to that answer? she wondered grimly. This had to be a joke. A cruel bit of humor that had gone awry. Marriage? To her? Sure. Princes fell in love with their secretaries every day. “We’re not in some movie from the forties,” she said angrily. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, making sure she remained covered by the sheet and blanket. “I don’t think this is funny.”
“Nor do I,” he said coolly.
Her eyes burned. She realized she was close to crying—probably because there was a part of her that wanted to believe it was all true. She’d never allowed herself the fantasy of imagining Khalil caring about her. It was too ridiculous to stand. But he wasn’t a heartless man; at least she’d never seen proof of that. So why would he act this way now?
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“It’s perfectly clear,” he insisted. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. You are intelligent, reliable, honorable and healthy. You have all the qualities I require in a wife. Until last night, you were a virgin. I am Prince Khalil Khan and I do not dishonor women.”
This was twisted even for him, she thought, trying to come to grips with what was happening to her. “You can’t mean that. You don’t really want to marry me.”
“Why not?”
There were probably forty-seven thousand reasons. Unfortunately she couldn’t come up with one right now. She shrugged and made a vague movement with her hand. “Because.”
“Ah, that makes it all clear.”
He returned to the bed and settled next to her, then he took one of her hands in his. “What are you afraid of?”
She searched his gaze, wondering if she really dared to speak the truth. But as she couldn’t think of anything else to say, she didn’t have much choice. “That this is all a game to you. If it is, I don’t understand the rules, and I know I’m going to get hurt. I don’t want that.” The truth was she wasn’t sure she would survive more heartache right now, thank you very much. She would prefer to be left alone until she recovered her equilibrium.
He reached toward her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then touched her face. “I understand,” he told her, even though he couldn’t possibly. “You want to believe me, but you’re afraid. What happened to my lovely desert wildcat?”
“She had another appointment this morning and couldn’t be with us.”
He flashed her a smile. He hadn’t showered or shaved yet, and stubble darkened his jaw. He looked rugged and dangerous and she shivered at the thought of them being intimate again.
“I adore you,” he said and squeezed her fingers. “I know that this has happened very quickly, but that doesn’t make the experience any less valid. Trust me. More importantly, trust yourself, sweet Dora.” He leaned close. “I want you, in my bed and in my world. Marry me. Come back with me to El Bahar. Help me with my work. Help me change the world that is my country. You see, I must go back, but I’m not sure I can if you refuse to accompany me.”
His words fell like rain in the desert. She soaked up every syllable, drank in the sounds, then let them blossom deep inside of her. Oh how she longed to believe him. Could this be happening? Could someone like her really be so very fortunate?
She stared at him as if the truth lay in his handsome features. From the beginning he’d been autocratic and annoying, and he’d worked her hard, but he’d never been cruel. He’d never lied. She’d listened to him while he dealt with both customers and suppliers. He was tough, but honest. He had a moral code. He wasn’t Gerald.
That was what it came down to, she thought. Her fear that like Gerald, he was using her to get something he wanted. Except he was a prince and what on earth could he want that she could give him? She was an unemployed, nearly middle-aged spinster with a few office skills. And he…he was Khalil Khan, prince of El Bahar. In her heart she’d always known that Gerald was much less than she wanted him to be. Something about Khalil made her think he was so much more.
Before she realized what he was doing, he’d taken her in his arms, then stretched her out on the mattress. He reached under the covers and began to stroke her belly.
“Marry me,” he murmured against her neck. “Be my wife. Come home with me. Have my sons. I will make you a princess. My sweet, lovely Dora.”
It was impossible to think while his fingers tickled her ribs, then moved higher to her breasts. He circled the full curves, then teased her nipples. She gasped as pleasure filled her, and her woman’s place dampened in anticipation of his possession.
“Khalil,” she breathed.
“Yes,” he told her. “Want me, need me, as I have wanted and needed you. Believe in me. Life has just offered you a great prize. Don’t be afraid. This once, reach out and grab it with both hands. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.”
Of all the things he’d said to her, the last statement was the one that got through. She knew all about regrets. She’d lived with them all her life. She regretted her unhappy childhood, her initial college experience, her lack of relationships through her twenties, her relationship—if she could call it that—with Gerald. So many regrets. And not one of them was about something she’d done. She didn’t regret her actions, just her inactions.
Were her dreams at last coming true?
“Marry me,” he urged, still kissing her neck and her throat. “Say yes.”
She took a deep breath. Did she want to keep living with regret or did she want to take a chance? She bit her lower lip, then closed her eyes and exhaled a single word.
“Yes.”
Khalil sat up. “I knew I could make you see sense. Good.”
He bounded to his feet, then reached down and pulled her to hers. Before she had a chance to register her nakedness or be embarrassed, he stepped behind her and gave her a gentle push toward the bathroom.
“Go ahead and shower. There’s much to be done before the wedding. I’ll meet you in the dining room in twenty minutes.”
With that, he was gone. Dora stared after him. Somehow that was not the response she’d expected when she’d agreed to marry Khalil. Married? She shook her head. None of this was really happening. Obviously she was caught up in a weird dream or something. Or maybe she’d hit her head in the night. Either way, she might as well shower, if only to get on with the dream and see what would happen next.
The wedding party consisted of Khalil, Dora, a justice of the peace and the two bodyguards who served as witnesses. Dora glanced around the large parlor in the beautiful hotel suite and told herself that the management had worked a miracle in a very short period of time.
White roses and baby’s breath had been woven through a narrow wooden arch. Large, pale pink urns filled with white roses, lilies and orchids sat on squat tables, which formed a makeshift center aisle in the room. She and Khalil stood on a long, white cloth that had been tacked down from the entrance of the room to the edge of the archway, and soft music played over the suite’s sound system.
Dora clutched her bouquet of exotic flowers more firmly in her hands and told herself that considering there had been less than twelve hours to pull it all together, things had gone surprisingly well. Promptly at two the boutique had delivered a half-dozen dresses for her to look at. She’d chosen a simple ivory lace gown that looked like something from the 1920s. She’d managed to pull her shoulder-length hair up into a French twist so that the delicate pearl earrings Khalil had given her at lunch were visible.
She knew she looked pretty good. Khalil was handsome and confident in his dark suit. Under the circumstances, they were doing well. And that was the problem. She wasn’t comfortable with the circumstances, nor could she stop shaking. Even now, with the judge talking about sickness and health, she felt as if she were still