Claimed by the Desert Sheikh: The Sheikh and the Pregnant Bride / Desert King, Pregnant Mistress / Desert Prince, Expectant Mother

“I doubt Prince Charles will be of much help.”

“Just a thought.”

“He’s too old for you, and married.”

Maggie laughed. “Thanks, but he’s also not my type.”

“Not looking for a handsome prince? Some of the women here have exactly that in mind. Or perhaps a foreign diplomat.”

Maggie glanced away. “Not my style. Besides, I work with cars. Not exactly future princess material.” She held out her weathered hands. “I’m more of a doer than someone who is comfortable just sitting around looking pretty.”

“That is the monarchy’s loss.”

She laughed again. “Very smooth. You’re good.”

“Thank you.”

“The women must be lined up for miles.”

He smiled. “There’s a waiting area over by the garden.”

“I hope it’s covered. You don’t want them getting sunburned.”

As she spoke she leaned against the desk. She was tall. He couldn’t see much of her shape under the coveralls she wore, but he remembered how she had looked the previous day and was intrigued. Curves and a personality, not to mention humor. How often did he find that combination?

A flicker of heat burst to life inside him, making him wonder how she would taste if he kissed her. Not that he was going to. He was far more interested in her abilities as a mechanic than her charms as a woman. But a man could wonder …

He amused himself by imagining his father’s reaction if he were to start dating Maggie. Would the monarch be horrified, or would he be pleased to see yet another of his sons settling down? Not that it mattered. Speculation was one thing, but acting was another—and he had no plans to act.

“I come bearing food,” Victoria said as she stepped into the garage. “One of the cooks told me you never get away for lunch. He assumes you don’t appreciate his culinary masterpieces. Trust me, those are people you don’t want to annoy.”

Maggie straightened and set down her wrench, then pulled off her gloves. “Thanks for the warning. I’ve been so busy pulling everything apart, I haven’t stopped to eat.”

Victoria set the basket on a cart. “Let me guess. You’re one of those annoying people who forgets to eat.”

“Sometimes.”

“Then we’ll never be really, really close.”

Maggie laughed. “I think you’re a strong enough person to overlook that flaw. Come on. Let’s go eat in my office. It’s cleaner there.”

While Maggie washed her hands in the small bathroom, Victoria set out their lunch. She’d brought a salad with walnuts, arugula and Gorgonzola. Several mini sandwiches on fresh foccacia bread, fruit, drinks and chocolate-chip cookies that were still warm.

“I thought I was supposed to avoid dessert,” Maggie said as she took her seat.

Victoria settled in the one opposite. “It’s your fault. I had to placate the cooks.” She slipped off her high heels and wiggled her toes. “Heaven.”

“Why do you wear those if they hurt?”

“They don’t all hurt. Besides, without them, I feel short and unimpressive. Plus men really like women in high heels.”

Maggie laughed. “I’ve never thought about being impressive. And I’ve never tried to get a man that way. By being attractive.”

“You could in a heartbeat,” Victoria told her as she speared a piece of lettuce. “I would kill for your bone structure.”

The compliment pleased Maggie. She’d always thought of herself as a tomboy. Girls like Victoria usually avoided her.

“How is it working with Qadir?” Victoria asked.

“Great. He really wants me to make the car perfect, which is what I want, too. I love not having a budget. It’s very freeing. The progress is going to be slow at first, which he understands. I appreciate that. He’s—”

She pressed her lips together as Victoria raised her eyebrows. “What?” Maggie asked.

“Nothing. I’m glad he’s an excellent boss.”

“That’s what you asked me.”

“I meant as a man.”

“Oh.” Maggie grabbed a sandwich. “He’s fine.”

Victoria laughed. “He’s a sheik prince worth billions. He’s one of the most sought-after bachelors in the world and all you can say is he’s fine?”

Maggie grinned. “How about really fine?”

“Better, but still. You’re really not interested in him.”

“Not as anything but the man who pays me.”

“Interesting. Then I guess you won’t be angling for an invitation to the ball.”

Maggie nearly choked. “There’s going to be a ball?”

“Uh-huh. To celebrate Prince As’ad’s engagement to Kayleen. They’ve been together for a while now, but no one was supposed to know. The official announcement was put off until Princess Lina, the king’s sister, married King Hassan of Baharia a few weeks ago. Anyway, the ball is where the news is made public and everyone who works in the palace is invited. Apparently when the guest list is a thousand, what’s a couple hundred more?”

“I’ve never been to a ball,” Maggie admitted. Her only frame of reference was cartoons with princesses as stars and she hadn’t really been into watching them.

“Me, either, but I’m very excited. It’s sort of a once-in-a-lifetime chance to wear a formal gown and dance with a handsome prince. I’ll be hoping Nadim finally sees me as a person and not his efficient secretary.”

“But you don’t love him,” Maggie said.

“I know. I wasn’t kidding before—love is for suckers. But if he offered me a sensible marriage of convenience, I sure wouldn’t say no. I think I could be a good wife to him. Better than some of those plastic bimbos his father parades around the palace. Anyway, my point is, you should come to the ball. It will be great fun. You can tell your grandchildren about it.”

Maggie wasn’t exactly tempted, although the idea was a little intriguing. She’d come to El Deharia to get away, but also to experience something new in her life.

“I’m not much of a dancer.”

“They lead, you follow. I have an appointment to try on dresses. Come with me. It’ll get you in the mood.”