Jane Porter - The Desert Sheikh's Innocent Queen - King of the Desert, Captive Bride

“Just the kind of girl to crave fame and fortune.”

“Her mom’s a homemaker, her older brother is a carpenter and builds houses.”

“Khalid,” Sharif said, a caution in his voice. “You can’t mean to marry her—”

“Why not? You married a schoolteacher. I can marry a travel agent.”

“Not funny. I knew Jesslyn for years. She was best friends with our sisters. Furthermore, she wasn’t a criminal.”

Khalid, uncomfortable with the mention of Aman and Jamila, rolled into a sitting position, naked save for the sheet partially covering his lap. “I won’t marry a criminal.”

“Not even to save her. Because I know you. You have this thing about rescuing broken creatures, but marriage is different. You can’t damage your name—our name—for someone like that. It’s not fair to my children, or our brother—”

“I know,” Khalid interrupted, smothering his irritation. Sharif had always played the heavy. It was a role he seemed to relish. “I’ve a week to uncover the truth, and I promise you, I intend to do everything I can to uncover the truth.”

“What if a week isn’t enough, brother?”

Khalid ran his hand through his short hair, trying to comb it flat. “Then we’re all in trouble.”

Hanging up, Khalid stepped into a loose pair of cotton pajamas and walked to the balcony, where he drew the curtains open, revealing the pyramid bathed in pink morning light.

One week, he thought. One week wasn’t long. He had a lot to do in seven days, a lot to learn, and the best way to learn was to observe.

He needed to get Olivia alone, away from the crowds and noise and distractions of Cairo. He needed to find out just what happened that day she was arrested. He also wanted to find the group she’d been traveling with, including the elusive Elsie, who’d allegedly given the drugs to Liv to carry.

So the first order of the day’s business was to ensure Liv had phoned home last night as she’d promised she would before she went to bed.

The second was to make their engagement official—which included putting a ring on Liv’s finger.

And the last was to learn more about this fiancée of his, and the best way to do it was to leave urban Cairo behind for the old Egypt, the one of pharaohs, temples and archaeological digs.

Liv was already awake and dressed in a pretty blue-and-white seersucker sundress when Khalid appeared. She’d been sitting in the living room having coffee and flipping through one of the many newspapers the butler had presented her earlier.

“It’s everywhere,” she said, looking up when Khalid entered the room. “It’s in every paper, on the front page, and again inside other sections. Your engagement is front page news.”

“Our engagement,” he corrected evenly, reaching for one of the papers off the table. He was dressed very casually in a European wardrobe of dark slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt with the cuffs folded back.

“When does this end?” she choked, sitting up taller. “How does it end?”

“It doesn’t. We’re in this together. For better or worse,” Khalid said, shooting her a hard, narrowed look. He’d just showered and his hair was still damp, his jaw freshly shaven. “It could be worse, too. You could still be in Ozr.”

She just looked at him, her stomach a bundle of nerves. Perhaps he didn’t find the idea of a marriage of convenience intolerable, but she did. She wanted to love the man she married. She wanted to be wooed and won, swept off her feet, and fall head over heels in love.

She wanted a proper wedding, too, but then, didn’t every girl? Over the years Liv had imagined her wedding in detail, from the white silk dress to the pale pink floral swags in the white steepled church.

“I’m not marrying a man I don’t love,” she said almost fiercely, her cheeks burning. “And when I do meet him, Sheikh Fehr, I’m not getting married without my mother attending.”

“I appreciate your romantic sentiments,” he answered, dropping one paper and reaching for another. “I do. And as a man who had two younger sisters, I understand how important romance is for you women. But romance isn’t practical. And romance isn’t going to save you so I suggest letting go of the fairy tale to focus on reality. By the way,” he continued, “how did you sleep last night?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” she answered hesitantly. “Why?”

“No bad dreams?” he persisted.

She frowned at him, trying to remember if anything had disturbed her sleep. “I don’t think so.”

“All right. Good. And you do look better today. You still have those shadows under your eyes, but at least you’ve got some pink in your cheeks. Yesterday you were very pale.”

“I was exhausted,” she admitted.

“Were you able to call your family before you went to bed?”

She nodded, recalling the brief five-minute conversation. Her mom and brother were on the phone at the same time and her mother still found it difficult to speak for too long without getting winded, so Liv and Jake did most of the talking, but even then, they were both quite careful to say nothing that would upset their mother.

“It was fine,” she said. “I was tired and not as talkative as I could be. But at least they know I’m safe, and, well … and they don’t have to worry anymore.” She hesitated. “I was surprised, though, that Jake didn’t mention your call to him, but maybe he didn’t feel right talking about it with Mom on the phone.”

“I imagine he’s doing his best to protect your mom.” The edge of his mouth curved. “It’s what men want to do for their women, whether it’s their wife or their mother.”

Intrigued by this revelation, she probed for more information. “Are you close with your mother?”

“No,” he answered, and instead of elaborating glanced at his watch. “Feel like shopping?”

Liv wrinkled her nose. “Not particularly.”

“You don’t enjoy shopping?”

“We shopped yesterday.”

He looked at her strangely, deep grooves forming on either side of his full mouth, his upper lip slightly bowed, but not quite as full as his sensual lower lip. For the first time she noticed he had a hint of a cleft in his chin. Definitely handsome, if not completely overwhelming.

“Women love to shop,” he said.

“I don’t, unless I’m buying travel books or history books or something that I can read.” She watched his face, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression was perfectly blank. “I was actually hoping we could go sightseeing.” She hesitated. “See the pyramids or visit the Sphinx.”

Before Khalid could answer, the suite’s doorbell chimed and the butler emerged from a back room to go to the door. Liv could hear the door open, and then listened as he greeted someone and then the door closed again. The butler entered the living room with an older Egyptian in a dark suit following close at his heels, a large leather briefcase in one hand.

“Your Highness,” the older Egyptian said, greeting Khalid with a deep bow. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Not at all,” Khalid answered. “We were just discussing the day.”

The man bowed again. “Is there someplace in mind you’d like to do this? Shall I join you there in the sitting area, or would you prefer to move to the dining room?”

Khalid glanced at Liv where she sat, and then into the dark dining room. “I think the light is better here,” he answered, “and Olivia is already comfortable. Let’s just do this where we are.”

“Excellent.” The man carried his briefcase to the low coffee table between the upholstered pieces of furniture and set his briefcase down. It wasn’t until he placed the briefcase on the table that she noticed it was handcuffed to his wrist.