The Sheikh’s Fake Engagement: The Blooming Desert Series Book One Read online

  He met her eyes, and a shock of pure desire ran down his spine. No—no. Ignore it. “Like what?”

  “I had the most marvelous dream last night.” Her eyes twinkled, the starlight still caught there.

  The groan that escaped him was absolutely inappropriate for the breakfast table. “Talitha—”

  Mahir rushed in through the side door with a hasty knock. “Your Highness, please excuse the interruption.”

  Good. He wouldn’t have to have this discussion with Talitha now. Did his relief make him a coward? “Go on, Mahir. We’re just eating.”

  “We’ve had several communiqués from the tribal leaders.” Mahir gave Talitha a warm smile, and she waved her fingers at him. Why? Why did she have to be so good at charming everyone she met? “They’re expecting your fiancée to be by your side for the jubilee.”

  The realization hit him like a one-two punch to the chest. Of course they would expect that. Now that news of the engagement had gotten out, the tribal leaders would have to be placated. He hadn’t gone to them personally with the news, which would have been expected. Talitha made him forget everything—or at least she made it hard to pay attention to those minute details. Another reason they couldn’t be together.

  And the jubilee still had to go off without a hitch. The tribal leaders themselves were descendants of the smaller nation-states that had been unified under Hamid’s family. They weren’t nomadic people any longer. The biggest group won the right to the oil concessions on shared lands, and they became the family in charge of doling out the subcontracts for all the labor involved in extracting, transporting, and selling the oil.

  “We’ll have to extend your time at the palace, Talitha. As long as that’s all right.”

  She nodded, grinning. Oh, this was going to be bad, wasn’t it? He couldn’t very well change the tradition. They would have to go along with it. That was the only way.

  But it nagged at him, burrowing deep into his mind the rest of the afternoon. Between meetings, he spent a free hour with Talitha and Rafiq, who’d come up with several questions about the ritual banquet at the jubilee. “What will there be to eat?” was the most pressing one.

  “Traditional foods,” Hamid told him, putting an arm around his son’s small shoulders. “Locust kabsa, which is a kind of rice. Stewed lizards. Snail soup. Things from the time when the kingdom was founded.”

  Rafiq made a face, and Talitha laughed. “I’m only joking,” Hamid said. “That’s what they used to have. Now there’s a type of specially stewed meat over rice. You’ll like it.”

  “I won’t!” shouted Rafiq, and ran off to his play area. Talitha was quick to follow.

  Back in his office, a new set of papers came across his desk. A request for flowers was among them. Flowers? He hadn’t thought of those, but obviously, obviously, they were a crucial part of the decorating. Every bit of the ceremony was conducted in accordance with the traditions they’d followed all these years. How could he not have ordered flowers?

  “Mahir,” he shouted. “Bring all the planning documents to me.”

  Mahir appeared in his doorway, red-faced and with his brows furrowed together. “Which planning documents, Your Highness?”

  “All the planning documents for the jubilee.”

  “Your Highness—”

  “All of them. Now.”

  There were five boxes of documents, and Hamid dug in with both hands. He barked at his staff to send him historical records as well and flipped through binder upon binder of facsimiles of first-hand accounts. It was a rabbit hole, and he’d fallen down it so deeply he thought he might never get back out again. Some of today’s traditions had been translated over the years to mean different things. Every visit had its provenance from years of paperwork before that. Hamid was going to understand it if it was the last thing he did. Every detail. People came in and out of his office at top speed, making one change here, another there. Late that night he called Mahir and the head of the party planning company in for an emergency meeting.

  “Run through the kickoff dinner.”

  The party planner, a graceful woman who didn’t let her confusion show, though she must have been confused, cleared her throat. “Everything is set but the flowers, Your Highness, and we can make those happen.”

  “I want every detail.” If he had enough of the details, then he could get himself back on solid ground. Then he would know what to do.

  It was almost midnight when the alert sounded on his computer for a video conference. Mahir sagged forward in his seat, relieved.

  “Thank you both.” Hamid waved them out. “I’ll be in contact in the morning.”

  He’d been putting off the video conference with his brother Raed, and now the man had caught him in his office. Fine. He answered the call. “Hello, Raed.”

  “I heard you’re tearing apart the palace for the jubilee,” Raed said lightly. “What’s going on?”

  “Things are slipping through the cracks. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “You know, you could always change a few things.” Raed studied his nails. “There are some other business leaders we could bring in to be recognized for their work. We’ve got an excellent class of up-and-coming writers who would appreciate the exposure. Maybe it’s time to rethink the way the ceremony is, if it’s causing you so much stress.”

  “I’m not stressed,” Hamid shot back. “I’m trying to do this in a way that will telegraph our respect for the old ways and the ancient agreements between the people of our nation.”

  “Okay.” Raed leaned back against the sofa, stretching his arms out along the back. “But don’t the people of our nation also live here now? What good it is to them if we stick so closely to the old ways that they never get their moment in the sun?”

  A surliness overtook Hamid, and he struggled to keep the frown off his face. “They’ll get their moment in the sun if the kingdom is successful. That should be enough.”

  Raed leaned close to the screen as if he could peer around the room behind Hamid. “Where’s your fiancée? I’d love to talk with her.”

  “She’s asleep.”

  “Is she? With her husband-to-be working so late, I’d half expect her to be in the office with you, bringing tea and snacks. I’ve heard that queens are always involved in jubilee ceremonies.”

  “She’s not the queen.” Hamid pretended to flip through some of the papers on his desk. They’d gotten out of hand today. All right. He could amend that. Planning for the jubilee didn’t necessarily have to involve a full historical review. Although maybe it did. Maybe he’d been coming up short because he had strayed from the path of his ancestors.

  “Come on, Hamid,” Raed said finally. “What aren’t you saying about her? You’ve barely talked to me about your surprise engagement. Has it already gone off the rails?”

  “Off the rails,” Hamid scoffed. “No, it hasn’t.”

  “Are you sure? If you tell me a bit more about it, maybe I can help.”

  “Please. You’re wildly unqualified to give romantic advice. You are never serious about women.”

  Raed blinked, shaking his head a little bit, and Hamid knew he’d hit a nerve. So what? Raed wasn’t serious about women. He liked the royal lifestyle that made him popular, but Hamid couldn’t imagine a future where he happily settled down of his own free will. Hamid studied his brother on the camera a little closer. Raed did look worn around the edges, but it was midnight—whatever he’d been doing, he was up late, too. Should he pry? Probably not, given that he’d just shut down Raed’s attempts to talk to him about Talitha.

  “Is it something else, then?” God bless Raed. He’d keep trying, again and again, even when the situation was clearly not in his favor. Hamid didn’t much look forward to this same scene playing out in the next video conference, so he put on a smile. A big smile. It looked fake on the screen, and he pulled it back.

  “I told you, a few things have...escaped my attention lately.” Because all of my attention has
been on Talitha and when I can see her next or talk to her next or touch her next, and now we’ve slept together and I’ve probably ruined everything. It was never supposed to get this far. “I’ve spent a long day in the office trying to set everything to rights.”

  “Right. Could you ease up a little?”

  The sharpness at the edges of Raed’s tone took Hamid by surprise. Raed looked straight into the camera, so it appeared he could see right through Hamid. How unsettling. “What?”

  “Everyone’s talking about how you’ve gone overboard with planning for an event that’s already been planned, big brother. The staff is worried about you. They’re worried for themselves. Is there any way I can convince you to loosen up?”

  Hamid snatched a folder from the middle of his desk. “You can run through these dinner plans with me. I still think something’s off, and it’s not just the flowers.”

  “Flowers,” echoed Raed, and rubbed both hands over his face. “Sure, Hamid. I’ve got time.”

  14

  The jubilee celebration dinner rushed up on all of them like it had been waiting to pounce. A week rolled into itself and threw them out the other side, and even though Hamid had asked Tali to stay longer, it felt like time was speeding up to make it an unnervingly quick visit.

  Today, she couldn’t think about that. Today was the jubilee celebration banquet that would kick off all the rest of the ceremonies, and Nenet wasn’t well.

  Tali looked over her shoulder in the vanity mirror in Nenet’s dressing room and met the older woman’s eyes. They’d been slowly getting ready throughout the afternoon, but even things as simple as putting her pantyhose on had made Nenet so winded she had to lie down. Tali had offered to curl her still-luxurious hair, and now Nenet looked gorgeous.

  “You look so beautiful,” Tali told her. “And you also look simultaneously exhausted.”

  Nenet’s shoulders drooped. “It’s not such a big deal now. It used to be that the first celebration dinner took place out in a specially constructed tent. Now it’s a walk downstairs to the ballroom, but I don’t know, Tali. I’m not sure I’m up to it.” A fire came to her eyes, and she tried her best to straighten up. “But I have to be. It’s the banquet. I won’t let Hamid down.”

  Tali pressed her lips together. This family, beloved as they were becoming to her, was so focused on being there for other people that they put their own lives on the back burner. Well, wasn’t she guilty of doing that herself? Never mind. It was Nenet who looked like she needed to rest, not play hostess at a state dinner.

  “Nenet, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you needed to lie down for the evening.”

  “It’s not just him,” fretted Nenet. “His cousin Skandar—his favorite cousin—will be in the palace tonight. If he sees that I’m not there, word will get out that I’m a frail old woman who can’t attend family events any longer.”

  “You are not. I get tired sometimes, too. And he wouldn’t mind at all, I’m sure of it.” Tali smoothed her hands down over Nenet’s hair. “Why don’t you just prop yourself up on your pillows for a little while and close your eyes? I’ll go talk to Hamid about the dinner.”

  “Maybe just a little while.” But Nenet was slow getting up from her seat and needed Tali’s help. The two women took tiny steps to the bed, and Nenet didn’t bother to pull up the pillows. She sank into them like she’d been running all day, a relieved breath escaping her. “Don’t let me miss the dinner,” she mumbled.

  Tali pulled a silky blanket over her and by the time she reached the door, the other woman’s breathing was deep and even.

  She found Hamid in his rooms, standing in front of a mirror in his walk-in closet and adjusting the cuffs of his traditional robe over and over. He fiddled with his ring, turning it around his fingers, his face a picture of stress—deep furrows in his forehead and the corners of his lips turned down into what was very nearly a scowl.

  “Hi,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him. He met her eyes in the mirror, and all of that stress fell away from his expression, his kingly mask slipping into place. Was it entirely a mask, though? The light in his dark eyes looked genuine. “How are you?”

  “Ready for the dinner to begin.”

  Tali went to him and smoothed his cuffs. That was all it took to draw a muffled groan from him, and then his lips were on hers, his broad hand spreading against her back, and he ran a hand around to the back of her neck, pulling her in close. My hair, she thought of saying, but then Hamid was pushing her dress up to her hips. She scrambled to find the hem of his robe, and he managed to pull the whole thing off in one quick motion. She loosened the pants he wore under it, pulling the hard length of him free. Touching him at all was enough to make her feel wet and hungry for him.

  He kissed her again, urgent and fast, and sat down heavily on a bench in the center of the room. Tali straddled him. My god, he was big, bobbing there between their bodies. Hamid reached for a drawer and rolled on a condom, and Tali rose up, pushing herself down onto his length inch by inch. This angle, this depth—oh, it was something new and different, and pleasure coiled in her belly and sparked out to her fingertips.

  “Are we doing this?” she gasped. Are we having hasty sex in your closet before an important state dinner?

  Hamid answered her with a thumb against her clit, making her come fast. Small, jerky, anguished moans escaped her at the power of it. Only then did he take her hips in his hands and pull her down against him, working her the way he wanted, and she tipped her head back and lost herself in the sheer pleasure of a strong man taking her body this way. Oh, it was good, it was so good—

  So good she came again, just before he did. The tension of him sang to her. The hard muscles of his thighs encased in exquisite fabric. The elegant slope of his throat, swallowing hard. Hamid dropped his forehead to her shoulder, and they sat that way in the stillness until they’d caught their breath.

  Tali stood, letting her gown fall back down over her legs, and Hamid looked up at her with an expression that was half lust, half wonder. She reached down to smooth his hair into place. Her pulse still fluttered in the side of her neck. Maybe it would keep fluttering all night long. She hoped it would.

  Hamid stood up and put himself back together. He paused before replacing his robe. “Did you need something? Other than that.”

  “Nothing at all.” Every nerve buzzed with residual pleasure. What could she possibly need? Nothing, nothing, nothing. Tali surveyed herself in the mirror—a few locks out of place here, but a lovely high color in her cheeks. She fixed her hair, kissed Hamid on the cheek, and floated out of the walk-in closet.

  It wasn’t until she was almost at the ballroom that she thought of Nenet. Well, no matter. She would oversee preparations for the dinner in Nenet’s place. After all, her purpose here was to help Hamid’s business, and stepping into the role of hostess was part of it. An important part. Nenet would forgive her.

  “Is my dad coming soon?” Rafiq hurried down the hall toward her, obviously trying not to run, a big smile on his face. “I’ve got my robes on.”

  “I see that. You look very dapper.” Tali leaned down to adjust the front of his robe. “Want to come with me to check on things in the kitchen?”

  “Yes!” Rafiq shouted, then looked around to make sure nobody had heard. “Yes,” he whispered, and off they went.

  The kitchen was all hustle and bustle, the chef calling out orders and extra staff on hand to make the dinner go smoothly. It was still not going smoothly. The traditional recipes weren’t cooked very often—only once a year—and most of the staff had never worked a jubilee before. One woman came up to meet her and Rafiq and guide them around the kitchen. She had an enormously comforting smile and a no-nonsense attitude about her.

  “This huge pot is pacheh,” she told them as they swept down one of the rows of stove tops. “Stewed cows’ feet and head.”

  “Tali,” Rafiq said in a stage whisper that was as loud as a shout. “Do I have to—”


  “I will if you will,” Tali murmured, cutting off the eat that she imagined would come next. She caught a glimpse of something—a pile of remnants—near the pot, and as they stepped away another sous-chef lifted the lid and dipped in a ladle to pull out more of those...remnants. A moment later, hooves and heads tumbled into a garbage can.

  Oh, no. Tali knew from her discussions with Hamid that this was not how the dish was supposed to be made. In formal presentations, the…remnants…were to be still in the serving dishes. But what was she going to do about it now?

  “You’re all doing great,” she called to whoever could hear her in the immediate vicinity. No matter what happened at the actual dinner, she’d own it. She’d get them through.

  “Thank you,” the sous-chef who was leading them on the tour answered. “This way, and I’ll show you the baked sweets.”

  But Tali couldn’t get that pot out of her mind. Even one ruined dish would signal disaster to Hamid. They needed to fix the problem, and they needed to fix it before the dinner was in full progress.

  “Where can I find a cow?” she mused to herself.

  “There are no cows in the palace,” Rafiq said. “Not anywhere.”

  “Maybe not. But I did see a bull at one point... I think we need to talk to Mahir.”

  “About dinner? Do you think he’s hungry?”

  Tali laughed. “I think everyone in the palace will be hungry by dinnertime, don’t you?”

  They went to find Mahir in his office, and she sweet-talked him into going over the guest list with her, though he really didn’t have time. The seating arrangements looked good to Tali’s eye—they’d obviously been gone over with a fine-toothed comb—but what gave her another twinge of anxiety was that many of the tribal chiefs were seated directly in front of where the food would be displayed. They would notice what had happened with that pot.

  Okay. Problem solve. Limited time, but almost unlimited means. That was one of the perks of being in the palace. She could make this happen with enough people to help, and if they did...