“And maybe, I will conveniently forget to mention the fact that there was a fiancé mart going on over here.” She scrunched her face up, as if this was all a joke. “I don’t know. I can’t decide if it looks bad if I omit the fact and let them jump to all kinds of conclusions like I did or if it is worse that you are picking a wife from a list of eligible candidates.”
“What conclusions did your devious mind jump to?”
“That you were building your own personal harem.”
Zayn hadn’t been shocked in a while, if ever. There were very few surprises in life for him. One extremely unpleasant one had been the exposé by Celebrity Spy! and the domino-like disasters it had started toppling in his life.
This was the second time. Of all the things in the world, the slender, pale woman to threaten him... His anger came slowly even then, like a discordant note underneath the shock coursing through him. Slowly, that shock dissipated, too, and he was thinking rationally again.
Only one course of action was suddenly visible to him.
The woman looked like an angel—all innocent outrage and yet, she had the guts to go up against him for her brother. There was no doubt. Zayn had never met a woman like her before.
“What you’re saying constitutes blackmail. And the man you’re blackmailing is the Sheikh of Khaleej, the most powerful man in the country. If you tangle with me, even your lofty connections in high places cannot protect you from the consequences. I could whisper a word and ruin your career prospects forever, if you do really have a career. I could make sure your father is never employed again by any university in Khaleej.”
Her skin took on a pale cast, making her topaz eyes gleam like rare gems even more. “If I’m going down, I’ll take you with me. But I will not let my brother rot in jail while there is still something I could do about it. I will not leave him to your tender, inconsistent mercies.”
Zayn couldn’t take the risk of this woman being out in the world, armed with the knowledge she had in her grip now.
He had made a bluff and she had called him on it. And at the end of it all, Mirah’s wedding would be at stake, her future happiness at stake.
And there was only one way he could see out of this. He didn’t like the decision one bit. He would have to put his plans on hold for a while. He would have to make do with this stubborn, irreverent, brassy woman, at least until things calmed down. Maybe even until Mirah’s wedding took place and the furor about his image and his allegedly scandalous private life calmed down.
The woman had the balls to blackmail a sheikh. While she was still thoroughly unsuitable to be his mistress, much less his sheikha, she was at least equipped to carry out this pretense; she would survive in the fierce political wranglings of the palace.
“There is only one solution I see for the situation you have created, Amalia.”
“Oh, I’m Amalia again?”
Now that he had come to a decision, her adversarial tone amused Zayn. He didn’t trust the cunning minx one bit but he had to admit she was an entertaining diversion after the recent publicity fiasco. “Seeing that we are going to be closely involved over the next few months, maybe even years, it seems only appropriate that I call you Amalia.” He took her stiff hands in his and pressed a kiss to the back of one hand. Her hand was cold and smooth against his lips, the tremor in her fingers going a long way to smooth his ire.
She jerked her hand back as if burned. Her feet stumbled in her anxiety to get away from him and he caught her by the waist. A sudden, raw image of that indent of her waist bared naked to him came with such forceful mastery that he loosened his hold on her.
The rough rush of her breath only heightened his awareness of her, the soft but unyielding femininity in his hands. “Now who’s talking crazy, Your Highness?”
“I have to insist you call me Zayn. Or else it is going to look very suspicious. Whatever our differences in private, Amalia, we have to put on a good show for the public and the media. The chemistry I feel between us should help with that.”
This time she pushed away from him again, and took several steps more. He laughed and she glared at him. “And I insist that you tell me what the hell is going on in your twisted mind right now.”
He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “And here I thought your intelligence might become an insurmountable barrier in our relationship.”
“What relationship? And for God’s sake, if you’re calling me stupid, then just do it in plain words.”
“Noted for future. I am telling you that I have made my choice. You are going to be my future wife for—”
She pulled her wrap around her like a weapon and headed for the door. If Zayn wasn’t blocking the door, he had a feeling she would have disappeared like the morning mist against a rising sun. If it stopped there, Zayn would have gladly let her go.
But he knew, as surely as the fact that he was taking a huge risk with her, she would not simply give up on her brother because she was attracted to the sheikh. At least, keeping her close, he could mitigate the risk she presented to his plans.
“Like hell I am.”
“We will have to clean up your language, ya habibiti. Or no one will believe that it is a love match.”
“I’m not your dear or darling. You think the world is foolish enough to assume Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi is capable of falling in love?”
“I like that you’re able to understand me so well already. Since it will be impossible to convince anyone that marrying you is advantageous to me in any way, we have to resort to the instant-love, must-marry approach.”
She came toward him then. The anxiety and panic in her eyes went a long way toward pacifying Zayn. “I cannot marry you.”
“I’m not offering the option to you.” He let his upper lip curl in distaste. “I stand by my word. You’re thoroughly unsuitable to be my wife. But you have very cunningly made yourself into a liability for me. A liability I have to take care of, at all costs.
“If I let you loose in the world, I have no idea what that tart mouth of yours will do. If I keep you, a strange, unmarried female in the palace, there will be talk about it. So, this is the only solution that is acceptable.
“You will be my fiancée, for all intents and purposes, until I say otherwise. And you will do so with grace and sophistication, and you will do the Al-Ghamdi family and Khaleej proud. When I deem it wise to release you on the world again, you will leave Sintar and Khaleej.”
“I refuse to participate in this charade.”
“The other option is to imprison you, too. Maybe I can have a special cell built for you by your twin’s side. Believe me, Amalia, that idea fills me with immense pleasure.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“Quid pro quo.”
“I...no one will believe that you chose me. I might choke before the first week is up. And how do you know I won’t still go to the media, that I will trust you to do the right thing?”
“You won’t jeopardize his chances of release.” He still could not believe that his cousin would let an innocent man take the fall like this. “I know how strong the need to ensure your sibling’s happiness could be, especially if you are the stronger one.”
“Aslam is not weak. He...just, he never recovered from our parents’ split.”
“You were just as young.”
“I learned to manage.”
He laughed again. “Can respond with calm and reason in extreme situations,” he said, mimicking her earlier tone. “Think of it as a challenge in your job.”
“Fine, but only if you promise that you will look into Aslam’s matter. And not after months or years, but immediately. Order your cousin home. Have my brother put in a minimum-care facility.”
His face hardened. “If he is guilty, Amalia, I warn you now, nothing you do will make me help him.”
“I know that he is not guilty.”
Stubbornness could have been defined with this woman in mind. “Fine. I will look into it. But remember, one toe out of line in public or in front of anyone else, one small glimpse of that irreverent attitude toward me in front of anyone else, and I will make sure Aslam never sees sunlight again.
“No one should suspect that this is a farce that came about because you had the gall to blackmail the sheikh.”
Eyes wide in her expressive face, she nodded. Irritated beyond measure, Zayn left the office. Before he was tempted to either kiss or kill the woman.
Neither impulse was one he could give in to, at least in the near future.
CHAPTER FOUR
“HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi commands your presence for dinner in his private garden...”
Amalia barely swallowed her gasp as the guard delivered his message with a straight face and left her standing in the sitting lounge of the suite she’d been shown to two evenings ago.
She hadn’t been allowed to go back to her hotel to collect her things. No, she’d been marched straight here, to this wing of the palace, and her things had been brought to her so quickly that she’d barely even missed them.
And then she’d been left to stew in her doubts and anxiety for two whole days, while guards stood outside her suite. Finally, forty-eight hours later, he was deigning to see her.
Commands, not requests...not even invites... No, commands. How she wished to throw the sheikh’s imperious command in his face and march out of the palace and straight out of Khaleej. How had she let herself be embroiled in such a crazy scheme that was worthy of... Aslam?