A Question of Honor

Chapter THREE


THE SNOW THAT had been threatening from the moment she’d woken up was falling steadily by the time that Clemmie turned off the motorway and headed back to the village. Huge white flakes whirled in front of her windscreen and the elderly wipers had trouble pushing them aside so that she could see the road.

‘Oh, come on!’ she muttered out loud, concentrating fiercely on steering as carefully as possible. After just over nine months in England, and most of that spent in much warmer and easier weather conditions, she was unused to driving over icy roads, and the addition of the slippery coating of snow made the situation even more treacherous.

Added to that, her elderly car was not exactly in the best state for difficult weather driving. Because she had basically run away from home when she had found out about Harry, not taking much money with her, and not wanting to use her bank cards in case someone found where she was staying, she had bought the cheapest, oldest car she could afford. A decision that had seemed wise at the time, but which she was really regretting now.

Particularly when the engine started to splutter in a worrying way, and the rather worn tyres spun on the frozen surface. If only she had the sort of powerful, brand new four-wheel drive that had brought Karim to the cottage. That beast would have eaten up the miles between the small market town where Harry lived and the moorland village where she had made her temporary home with no trouble.

‘Karim.’

Just the thought of him took her attention so that her concentration on her driving went along with it. For a couple of dangerous seconds, the car drifted towards the centre of the road, only coming back under control as she shook her head sharply, reminding herself of where she was.

But the thought of coming face to face with Karim once again made her stomach nerves tighten and twist into painful knots.

Karim Al Khalifa would be waiting for her when she got home. OK, perhaps he wouldn’t actually be in the house, but she knew that as soon as he realised she was back, he would be there on the doorstep once again, demanding that she come with him, travel with him back to Rhastaan.

And to her wedding.

Once again the wheel jerked under her convulsive grip, and the unpleasant groaning sound that came from the engine made her wince in distress.

There was no avoiding it now. No hope of gaining any more time or hoping for a reprieve. Her twenty-third birthday was coming up fast, and Nabil had come of age last month. The promises their parents had made to each other would have to be kept. The marriage that had been arranged all those years before must now take place. Or the consequences were unthinkable.

And Karim had been sent to make sure that she kept her word.

Just for a moment the image of Nabil as she had last seen him floated behind her eyes. A gangling youth—not much more than a boy, with hooded eyes, a whisper of a moustache under his hooked nose and a sullen mouth, and her stomach clenched on a pang of nerves. But perhaps he had changed, grown up in the time since she had been at the court. He would be a year older after all.

And it was really rather unfair to consider him in the same thought as Karim Al Khalifa. Karim, the dark and devastating. Karim, with the tall and muscular frame that dominated a room so effortlessly. With the sexy, deep-toned voice, the powerful yet somehow elegant hands, the polished jet eyes and the stunning, outrageously lush thick lashes that framed them.

‘What am I doing?’

Clemmie’s hands tightened round the steering wheel until her knuckles showed white.

Up ahead, on the horizon at the top of the hill, almost concealed by the wildly whirling snow, the outline of the cottage appeared etched against the heavy grey-whiteness of the sky. Home. Or it should have felt like home, like coming back to safety, warmth and comfort after the long and difficult journey.

This little cottage had been the only sort of home she had ever known. Holidays with her English grandmother had given her a tiny taste of freedom from the rules and protocol of the court. Used to the burning heat of Balakhar and Rhastaan, she had loved the peace and quiet, the green fields that surrounded it, the sweeping view spread out from where it stood high on the hill. She had lived a much simpler, very different way of life with her grandmother, how different she hadn’t fully realised until she had seen the happy, relaxed childhood Harry was now enjoying with his adoptive parents. They might not have anything like the luxuries she had known but they had one great treasure—the love they shared. And the freedom she was determined to preserve for Harry at all costs.

But the cottage no longer felt like home. Instead, it seemed as if she was heading foolishly into a trap, putting her head into the lion’s jaws. And the sleek, dark predator who had turned her home into an alien, hostile environment was Karim Al Khalifa.


But the problem was that she wasn’t thinking of him as that predator. She wasn’t even remembering him as the cold-eyed, tight-jawed, arrogant representative of the Sheikh of Markhazad. The Crown Prince of Markhazad himself. All she could focus on right now was the man himself.

And what a man.

Shivering pulses of excitement sparked along her nerves at just the memory, the recollection of having him so close, the scent of his skin. He was not a man to be alone with in the confined space of her small cottage. He was pure temptation, and tempted was something she couldn’t afford to be—not now, not ever.

Just for a second Clemmie considered putting the car into a turn and heading back the way she had come. Back to the house where she had just left Harry, so happy and secure, worn out after the excitement and enjoyment of his birthday party. Surely Arthur and Mary Clendon, Harry’s adoptive parents, would give her support, somewhere to stay...

‘No!’

She couldn’t go back on her word. The word she had given to her father and the Sheikh. However much she felt her insides twist in apprehension at the thought of the future, she had made her promise and she had to stick by it. If she didn’t, then someone else would come looking for her—after all, Karim had found her easily enough. And they would find Harry.

Surely her memory had to be playing her false. Karim couldn’t have possibly been that devastating. That sexy. Could he?

Well, it seemed she wasn’t due to have her memory jogged any time tonight at least, she told herself as she swung the little car in through the battered gates and pulled to a halt at the side of the small house. Wherever Karim was this evening, it wasn’t here at Hawthorn Cottage. There was no sign of the big hulk of his car, and all the lights were off inside the house. Obviously, he had decided to go somewhere else, probably somewhere where he could have much more comfort than her small home could provide.

So was that flutter in her stomach one of relief or disappointment? She didn’t dare to pursue the question any further, afraid of what it might reveal, as she pulled on the brake and switched off the engine. Not before time, she acknowledged. The silence that fell as the rattle died away made it only too clear that what she had been hearing was the death throes of the elderly car. It certainly wasn’t going to take her very much further after tonight. The snow—heavy and drifting now, piling up against the walls of the cottage and blocking the narrow lane—had been the very last straw.

It was almost the last straw for her too, as she got out of the car and straight into a snowdrift that was nearly up to her thighs. Cold and wet slid into her shoes, making her shudder and she grabbed her bag, dashing towards the door. It wasn’t locked, of course, she realised belatedly as she pushed it open. In her haste to be gone yesterday, to get away from Karim, she hadn’t thought about locking anything after her, just to get on the road.

Another wild fall of snow whirled around her, so thick and heavy that she couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her as she stumbled into the house, deeply grateful for the warmth that even the old-fashioned central heating had thrown out while she was away. A quick glance out of the window showed that the snow had already piled inches deep on top of her car.

‘Going nowhere else tonight,’ she muttered, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on a hook on the wall.

So did that mean that Karim wouldn’t be able to make it to the cottage either? Did she actually have an extra night’s grace?

She needed a coffee and perhaps some food before she thought about her next move, she told herself, pulling open the door into the living room. But before that she’d get the fire going to keep the house warm all through the night. She didn’t know if she could rely on the heating and on several bitter nights she had actually slept downstairs on the settee with a coal fire glowing in the grate. It looked as if this was going to be one of those nights tonight.

‘Good evening, Clementina,’ a voice came to her from across the room. A dark, rich, male voice that she recognised in the space of a jolting, stunned heartbeat.

‘What?’

Whirling in a panic, Clemmie almost flung herself towards the light switch, stabbing a finger at it in her haste to illuminate the room.

She already knew what she would see but her thoughts still reeled in shock as she came face to face with the reality. It was one thing to realise that Karim was there, in the house, silent and still, waiting for her. Quite another to confront the reality and see him sitting there, tall and proud, impossibly big, impossibly dark, ominously dangerous, his polished jet eyes fixed on her face. He was wearing another pair of jeans and a grey cashmere sweater that hugged the honed lines of his powerful chest. Simple, casual clothing but of such high quality that they looked out of place against the shabby surroundings, the worn upholstery of the armchair that seemed barely large enough to contain the lean strong frame of the powerful man who looked every bit the King’s son that he was.

Surprisingly, he had a sleek tablet computer in his hands, one that he touched briefly to switch it off before letting it drop down on to his knees.

‘Good evening, Clementina,’ he said again, turning on a smile that was barely there and then gone again, leaving an impression of threat, of danger, without a word having to be said. ‘I’m glad you made it back home.’

Was that doubt in his voice? Deliberate provocation to imply that this was the last place he expected to see her?

‘I said that I would!’ Clemmie protested sharply. ‘And I left a note.’

Karim nodded slowly, reaching out for a piece of paper that lay on the table beside his chair. Clemmie recognised the note she had left lying on the bed and she couldn’t suppress the faint shiver that skittered over her skin at the thought of what his mood must have been like when he had found it.

‘“I’ll be back tomorrow”,’ Karim read aloud, his accent making the words sound strangely alien. ‘“Promise”.’

‘I promised. And I kept my word.’

‘So you did.’

And she’d surprised him there, Karim admitted. He’d been quite prepared for her to have taken off for good, turning her back on everything she had promised and leaving the situation in the most dangerous and difficult stage possible. He’d even organised contingency plans to move into action if that happened. After all, he’d had emergency plans in place before he’d even started out on the journey to England and all it would have taken would have been a couple of phone calls, and the backup team could have moved into action. He’d almost made those phone calls in the first moments after he’d lost patience with her so-called ‘packing’ and headed upstairs to the bedroom to bring her down, ready or not. Then he’d seen the open window, felt the icy blast of wintry air sneaking through the gaping space. He’d heard the sound of her car’s engine picking up speed, heading away from the cottage. But then he’d seen the note on the bed.

‘You didn’t think that I would?’

‘To be honest—no.’

Putting aside the tablet, he uncoiled from the uncomfortable chair, stretching cramped muscles as he did so. The tracking device he’d left on her car had worked well. When he had known that she was heading home, he had settled down to wait, listening for the sound of her car coming up to the door. Then he’d stayed silent and still so as not to have her turning and running.


‘But then did you give me a reason to trust you?’

‘Um...no.’

Her eyes dropped away from him as she spoke and she actually chewed at her lower lip, white teeth biting down hard on the soft pink flesh in a way that made him wince inwardly. He wanted to reach out and put his hand to her mouth, stopping the nervous gesture, but instinct held him back though his fingers twitched in anticipation of the contact. He could already feel the heat of her body, the scent of her skin reaching him and the sizzle of electricity down his nerves was like a brand on his flesh. He felt hungry, wanting in a way that was darkly carnal, just barely under control.

‘I did run out on you.’

If he hadn’t already met her, if he didn’t know her voice, her scent and those stunning amber eyes, he might think that this was not Clementina but her double. An identical twin who had stepped in at the last minute to replace her wilder, less conventional sister. This woman was a cooler prospect altogether. Her long dark hair was caught into a shining tail that fell sleekly down her back. Her porcelain skin and golden eyes were free of any make-up—they didn’t need any—and the curling black lashes that framed her gaze were impossibly thick and lush without any cosmetic enhancement.

This woman was a princess—a potential queen through and through. In spite of the fact that her clothing was once more on the far side of casual, worn denim jeans with holes at the knees and frayed hems, and an elderly dark pink jumper that had shrunk in the wash or was deliberately designed to give a disturbing glimpse of peachy skin on a tight stomach and narrow waist when she moved. She was tall and elegant. And hellishly beautiful.

But then her eyes came up fast to meet his and there was the burn of defiance in their depths.

‘I did leave a note! And all I asked for was another twenty-four hours!’

The wilder Clementina was back as she tossed back her hair. He’d liked the wild Clementina better—hell, he’d loved the wild one even though he hadn’t been able to show it. She’d thrown him off balance when he was already tight on edge with all that had happened. The news about his father. About Nabil. About his security chief.

‘Would it have hurt so much to give me that?’ she challenged.

‘Not if I could have been sure that all you really wanted was those twenty-four hours.’

‘I said so, didn’t I? And you didn’t believe me.’

‘It depended on what you wanted to do with that extra day—where you planned to go. You ran away from the palace once before. How was I to know if you were setting off to some other hideaway or if you ever planned to come back.’

‘I said that I would!’ She turned on him a look from those brilliant eyes that was searingly scornful, even with a touch of pity threaded through it. ‘It must be hellish being you—being so suspicious of everyone. Is there anyone you can trust? Anyone you can believe in?’

I believed in Razi. In spite of himself, Karim couldn’t stop the thought from sliding into his mind. He had put his trust in his brother and look where that had got him. The worst failure of his life. Two deaths he hadn’t been able to prevent. A whole change of life, the old one turned inside out. A new role that he had never wanted. Even a bride he had almost had to marry out of duty, if that hadn’t been decided against.

‘I had no reason to believe in you.’

Dark memories made his words as cold as black ice, turning the atmosphere inside the room colder than the wintry scene outside.

‘And I had no way of knowing that you were simply heading for a birthday party in Lilac Close...’

That got through to her. If he had thought that her eyes were amazing before, they were stunning now, open wide in shock and questioning bewilderment. The knowledge that he had shaken her out of her defiance gave him some satisfaction in return for the way she had escaped yesterday, leaving him with his mission unaccomplished. She had lost all colour now, her cheeks parchment-white, in contrast to the rich dark fall of her hair, those impossible eyelashes.

‘How did you know?’ Her voice sounded rough and raw, as if it came from a painfully dry throat.

She really didn’t know who she was dealing with and the satisfaction at having wrong-footed her so completely was like a roar in his blood.

‘It was easy.’

She was still staring at him as he headed for the hall, wrenching open the door. The wild fury of the snowstorm made him wince. It had been nothing like as bad as this when he had driven back to the cottage this morning. There must have been inches—more—that had fallen while he had been inside, waiting for Clementina to arrive. No wonder the reception for his computer had been spotty to say the least.

Hunching his shoulders and ducking his head, he headed out towards where her tiny elderly car was parked, its tyres already halfway deep in the drifts.

Just what was he doing now? Clemmie asked herself, as something that was not just the cold but something more, something deeper and rawer than the icy blast of the wind from outside crept round her neck and shoulders, making her shiver miserably. It was something about Karim himself. About the way he had looked at her, the ice in his eyes, the blank emotionlessness of his tone. He had been sent to fetch her and that was the one thing he was concentrated on, like a hunting dog with the scent of its prey in its nostrils. He was never going to let her go.

But how had he known where she had been? And what did that mean for Harry’s safety? She could only stare in confusion as Karim dropped to his knees in the snow, reaching under the car at the front.

Jeans that were as tight a fit as that ought to be illegal. Especially over taut, muscled buttocks like this man possessed...

What was she thinking? Clemmie couldn’t believe that the thought had flashed into her mind. She had known from a very early age that she was never going to be able to choose her own partner, her own husband. And she had also known that keeping herself respectable, not letting any scandal seep out about her was essential to her reputation. So she had never had the freedom to enjoy the company of the opposite sex like other girls, and had never even let herself think about such things. Instead, she had focused on her studies, on the books that absorbed her, the lessons with her tutor. She had never been allowed to go out to clubs or the cinema like other girls and so had missed out on chatter about boys, about fashion, even music.

Only a few months of getting to know Mary Clendon, who was just six years older than her, had changed her viewpoint, and her knowledge, on a lot of things. But she hadn’t expected it to have changed to such an extent! She had never had thoughts like that about any man before.

And she had to start having them with the man who was the most unsuitable—the most inappropriate— person possible.

But Karim was getting up now, moving lithely from his position in the snow to stand upright, brushing briefly at the damp flakes still clinging to his knees before he headed back towards the cottage. The snow was whirling even more heavily, making it seem as if he was making his way through a thick white curtain, his face barely visible, his whole body just a black blur. This way, he should seem so very different. That strange, primitive, uncomfortable feeling that he seemed to spark off just by existing should be diluted by the curtain of snow.

The truth was that it was just the opposite. The contrast with the wild delicacy of the snow made him seem bigger, stronger, darker than ever, head down against the howling wind, and she felt her heart jump, skittering against her ribs as he loomed closer to the door. He came back in a rush to stride into the hall, shaking the snow from his big frame, his dark hair, like some wild animal reaching shelter from a storm.


‘Here.’

He tossed something at her, something so small that it was only instinct that had her hand coming out to stop it falling to the floor.

‘What?’

She stared down at the tiny metallic disk in blank confusion, not recognising it in any way.

‘What is this?’

She glanced up as she spoke, meeting that darkly searching gaze head-on. But then something in his expression, the set of that sensual mouth hit home to her and she knew—she just knew. And there had been that tablet computer he had been studying when she had walked in on him in the sitting room. She had briefly glimpsed something that had looked like a map as he had put it down; a blinking cursor that marked where someone—where she had been.

‘A tracking device!’

The words exploded from her in a blaze of indignant fury.

Did he know how this made her feel? She had been hunted as if she was a criminal and he had tracked her down. But why should he give a damn how she felt? It was why he was here; what he had come here to do.

‘It’s a bloody tracking device!’ She tossed the disk at him, not caring that it landed on his cheek.

He didn’t flinch; barely blinked and just a small brusque movement of his head sent the disk tumbling to the floor.

‘And don’t frown at me!’ she flung at him as she saw those straight black brows twitch together in disapproval at her tone or the vehemence of her words. ‘What’s one little swear word in comparison to this? Or don’t princesses swear in your country?’

Mistake. She knew it as she saw his expression change, his mouth tighten.

‘So you remember that you are a princess,’ he declared icily. ‘Soon to be a queen.’

Every word was tightly enunciated, particularly the titles. He couldn’t have made the atmosphere any colder if he’d tried and at that moment a freezing flurry of snow whirled in through the open door, making Clemmie shiver convulsively. With a single backward kick of one booted foot, Karim slammed the door shut and the sudden silence and stillness was unnerving. There was so little space in the small hallway and he seemed bigger, stronger than ever before. The scent of his skin coiled round her senses like some intoxicating drug, making her mouth dry, her head spin.

‘And you claimed that you were a prince—Crown Prince, if I remember rightly.’

A crown prince who knew about such security devices. If he was the prince he claimed to be. A sudden rush of apprehension hit home, the room seeming to swing round her on a wave of near panic. What if he had lied all the time? If he was never who he claimed to be?

Had she done something very stupid?

He was between her and the door this time. Even if she flattened herself against the wall, there was no way he would let her squeeze past. He would grab her in an instant, hold her tight...

Shockingly, the fear that came with that thought was blended with an unholy flash of something that had no place in this situation at all. How could she feel a heated excitement at imagining those strong hands coming out, fastening around her arms, pulling her close...?

Suddenly she felt overdressed in the angora jumper. It really was far too warm in here. Or was that heat coming from inside her rather than the outside?

‘I am exactly who I said I am.’ The cold flicker of rich black eyelashes dismissed her question as unimportant.

‘Then how do you know about such things?’ Clemmie nodded towards the small disk that still lay on the floor, pushing at it with the toe of one leather boot. ‘Is that the sort of hobby that crown princes have nowadays?’

‘I wasn’t always the Crown Prince. I had a brother. Razi.’

Had. That took away the heat in her blood, and the bleakness of his eyes made her heart twist.

‘What happened?’ She had to force the words out because the answer to them was so obvious.

‘He died.’ Cold and desolate and blunt as a hammer.

‘Oh, no...’ Having just begun to get to know Harry, she couldn’t imagine how it would feel to lose a brother in such a shocking way. ‘I’m sorry.’

It was instinctive to reach out a hand to him, but at the same time a brutal sense of self-preservation had her freezing, not having made the connection, when his iced eyes dropped to watch her and then flicked back up to her face, his expression blank and shuttered off.

‘I was a security expert—in charge of defence and particularly my brother’s safety.’

‘But he died—so you failed him?’

Nerves made her say it. Nerves that tightened to screaming pitch when she saw the dark cloud of a scowl that distorted his stunning features, the white lines etched round his nose and mouth.

‘He died in a car crash—it was his own driving that caused the accident.’

And that was all he was going to say on the subject, though she was sure there was more. There had to be more. It was hidden behind the tightly clenched jaw, the skin that was drawn too tight over powerfully carved facial bones. Don’t ask—every line of his expression screamed it without words.

‘I...’ Clemmie began but Karim was looking at his watch and frowning in a very different way.

‘It’s time we were on our way.’

‘But—I need to pack.’

‘And you think I am going to fall for that again?’ His scorn scoured off a much needed protective layer of her skin. ‘You have your overnight bag already.’ A nod of his head indicated where the bag still lay where she had dropped it as she had come through the door. ‘Anything else you might need will be provided on the way. Nabil has already sent clothes for his princess. They will be on the plane, waiting for you there.’

And Clemmie could just imagine what sort of clothing that would be. Traditional costumes, formal and controlled, covering almost every inch of her body. The days of the freedom of tee shirts and jeans, her hair flying loose, were over. Already, and well before she was ready, the doors of the palace of Rhastaan were closing around her.

‘I see.’

There was no point in arguing. Karim was not likely to yield on this or on any other point. She might as well beat her fists against the rigid stone of the cottage walls as beg him to give her any more time.

‘Then let’s get out of here.’

‘You’ll have to move your car first,’ Karim told her. ‘Mine is parked round the back and you’re blocking me in. On second thoughts...’ He reached for the car key that she had tossed on to the small table in the hall. ‘I’ll drive—and don’t even think about running off.’

‘I wouldn’t! I only went...’ Her voice died away. Did he know why she had gone or just where she had gone? ‘I only asked for twenty-four hours—and I said I’d be back. I am back and I’m not planning on running off. You have to believe me.’

Strangely, he did, Karim admitted—today, at least. Yesterday he’d had a very different opinion of her. But yesterday he’d been angry, tense, too much to think of and collecting Nabil’s errant bride being one more thing he didn’t want on his shoulders. His father’s heart problems and the suspicion that they had been brought on by the stress of the loss of his eldest son and heir had been the last straw. He couldn’t get away from the fact that if he had refused to give in to Razi’s demand that he have no security detail, his brother might still be here.

Today he felt differently. And it wasn’t just because she had come back when she’d said. This new, calmer, dignified Clementina was a very different prospect from the wild, defiant creature who had opened the door to him yesterday and had sneaked out of the house at the first opportunity.


But some instinct had made him give her the twenty-four hours she had asked for. The tracking device had shown that she was at Lilac Close. A few discreet enquiries had revealed that she was friends with the family who lived there. Who were holding a birthday party for their young son. He’d decided to give her the chance and wait.

He was surprisingly glad that he had. And when the door had opened and she’d walked in something had changed inside him. Something unexpected and unsettling. Something he didn’t want to take out and face. Not when he had to get this mission completed and one princess delivered to her prospective bridegroom, putting his father’s mind at rest on this at least.

He’d already been delayed twenty-four hours too long. It was time they were on the road and heading out of here.

There was no chance of that, Karim realised only a very short time later. He’d already had doubts when he went outside again. Yet more snow had piled up around Clementina’s car. The wheels were half hidden under the drifting snow, the path to the road had been obliterated, and the garden was a white-out. The vehicle was going to be very little use in these conditions. It was lucky he had his four-wheel drive in the yard at the back of the house. If he could only get it on to the road.

But the little car’s engine refused to start. Every time he turned the key in the ignition there was a dreadful grating, rasping noise that sounded as if the elderly car was breathing its last. It choked and spluttered—and died with a shudder. One that made him curse and slam his hands down on the steering wheel in exasperation.

‘Is there a problem?’ Clementina had come out of the house and was leaning down to the window, frowning in concern.

‘You could say that.’ Once more he tried turning the key. There wasn’t even a groan from the engine. ‘This car isn’t going anywhere today—tonight,’ he amended, glaring up at the darkening sky.

‘Perhaps if I steered and you pushed...’

‘We could try.’

‘OK then.’ She made a move to hurry out of the way of the opening car door. ‘Let me into the driver’s seat and I’ll... Oh!’

The sentence broke off on a sharp cry of distress as she stepped on a patch of ice hidden under the snow. With a yelp, she fought to stay upright, one leg going one way, the other heading in the opposite direction. Her foot twisted under her, throwing her completely off balance and she fell headlong, landing heavily in a deep snowdrift.