“Don’t go there, little brother,” Malik warned him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jamal could not believe a mere woman had his imperious brother running scared. He didn’t remember much about Heidi McKinley. She’d been around on and off most of his life. Something about her grandfather and the king being friends. “She’s a child. Father only pays attention to her because he never had any daughters.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve been gone during her most recent visits. She’s not a child anymore. She’s in her twenties. Grandmother always sits her next to me. As if I’m going to suddenly fall in love with her and want to marry her.” Malik stilled. “Do you think that’s it? Are they trying to arrange a match?”
“I hope not for your sake,” Jamal said honestly. “Especially not if she’s as horrible as you say.”
“She’s worse. A prim and proper virgin who knows too much about everything. She’s studied El Baharian history and likes to talk about it endlessly. Her goal in life is to translate texts, if you can believe it.”
He could not. “Is she unattractive?”
Malik hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“You have to know. You’ve seen her.”
“Yes, but it’s not that simple. She wears these clothes.”
Jamal didn’t remember ever seeing his brother this disconcerted—and by a woman, no less. “Most females wear clothes. It’s tragic but true.”
“I don’t mean that,” Malik told him. “Her clothes are different. I’d say she dresses like a nun, but I don’t want to insult the fashion sense of the holy sisters. She’s fussy and wears high collars and glasses. She has her hair in a bun.” He threw up his hands. “Heidi McKinley is a dried-up, old spinster whom I will never sit next to again.”
Jamal leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “I must see this frightening female who has the crown prince running scared.”
Malik rose to his feet and reached into his trouser pocket. “You, my brother, are the most successful with the ladies, but even you won’t be able to seduce this one. Fifty dollars says you can’t make the Prune Princess crack a smile at dinner.”
Jamal rose to his feet as well. He leaned forward and pressed his hands against the desk. “I have a better bet. Your new Ferrari for a week.”
“In your dreams,” Malik scoffed.
“Your new Ferrari for a week,” he repeated, ignoring Malik. “If I kiss her tonight.”
Malik’s eyebrows drew together. “If you don’t, I get your new stallion to cover six of my mares.” He grinned. “One for each day of the week with Sunday to rest, of course.”
Jamal considered. The mysterious Heidi McKinley must be formidable indeed if his brother was willing to consider putting his new car on the line. But Jamal wasn’t concerned. He hadn’t met a woman yet who was able to resist his considerable charm. Both he and his stallion would be safe.
“Done,” he agreed and held out his hand.
“On the mouth,” Malik added, pressing his hand into his brother’s.
Jamal tightened his grip and grinned. “Leave it to a professional.”
“M-marry?” Heidi repeated, convinced she’d heard the king incorrectly. “You want me to marry…?” Her voice trailed off.
This wasn’t happening, she told herself as she shakily got to her feet. The room that had been so wonderful just a few short minutes before seemed to spin and bend. Marriage! She’d never thought of marrying. She wasn’t the type. She didn’t find men all that interesting, and to be completely honest, they didn’t seem to find her appealing either.
“Are you so very surprised?” Givon asked. “You’re well into your twenties, and you’re certainly sensible.”
Old and sensible. Two fine reasons to marry, she thought, trying to find humor in the situation. Trying to find something—anything—to keep herself from losing her mind.
“I am surprised,” she managed to say at last. “I never thought…”
“Then you should think about it now. You and Jamal have much in common. Granted, he’s a few years older, but that’s a good thing in a husband. You both love El Bahar. Jamal is a great one for history. You both like to ride.”
“I haven’t been on a horse since I was twelve,” she murmured, as if that would make all the difference in the world. Of course we would have married , she would say years from now. But I didn’t ride .
“So you’ll learn again,” he said. “It’s not so difficult.”
Heidi paced to the far wall, the one with the mural of the Garden of Eden. The tiny pieces of tile formed a perfect picture of Eve being tempted by the serpent. The red tiles of the fruit seemed to gleam with an inner brightness. Was she being tested as well? Was Givon the serpent, or was he the answer to her prayers?
“Jamal needs you,” the older man continued, his tone low and persuasive. “His life is empty. It’s been nearly six years since his wife died, and in all that time he’s been alone.”
Heidi didn’t know which comment to address first. Jamal might need something, but she doubted it was her. As for him being alone, talk about a joke.
“Your Highness, Jamal has dated every attractive woman between here and the North Pole. He’s a womanizer.”
Jamal preferred his women busty, beautiful and blond. Actually the hair color wasn’t specific. He liked them all. The more glamorous, the more famous, sexy and available, the better. Gossip columns batted his name around like balls at a tennis match. He was rumored to be a spectacular lover. Not that she cared about that sort of thing. And she didn’t really look at the gossip magazines either. But when she was getting her hair trimmed, there wasn’t much else to read.
“As I said,” Givon told her, ignoring her previous comment. “His life is empty. He gets involved with these bubbleheads. Yes, he finds them appealing, but does he marry them? Does he bring them to El Bahar?”
He answered his own question with a shake of his head. “No. They are nothing to him. He uses them and tosses them aside.”
“There’s a character reference for a future husband,” she muttered.
“He needs a wife,” the king continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Someone he can care about. Someone he can love and who can love him in return.”
“That’s all very interesting, but it has nothing to do with me.” Heidi turned to face him. “I don’t want to marry Jamal or anyone. I have my work. I’m back here in El Bahar. That’s all I need.”
“You need more. You need to be married so you can have babies.”
She refused to think about children. She would not be seduced by the promise of a family.
“You can’t tell me you don’t like him,” Givon said. “I think he’s your favorite.”
She told herself she was not going to blush. The heat on her face was just…well…from being outside. That was it. She didn’t believe in blushing, mostly because she never got embarrassed. Her life didn’t lend itself to embarrassing moments. She was sensible.
“Your sons are all very nice,” she said with as much sincerity, not to mention diplomacy, as she could muster. “I don’t have a favorite.”
One of the princes? Was he kidding? They were all imperious and outgoing and far too bold for her. Khalil, the youngest, seemed to have settled down with a very nice wife. But Malik and Jamal were still wild, and they made her nervous. She didn’t especially