She moved toward the balcony, a muffin in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. She had plenty of time to shower before anyone would expect her to begin work for the day. For now she would look over the palace gardens and soak in the moment.
This was the start of her new life. Free and brave. That was what she was going to be.
She breathed in the fresh air as she set her coffee and muffin aside for a moment and stepped out onto the terrace. A cheer rose up. Flashbulbs exploded.
Piper screamed.
The palace grounds, almost always deserted at this time of morning, were filled with people. And cameras. She was nearly blinded as more flashbulbs went off. There was a whooshing sound and the heavy thud of helicopter blades. A sleek black chopper swooped down, and a man with a camera, complete with a long telephoto lens, leaned out the window.
The crowd erupted in another huge cheer. A thousand people jumped up and down shouting the al Mussad name.
Piper turned, trying desperately to get back inside, but she got caught in the filmy curtains, twisting and turning around. It was a labyrinth of linen and silk, trapping her.
“What the hell?” Tal’s voice rang out. “Rafe, get up. We’ve got a problem. Get on the phone and deal with the press.” There was a momentary pause. “Piper? Darling? If you stop moving, I think I can extricate you from the curtains.”
“Sheikh!” The swelling crowd chanted for Talib.
“I think I’ll just stay here.” If Tal got her out, she would be standing in front of a whole bunch of people wearing only Tal’s shirt, which she was pretty sure had blown up when that damn helicopter had swooped down. She might just stay right here forever, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with the possibility that her hoohaw had been caught on film.
“Darling, I’m very sorry this happened, but I need you to come out now.” His big masculine hand reached in, trying to catch her.
Piper dodged him. She wasn’t coming out until she had some answers. “Who are those people?”
The curtains moved, jostling her around, and then she heard Kade’s voice. “They’re just citizens, habibti. They gathered because they heard we have taken a new concubine.”
“God, can you not just say girlfriend? That word sounds so…medieval.” She sniffled, tears threatening. They had taken pictures of her half-naked, looking her absolute worst. Was this the Bezakistani version of the paparazzi?
“We’re going to have to tell her now, Kade,” Tal said, his voice heavy. “Khalil did this. I just know it. I swear I’m going to have his head.”
Kade’s head poked through the curtains. “Piper, we need to talk, explain a few things.”
“Why does anyone care that we slept together? Does this happen to all your girlfriends?” She wasn’t even sure she could call herself his girlfriend. She’d only slept with them once. They hadn’t made her any promises.
Kade’s face tightened. “Tal, shouldn’t Rafiq be the one to explain? He’s the smart one.”
Tal seemed to be trying to force the curtains open. Piper held them shut. On the one hand, it was hot and slightly suffocating in all this fabric. But on the other was total embarrassment on a national scale. Maybe she could listen to their explanation from here.
“Rafe is currently speaking to the press,” Tal argued. “And I have little doubt they’re getting anxious and beginning to wonder exactly what is wrong with our concubine.”
“Wrong with me? Why do they care about me at all?” Piper asked, panic creeping into her voice .
Kade took a long breath, muttering something that she would bet wasn’t a polite thing to say in his language. “Piper, my dearest, a concubine means something a little different here. You know the word to mean a lover or mistress. Here in Bezakistan, it’s always meant the woman the sheikh and his brothers will marry. As Rafe and I explained, it’s tradition in our country to steal a bride. We don’t do that in precisely the same fashion our ancestors did, but…the practice is still both accepted and expected.”
“What does that have to do with concubines?”
“Well, even though we steal a bride, she must still agree to marry us. According to our laws, she has a month to decide. During that month, she is called the concubine.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. They think you’re trying to marry me.”
It was horrific. How could anyone think they—unbelievably rich and powerful men—would want to marry her? It was a mistake of historic proportions.
Kade’s hand finally made it through the yards of curtains. He cupped her face. “Yes, they think that. We tried to keep our interest in you quiet so this wouldn’t happen.”