The Return of the Sheikh (6 page)

Confused, Madison strode to the mirrored dresser to take a look. Not only was her hair a blond Medusa mess from going to bed with it wet, she had a nice red patch of whisker burn below her bottom lip. “I used something new on my face, so that must be it. I’ll be avoiding it from now on.” Avoiding Zain’s seduction skills, even if she couldn’t avoid him.

“Would this something new be tall, dark and have a heavy evening beard?”

She met Elena’s wily smile in the reflection. She hated to lie, so she’d simply be evasive. Turning from the mirror, she gestured toward the tray holding a silver pot and a plate of pastries. “I hope that’s not more tea.”

Elena shook her head. “No. It’s coffee. Very strong coffee. I decided you would need some caffeine for your meeting with Prince Zain.”

She didn’t recall scheduling a specific time. Then again, last night’s details were a bit fuzzy, except for the blasted kiss. “When does he expect me?”

“Now. He’s is in the study, waiting. And he seems to be in a somewhat foul mood.”

Lovely. “Do you know the reason behind his foul mood?”

Elena tapped her chin with a slender finger and looked thoughtful. “Perhaps it is because he has tried something new on his face and he would like more of the same.”

Madison internally cringed. If she kept backing herself into corners, she’d soon be folded in half. “Elena, seriously, this is just a rash. I have very sensitive skin.”

“Yes,
cara,
and I am the Queen of Italia. I can tell when a woman has been kissed, and kissed well. And of course, I know Prince Zain is the culprit. He is a charmer, that
diavoletto.
”

Little devil
was an apt description of Zain Mehdi.
Sexy little devil.
“Okay, if you must know, we shared a friendly kiss. Thanks to your special tea, I had a temporary lapse in judgment.”

Elena laughed softly. “Prince Zain’s powers of persuasion are much stronger than my tea. I only caution you to take care with your heart.”

Madison held up her hand as if taking an oath. “I promise you there will be no more kissing, friendly or otherwise. I’m not one to bend the rules, much less break them.”

Elena smiled. “I wish you much luck with that.” She headed for the door and paused with her hand on the knob.
“L’amore domina senza regole,”
she muttered before she disappeared into the corridor.

Love rules without rules.

Who said anything about love? She wasn’t in love with Zain Mehdi. In lust maybe, but that fell far from love.

Regardless, she didn’t have time to ponder the woman’s warning or the kiss or anything else for that matter. She needed to prepare to see the future king.

After she completed her morning ritual, Madison applied some makeup and twisted and secured her crazy hair at her nape. She dressed in brown slacks and sleeveless beige silk turtleneck that she covered with a taupe jacket, intentionally making certain she bared no skin aside from her hands and face. Wearing gloves and a veil would probably be overkill. She chose to nix the pastry but paused long enough to drink a cup of black lukewarm coffee. Even if she was somewhat hungry, she didn’t dare feed the butterflies flitting around in her belly.

Those butterflies continued to annoy her as she grabbed her briefcase and headed downstairs to the second-floor office. Surprisingly she found the door partially ajar, but no guards and no prince in sight when she entered the vacant study. Only a few seconds passed before Zain emerged from what appeared to be an en suite bathroom.

Aside from one wayward lock of dark hair falling across his forehead, he looked every bit the debonair businessman. He wore a pair of black wool slacks and a white shirt with a gray tie draped loosely around his neck. The light shading of whiskers surrounding his mouth led Madison right down the memory path toward that toe-curling kiss.

She shoved the thoughts away and put on a sunny smile. “Good morning.”

Without returning the greeting, Zain crossed the room to the coat tree to the right of the desk and took a jacket from one hanger. “Did you have breakfast?” he asked.

He was so absolutely gorgeous she’d love to have him for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner… “I didn’t have time. But I did have the most important staple—coffee.”

He turned, slipped the coat on and nailed her with those lethal dark eyes. “I’ll have the chef prepare you something you can eat while you wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“I am about to address my royal subjects.”

Several key concerns tumbled around in Madison’s mind. She’d begin with the first. “Best I recall, you’re not scheduled to do that for another two days.”

He slid the top button closed on his collar. “Apparently the masses did not receive the memo.”

Apparently. “Where is this going to take place?”

He gestured to his right. “Outside on the terrace where my father and my father’s father have always spoken to the people.”

Madison set her briefcase on a chair and immediately walked to the double doors to peek through the heavy red curtains. She saw a substantial stone balcony containing a podium with a skinny microphone as well as several stern—and heavily armed—sentries standing guard. As she peered in the distance, she caught a glimpse of an iron fence, also lined with guards, holding back the milling crowd. And in that crowd stood a few respectable correspondents, along with more than a few pond-scum tabloid reporters.

After dropping the curtain, she faced Zain again. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

He rounded the desk, leaned back against it and began to work his tie. “I am your new king. Accept it.”

Her mouth dropped open momentarily from shock. “You can’t be serious.”

“It is simple and to the point.” His smile was crooked, and so was his tie.

“Perhaps a little too simple and too pointed.”

“I am not yet prepared to speak on all my plans.”

“But are you prepared for the questions that are going to be hurled at you by reporters?”

He buttoned his coat closed. “Rest assured I’ve handled the press before.”

“Even paparazzi?”

“Especially paparazzi.”

Considering his notorious way with women, she supposed he probably had encountered more than his share of media stalkers. However, she still worried he could get bombarded by a few queries that could trip him up. Hopefully he’d learned how to ignore those. Too bad his tie was too askew for her to ignore.

Without giving it a second thought, Madison walked right up to him to fix the problem. The memory of her mother doing the same thing for Madison’s dad settled over her. Was she in danger of becoming her mother? Only if she professed her undying love to Zain and promised to follow him throughout the world. He wasn’t the undying-love kind, but he certainly did smell great. Nothing overpowering, just a hint of light, earthy cologne. Or maybe it was the soap he’d used in the shower. Never before had she aspired to be a bar of soap, but at the moment she did. How nice it would be to travel down all that slick, wet, fantastic male terrain, over muscle and sinew and hills and valleys. Definitely hills…

“Are you finished yet?”

Zain’s question jarred Madison back into the here and now. “Almost.” She smoothed her hand over the gray silk tie and straightened lapels that didn’t need straightening. Just when she was about to step back, he captured her hands against his chest.

“I am curious about something,” he said, his dark eyes leveled on hers.

“Sage-green satin. Matching bra, if you must know.” Heavens, she was volunteering underwear info before he’d officially asked.

“Actually, I was about to inquire about your night and if you slept well.”

Now she felt somewhat foolish and confused as to why she hadn’t tried to wrest her hands away from his. “I slept well, thank you, although I did have a few odd dreams.”

He raised a brow. “Sexual dreams?”

“Strange dreams. I was climbing up a mountain chasing a snake.”

His smile caught her off guard. “Some believe climbing denotes a craving for intercourse. Need I say what the mountain and snake symbolize?”

That phallic mountain would be her Waterloo if they didn’t stop discussing it. “Spoken like a man. I’m sure you could make a dream about doing laundry all about sex.”

“Perhaps if it involved washing your lingerie.”

She tried to hold back her own smile, without success. “Right now you should be concentrating on your speech, not sex dreams.”

He raised her hand and kissed her palm before setting it back against his chest. “It’s difficult to concentrate with this ongoing chemistry between us.”

She couldn’t argue that, although she would. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Don’t be naive, Madison. You feel it now.”

She admittedly did feel a bit warm and somewhat tingly. Maybe a little lightheaded, but then that could be some lingering effects of the tea. She managed to slip from his grasp and take a much-needed step back. “If you’re referring to what happened last night, that was a mistake.”

“You’re going to deny that you wanted to kiss me? That you want to kiss me now?”

She could deny—and lie—in the same breath. “I want to get back to the issue at hand, namely your speech. In my opinion, it’s important that you appear to be a strong yet compassionate leader. Be decisive but not forceful.”

“I have come to one important decision now.”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “What would that be?”

He moved closer, rested a hand on her shoulder and brought his lips to her ear. He whispered soft words that sounded lyrical, sensual, though she couldn’t begin to comprehend the message, at least not literally. She could venture a guess that the missive was sexual in nature.

When Zain pulled back and homed in on her gaze, she released a slow, ragged breath. “Do you care to interpret what you just said to me?”

“Later, when we have complete privacy.”

That sent Madison’s imagination straight into overdrive and would have quite possibly, had it not been for the rap on the door, sent Madison straight into Zain’s arms.

“Enter,” he said, his voice somewhat raspy and noticeably strained.

Madison smoothed a hand down her jacket then over her hair as Deeb stepped in the room, looking every bit the humorless assistant. “You are cleared to proceed, Emir.”

Zain rubbed a hand over his jaw. “The shooters are in place?”

“Yes. Four positioned on the roof, two in the tower.”

The reality of Zain’s importance suddenly hit home for Madison. So did the reality of what she’d almost done—kiss the king for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Yet she didn’t have time to think about it as two bodyguards swept into the room, pulled back the curtains and escorted Zain onto the terrace.

Madison stood to one side slightly behind the drapes while Mr. Deeb took his place beside her. When Zain positioned himself behind the podium, a series of shouts ensued above the murmuring crowd. “What are they saying?” she asked Deeb.

“They are calling him a turncoat.”

Ouch. She wished she could see Zain’s face, gauge his reaction, but she could only see his back and his hands gripping the edge of the wooden surface, indicating he could be stressed. But no one would know that, she realized, the moment he began to speak in words she couldn’t begin to understand.

“What’s he saying?” she asked Deeb who remained his usual noncommittal self.

“He is telling them he is honored to be their leader and he looks forward to serving them.”

So far, so good. But then she heard the sounds of disapproval and didn’t feel nearly as confident. “What now?”

“He claims he is not his father and that he will rule differently,” Deeb said. “He is also speaking of positive changes he wishes to make, such as improvements to the hospital and the schools.”

As Zain continued, Madison noticed the temporarily dissatisfied crowd had quieted and many people, particularly women, seemed to hang on his every word. And although she couldn’t interpret his words, she could certainly appreciate his voice—a deep, mellow voice that went down as smoothly as a vintage glass of wine.

After an enthusiastic round of applause, she turned to ask for clarification from Deeb, only to hear someone suddenly shout in English, “Is it true you fathered a child with Keeley Winterlind?”

Though she’d been aware of Zain’s liaison with the supermodel, Madison was seriously stunned by the query, and thoroughly appalled that someone would interrupt a king’s speech in search of a sordid story. Worse, was it true?

Zain ignored the question and continued to speak to the throng that seemed to grow more restless by the minute. Then another reporter demanded he address the pregnancy issue, prompting shouts from the masses.

Although Madison still couldn’t see Zain’s expression, she did notice his hands fisted at his sides. She had no clue what he’d muttered, but it didn’t sound at all friendly and, considering the crowd’s angry reaction, it wasn’t. Amid the show of raised fists and verbal condemnation, Zain turned and stormed back into the study. He didn’t afford her or Deeb a passing glance, nor did he hesitate to make a swift exit, slamming the door behind him.

Madison waited for the sentries to leave before she sought confirmation or denial from her only immediate source of information. “Is it true about the baby?”

Deeb’s expression remained emotionless, but she saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. “I am afraid, Miss Foster, you will have to ask the emir.”

And that’s exactly what Madison intended to do. First, she had to find him, and soon, before all hell broke loose.

Four

“D
id you find your meal satisfactory, Your Wickedness?”

Zain looked up from his barren plate to see Maysa Barad—
Doctor
Maysa Barad—standing in the doorway wearing a bright purple caftan, her dark hair pulled back into a braid. He returned her smile, though that was the last thing he cared to do. But she was his friend, and she had opened her home to him as a temporary sanctuary. “It was very good. My compliments to your chef. He has a masterful hand.”

“
She
is a master,” Maysa said as she pulled back the adjacent chair and sat. “I made your dinner after I gave my chef the night off. However, since I still have household staff on the premises, we should continue to speak English to ensure our new king has his privacy.”

At the moment he preferred not to be reminded of his duty. “My position will not be official until the coronation.”

“You were king the moment your father passed. My sympathies to you, though I know the two of you did not always see eye to eye.”

That was an understatement. “Thank you for that, and for allowing me to arrive virtually unannounced.”

“You are always welcome here, Zain.” She rested her elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm, sending the heavy bangles at her wrists down her arm. “And you have always been the official king of mischief.”

“And you are still as pretty as you were the last time I saw you.”

Her smile expanded. “But are you still the little devil who attempted to frighten me with toads?”

She had been the sister he’d never had. “You were never really frightened, were you?”

“No. I was simply playing along until Rafiq came along to rescue me.”

Zain had always suspected that to be the case. Maysa had been in love with his brother for as long as he could recall. He wondered if she still was. “Speaking of Rafiq, will you be attending the wedding?”

She straightened in the chair, her frame as rigid as the carved wooden table. “I received an invitation, but do not wish to witness that charade.”

Yes, she was still in love with Rafiq. “I agree it might not be the best match.”

“A match made in misery. Rafiq will never be happy with a woman whose heart belongs to another man.”

“What man?”

Zain saw a flash of regret pass over her expression. “I would rather not say. In fact, I have already said too much.”

“Can you tell me if Rima has returned this man’s affections?”

“Yes, she has.”

He tried to contain his shock. “Does Rafiq know?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “If he does, he has chosen to ignore it. Regardless, it is not my place to tell him, and I would hope you keep it to yourself, as well.”

He did not like the thought of concealing the truth from his brother, yet he doubted Rafiq would believe him. “It would not matter, Maysa. Rafiq is all about duty, regardless of the circumstance. He has every intention of honoring the marriage contract.”

She flipped her hand in dismissal. “Enough talk about your brother and his bride. Tell me about California. I did not have the opportunity to visit there when I was in medical school in the States.”

Los Angeles had only been his home base and little more. “I traveled a good deal of the time.”

“Then tell me about that. I am sure you met many interesting people and saw many interesting sights.”

He had seen devastation, drought, famine and disease. Sights he never cared to see again, especially in his own country. “I’m certain my experiences do not compare to yours as a physician.”

She shook her head. “My experiences have been challenging since my return to Bajul. I am the only female doctor and the only one who will treat those who can pay very little, if at all. The others cater to the wealthier population.”

That came as no surprise to Zain. “Your commitment is admirable, Maysa. Once I am fully in charge, I will make certain the hospital undergoes renovations and medical offices are added. Perhaps then you can receive pay for your services.”

“I do not need the money as much as the people need my help,” she said. “Fortunately, my father has allowed me to live in his palatial second home regardless that I have failed him as a daughter. He is also kind enough to provide the funds to keep the household going, though I despise taking even one riyal from him.”

Zain could not imagine a father considering his daughter a failure after she had established a successful medical career. But then Maysa’s father had always been an ass. “Does the sultan come to visit often?”

She released a bitter laugh. “Oh, no. He is either in Saudi or Yemen with my poor mother, building his fortune so that he may provide for his many mistresses.”

Maysa had the same issues with her father as Zain had always had with his. “I believe I recall you were bound to a betrothal at one time. I take it that did not come to fruition.”

“Actually, it did. Two weeks after the wedding, I realized that contrary to our culture, a woman does not need a man to survive. It took some effort to obtain a divorce, but I managed it. And Father has not forgiven me for it.”

“I’m certain it hasn’t been easy on you.”

She shrugged. “I realized there would be those who would shun me because of my decision, yet I refused to let that deter me. No man will ever dictate my future.”

Zain couldn’t help but smile when he thought about Madison. She and Maysa were very much alike. Yet he felt more than brotherly fondness for Madison.

“Do you find me amusing,
Your Highness?
” Maysa asked.

“No. You reminded me of someone else I know.”

“Someone special?”

Perhaps too special for his own good. “Actually, she is a political consultant Rafiq hired to save me from myself.”

“She has a huge task ahead of her then.”

“Believe me, she is up to the task. She is also very headstrong, and extremely intelligent. Fortunately, she has a sense of humor, as well. Sometimes I find her frustrating, other times extremely intriguing.”

“Is she attractive?”

“Yes, but her attractiveness goes well beyond her physical appearance. She is one of the most fascinating women I have ever encountered.”

She inclined her head and studied him. “You have feelings for her.”

Maysa’s comment took him aback. “She is an employee.”

“An employee who has hypnotized you, Zain. Perhaps the sheikh has met his match in more ways than one.”

“That is absurd,” he said without much conviction. “I have only known her a few days.”

“Yet it is those immediate connections that at times make a lasting impact on our lives.”

From the wistfulness in Maysa’s tone, Zain recognized she spoke from experience. “Even if I did develop these feelings you speak of, we both know a permanent relationship with an outsider could never happen.”

She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “Ah, yes. We are back to the antiquated tradition of marrying our own kind. You have the power to change that.”

“I have other changes to make that are more important. Changes that will affect the future of this country.”

“And you are not concerned about your own future?” she asked. “Would you give up a chance at finding love for a tradition that should have died long ago?”

He was too tired to defend his decisions, which led to his next request. “Would you have an available room where I could stay the night?”

“I have twelve bedrooms at your disposal,” she said. “But will you not be missed?”

He would, but he did not care. “Deeb knows where I am.”

“Zain, although it is truly not any of my concern, you cannot hide away when times become difficult.”

He tossed his napkin aside. “Then you’ve heard about the latest accusations.”

“I was there when you spoke this morning. You had everyone in the palm of your hand until that
himar
intruded.”

Zain had considered calling him something much worse than a donkey. “For your information, I am not hiding. I am only taking a brief sabbatical to gather my thoughts.”

She frowned. “Forgive me for pointing this out, but you have always been one to withdraw from the world when you lose control. The role you will soon assume requires continuity. Are you certain you are willing to bear that burden?”

Though he did not appreciate her commentary, he reluctantly admitted she was partially right. “I have prepared for this opportunity for many years. Once I am established, I will commit fully to my duties.”

She smiled and patted his hand. “I know you will. Now if you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters for the evening, where you can rest and fantasize about that special consultant who has obviously earned a little piece of the king’s heart.”

Maysa knew him all too well, yet she was wrong about his feelings for Madison. She did not—nor would she ever—have any claim on his heart.

*

After Zain’s twenty-four-hour absence, Madison finally located him on the palace’s rooftop. He sat on the cement ground with his back against the wall, hands laced together on his belly, one long leg stretched out before him, the other bent at the knee. He seemed so lost in his thoughts, she questioned whether she should give him more alone time. Regrettably, time was a luxury they didn’t have. Not when she required answers to burning questions in order to circumvent the gossip. Provided it
was
gossip.

Before moving forward, she paused a few moments to ponder his atypical clothing. The standard white tailored shirt, Italian loafers and dark slacks had been replaced by a fitted black tee, khaki cargo pants and heavy brown boots. He reminded her of an adventurous explorer ready for travel—and in some ways dressed to kill. His rugged appearance was unquestionably murdering her composure.

Madison shored up her courage, walked right up to him and hovered above him. “I see the sheikh has finally returned.”

He glanced up at her, his expression somber. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Elena mentioned you might be here. She said you and your brothers used to hide from her up here when it was time for your lessons.”

He smiled but it faded fast. “I should have known she would give my secrets away.”

Madison wondered what other secrets he might be keeping. “Mind if I join you?”

He gestured toward the space beside him. “It’s less than comfortable, but be my guest.”

She carefully lowered herself to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest, taking care to make sure the hem of her dress was properly in place. “The next time you decide to do a disappearing act, do you mind letting me in on it?”

“I assure you, it will not happen again.”

“I hope I can trust you on that. You wouldn’t believe how frantic everyone was until Mr. Deeb told us you were safe.”

“I was never in danger,” he said as he continued to stare straight ahead. “I stayed with a friend at a house in the foothills.”

She could only imagine what that might have entailed if that friend happened to be female. “How did you get there? And how did you manage to evade your bodyguards? Rafiq is still furious over that.”

“I took one of the all-terrain vehicles, and Deeb was aware of my departure. Guards are not necessary when I take care to disguise myself.”

She noticed a camouflage baseball cap resting at his side. “So that’s the reason for the casual clothes?”

“They serve me well in hiding my identity.”

They served him well in highlighting his finer points, and that sent her straight into a fishing expedition. “And this friend had no qualms about concealing the future king?”

“Maysa understands my need for privacy. She made certain I was not disturbed.”

As she’d gathered—a woman friend. “Does this friendship come with or without benefits?” She hated that she sounded like some jealous lover.

“Without benefits,” he said before adding, “although I do not expect you to believe me.”

He sounded more frustrated than angry. “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

He sent her a sideways glance. “Then you are in the minority. Most people choose to believe the worst of me.”

She lowered her legs and shifted slightly to face him. “Since it seems you don’t have an official press secretary, I spent the day sending out releases stating you vehemently deny fathering Keeley Winterlind’s child. The question is, did I lie?”

“No.”

She released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Not even a remote possibility?”

“No.”

She truly wanted to believe him, but… “I do remember seeing photos of the two of you a couple years ago.”

“That means nothing.” Now he sounded angry.

“It means there’s proof you had a connection with her.”

“A platonic connection,” he said. “I came upon her ex-lover threatening her at a social gathering and I intervened. We remained in contact because she needed someone to set her on the right path. However, she was young and impressionable and immature. The last I heard, she had reunited with the boyfriend because I could not convince her that the controlling bastard wasn’t good for her.”

If what he’d said was true, then in essence he was a champion of women. “Do you think she’s the one claiming you’re her baby’s father?”

“No. She contacted me this afternoon and assured me she had nothing to do with the speculation, and I trust her. She also confirmed the ex is the father.”

“I’m relieved I told the truth when I denied the speculation.”

“As if that will do any good.”

He seemed so sullen, Madison felt the need to lift his spirits. “Have you seen the news footage of your speech?”

“No, and I refuse to watch it.”

No surprise there. “Well, you looked incredibly debonair and poised.” And absolutely gorgeous. “I’m sure you’ll start receiving requests for invitations from a slew of queen candidates.”

“I highly doubt they would be interested in light of the recent attacks on my character.”

Her efforts to cheer him up were on the verge of becoming an epic failure. “Hey, if they could see you in your adventurer’s gear, they wouldn’t care about your character.”

She’d finally coaxed a smile from him. A tiny smile, but at least it was something. “I fail to understand how I could charm a woman with clothing not fit for a king.”