The Sheik's Secret

“I’m not the godmother,” Kali finally answered him. “If you can believe it, my mother told me that Bart feels it would be too painful for me. I swear, sometimes I want to grab Bart by one of his appalling ties and shake him until his sense of overweening importance falls out!”

“Are they?”

Kali blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Are his ties appalling?”

“Yes. Clashing splotches of color, not tastefully modern like—” Her voice faded away when she noticed the somber magnificence of his navy-and-green striped silk tie.

Uh-oh, Hassan thought. He’d completely forgotten Karim’s penchant for avant-garde neckwear. “This is my old school tie,” he hurriedly offered an explanation, hoping she wouldn’t know what the Eton tie really looked like.

Kali nodded, although the thoughtful look in her eyes made him uneasy.

Just how smart was she? he wondered, trying to remember what Karim had said about her. It hadn’t been much. Just that she was a psychologist, which meant she was used to looking beneath the surface of things. And if she were to look at him too closely.

It wouldn’t matter, he assured himself as he followed her out of the building. His impersonation wouldn’t last long enough for her to figure out that he wasn’t Karim. By tomorrow evening he’d have told her the truth and. His mind shied away from the thought of what would follow.

“There’s a taxi.” Kali waved madly to attract its attention, and Hassan determinedly banished his worries.

“Where to?” the driver demanded, when they were in the taxi.

“Blackwells over by Times Square.” Hassan gave him the name of his mother’s favorite jewelry store. “If anyone in New York City has a porringer it’ll be Blackwells,” Hassan told Kali.

When they reached the jeweler’s, Kali climbed out of the cab and examined the display windows while Hassan paid the fare. The elaborate ruby-and-diamond necklace casually draped across a piece of black velvet gave her doubts about the wisdom of going inside. That necklace looked as if it had come from the Hermitage’s collection of the Russian royal family’s jewelry.

“Hassan,” she said when he joined her, “I don’t know what the Institute pays you, but I get the impression I don’t make enough to shop in this place.” She glanced down again at the beautiful necklace. “In fact, I could get an inferiority complex just window shopping here.”

Hassan studied her uncertainly, wondering if she were serious. She seemed like such a self-possessed woman. So sure of herself and her place in the world that it was hard for him to believe she could suffer from some of the same social insecurities that he did.

He frowned as he suddenly realized the full implication of her words. She thought Karim was dependent on what he earned as a research scientist. Obviously Karim hadn’t told her that their father ruled a very oil-rich country in the Middle East. So rich that Saad Dev’a’s citizens enjoyed one of the highest standards of living in the world.

Why hadn’t Karim told her? Hassan wondered. Because he hadn’t wanted Kali’s decision to marry him to be based on his wealth? Or had he been afraid that Kali might turn him down if she realized just how different their backgrounds were?

Hassan didn’t know, but he did know that Karim knew women far better than he could ever hope to. If Karim hadn’t wanted Kali to know his financial worth, then he’d keep it a secret, too.

“I have a thrifty nature,” he finally said. “So that when I do want to splurge a little, I can afford to.”

“But I can’t let you pay for Eddie’s gift.”

“Oh, yes, you can. We’re engaged, remember.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing,” Hassan pulled open the door. “Come on.”

Reluctantly Kali followed Hassan into the elegant store.

“Good afternoon.” The middle-aged clerk gave Kali a practiced smile before his gaze moved to Hassan. He instantly priced the hand-tailored perfection of Hassan’s suit, and his smile widened. “Sir. How may I be of service to you this afternoon?”

“We would like to see a christening gift,” Hassan said.

“Certainly. If you and,” the clerk’s eyes dropped to Kali’s ringless fingers, “the lady will sit down, I will be glad to show you some appropriate gifts. Or did you already have something in mind?”

Hassan waited until Kali sat in one of the chairs the clerk had pointed to before he sat down beside her.

“We want a silver porringer,” Hassan said.

“Ah! A traditionalist after my own heart.” The clerk beamed at him. “Just a moment while I check our stock. I’ll be right back.”

Kali watched the man disappear into the back and then whispered, “I don’t believe it. He really does have a porringer.”

True to his word, the man was back almost immediately carrying a black lacquered tray holding three dark blue velvet bags. “We have several porringers in stock. These—” he pulled two of them out of their protective bags and set them on the counter in front of Kali “—are strictly traditional.

“This one,” he pointed to the fairly plain one, “is a copy of one that George IV of England gave to the Marquis of Londonderry at his christening in 1821. While this one—” He held up an ornately cast one “—is a copy of one from an earlier period. As you can see, it has a more baroque feel to it.”

“They’re beautiful,” Kali said, wondering if the unknown Marquis had really eaten his cereal out of anything that valuable.

“Nice, but we wanted something a little more ostentatious,” Hassan said, and Kali suppressed a groan. Much more ostentatious and between them they wouldn’t be able to pay for it.

The clerk unexpectedly grinned, looking far more human. “In that case, I have exactly the thing for you. It was a special order that was unfortunately canceled. It is most definitely impressive.”

He picked up the last velvet sack and pulled out a small gold bowl which he set reverently in front of Kali. “As you can see from the luster, it is almost pure gold. Which of course means that it is nowhere near as sturdy as the silver ones. It is meant strictly for display.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kali breathed, “but far too impractical,” she hurriedly added at Hassan’s speculative expression.

“We’ll take it,” Hassan said, ignoring Kali’s indrawn hiss. He was determined she was going to have a gift to take that would impress the hell out of her ex-fiancé.

And a ring. Hassan remembered how the clerk had automatically checked Kali’s hand for an engagement ring. Bart would be bound to do the same thing.

“While we’re here, would you show us some engagement rings?” Hassan said.

“Certainly, sir.” The man rubbed his hands together, and Kali could almost see him mentally calculating his commission. “Does the lady have a choice of stone?”

Does the lady have a choice at all, Kali thought with an uncertain look at Hassan. What was he up to? When she’d accepted his proposal, he’d asked her if she’d wanted a ring, and she’d said no, seeing no reason for him to go to the expense for what was to be merely a merger of friends. He’d agreed with her then, so why had he changed his mind now?

“An emerald,” Hassan said, remembering his earlier fantasy.

“An excellent choice with the lady’s coloring,” the man approved. “We have several fine stones in stock at the moment. I’ll just get them out of the safe.”

He hurried toward the back of the store, almost as if he were afraid they might change their minds and leave before he could clinch a sale.

Kali barely waited until the man was out of hearing before she turned to Hassan. “We decided against a ring.”

“You need one for tomorrow,” Hassan insisted. “Your family isn’t going to believe that you’re really engaged if you don’t have a ring. Bart gave you one when you got engaged, didn’t he?”

“Yes, a diamond.” Kali’s eyes automatically dropped to her left hand, remembering the ring he’d given her. It had been small, but she’d loved it out of all proportion to its size, seeing it as confirmation of Bart’s love.

“You don’t still have it, do you?” Hassan asked, shocked at the anger filling him at her faraway expression. He was angry on her behalf, he assured himself. Angry that she had been so badly used. It didn’t matter to him personally. It couldn’t. He’d only known her a few hours.

“Certainly not. I gave it back to him. I have no idea what happened to it.”

The clerk emerged from the back room and set a small tray of rings down in front of them with a flourish.

Kali looked down at them, trying to keep her appreciation of their beauty out of her face. They looked frightfully expensive. But maybe Hassan was looking on the ring as an investment? That was probably it, she decided, feeling fractionally better. While she preferred to invest in stocks and bonds, she knew lots of people bought gold and precious gems as a hedge against inflation.

“What about this one?” Hassan picked up a large, square-cut stone set in yellow gold and handed it to her.

Obediently Kali tried it on, her eyes widening in appreciation at the way the magnificent gem caught the light.

“Do you like it?” Hassan asked.

“It is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,” she said, instinctively blurting out the truth.

“We’ll take it,” Hassan said in satisfaction. He’d been right. Emeralds were the perfect choice for Kali.

“Urn, Hassan.” Kali shot him a warning look. Investment or not, they ought to at least ask how much it was before they committed themselves.

“It’s too loose.” She grabbed the first excuse she could think of.

“No problem at all,” the clerk said cheerfully. “I can have it resized within the hour.”

What’s going to be resized is both our bank accounts, Kali thought, but somehow she just couldn’t refuse to accept it. Not with Hassan looking so pleased with himself. But why was he so pleased with himself? She had absolutely no idea, and that bothered her. She’d thought she had a pretty good understanding of both his personality and what motivated him.

But his insistence on buying her a ring seemed completely out of character for him…or else she’d misread his character in the first place. She didn’t find either possibility reassuring.

Uneasily she watched as Hassan followed the clerk over to the counter to pay for their purchases. What other surprises did Hassan have in store for her? The idea both worried and exhilarated her.

Two

Hassan shifted the brightly painted boomerang from his right hand to his left, patted his suit jacket pocket to make sure Kali’s ring was still there and then rapped sharply on her apartment door. Giving her that ring had become very important to him. He wanted her to have a memento of him that had nothing to do with his brother. And tonight, after he told her the truth, he’d insist she keep it.

Kali flung the door open. “You’re early.”

“Traffic was light,” he improvised, suddenly remembering that Karim was perpetually late to everything.

“Come in.” Kali stepped back, when what she wanted to do was put her arms around him and kiss him. To breathe in the cold tang of the outdoors that he brought with him and then to snuggle even closer to savor the scent of his new cologne. A compulsion she was at a total loss to explain. It made no sense that a two-week absence should have intensified her previously tepid sexual curiosity about him to the point where it was in imminent danger of becoming an obsession.

One thing was certain, she thought as she surreptitiously studied him, her newfound fascination was not reciprocated or he would have kissed her when he’d arrived. But maybe he was waiting for a sign from her that she would welcome a kiss? But what if he wasn’t and she gave him a sign. What would he think then?

“Here’s your boomerang.” Hassan handed it to her, giving her hopelessly tangled thoughts a safer direction.

“Thank you. I always wanted a real Australian boomerang. The ones I had as a kid never worked, and I always wondered if it was because I simply didn’t have the knack for throwing them or if it was because they weren’t authentic.

“What are all these figures painted on it?” she asked.

“Aborigine pictographs,” Hassan quoted what Mohammed had told him. “They’re supposed to make game susceptible to it.”

“I see.” Kali glanced speculatively around the living room. If she didn’t throw it very hard, there was just room enough to see if there was any curve in its trajectory.

“You can’t throw that inside.” Hassan correctly interpreted her look.

She gave him an impish grin that inexplicably made him feel ten years old again. But not quite, he realized. Now the feeling had sexual overtones that he hadn’t even been aware had existed at that age.

“Of course I can,” Kali said. “Whether I should or not is entirely another matter.”

He was about to point out the danger of shattering a window on the sixth floor when he remembered that he was supposed to be Karim. His twin certainly would see nothing wrong with playing with a boomerang indoors. In fact, Karim would probably be demanding the first turn.

“I’m not going to throw it hard,” Kali explained as she tested the boomerang’s balance on her fingertips. “I just want to see if it curves.”

To Hassan’s relief, she turned toward the kitchen, away from the windows, and gave it a restrained toss. It flew ten feet straight ahead before dropping like a stone.

“I don’t think boomerangs ever work!” Kali complained “I’ll bet it’s all just a lie put out by the Australian Tourist Board to sell the blasted things.”

“Maybe you simply haven’t said the proper incantations.”

“Incantations?” Kali looked up, her attention caught by the odd note in his voice. “What kind of incantations?”

“Boomerangs are hunting weapons and as such exclusively the property of men. You’re a woman.”

And what a woman, he thought, allowing his gaze to linger on the swell of her breasts beneath her cream silk blouse.

“Maybe what I need is some woman magic to counter the masculine pictographs,” she said, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted, so that if he withdrew from her it wouldn’t embarrass either of them. And if he didn’t withdraw…

She took a deep breath. She might be able to finagle a kiss out of this.

“Woman magic?” Hassan asked.

“Uh-huh, woman magic is a very potent force in all primitive societies.” Kali slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips as she scrambled for a way to move things out of the realm of spoken language and into that of body language.

Her confidence level soared when she noticed his eyes following her tongue’s movement.

Slowly Kali advanced toward him, drawing pictures in the air with her fingers as she came.

“I am woman. I am all-powerful.” She sing-songed the words, not stopping until she was almost touching him.

To her surprise and delight, Hassan suddenly reached out and pulled her up against him. She landed against his hard chest with a bump that momentarily dislodged rational thought. Automatically she put out her hands to steady herself, grasping his arms. She could feel his hard biceps through the sleek wool material of his gray suit. It was an intriguing combination. Much like Hassan himself was turning out to be.

“Women are many things, but powerful isn’t one of them.” Hassan couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from her lips. She had the most alluring mouth he’d ever seen.

“You mean this isn’t the time to tell you that I was the best student in my self-defense class at the Y?” Kali tilted her head back, and the movement pushed her breasts into his chest, sending a wave of desire spiraling through her.

“Really?” Hassan’s arms tightened, lifting her off her feet and holding her securely against him. “Try to get free.”

Now why would she want to do a dumb thing like that? Kali wondered, when he felt like the embodiment of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had as well as a few she hadn’t gotten around to yet.

“But it’s woman magic I control,” she murmured, nuzzling her face against his neck. “And woman magic is a little different from brute strength. For example,” she trailed her lips along his jawline and began to nuzzle the skin behind his ear. She could feel his body’s instant response, and it fed her self-confidence.

She took a deep, indulgent breath of the delicious aroma that clung to him, allowing it to fill her lungs. Savoring the sensations unfurling in her, Kali licked the spot she’d been caressing, smiling happily when he gasped.

Emboldened she traced back over his jawline with her lips, exploring the exact texture of his skin. It had a faintly raspy feel to it as if he had a very heavy beard.

Her speculation was cut short as Hassan suddenly turned his head and captured her mouth with his. His lips pressed forcefully against hers, demanding that she open her mouth to his exploration. Instinctively she obeyed, and he shoved his tongue inside with a rough hunger Kali found incredibly sexy.

Reaction poured over her in waves, raising goose bumps on her flesh. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, trying to bind him closer. She hadn’t realized that a simple kiss could feel like this. She could even hear bells.

A monumental sense of loss filled her as Hassan suddenly dropped his arms and stepped back.

Kali gulped in air, struggling to get control of her turbulent emotions. It wasn’t easy. She felt shaken to the very core of her being. Totally unlike herself. And totally unlike the sensible, competent woman Hassan had proposed to. The fear that he might notice her unprecedented reaction and wonder about it was like a shower of cold water on her overheated emotions.

Kali ran her fingers down over the smooth line of her green tweed skirt willing them to stop trembling.

“Here, I almost forgot,” Hassan said.

Kali looked up to find him holding out the engagement ring he’d bought her yesterday.

Kali stared down at the exquisite thing, wondering how anyone could ever forget something so beautiful…even for a moment. The huge emerald seemed to glow as if lit from within.

“It’s even more gorgeous than I remember,” she said, uncertain as to whether she should put it on or let him, as a couple would do in a normal engagement.

But she didn’t want a normal engagement. She’d already tried falling in love, and it had been a complete disaster. Her cool, considered arrangement with Hassan was much better.

She looked up into Hassan’s dark eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. At least it had been cool and considered, she amended. But for some reason, ever since Hassan had gotten back from Australia, he’d been different.

No, she corrected herself as she studied his familiar features. Hassan wasn’t different. What was different was how she was reacting to him. And she had no idea why.

Hassan answered her unspoken question by taking her hand and slipping the ring on her finger.

“A perfect fit,” Hassan announced, wanting to kiss her again. He wanted to see if it felt the same or if his explosive reaction to their earlier kiss had been a fluke. He wanted.some common sense. He choked off his desire with monumental effort. He had absolutely no business kissing her, because tonight he was going to tell her the truth.

But until then he was playing the part of her fiancé and if he didn’t play the part convincingly, he wouldn’t fool her family. And this whole exercise would have been a waste.

Kali watched the emotions flitting across his face, wondering what he was thinking. She didn’t have a clue. Hassan was turning out to be a lot more complicated than she’d originally thought.

But this wasn’t the time to worry about it, she told herself as the cuckoo clock she’d lugged home from Germany four years ago suddenly chimed the half hour.

Hurriedly she got her tan dress coat out of the closet and shrugged into it.

“I told Mom I’d call her from the train station when we get in,” Kali told Hassan as she carefully locked her apartment door behind them. “Someone will collect us.”

“I’ve got a car.”

“But you hate to drive.” She frowned uncertainly at him.

Damn! Hassan mentally cursed his slip. How could he have forgotten the car accident that had killed his uncle and led to the breakup of his parents’ happy marriage? Six-year-old Karim had been severely injured. The whole family had spent the next fifteen years catering to his every whim. The accident had also left Karim with a horror of driving. But maybe Karim hadn’t told Kali the reason he didn’t drive. He didn’t seem to have told her anything else about his background.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that I hate to drive,” Hassan carefully felt his way. “It’s more that I find it a nuisance in New York City. But I thought that it would be better not to be tied to the Long Island Railroad’s schedule. Especially on a Sunday. So I borrowed a car from a friend at the consulate.”

Kali chuckled. “You sound like you’re anticipating a quick getaway. Not that I blame you. The best of families can be pretty heavy going at times.”

“I’ll say!”

Kali blinked at his heartfelt tone, wondering what he was thinking of. His own family? She frowned when she realized that she knew almost nothing about them. Just a couple of chance comments that added up to the fact that his mother was English and his parents were divorced.

“Hassan, do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“No sisters, but two brothers. I’m parked right out in front of your building.” He deliberately changed the subject, hoping he hadn’t sounded as abrupt to her as he did to himself. He could hardly give her any specifics about his brothers without lying, and he didn’t want to tell any more lies than he absolutely had to.

He held the lobby door open for her and then led her over to the large black Mercedes that Mohammed had loaned him.

“Very impressive.” Kali studied the leather interior as Hassan started the car. “I don’t think I’ve ever driven in anything this luxurious before.”

“Hmm” Hassan murmured, his mind completely taken up with the sound of her voice. She had the most intriguing voice he’d ever heard in a woman. Low and husky, full of feminine promise. And that was just in a normal, everyday setting. What would her voice sound like if he were to make love to her? Soft and dreamy? A sudden shaft of desire pierced his composure, making him grip the steering wheel tightly. Not now, he thought, forcing himself to concentrate on driving. There were enough distractions on the road without his adding the most dangerous one of all—sexual desire.

* * *

The trip out to Long Island took almost an hour. An hour during which Kali had become increasingly aware of Hassan’s physical presence: the way his long fingers competently gripped the wheel; the way his broad shoulders shifted as he steered the car; the length of his long legs so near to her own.

By the time they reached her home, she was beginning to feel rattled. As if she were a music box which had been wound too tightly and now couldn’t quite perform the way it was supposed to. But why? The question nagged at her. Why was she responding so strongly to him now, when she never had before?

Could it be because he was being more open with her than he had in the past? Like sharing his family nickname and taking her shopping? But it couldn’t be just that. She remembered the unprecedented surge of desire she’d felt when she’d opened the door yesterday afternoon and had seen him standing there. She’d experienced the attraction before he’d even said a word.

Maybe she shouldn’t try to figure it out, she considered. Maybe she should simply accept it as a good thing that she was so sexually attracted to the man she was going to marry.

But was it a good thing? she wondered uneasily.

She stole a quick glance at Hassan as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. Would Hassan think so? He’d been crystal clear about only wanting a wife who liked him. A wife who wouldn’t interfere with his work or make emotional demands on him. What would he say if she were to suddenly tell him that she was fast becoming obsessed with his body?