The Sheik and the Bought Bride (10 page)

“That’s your only criteria?” she asked, a little unnerved by his calm determination. “What if you don’t like her? What if she smells funny or doesn’t have a sense of humor?”

“Ours will be a marriage of duty, nothing more.”

“You’re expected to have sex with her.”

“Not often, if I do not wish.”

She sat up and glared at him. “Just enough to get her pregnant? That’s romantic.”

“It is easier for a man than a woman,” he said, obviously amused by her reaction.

“Right. Because all cats are gray in the dark, right? That’s beyond disgusting. What about
her
feelings?”

“If she is a chieftain’s daughter, she will understand the importance of the alliance.”

Victoria stood and glared at him. “Let me guess. She’ll be fulfilled by her children and you’ll have the harem to keep you company.”

“Why are you so angry on behalf of a future wife who doesn’t yet exist?”

“I just am.”

He dropped his gaze to her body. “You know you’re naked, right?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

His attention seem to linger on her bare breasts. “I am simply returning to a subject we were on a few minutes ago.”

He moved faster than she would have thought possible, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her back to bed.

She squealed, but didn’t struggle too much. Not when his hands were so gentle as he explored her. He kissed her, and at the same time, slipped his fingers between her thighs. All the fight went out of her.

“You’re playing dirty,” she complained, even as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I play to win,” he told her before he kissed her again.

V
ictoria returned to Rasha’s house the following morning. She’d printed out several copies of the business plan and hoped they would be as intrigued as she was.

Rasha welcomed her warmly. “We have been excited since your last visit,” the woman told Victoria. “Together we have come up with several new designs. Would you like to see?”

Victoria studied the sketches of three pairs of earrings, a couple of bracelets and a pendant. They were all so delicate, yet substantial. Perfectly balanced, amazing pieces.

“I don’t know how you do this,” she said, touching the paper. “Do you see it in your head first? Does something inspire you?”

Rasha laughed. “Sometimes. Other times I just play around with shapes until one of them speaks to me. It’s difficult to explain.” She eyed the briefcase Victoria had brought with her. “Good news or bad news?”

“Good news. I have come up with a business plan. I spoke to Kateb about it and he’s very supportive.” She handed Rasha a folder and left the others on the table. “We can go over this together and then you can discuss it with the other artists. When you’ve made a decision, let me know and if you want, we’ll move forward.”

Victoria took her through the plan, page by page. Rasha followed it easily, then frowned when she saw the numbers.

“That is a lot of money,” she murmured. “I am not sure how long it will take us to save it. Many years.”

“You’re not expected to come up with the financing,” Victoria told her happily.

Rasha pressed her lips together. “While my husband is very supportive of what I do, he would never…The men of the village aren’t as modern as those you are used to.”

“Kateb will finance the expansion,” Victoria told her. “As a sign of his support. He will offer a low-cost loan. He believes in you and the other women, Rasha. He appreciates your talent and wants you to be successful.”

“The prince will finance us? He offers his support?”

Victoria grinned. “That should make this a whole lot easier to sell to the husbands, don’t you think?”

“Very much so. How did you convince him? What did you say?”

“I showed him the numbers. He saw the possibilities himself. He’s interested in economic diversity. You will be bringing a lot of money into the village, and he respects that.”

Rasha beamed. “The prince appreciates us.”

She picked up the papers and hurried into the other room where the women gathered around her. She spoke quickly, flipping through the pages. Victoria wanted to point out that Kateb was just a man, like every other. Being a prince was an accident of birth. But they wouldn’t see it
that way. He was somehow different from them, separated by station and power.

At least he was a good leader, she thought as squeals of excitement drifted to her. The elders had chosen well.

Would his duty wife appreciate that about him? Would she understand that he was mostly alone, having to decide for the many rather than for himself? Would she offer support and comfort? Would she appreciate how he could be kind, but that he didn’t want everyone to know he had a bit of a soft spot?

Not her business, Victoria told herself. By the time he’d picked his duty wife, she would be long gone. Which should have made her happy, but didn’t.

“We are delighted,” Rasha said when she returned. “How do we thank you for your help?”

“I’m having fun with all this. Don’t worry about it.”

Rasha nodded. “We will design a Princess Victoria collection.”

Her own line of jewelry? Could there be shoes, too? “I’m not a princess,” she said instead. “Just—you know—the girl in the harem.”

“But Prince Kateb must see the treasure he has in you.”

“You’d think,” she joked, not sure why she felt a tightness in her chest. “Anyway, let’s get back to business. I’m going to leave these copies of the business plan with you. Let’s talk in a few days and work out the details.”

“Yes. That will be wonderful.”

They rose and Rasha walked her to the door. When Victoria pulled it open, she saw the same small boy in the yard.

“Go away, Sa’id,” Rasha said sharply. “We do not want you here.”

The boy’s eyes filled with tears as he slunk away.

Victoria was a little shocked by her tone. “Who is he?”

“No one. A child in the village. My sister has a friend who weaves beautiful cloth. Could we sell her work the same way?”

“Maybe.” Victoria watched the boy turn a corner and disappear. “Where are his parents? He can’t be very old.”

“His mother is dead. His father…recently left the village.”

Victoria stared at her. “He doesn’t have any family?”

Rasha shrugged.

“Who feeds him?” Victoria demanded. “Where does he sleep?”

“That isn’t your concern. He will be fine.”

Rasha once again brought up the textiles. Victoria promised to think about it, mostly so she could get away and find the boy.

How was it possible that Rasha could be so callous about a child? From all Victoria knew, she was a warm, caring woman. But she’d dismissed Sa’id as if he were a stray cat.

Victoria hurried along the street and turned where the boy had. She saw him sitting in a doorway, wiping his face. He kicked at the stone street with his bare toes.

“Sa’id?” she called softly.

He looked up and smiled at her. “Hello.”

“Hello yourself. I’m Victoria.”

“You have pretty hair.”

“I remember you like it.”

He was painfully thin and covered in dust and dirt. His clothes were practically rags. She didn’t know much about children, so wasn’t sure of his age. Seven? Nine?

She crouched in front of him. “Sa’id, where do you live?”

His smile faded. “I need to go,” he told her.

“Please don’t. Do you have a home?”

Tears filled his eyes again. “No.”

“And you don’t have any family?”

He shook his head, then wiped his eyes angrily. “No,” he said again, and squared his shoulders.

What the hell was going on? She had seen nothing but kindness from the people in the village. They were peaceful, thoughtful and prosperous. Why would a child be left alone on the streets?

“You must be hungry,” she said. “It’s very close to lunchtime. I know I’m hungry. Would you like to come with me and get something to eat?”

His eyes widened. “You live in the Winter Palace.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I just can’t.”

“But if I live there and you’re with me, wouldn’t that be okay?”

He frowned. “Maybe.”

She stood and held out her hand. “I say it is and I have very pretty hair.”

He smiled. “Okay.” He put his hand in hers.

She went around to the rear of the palace, just in case there was some weird protocol thing she couldn’t understand. She didn’t want to make trouble until she understood everything going on. But she was determined to get the child a meal.

She had barely taken three steps into the kitchen when all the cooks started talking in a language she didn’t understand. She caught a few words about dirty hands and sacred space, so she led Sa’id to a small bathroom down the hall. Once they’d both washed their hands, they went into a dining room mostly used by staff. Victoria sat him at a table and went to get food.

When she returned with a tray, one of the maids approached her, then bowed slightly.

“Miss Victoria, you have brought Sa’id to the palace?” The young woman looked frightened.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

The maid was maybe eighteen, bright and pretty, with an easy smile. It was missing now as she bit her lower lip.

“No, of course not. You are the prince’s mistress. I, um, know him. His mother and mine were cousins by marriage. I was just surprised to see him here.”

“I was surprised to see him on the street. Do you know why he’s living there?”

The woman nodded and ducked her head.

Victoria held in a sigh. There was no point in making her uncomfortable. She would talk to Yusra instead.

“Can you sit with him while I find out what’s going on?”

The maid smiled. “Gladly. I am finished for the day. I can take him to my rooms.”

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long.”

Victoria watched until the maid had spoken with Sa’id. The boy nodded eagerly, then dug into his lunch as if he hadn’t eaten for days. Maybe he hadn’t.

It didn’t take her long to find Yusra. The old woman stood counting linens in a massive closet filled with shelves stacked with towels and sheets.

“The boy Sa’id,” Victoria said by way of greeting. “Do you know him? He’s living on the street. Apparently he doesn’t have any family.”

Yusra put down her clipboard. “I know of him. His mother died some time ago. His father stole camels and rather than accept his punishment—he escaped into the desert. The boy bears his father’s dishonor.” She returned to a stack of towels.

“Wait a minute,” Victoria said. “That’s it? What does ‘bears his father’s dishonor’ mean?”

“That the boy will be punished in his father’s absence.”

“Punished how?”

“He is no longer one of us.”

Victoria stared at her. “As in abandoned? He gets to fend for himself? He’s what, nine?”

“Yes. It is our way.”

“Your way sucks. He can starve and no one cares?”

“He must be punished.”

“But he didn’t do anything wrong!”

Yusra sighed. “There are things you can’t understand. This is what we do.”

“It’s wrong and I won’t let it happen.”

“You can’t stop it.”

“Watch me.”

The meeting with the head of agriculture normally kept Kateb’s interest. Not only did the village produce enough for themselves, but there was plenty to export to the city and even to neighboring countries. This afternoon, however, he found his attention drawn to the sight of Victoria pacing outside the conference room. He could see her every time she passed in front of the open door. She never once glanced inside, but she was obviously waiting for him. If her stiff back and set expression were anything to go by, she wasn’t happy.

After five more minutes of her passing back and forth, he stopped the conversation and rescheduled the discussion for later in the week. As the men filed out, she looked at him. He gestured for her to join him in his office.

“What was the meeting about?” she asked as she entered.

“Crop yields for the season.”

“How nice. So some people get to eat. Tell me, is there a chart? Do you have to make sure your name is on the list before you get a meal?”

She was obviously furious. He could feel her anger from several feet away. Her eyes snapped with temper and she looked like she wanted to throw something.

His interest in what bothered her surprised him. He would have thought he would easily dismiss her and her concerns without knowing the cause, but that wasn’t true. He wanted to hear what had happened and, even more unexpected, he wanted to fix the problem.

He stood from the conference table and crossed to her. After taking both her hands in his, he stared into her blue eyes. “Tell me what is bothering you,” he said.

She jerked free of his touch and paced the length of the room. “You won’t believe it. Or maybe you will.
I
don’t believe it. I like it here. Did you know that? I think it’s beautiful and the people are warm and friendly. I love the palace and the architecture and nearly everything. But it’s like seeing a dead body in the sun. At first everything is fine, but when you get close you see the crawling maggots. It’s disgusting.”

“You paint a vivid picture,” he told her. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a little boy. Sa’id. Apparently his mother is dead and his father stole camels. Rather than accept his punishment, the man ran off, leaving Sa’id on his own. Now the boy is being punished for what his father did. He’s maybe nine and living on the streets. No one is taking care of him, he’s not getting any food or medical attention. I’m sure he’s not going to school. Where is he supposed to sleep at night? Is he just going to starve?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t understand how this is possible. I really liked Rasha, but she dismissed him as if he were nothing. Yusra told me it wasn’t my concern. But I can’t let a child suffer and die, especially not one right in front of me. I hate this and I hate them for letting it happen.”

A single tear spilled onto her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently. “I swear to God, Kateb, if you tell me to leave this alone, I will kill you in your sleep.”

He crossed to her and pulled her against him. “No, you won’t.”

“I’ll want to.”

“A difference I will cling to in my fear.”

She looked up at him, but didn’t smile. “There is a starving child in your village. You have to fix this.”

“You don’t understand our ways. They appear harsh—”

She stepped back and glared at him. “They
are
harsh. Yes, Sa’id’s father is a jerk. That’s not his fault. He can’t change his father. He can’t make the situation better.”

Just like she couldn’t with her father
, he thought, seeing this affected her more than she realized.

“The rules are harsh,” he said again, “but they serve a purpose. Other adults see the boy’s suffering and know their own behavior has consequences.”

“So he gets to be an object lesson? I can’t believe he is destined to die on the streets. Then what? Who removes his body, or is it left there for the dogs?” More tears fell. “I don’t accept this. I won’t. This has to be better. Is he the only one? Are there more? Do the people of the village make it a habit to starve children to death? What happened to just loving them? Why is anything about this acceptable?”

Once again he reached for her. This time she came willingly. She leaned against him and cried as if her heart were breaking.

“You can’t allow this,” she whispered into his shoulder.

He rubbed her back and murmured her name.

So much pain for a child she barely knew,
he thought. Victoria wore her heart on her sleeve. She had a softness, a tenderness he had not seen before. She needed protection from the harshness in the world. At the same time, he
recognized her compassion gave her an inner strength and a direction he admired. She saw things clearly where others would make excuses.