Susan Mallery: The Sheik's Secret Bride

Just an aberration, she told herself as she and her daughter joined the slow-moving line that would take them to their luggage. Too much traveling or the fear or maybe too much coffee had zapped some switch in her brain. That was the only explanation for her instant and overwhelming attraction to a stranger.

Forty minutes later Liana and Bethany stood waiting to go through customs. Liana had convinced herself that she’d made too much of her reaction to the El Baharian prince. Her body had still been in shock from the danger. Her instinctive fight-or-flight response to those men boarding the plane had sent a number of chemicals pouring into her system. Any thoughts she’d had about the prince had simply been the result of a fear hangover. Nothing more. Men like him didn’t appeal to women like her.

“Ma’am? If you would please to come this way?”

Liana was jolted from her musings by a slight man bending over to pick up one of her suitcases.

“What are you doing?” she asked sharply. “Don’t touch that.”

The El Baharian customs area was a large open room with plenty of air conditioning and ceiling fans. Although the lines were long, they were moving quickly and seemed efficient. Security people moved through the crowd, and she was about to call for one when the small man bowed apologetically.

“I was sent to bring you to a shorter line,” he said, pressing his hands together in front of his chest. “You have a young child and I was told that you would prefer the process to go more quickly. Just over there,” the man said, motioning to a lone official at the far side of the building.

“Is that one of the customs lines?” Liana asked, wondering why no one else was going that way. She looked up and saw the overhead sign: Official Visitors and Residents.

“As much as I would like it to be otherwise,” she said with a kind smile, “I’m neither an official visitor nor a resident. But thanks for the offer.”

The little man pressed his thin lips together. He had dark eyes and a sparse beard. He wore an exquisitely tailored suit.

“Please, ma’am. You would be most welcome.”

A uniformed security guard appeared at her elbow. “It’s quite all right, ma’am. We’re just trying to speed up the process.”

“If you’re sure,” Liana said doubtfully. She allowed the two men to take possession of her luggage and lead the way over to the customs official.

“You don’t want to be in a faster line?” Bethany asked as she dragged her carry-on bag behind her. “You like waiting in here?”

“Okay, okay, I was just being careful.”

They came to a stop and waited while the uniformed officer began to check their passports. Liana glanced around and was surprised to see that no one else had been directed to this particular line.

“I don’t understand,” she said, looking at the small man, then the security guard. “Why me and not them?”

“Because I requested it.”

Liana recognized the deep, resonant voice. Even before she turned to look at the gentleman who had just joined the party, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. She was tired, hungry and had spent the past twenty-four hours traveling halfway around the world with her nine-year-old daughter. She was not in the mood to be played with…even by her own body.

But all the temper in the world couldn’t counteract the feeling of heat that swept through her, or the faint trembling in her arms and legs. She raised her gaze and stared directly into the handsome face of Malik Khan, Crown Prince of El Bahar.

The prince offered a low bow. “We have not been formally introduced. I am Prince Malik and you are…?” He reached for her passport.

“Liana Archer. This is my daughter, Bethany.”

“Hi,” Bethany said, beaming up at him. “Do you really live in a palace?”

“Absolutely. With my two brothers and their wives. Lots of princes and princesses. Oh, and my father, King of El Bahar.”

Bethany’s blue eyes widened. “And you have your own horses and gold, and lots of people bow to you all the time?”

Malik grinned. “Not as much gold as we would like and people don’t bow all that much anymore. It makes it difficult for them to get their work done if they’re bowing all the time.”

Malik motioned to the customs official, who quickly stamped their passports, then ushered them through without so much as a glance at their luggage.

“Welcome to El Bahar,” Malik said.

Liana was still speechless at seeing him again, not to mention the effect of her misplaced physical reaction to his presence. She was too exhausted to figure out what was wrong with her, so she was determined to ignore it. Yes, the prince was tall—probably six foot two or three. She was five foot eight and he towered over her. Or maybe it was his headdress that gave him the illusion of height? She studied him and decided that his clothing might emphasize his power, but it didn’t add anything that wasn’t already there. Nope, Prince Malik was tall, strong and intimidating. But then maybe all princes were. She didn’t travel in royal circles much.

“Why did you do this?” she asked, jerking her head toward the long, slow-moving lines of people still waiting to go through customs.

Malik shrugged. “I wanted to apologize for scaring you and your daughter on the plane. I assure you, that was not our intention.”

His gaze was steady and direct. She tried to ignore the way he seemed to be seeing into her soul by looking at his individual features. Perhaps if she could find fault, he wouldn’t be so intimidating.

Unfortunately for her, Prince Malik was physically quite flawless. He had wide-set eyes and a straight nose. High cheekbones cut through tanned skin. His mouth was firm and a little stern, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. He was the kind of man who would look good with his likeness on a stamp…or the side of a mountain.

“So, Liana Archer, why are you in my country?” he asked.

“I’m a new teacher at the American School.” She shifted slightly and saw that the customs official, the little man in the well-fitting suit and the security guard were all still within earshot. None of them were overtly listening to the conversation, but Liana didn’t doubt they were catching every word.

Malik frowned. “You are not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are not a teacher,” he said folding his arms over his chest. “Women teachers are old and unattractive. So why are you really here, and where is your husband?”

She’d been warned that while El Bahar was more forward thinking than most Middle Eastern countries, the nation still had particular ideas rooted in the past. Obviously this was one of them.

The combination of her lingering attraction, the odd welcome they’d received on the plane and the tiredness she saw in her daughter’s face made Liana speak without thinking.

“Look, Your Highness, I can’t see that it’s any of your business, but for what it’s worth, I’m not married anymore. I can’t do anything about my age, but if you’d like I’ll work on popping out a few warts to make me more unattractive. Would that be sufficient?”

Behind her, she heard a collective gasp from the three men. Belatedly, she thought that sarcasm would probably not be welcomed by the Crown Prince. A vision of years in a desert prison followed by a slow and painful death filled her mind. She took a step closer to Bethany.

But instead of getting angry, the prince simply smiled. “Would the warts be on your nose?”

“Is that where you’d like them?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to consider the matter.” Then he snapped his fingers—literally—and a porter appeared with a cart.