Cinderella and the Sheikh

chapter Ten



"You are chewing your lipstick off again." Even Rasyn's warm breath on her ear couldn't distract her from the butterflies in her stomach as they sat in the formal reception chamber. Today, the insects seemed to have teeth and claws as they batted around inside her.

She nodded and pressed her lips together. As soon as they were still, her fingers began to twiddle. When she clasped her hands tightly, her foot began to bounce.

Rasyn looked as handsome as ever in a black suit and silver-gray tie, and as relaxed. Too bad none of his ease was wearing off on her. She'd barely slept, eaten nothing, and couldn't stop her nervous jiggling, which was probably making wrinkles in her conservatively cut blue silk dress.

All the air in her chest escaped in a sigh. She was about to ask Rasyn the time when the massive wooden door swung open.

Prince Hani? Libby shot to her feet. Rasyn followed at a more casual pace.

But Imaran strode in, wearing a military dress uniform, two lines of medals on his chest. Libby sighed again, and sat.

"Cousin." Rasyn crossed the room to greet Imaran with the customary cheek-kisses. "Who is this?"

She hadn't even noticed the close-shaven, black-uniformed man who followed at Imaran's shoulder.

"Surely you have met Sarmad Adish. Chief of Abbas Surété.

Rasyn greeted the man with an easy laugh. "I doubt any of us are in danger from Prince Hani."

Imaran's smile didn't reach his eyes. "The chief is here in case His Highness wants to press charges against Miss Fay."

The words slashed through her like an ice storm. She couldn't seem to blink as she watched Rasyn's eyes narrow.

"You can not be serious." His level tone stilled the air.

"Deadly," Imaran countered.

"I will not allow it."

"Then consider the alternative. If His Highness wants to arrest her, we can not stop it without causing a diplomatic incident. We would have to allow him to take her to Damali. This way we can place her under house arrest and commute the sentence to exile. Unless you want to see her in a Damali public prison."

She hugged her arms to her chest. Some part of her was grateful for Imaran's cool analysis of the situation. The rest of her shivered.

"He's right," she said, feeling like her lips were turning blue.

Rasyn's midnight eyes flashed as he turned to her. "Never."

She knew she should go to him, but if she took a step, her legs would fold under her. She held out a hand. Reading the signal, Rasyn came and took it. She clung to his grasp as if trying to absorb his strength.

"Don't let them take me to Damali." She tried to raise her voice above a whisper—and failed.

"I will not permit anyone to hurt you."

His confidence made her stand a little straighter. For once, she thanked heaven for the way he seemed to be able to charm anyone into anything. Maybe he'd be able to charm her out of this mess.

Of course, if he'd left her in New York... She shrugged away that dangerous thought. No point in blaming Rasyn. The past couldn’t be changed now.

She loosened her grip on his hand, wishing she could hang on, but remembering that it wasn't appropriate for an unmarried couple to touch in public.

Rasyn didn’t let go. "You are mine now. Where you go, I go."

"'Yours now?'" What did he mean by—

The swinging of the intricately carved wooden door interrupted her thoughts. Libby's empty stomach churned in acidic waves.

His Highness, Prince Hani of Damali, walked in, his hands clasped behind his stiff back, the pleat of his dark trousers knife-straight. At the elderly monarch's shoulder hovered a hawk-nosed servant. The significant bulge under his arm made Libby go cold.

"Your Highness." Imaran bowed.

The prince ignored him and fixed his gaze on Libby. The moment of truth. At her side, Rasyn stood tall. All the casual easiness he'd shown since coming to Abbas had vanished. Instead, his chin lifted in a proud tilt.

She squared her shoulders and met Prince Hani's gaze head-on. She would accept whatever punishment was necessary, but she was going to do it with the dignity that Rasyn's faith in her deserved.

Before the prince could speak, Rasyn did. "Your Highness, on my honor, I apologize for the unintentional injury that has been caused. I will pay any price you demand, but I cannot permit any harm to come to my wife."

If Rasyn's almost-arrogant tone had surprised her, his last words nearly knocked her to the floor.

"Your wife?" Prince Hani raised a salt-and-pepper eyebrow.

She wrenched her hand out of Rasyn's grip. Protecting her was one thing, but sabotaging his shot at the throne was another. She stepped toward the prince, putting distance between herself and Rasyn. "It's not true, Your Highness."

"You do not know our customs," Rasyn said to her. "So I will forgive you for calling your husband a liar in public."

He reached into his breast pocket with one elegant hand. A hand, she noticed, with a gold ring on the third finger. Tingles of dread tripped down her spine as she stared at the light glinting off the ring while he drew out a folded paper and handed it to the prince.

The paper she'd signed in the desert. For her visa, Rasyn had said. No, wait. He hadn't said that. Not exactly...

"Imaran will be the next leader of Abbas," Rasyn continued, his tone steady. "You need never see us again."

No. No. Her closed throat wouldn’t let her get the words out.

Prince Hani scowled down at the document. "In Damali, this would not be recognized. In civilized countries, a witness must confirm the signature."

Rasyn didn't flinch, or even show irritation at the implied insult. "Abbas clings to the old ways in some things. The marriage is legal here. Nothing else matters."

Libby went numb. Nothing else matters. Other countries didn't matter. Prince Hani's opinion didn't matter. Neither did an insignificant little thing like her consent.

Even through the haze that dulled her senses, Libby noticed the veins in Imaran's neck popping out. "Cousin, are you insane? Why would you marry her? She is nothing. And she will cost you everything."

To her surprise, it was Prince Hani who spoke. "Can't you guess? He loves her. I would have done no less for my Sanurah."

"Then you understand," Rasyn said.

From the tightness of his lips, Imaran didn't. He glared at her with an evil-eyed stare.

"I would speak to your wife," Prince Hani said.

Rasyn hesitated for a moment, then moved aside. She found herself looking up into Prince Hani's face. Lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, lending him an ageless wisdom. Close up, she also saw deep purple circles, a sign that sleep hadn't been easy for him lately. Concern for his wife seemed to weigh him down.

All was her fault. "I'm sorry," she said.

Bracing herself, she closed her eyes and raised her wrists in front of her, offering them for the click of chilly metal handcuffs.

But it didn't come. Instead, she felt herself being pulled into Prince Hani's embrace. The air whooshed out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and confused.

It was a second before she could breathe again. "Your Highness?"

The prince kept his hands on her shoulders. His jaw tightened, as if he were trying his best to swallow back some undignified emotion. "Hafida, you must call me 'idd' now—'grandfather'."

He heard a hiss, like air being sucked in through clenched teeth. Imaran. His face was petrified in a blank mask.

But it was Rasyn's expression that surprised her; there was something dark and disapproving in his black gaze. What had she done wrong?

"I don't understand," she said.

Prince Hani took her hand in both of his. His strong and gentle grip reassured her. "Then I will explain. The best doctors in Damali tell me that if my Sanurah had taken a single sip of that soup, she would be dead now. I am far from angry. For the service you've given me, I consider you a granddaughter. Anything I own is yours. And all the world will know it."

Libby struggled to process this new information.

His Highness twitched one finger, and the burly guard reached into his jacket—straight for the threatening bulge there. Instead of a weapon, he removed a velvet box.

Prince Hani snapped it open. Fiery jewels winked with dancing light. Scarlet rubies mingled with ice-white diamonds on a heavy-looking necklace and matching drop earrings. They would make any woman look truly regal.

Her mind reeled as he pressed the jewels into her stiff fingers.

"These are for me?"

"This is only the beginning of my gifts to you, hafida."

"I can't take these." She thrust the box back at him, noticing that her hands shook with the effort. "All I did was stand up too quickly. It was an accident."

Prince Hani gripped her shoulders, making her straighten. "It was the hand of heaven." His dark eyes gleamed with emotion. "Just as it was the hand of heaven that led you to your husband."

She looked over her shoulder at the man who was now her husband—at least within the borders of Abbas. For an instant, she imagined she caught an angry scowl on his handsome face—but then it was gone, replaced by the charming smile she knew so well.