Susan Mallery: The Sheik's Arranged Marriage

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 want to marry, but when she did—for the sake of those imaginary children—it would be to a gentle man. Someone intellectual and kind. Someone who didn’t get into a lather about passion and touching. Someone with whom she could share a spiritual and mental relationship that was far more important than the physical.

“But you think Jamal’s handsome.”

Heidi drew in a deep breath. “He’s not unattractive. None of your sons are.”

How could they be? All taller than six feet. All with dark hair and burning eyes. Sort of a combination of James Bond and Rudolph Valentino. And she might have had one or two fantasies about Jamal when she was younger…much younger, but she’d outgrown that sort of thing.

Givon stood up and walked over to stand next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close. “Good. Then you’ll sit next to him at dinner and consider what I’ve said. He needs to marry. You need to marry. It’s perfect.”

“It’s not perfect.”

But Givon wasn’t listening. “Fatima wants this, too,” he said. “You know my mother. When she gets her mind set on something, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.”

Heidi groaned. “Not Fatima, too. I can’t resist you both.”

The king grinned. “You’re right, so don’t even bother trying.” He kissed her cheek and was gone.

Heidi sank onto the floor, her back pressed against the mural. Fatima had been a second mother to her. With her Chanel clothes and her gracious manners, she was royalty personified. Elegant, intelligent, warm-hearted. Heidi had always thought that Fatima was the most perfect queen to ever grace El Bahar.

But behind the gracious manners and just-right makeup lurked a spine of steel and a resolve that could withstand an army.

Married? Heidi?

“I don’t even date,” she muttered aloud.

She’d tried it twice and had experienced exactly two disasters. She’d attended an all-girls high school, so her first date hadn’t occurred until college. She’d been invited to a frat party on a neighboring campus. No one had warned her that the fluffy coconut concoction had contained more rum than was healthy. After consuming three icy drinks in less than an hour, she’d found herself on her hands and knees, throwing up in the closest bathroom.

It had been her first experience with alcohol. Amazingly enough, her date had assumed her sickness meant she would be that much easier to force into bed. Before she’d realized what he was doing, she’d found herself on her back with her skirt up to her waist. Fortunately for her, if not for him, she’d thrown up yet again…all over him, herself and the bed. It had squashed his mood, and she’d made her escape. Her second attempt at dating had been worse.

No, she wasn’t interested in dating, let alone marriage, and she would make both very clear the second she laid eyes on Jamal Khan, Prince of El Bahar.

“J ust so we’re all clear,” Heidi said as she walked into the dining room that evening, “I’m not interested in getting married.”

The man sitting at the large table didn’t even have the grace to look shocked by her statement. Instead he smiled politely, rose to his feet and nodded.

“Thank you for clearing that up so quickly,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

Heidi felt a faint heat on her cheeks. She told herself it was from the exertion of her walk. After all, her room was some distance from the dining room. Also, she’d been walking quickly because she wanted to catch Jamal alone. Which he had been…and they now were.

There was the sensation of more heat, which she ignored. She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I can explain.”

Jamal Khan moved toward her, stopping only when he was within touching distance. She hated that she had to look up to see him. She hated even more that he was so appealing. The princes were walking, breathing, life-sized clichés. All tall, dark, handsome and rich. Jamal was the worst of the three in her opinion.

He stood at least two inches over six feet. He wore his jet-black hair brushed straight back in a conservative style that suited his strong bone structure perfectly. His suit was tailored, his tie probably cost as much as a month’s dining pass at her college. Don’t even get her started on his shoes. Handmade. Leather.

Heidi felt a slight shiver at the base of her spine. It was a dumb place for a shiver to begin so she ignored that, too.

“It’s been a long time, Heidi,” he said, holding out his hand. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

She briefly shook hands with him then laced her fingers together behind her back where they were out of danger. She hadn’t really felt any tingling when they’d touched. No jolt of any kind. Really. If she had, well, she would ignore that along with the odd sort of weakness in her knees.

“Yes, it’s been a while.” She glanced over her shoulder and stared down the empty hallway. “They’ll be here any moment. We have to talk.”

“They?” He drew out the word just long enough to make her realize he thought she was crazy.

“Your father and grandmother. King Givon came to see me this afternoon. He made these noises about us getting married. You and me. I don’t know why. We barely know each other. We’re not suited at all. We have to stop him.”