of them as her crew. The Chanel gown she'd picked out of her wardrobe for today fit her like a glove. It had a wide white band that went from just under her breasts to just above her navel, but above and below, the fabric was black as darkest night.

Skull and crossbones colors.

"This old thing," she said.

"Askar is not so poor that you could not have purchased a new dress. But it is not the gown, so much as the pirate wearing it."

"You sold your cars. You sold the Palm. I don't really need a new dress for this little ceremony." She shrugged. "I'll spend a fortune on my wedding dress when the pipeline is up and running, I guess."

He took another sip of his drink. "I project that you will soon be able to purchase whatever you wish without dipping into the royal treasury."

"The scarf export business isn't exactly booming yet." No, it wasn't. But a certain tingling in her gut told her that Walid had a point.

"Your business will soon explode, when your celebutante--that is what you call them, no?--friends begin to wear your scarves in public."

She'd told herself she wouldn't drink before the ceremony. But now she grabbed the champagne flute out of Walid's hand and took a big swallow. Numbness prickled at the ends of her fingers. But she could take it. She wouldn't let it stop her. "It's uncomfortable having Elise and Mr. Lodhi-Rajput counting on me."

At that moment, her two business partners, who'd been thrilled to be invited to the ceremony, waved at her from across the room. They were both wearing floor-length scarves in the same shade of turquoise.

"You will succeed," he assured her. "Does your pirate princess not agree?"

Aye!
enthused Bonnie.

"With Faridah's help. She's made a great assistant."

"I intended to speak of her to you. You should prepare her to take over the company. I will soon require more of your attention in aid of an even larger project."

"Walid, I told you that we need to wait a couple years before having kids." Half the people at the ceremony probably thought they had a baby on the way already. With only two months from meeting to engagement, she couldn't blame them. She'd be thinking it herself. But since she wanted to continue living in the palace, the engagement was convenient.

Besides, she thought as she glanced at the profile of the most gorgeous man in the universe, she wanted to marry him more than anything ever. It was just right. They fit together like... She blushed as she thought how they'd fit together last night. They fit together like they belonged to each other. And always had. And always would.

"That is not what I speak of, though I look forward to beginning that project in earnest as well." With Walid smoldering at her like that, how long would she be able to stick to her guns on the subject of planning their family? "Though the hotel project with your father failed, I still wish to make Askar into a tourist destination. I have been approached by a Ms. Zahra St. Martin."

"She owns a hotel in New York. Hotel Scheherazade. Caters to Middle Eastern businessmen. I know it."

"She proposed collaborating on a resort on the bay of Muhum. You will act as special advisor on the project," he informed her.

"Me?" She laughed at the idea. "No, who you really need is my dad--"

Kitoko appeared at Walid's shoulder. Her new responsibilities had let her blossom. She ran the security force with an iron fist, a lot like Suzette ran the palace kitchen. Although the last time Noelle had visited the kitchen, all work had been halted while everyone watched Kalilah's new reality show,
Hair Pullers of the Middle East
. Or something like that.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesties."

Noelle controlled a potential shudder. It would take a while to get used to switching from a pirate princess to real-life queen. With Walid at her side, she would learn to manage. "I'm not anything Your anything yet, Kitoko. What's up?"

"Your parents are here. They arrived at the palace gates, but they have no explicit invitation. I had them escorted to outside the door."

She had no words. Angelique and Dad. Here. Now. Her insides turned glacial, her mind fossilized. How could she see them? How could she not?

"Escort them back to the airport," instructed Walid, putting his arm around her shoulder. More privately, he whispered, "You have gone white. There is no reason they should come here."

She turned to him. The warmth in his dark-and-gold eyes seemed to thaw everything inside her. "No," she said, wondering at herself. "No, let them in."

"Noelle, are you certain?"

She nodded, and Kitoko gestured to a guard at the door--Kitoko's former supervisor, it looked like.

For the first time in her life, Noelle saw her father look out of place.

Sure, he tried to project his ordinary confidence, but it seemed like he and Angelique hadn't known about the
dublah
, that their arrival was a fluke. Her father looked underdressed and unprepared.

The long journey from San Francisco made wrinkles threaten at the corners of his brown eyes--but of course the Botox wouldn't let them. Tiny beads of sweat sat at the ends of his substantial mustache, even in the comfortable air conditioning. In a room full of suits and tuxedos, he wore expensive, but casual, khakis.

Angelique was flawless, as usual. Her elegant boat-collared, cap-sleeve sheath dress was a little casual, but not totally out of place. Even after flying halfway across the world, her lipstick was perfect.

"Noelle, my girl," Winston Oldrich said, as if nothing at all had happened since she'd left dinner to refresh herself two months ago. "It's great to see you. Give your old man a hug and tell him what's going on here."

Hug him? Ha. Noelle didn't make a move. "Engagement ceremony, Dad."

Angelique's lips turned up for a flick of a second, then returned to neutral.

Why does she do that?
asked Bonnie.

She tries not to smile because she doesn't want to get wrinkles
, Noelle told her.

Yuck
, said Bonnie, and Noelle had to agree.

"And you are looking quite presentable." Angelique cast her eyes over Noelle's dress.

"Golly gee wilikers, thanks, Angelique," she told her stepmom.

Her father had a look of hurt in his eyes. "When we got the call that you were staying and marrying Walid here, we thought we'd celebrate with you, come see you as a surprise. Why didn't you invite us to this party?" Without waiting for the answer to the question, which he probably already knew, he stuck his hand out to Walid for a shake. "Put 'er there, boy. Everything works out well in the end. Welcome to the family, and no hard feelings."

A muscle in Walid's jaw jumped with tension, but he extended his hand. She was overcome with love for him. He would do anything for her, she knew. Even make a kind of peace with someone who had truly screwed him over.

But her father had stopped talking, thank God. She'd let him in because she wanted to ask a question. One single question. One she already knew the answer to.

"Did you bring a check for Walid, Dad?"

Her father shot an evil look at her, then laughed and ran a thumb and forefinger down his substantial salt-and-pepper mustache. "Noelle, this is hardly the time. Leave the business to guys who know better, isn't that right, Walid?"

Walid very pointedly looked to her.

"The money, Dad. You owe it, and you will pay."

Her father's attention darted from her face, to Walid, then back again. She pictured what he saw. Matching blank stares. Serious ones.

Then he mumbled something about Swiss banks. Cash flow issues. Wire transfers.

The same old thing. The same old promises. The same old father.

"Get out," she told him. "You'll be hearing from our lawyers."