His Majesty's Mistake

“Impossible.”

“Have I ever lied to you about anything?”

She couldn’t answer and, jaw flexing, he looked away, dropping his gaze to the bright screen of his laptop computer.

Blanket pressed to her collarbone, Emmeline’s stomach heaved. Alejandro, already married? Father to five? Things just kept getting worse.

CHAPTER THREE

HOURS later, Emmeline was woken by the vibration of the jet’s landing gear unfolding, wheels in position in preparation for touching down. Half asleep, she glanced out the window but could see nothing below but pale gold … or was it beige? Maybe a little of both. No buildings, no lights, no roads, no sign of life. Just sand.

Emmeline groggily sat taller. Far in the distance she could see a spot of gray color. Or was it green? She didn’t know what it was but it couldn’t be a city, and there was no sprawling airport, either, and yet here they were making a sharp, steep descent as if they were about to land.

Just moments later, they touched down, the landing so smooth it was but a bump of sound and then the swift application of brakes. They hurtled along the black asphalt runway bordered on both sides by a vast reddish-gold desert. In the distance, in the same direction she’d spotted the gray-green patch, she could see a ragged range of mountains, but even those were copper and gold in the morning light.

She didn’t know why, but she’d expected a city. Most of the royal princes she knew in Dubai and the UAE lived in cosmopolitan cities—glamorous centers filled with fashion boutiques and deluxe hotels and five-star restaurants. Sheikhs today were modern and wealthier than the rest of the world, including their European counterparts. They could afford life’s every luxury, and they owned jets, yachts, rare cars, polo fields and strings of expensive ponies.

That was the world Emmeline had expected Sheikh Al-Koury to take her to. A sprawling urban city. But instead there was just sand. Sand and more sand. A virtual sea of sand in every direction, all the way to the rough-hewn mountains.

Emmeline had thought she could just put Hannah on a plane and get her here. But she wasn’t going to be able to sneak Hannah into the desert and change places with her without anyone knowing. They were in such a deserted spot that all incoming aircraft would immediately be noticed.

“You look disappointed.” Makin’s deep voice came from across the aisle.

Emmeline’s pulse quickened, and his deep husky timbre flooded her with memories—his appearance at the nightclub last night. His harsh opinion of Alejandro. His overwhelming physical presence.

“Why would I be disappointed?” she answered, with a casual arch of her eyebrow.

His silver gaze collided with hers and held. His features were granite-hard, his strong black eyebrows a slash above intense gray eyes. There was a light in his eyes, too, and a curve to his upper lip as if he weren’t pleased with what he saw, either.

Her pulse jumped, racing wildly. He was still intense, still overwhelming, and nausea threatened to get the best of her.

“You’ve never liked the desert and Kasbah Raha,” he said softly, his upper lip curling yet again. “You prefer life in Nadir with all the hustle and bustle.”

So they truly were in the middle of nowhere. Which meant getting Hannah into Raha undetected would be as nearly impossible as Emmeline getting out.

“That may be so,” she answered, hoping he didn’t hear the wobble in her voice, “but I love how the morning sun burnishes the sand, turning everything copper and gold.”

“How refreshing. You usually dread your time in the desert, saying Raha reminds you too much of your ranch in Texas.”

Emmeline valiantly tried to play along. “But I love the ranch. It’s where I grew up.”

“Maybe. But in Nadir you have friends, your own apartment in the palace, and numerous social activities, and when you’re here, you’re very much alone. Or alone with me.”

The “alone with him” part sent a tremor of anxiety through her. She couldn’t imagine spending another hour alone with him, much less days. She had to get Hannah here. Immediately.

His eyes suddenly gleamed, his full sensual mouth lifting in a mocking smile, and she could have sworn he knew exactly what she was thinking. She blushed, cheeks heating, skin prickling, even as she told herself it was impossible. He wasn’t a mind reader. He couldn’t possibly know how much he unsettled her.

And yet his gray eyes with those bright silver flecks were so direct, so perceptive she felt a quiver race through her, a quiver of dread and anticipation. He was so different from anyone she knew. So much more.

Makin’s long legs stretched carelessly into the aisle and his broad shoulders filled his chair. He was at least six feet two. While Alejandro was handsome, Makin Al-Koury exuded power.

“Fortunately, this time here you’ll be too busy assisting and entertaining my guests to feel isolated,” he added. “I trust that everything’s in place for their arrival?”

“Of course.” She smiled to hide the fact that she didn’t have a clue. But she’d soon find someone on his staff who would fill her in.

“Good. Because last night I seriously questioned your ability to pull this weekend off. But you slept most of the flight and appear more rested.”

“I am,” she answered, thinking that it was he who looked utterly fresh despite the fact that they’d been traveling for so long.

“Did you take something to help you sleep?”

“No. Why?”

“You aren’t usually able to fall asleep on flights.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that as she’d learned to sleep on planes at a very young age. She’d grown up traveling. There were always royal functions and goodwill tours and appearances, first with her family and then on her own.

She’d been a shy little girl, and even a timid teenager, but the media never knew that. All they saw was her face and how photogenic she was. By the time she was fifteen, the paparazzi had singled her out, crowning her as the great beauty of her generation. Since then she’d lived in the spotlight, with camera lenses constantly focused on her and journalists’ pens poised to praise or critique, and she never knew which until the article was published.

“I think I was too worn out not to sleep,” she said, and it was true. All she wanted to do lately was sleep, and apparently that was another side effect of pregnancy. “And you? Did you get any rest?”

“Less than I wanted,” he said, lashes dropping over his eyes, concealing his expression. “It was hard to sleep. I was—am—worried about you.”

She heard something in his deep voice that made her insides flip-flop.

Genuine emotion. True concern.

He might hate Emmeline but he adored Hannah.

Emmeline felt a sharp stab of envy. What she wouldn’t give to be the brilliant, efficient Hannah—a woman worthy of love and respect.

Awash in hot emotion, Emmeline looked away, out the jet’s oval window. They’d finally come to a full stop in this vast desert. Uniformed personnel appeared on the tarmac. A fleet of shining black vehicles waited just off to the side of the runway, sunlight glinting off the windows and polished surfaces. Even though it was early, heat shimmered in iridescent waves off the black tarmac and surrounding sand.

This vast hot shimmering desert was Sheikh Al-Koury’s world and now that she was here, Emmeline sensed her life would never be the same.

Makin stretched his legs out in the back seat of his custom car, a large, powerful sedan with tinted windows and reinforced panels to make it virtually bulletproof.

There hadn’t been an uprising in Kadar in over three hundred years, and it was unlikely there would be in the next three hundred, but trouble could come from outside his country. The fact that he controlled so much oil had put a target on his back years ago. Fortunately, he wasn’t a worrier, nor overly preoccupied with his own mortality. Instead he chose to live his life as his father had—without fear.

Makin relaxed a little, glad to be home.

His family had palaces all over Kadar but the rustic tribal kasbah in Raha had always been his favorite. Even the name Kasbah Raha—Palace of Rest—symbolized peace. Peace and calm. And it was. Here in the desert he was able to think clearly and focus without the noise and chaos of modern city life to distract him.

“Let’s go over today’s schedule,” he said to Hannah, as his driver accelerated, leaving the tarmac and the sleek white jet behind. She was sitting to his left, pale but composed. He was glad to see her so calm. It gave him hope that all the personal drama was now behind them. “Which of my guests arrive first? And when?”

He waited for Hannah to reach for her briefcase or her phone but she did nothing. Had nothing. Instead she looked at him, her expression slightly baffled. “I don’t … know.”

He hesitated, thinking she was joking, not that she normally teased about things like that. But after a beat and a moment of awkward silence, he realized she was serious.