Desert Rogues Part 2 (72 page)

 

The luxurious jet raced down the runway. Daphne leaned back in the leather seat and closed her eyes. While she doubted she would sleep, she didn't want to watch as Bahania disappeared behind her.

Faster and faster until that moment just before the wheels lifted off. Then the jet suddenly slowed and sharply turned.

“Everything's fine, Your Highness,” the pilot said over the intercom. “A signal light came on to tell us the cargo door isn't closed tight. We need to return to the hangar. It will only take a couple of minutes to fix.”

She nodded her agreement, then realized the man couldn't see her. “Thanks for letting me know,” she said as she pushed the intercom button on the console beside her seat.

She flipped through the stack of magazines left for her and picked out one on interior design. When she returned to Chicago, she either had to join another practice or go out on her own. That had been her plan when she'd left.

Maybe a change in cities would be nice. She'd never lived in the South or the West. She could go to Florida, or perhaps Texas.

She glanced out the window and saw several uniformed crewmen rushing around the plane. Then the main door opened. Daphne looked up in time to see a tall, handsome, imperious man striding on board.

Her heart took a nosedive for her toes. Rational thought left her as hope—foolish hope—bubbled in her stomach.

Murat took the seat opposite hers and leaned toward her.

“How could you leave without telling me you love me?” he demanded.

“I…I didn't think you'd want to know.”

He scowled. “Of course I want to know that my wife loves me. It changes everything.”

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but drink in the sight of him.

“You told me to leave,” she reminded him.

“I thought you were anxious to be gone.” He glared at her. “This is your fault for not confessing your feelings.” His expression softened. “I am happy to know my love is returned.”

She couldn't have been more surprised if he'd told her he was a space alien.

“You l-love me?” she asked breathlessly.

“With all my heart and every part of my being.” He took her hands in his. “Ah, my sweet wife. When I realized how badly I had treated you, I did not know how to atone for what I had done. Setting you free seemed only right, even though it was more painful than cutting off my arm. When you accepted my decision without saying anything, I thought you did not care about me.”

“I was too shocked to speak,” she admitted. “Oh, Murat, I do love you. I have for a long time. Maybe for the past ten years. I'm not sure.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You are a part of me. You are the one I wish to be with for always. I want you to share in my country, my history. I love you, Daphne.”

She wasn't sure if he pulled her close or she made the first move. Suddenly she was in his arms and he was kissing her as if his life depended on her embrace.

She clung to him, needing him more than she'd ever needed anyone ever.

He pulled back. “But if you must leave, I will let you,” he said.

She couldn't believe it. “But you said—”

He smiled. “You may go, but I am coming with you. I will be next to you always.”

She laughed. “I don't want to go anywhere. I love Bahania and I love you.”

Right there, in the walkway of a jet, Crown Prince Murat of Bahania dropped to one knee.

“Then stay with me. Be my wife, the mother of my children. Love me, grow old with me and allow me to spend the rest of my life proving how important you are to me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “For always.”

He stood and reached into his jacket pocket. When he withdrew a ring, she started to shake. Then she realized he wasn't holding the diamond band he'd given her after their marriage. Instead he held a familiar and treasured engagement ring—the one she'd left behind ten years ago.

“My ring,” she said breathlessly. “You kept it all this time.”

“Yes. In a safe place. I was never sure why, until now. I know I was keeping it for you to wear again.” He slid on the ring, then kissed her.

Lost in the passion of his body pressing against hers, she barely heard the crackle of the intercom.

“Prince Murat?” It was the pilot. “Sir, are we still going to America?”

“No,” Murat said into the intercom. He sank onto a chair and pulled Daphne onto his lap. “We are not.”

“Are we going anywhere?”

Murat leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Do you have any pressing engagements for the rest of the afternoon?”

She shifted so she could straddle him. “What did you have in mind?”

He chuckled, then pressed the intercom button again. “Once around the country.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which gives us how long?” she asked.

He reached for the buttons on her blouse.

“A lifetime, my love. A lifetime.”

by Susan Mallery

Published by Silhouette Books

America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance

“I
wondered if you were currently looking for a mistress,” Kiley Hendrick said quietly.

Prince Rafiq of Lucia-Serrat stared at the woman sitting across from him. He had thought the biggest surprise of his Monday had been to find Kiley at her desk that morning, instead of on her honeymoon.

He had been wrong.

“You speak of yourself?” he asked.

She nodded, keeping her gaze firmly on the pad of paper she clutched on her lap.

He hadn't seen his secretary in five days. She'd taken off part of the previous week to prepare for her impending marriage. “I take it the wedding on Saturday was not a success,” he said.

“There was no wedding.” She raised her head and stared directly at him. “Eric and I are no longer together.”

“I see.”

He allowed his gaze to return to her tightly clenched hands and saw that the modest diamond engagement ring was no longer on her left hand. A thin indentation on her pale skin was the only proof it had existed at all.

“I know that you are currently between, ah, women,” she said and blushed. “That is, I sent the final gifts and letter so I thought that you had broken up.” She pressed her lips together as if not sure how to continue.

“I am no longer seeing Carmen,” he offered helpfully.

Kiley nodded. “Yes. I thought so. And while I know you usually have one or two candidates waiting in the wings, I wondered if you would consider me. Even though I'm not your usual type.”

He had a type? “Meaning?”

She released her death grip on her pad of paper and shifted in her seat. “Glamorous. Beautiful. Sophisticated. I'm okay looking, but not in their league. But you've only seen me in work clothes. I clean up pretty well. I'm smart, I have a sense of humor.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “I've never had a conversation like this. I don't know what you're looking for when you pick a woman for, um, well, that.”

“My bed?”

The blush returned. She swallowed but didn't look away. “Right. Your bed.”

Rafiq had not discussed things so openly before, either. He leaned back in his chair and considered what he looked for in a mistress.

“Obviously some physical beauty,” he said, more to himself than her. “But that is less important than one might think. Intelligence and humor are required. Not every waking moment is spent making love. There is plenty of time for conversation.”

He thought of Carmen's shrill demands. “An even temper would be desirable.”

“You've known me for two years,” Kiley reminded him. “I've never gotten angry.”

“Agreed.” She had not. She was efficient, organized and very much responsible for the ease with which his workday progressed. But his mistress?

While Kiley was attractive and he would admit to finding pleasure in watching her move, he had never considered that more than a bonus. Beautiful, sensual women were easy to find. An excellent assistant was not.

The most sensible course was to politely thank her for the offer, then refuse the invitation. He would—

“There will be advantages,” she said, as if trying to convince him. “I understand your work. We can discuss it, if you'd like. Plus I won't mind if you have to stay at the office late.”

“Most likely you will be working late with me,” he said, wondering why this was so important to her. What had pushed the normally reserved Kiley to make such an outrageous—for her, at least—request?

“Yes, there is that.” She cleared her throat. “I don't know what else to say. I just hope you'll consider me.”

He had never been approached so openly by a woman intent on joining him in his bed. He would have bet a considerable part of his fortune that she was not the type to be interested in an affair. He still believed that.

“Why do you want to do this?” he asked.

Kiley returned her attention to him. Her dark-blue eyes flashed with pain. “Revenge.”

“A noble motive. I assume this revenge is because of your fiancé?”

“Yes. Eric.”

She paused, as if considering how much to tell him. Rafiq could guess the basic scenario, but he wanted to hear it from her. He wanted to gauge her emotions and her intent.

While she chose her words, he looked at her. Really looked—not at the ever-present secretary who anticipated his needs and made his life flow pleasantly, but at the woman.

She was of average height—perhaps five foot four or five inches. Her hair, worn short and layered, was the color of gold. Or perhaps the north-shore beaches of Lucia-Serrat at sunset. Her large eyes dominated her face. He'd noticed how the deep blue darkened or lightened with her mood. He had always been able to tell if she was annoyed with him.

She was delicately built, small-boned, with curves that intrigued him. Now he took in the slight swell of her breasts and the shape of her calves below the hem of her knee-length skirt.

She was attractive, he thought. He found her easy to be with. She did not scream or annoy him. Like every other woman of his acquaintance, she wanted something from him. Unlike the others, she had been honest from the first.

But did he want her in his bed?

“He cheated,” Kiley said at last, obviously fighting tears. “I'm sure you guessed that. He spared me the cliché of the groom sleeping with the bride's maid-of-honor-slash-best friend, but he more than made up for it in other ways. He had sex with most of the women in his law school class, his neighbors, my neighbor, along with countless others. He propositioned two of my friends. At the time, they tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen. Talk about stupid.”

She spoke lightly, as if the words had no meaning. But he heard the pain in her voice and saw it in her eyes.

“You did not believe them?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I was fooled right up until last Friday morning when I walked in on him and a woman from his study group.” She blinked rapidly as if holding in tears. “That wasn't even the worst of it. He c-came after me and told me it didn't mean anything.” She paused to swallow, the tears closer to the surface now. “He never was very original. Then he told me that he was doing it
for
me. That he wanted to treat me with reverence and respect. So he kept that side of himself away from me.”

She looked at Rafiq. “My idea of loving someone, of feeling reverence, isn't to cheat on her over and over again.”

“You canceled the wedding.” If Rafiq had planned to attend, he would have known before now. But an out-of-town commitment had caused him to send his regrets.

“Eric was shocked, if you can believe it,” Kiley said. “He actually thought I'd still go through with it because it was the next day and we had 250 people coming. Everything was paid for. But I wouldn't do it. I loved him and I thought he loved me and I was wrong. Getting married at that point would only make things worse. So I canceled.”

She dropped her head and stared at the pad of paper on her lap. “My mom and I made phone calls. We couldn't get everyone, so I went to the church the next morning and told them as they arrived.” She took a deep breath. “It was horrible.”

“You? Not Eric?”

She shook her head. “He took the tickets for our honeymoon in Hawaii and left with his flavor of the week. I hope they get rashes. And stung by jellyfish.”

Her courage surprised him. She could easily have sent a family member to stand at the church, but she'd done it herself.

“Why me?” he asked.

For the first time since walking into his office, a smile tugged at her lips. “You're a prince, Rafiq. That makes you the best candidate around.”

“Ah. I see.” He could discern out the rest of it. “Eric has accepted a job with the law firm I use. Therefore he will attend some of the same functions I do. As my mistress, you would go with me.”

“Exactly. Eric doesn't like you,” she added. “I think he's jealous. He's tried to get me to quit a few times, but I refused. He would talk about the women in your life as if they were sluts or something but I'm starting to believe he was envious. He wants what you have. Or maybe he wants to be you. I don't know and I don't care. But I'm convinced that my being your mistress will destroy him.”

Rafiq considered her words. He had only met Kiley's fiancé one or two times. He'd never formed an opinion of the man until now.

“Do you want him destroyed?” he asked.

She nodded. “Then I want to walk away and forget he ever existed.” She looked at him. “There's another reason I came to you. You're a good man. You'd never treat a woman the way Eric treated me. You'd simply end things without any of the lies.”

Her assessment of his character was interesting. He could name twenty people who would do their best to convince her he was the biggest bastard on the planet. But she was also right—he'd never lied to a woman. He'd never stooped to trickery or deception.

Was he considering her offer? Did he want Kiley as his mistress? He wouldn't mind her in his bed, despite the complications. He liked her. The proposition had possibilities.

“There are logistics to be considered,” he said. “If we decide to move forward with this.”

They were discussing things so calmly, Kiley thought, more than a little amazed by the turn of events. She was willing to admit she was still emotionally numb from the shock of Eric's betrayal, but even as she'd imagined a thousand ways this conversation could go, she'd never thought it would be so rational. Maybe this sort of thing happened to Rafiq all the time, but it was a definite first for her. Still, she was determined. She could forgive a lot of things, but not betrayal on that level. Not ever.

To think that Eric had tried to make her feel guilty about enjoying her job with Rafiq when Eric had been cheating on
her.
She'd been so careful not to talk about her boss and she'd always gone out of her way to reassure Eric. Just the thought of it made her want to throw something.

He had even complained about Rafiq's generous gift of Baccarat crystal. A gift she currently had boxed up in her office to return to her boss.

“You're the expert,” she told him. “You're going to have to come up with the list.”

He smiled. “Of course. First there is the matter of what the relationship would entail.”

Okay, this might be the first time she'd ever applied to be a mistress, but she was fairly sure the ground rules were simple.

“I thought it would be about sex,” she said, then wished she hadn't as his dark eyebrows rose slightly.

“Sexual accessibility is assumed,” he told her. “You would be as available as I wished and vice versa.”

He would be available to her? Interesting thought. Not that she could imagine herself picking up the phone and telling him to get naked and get ready.

“There is also the matter of fidelity,” he continued. “During our time together, there are to be no other men in your life and no other women in mine.”

“That one's easy,” she said. “I'm not the unfaithful type.”

“Consider carefully,” Rafiq said. “The human heart is a contrary organ. Your goal is to punish Eric and make him jealous. During the course of our affair, he could try to win you back. By the terms of this agreement, that would not be allowed.”

“You don't have to worry about that. There is nothing Eric can ever say or do to make me think of him as anything but a lying worm.”

Rafiq didn't look convinced. Kiley knew it didn't matter what he thought. Eric was
her
problem. She could still feel the disbelief that had flooded her when she'd walked into his apartment. He'd given her the key several weeks ago but she'd never used it. Somehow it hadn't felt right. But on the day before their marriage, she'd decided to pay him an unexpected visit and take him breakfast. Only, she had been the one to get the surprise.

She was still in shock. It had been three days, and the truth of what had happened had barely begun to sink in. Part of her was glad. She wasn't looking forward to the moment when the pain hit full force.

“There is also the matter of us working together,” Rafiq said. “You are too efficient for me to let go.”

“That's fine. I want to keep working. I need to pay my parents back for all the money they spent on the wedding. I have most of it already. You pay me very well and I've been saving so Eric and I could have a down payment for a house. This is Los Angeles and real estate is expensive so I've been putting aside every penny I can. I wanted to give them all of that, but they wouldn't let me. They think I should buy a condo. Maybe they're right. I just…”

She realized she was rambling. “Sorry. The point is, I need the money.”

Rafiq stared at her.

“What?” she asked, carefully running her tongue over her teeth to see if she'd gotten a piece of food caught in them.