скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Okay, I can understand preferring to be here than hospital.’ But that didn’t explain her cousin’s agreement when most people would realise the twins needed more observation too.
‘I do feel a little less alone now Prince Zafar has arrived.’
‘Prince Zafar.’ Carmen blinked. Prince of what? ‘Like Prince Charles?’
‘From the desert. Zafar is fourth in line to the throne of Zandorro.’
‘A sheik?’ That explained a lot. ‘So you’re from this Zandorro, too?’
‘My family were from a small but powerful country in the desert. My father is dead, my mother left five years ago and brought me to Australia with her, but she sadly passed away not long after we arrived.’
So much drama and tragedy for one woman to cope with. But why was Fadia so unsure it was a good thing her cousin had found her?
She’d known Zafar was someone out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t an everyday occurrence to run into a prince. Or be trapped in a lift with one. Or be almost kissed by one.
No wonder he expected to be obeyed. And she’d coolly told him to leave. She struggled not to smile. Too funny.
She needed to think about this. ‘So if he’s your cousin,’ Which made Fadia…? ‘Does that make you a princess?’
‘Yes.’
She pointed to her sons. ‘I’m guessing they’re princes too, then?’ She looked at the babies. ‘And you walked into the hospital at the last minute alone to deliver twins?’
A cloud passed over Fadia’s face and her voice lowered until Carmen strained to hear her. ‘Unfortunately, when my husband died, I was alone and pregnant and the only help I’ve had has been from friends of my husband, but I’m starting to think I don’t really trust them.’
‘Tom told me I was being followed and I moved out of my flat close to the hospital into a hotel for what turned out to be the last day of my pregnancy. The poor driver was beside himself that I would have my babies in his taxi.’
Carmen could imagine it. She’d bet he was terrified. ‘You were lucky they weren’t.’ Crikey.
Fadia’s eyes filled. ‘I think Tom didn’t want Zafar to find me. Zafar is here to take me back to his country, and I am starting to think that is a good thing, but it will separate me from the memories of my husband and mother. Yet my sons need their heritage. Tom said he will help me stay in Australia.’ Her voice became a whisper. ‘But I’m not sure that is what I want.’
‘So when is your husband’s friend—Tom, is it?—coming?’
‘Today. And I’m scared for my sons.’ Fadia began to shake and Carmen frowned as the woman struggled to pull herself together. ‘I hate being weak. But I seem to have lost my strength since my husband died.’
Poor Fadia. And, boy, she was really in the middle of something here, Carmen thought. Then the twin in his cot screwed up his face and let out a blood-curdling wail as if aware of the tragedy of his mother. At least she could do something while her brain raced.
She unwrapped the little boy and checked his nappy before she re-wrapped and lifted him out of the crib. ‘Don’t be cross, little prince.’ Then she tucked him into her neck and gently patted his bottom. The unconscious rhythm soothed them both.
She needed to understand how she could help Fadia. ‘So do you want me to keep this Tom away?’
Fadia’s eyes widened. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Midwives are very good at screening people without upsetting them.’ Carmen shrugged. ‘Lots of times a mother’s labour is going slowly because of an inappropriate person in the birthing room.’ She grinned. ‘Like a scary mother-in-law or a friend she couldn’t say no to.’ She smiled. ‘We suggest they have some time out and they don’t get them back in until the mother asks us to.’ She spread her hands. ‘I could hold Tom off for you. But isn’t your cousin better for that?’
Fadia stroked the bed sheet with her fingers. ‘No. The situation could escalate more than I want’
A strange thing to say but Fadia’s fingers twisted and turned and Carmen held her tongue. ‘Or Zafar might do something to him.’
Carmen barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Oh, come on. This isn’t the Middle Ages.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Okay. So, this Tom? Have you got a photo of him?’
Fadia thought for a moment and then nodded. She reached for her purse and removed a photo of a smiling couple, the woman Fadia.
‘Your husband?’ Fadia nodded. Carmen looked at the third person in the photo and there was something about him that reminded her of her ex. Carl. A hardness around his eyes, a sleaziness in his smile. She was good at picking that up now.
Fadia was shaking and Carmen felt for her. That was enough emotional drama for this exhausted mum. ‘Fadia. Can I borrow this? I’ll copy it and give my friend downstairs a copy. We’ll keep an eye out and and nobody will be hurt. But for now…’ she held the baby towards his mother ‘… we could get these boys fed because this little one is going to bring the roof down if he really gets going. And you’re not going to have time to worry about annoying Toms, or frowning Zafars, because these boys will keep you on your toes without them. And after that you get to rest.’
Fadia nodded and some of the strain left her face. ‘You’re right. Thank you.’
An hour later, when Carmen opened the door of Fadia’s room, a tall man in a flowing robe stood up from the chair at the end of the corridor and stared at her as she hesitated in the doorway. What was going on here?
Good grief. This was getting worse. She was guessing Zafar had put a guard on Fadia so maybe there was more she needed to know.
They were infecting her with their dramas but the last thing the new mum needed was more tension and Carmen needed to know what she was up against.
Carmen stiffened her shoulders, let the room door shut behind her and marched up to the guard. ‘I’m assuming you’re Prince Zafar’s man?’
He bowed his head, though his expression remained anything but subservient. ‘Yes, madame. I am Yusuf.’
‘Then, Yusuf, perhaps you could take me to your prince, please.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I think not.’ The guard raised his eyebrows, looked her up and down, as if to say she was only a woman and a servant at that, and Carmen’s usually dormant temper flickered. She glared at him. This was really beyond a joke.
Any minute now Fadia could poke her head out and see she was under guard.
Her voice firmed. ‘I think so. Right now, thank you. I’m quite happy to use the stairs.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘The prince and I do know each other.’ A white lie. Serve Zafar right for flirting with her.
She and Yusuf, her new best friend—not—stared at each other for a moment and she could see a faint scar running the full length of the man’s face. He was probably extremely used to defending his prince.
There was stalemate as the silence went on and she threw caution to the winds. ‘I’d hate to have to pass on my displeasure.’
The man’s face tightened and he shrugged fatalistically. ‘As you wish. This way.’ He opened the door to the stairwell and allowed her to precede him. Carmen could hear the swish of his robes behind her, even though his footsteps were silent.
‘Please wait.’
She glanced back and Yusuf held up his hand.
She paused at the top of the stairs and the guard leaned forward and opened the heavy door for her. That second of waiting gave her time to realise she had no clear agenda for her visit with the prince when she arrived. Was it enough of her business to barge in? What on earth was she doing here?
On the seventh floor Carmen could see another guard standing outside the door to the presidential suite and the reality sank in a little further about how different this man’s life was from hers. And how out of her depth she really was.
She paused to say she’d changed her mind but one glance at the cynical face beside her told her dear Yusuf had picked up on her discomfort. Great to know she was providing him with amusement.
That decided her.
Yusuf glanced once more at her determined chin, nodded at the man standing guard, then knocked on the large wooden door.
A few seconds later a tiny robed woman appeared and they spoke a language Carmen didn’t understand but it wasn’t hard to guess what was said—something along the lines of stupid woman annoying our prince, no doubt.
The woman glanced over Carmen, shrugged and stepped back to allow them to enter.
The room opened into a window lined terrace and the magnificent blue vista of Coogee Bay curved like a sickle seven floors below. The scent of sandalwood was strong and quiet discordant music played discreetly in the background.
Several low armchairs were grouped together and there were heaped cushions on colour-rich carpets, all facing the entertainment centre on one side of the room, and a boardroom table with a dozen comfortable chairs took up space on the other.
She’d been in this room before and the furnishing had changed dramatically. It seemed Prince Zafar travelled with his own furniture. A tad different from her bedsit with a rickety bed.
A door leading off into another room opened and Zafar came out—no, she thought, he made an entrance. Dressed in white traditional robes of an Arab, with his head covered, she couldn’t help a little more gaping.
His brows drew together when he saw her but he came forward until he stood in front of her. He looked even bigger and more formidable surrounded by his servants but this time it was not only his physical presence, more the scent of distinct power.
‘You wished to see me.’
She felt the pressure from interested eyes, and he too glanced around. He spoke three short, sharp words that cleared the room like magic.
Despite herself, she was impressed and to her irritation couldn’t deny a little nervous thrill now that they were alone.
‘Please…’ he gestured to the lounge chairs ‘… be seated.’ He gestured to the tiny kitchen. ‘Would you like a juice or water?’
‘No, thank you.’ Despite her dry mouth. Maybe she should have had one to give herself time to think of something to say.
He sat when she did. ‘In that case, what can I do for you?’
She had no idea. ‘I wish to discuss your cousin.’
He inclined his head and she suspected a fleeting crinkle of amusement before he assumed a serious face again. ‘I had guessed that was the case.’
Now she felt silly. Of course he did. She wasn’t here because he’d almost kissed her. Was she? The thought brought a tide of pink to her cheeks and she felt like sliding under the gorgeous carpet or pulling one of those cushions over her face. How did she get herself into these situations?
Another flash of humour. ‘Let me help you.’
She blinked. It wasn’t where she expected help to come from but she’d take it.
‘You’re wondering if I am an ogre, or some medieval lord who drags around unwilling women and their babies…’ he caught her eye and she was sure he could read her agreement in her face, but he went on, ‘… back to being imprisoned in their homeland.’
Just making sure it’s not something like that. ‘Not quite so dramatic but yes.’
‘Thank you for your honesty. Let me explain. Apart from things you cannot be aware of, I think to clear the air between us could save us both some time.’
He smiled at her and she could feel herself soften. Even lean slightly towards him until she realised what she was doing. He seemed so reasonable and she was starting to believe she’d done the right thing to come here in the first place. This guy had serious charisma when he turned it on. She needed to remember that.
A random worry niggled and jostled with her hormones for attention. Please, don’t let me fall again. Carl had been this smooth. This ‘open’ and friendly at first. Before she’d agreed to marry him and discovered how dark his soul really was. She was too easily sucked in by smooth guys. Guys she almost allowed to kiss her in elevators. She felt her shoulders stiffen with the thought. Good.
‘By now you have discovered who I am, although I imagine my title would mean little to you?’ The inflexion made it a question and she answered like the puppet she was trying not to turn into.
‘You’re right. No idea.’
‘So…’ He smiled at her and there was no way she couldn’t smile back, damn him. ‘I am from the small Arabic state of Zandorro that has, by the blessing of Allah, found itself abundantly supplied with oil and precious gems.’
There seemed to be a lot of those around, Carmen thought cynically, but she nodded to show she was paying attention.
‘Our grandfather, King Fahed Al Zamid, is ruler, though his health is not good. Fadia’s father, my uncle, was second in line to the throne until he died.’ He looked at her. ‘Unnatural causes.’
Unnatural causes. She fought to keep her eyebrows level. He went on when she nodded. ‘It was thought Fadia had passed away with her mother several years ago, and as the succession passes only to a male child her wellbeing unfortunately slipped beneath the family’s radar.’
He didn’t explain that but went on. ‘My eldest brother is next in line and I too have become closer to the throne because of these misfortunes.’
He paused, a short one, to see if she understood, and she was glad of the respite while she filed the succession order away in her brain.
She nodded and he continued. ‘But now, with Fadia’s children being male and healthy, they are automatically next in the line of succession.’
She thought about that. Next in line? Major succession. Then he carried on. ‘Unfortunately, this also increases their risk from certain elements once their birth is known, and that is something I have tragic personal experience of. Naturally I am concerned that my cousin and her sons remain safe. And she did ask for help.’
‘Safe. Physical danger? Do you mean kidnapping?’ This was a little more complicated than Fadia had led her to believe. If she believed him, that was, a calm inner voice suggested.
Zafar went on in that reasonable tone that seemed to flow hypnotically. ‘At best. Hence my urgency to find Fadia once we knew she was alive and return her to our country before the babies’ birth in case all of them were in danger away from the palace. At least until we can settle the dangers once and for all. A goal I have been working on.’
‘Do you think there really is a risk of danger?’ She couldn’t help thinking about Fadia’s concerns about Tom.
‘Certainly. Her eldest son is next in line to rule when he comes of age and the younger brother is the next in line after that. Fadia’s sons could provide leverage over the monarchy, which unfortunately is not an uncommon occurrence with our hostile neighbours.’
She was starting to get that.
He shrugged philosophically. ‘Fadia needs to come home, at least for the time being, for her and her sons’ safety, now she is a widow.’
‘I don’t suppose it’s easy for her. I think she has some friends and a life in Australia.’
His lip curled. ‘The friendship of a man who has plans to control a royal widow? A man who pretended to be a friend of her husband, who has helped her remain cut off from her family now she has no husband to protect her?’ She could see the implacable intent in his expression. ‘What sort of man preys on a young woman like that?’
So he knew a little about this Tom. Okay. But wasn’t it Fadia’s final decision they needed to wait for? She stamped down her initial unease over saying something. ‘She seems to have relied on him in the past.’
His gaze sharpened and she could almost smell the briny scent of storm to come. ‘So she has mentioned him?’
She looked away. ‘No.’ She really didn’t think she’d get away with her pitifully thin denial but he wasn’t looking at her.
He’d focussed across the room at the windows. ‘But has he already found where she is?’
She wasn’t touching that assumption. ‘Is that why you have a guard in her corridor?’
His gaze returned to her but he declined to answer that question. ‘Her marriage and the birth of her sons has been an unexpected development for our family.’
