Not that her kissing technique mattered, he told himself. He had kissed her and therefore won the bet. He opened his mouth to tell his brother, then stopped himself. For reasons that made no sense to anyone—least of all him—he didn’t want Malik to know what had happened. As if that silly kiss had meant something.
“She’s not horrible,” he said at last. “She’s bright and has a sense of humor.”
Malik straightened. “You’re talking about Heidi McKinley, right?” He held up his hand at shoulder level. “About this tall. Glasses, hair back in a bun, ugly clothes.”
“They’re not ugly. She’s lacking in fashion sense, but she has potential.”
Malik didn’t look convinced. “You’d have to do some pretty deep digging. I’ll admit no one would ask her to wear a bag over her head, but she’s no beauty.”
“Just because her attractiveness isn’t glaring and obvious doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
Malik swore. “You like her,” he accused. “Dammit, Jamal, the woman is a stick-in-the-mud. Didn’t she give you that scrunchy-nose glare thing she does?”
He smiled. “Yes. It’s charming.”
“She poisoned you or something. Do you feel sick? Did you fall and hit your head? You can’t tell me that you actually don’t mind spending time with her.”
“I don’t.”
Malik glared at him. “You’ve dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Are you telling me that Heidi McKinley stands up to them?”
Jamal was saved from answering by the appearance of his father and grandmother. They moved past Malik and stepped into his office.
Malik glanced from his relatives back to Jamal. “This looks serious. I’ll be leaving. But don’t think we aren’t going to finish this conversation,” he promised. “I want to know what’s wrong with you.”
He left, closing Jamal’s door behind him. The king and Fatima settled into the two leather chairs on the visitor’s side of his desk.
“What does Malik think is wrong with you?” Fatima asked as she smoothed her silk skirt into place.
“Nothing important.”
As always his grandmother looked lovely. Today she wore a purple dress that emphasized her still-slender shape. The king wore a business suit, as he usually did during the work day. At night or on weekends, he favored the El Baharian traditional garb of cotton pants and a shirt, both covered by a robe.
“We’re here about Heidi,” the king began in his usual forthright way. “It is time you remarried, and she is the bride I have chosen for you.”
His father didn’t believe in subtle, Jamal thought humorously. It made for short, to-the-point conversations.
“There are many advantages to the union,” Fatima said, leaning toward him. “Heidi has a great interest in El Baharian history. She adores the country and understands the customs. Her time in Switzerland has prepared her to handle most of the social functions she’ll be required to attend. She’s healthy, intelligent, and she wants children. On a more personal note, I believe she’s quite fond of you.”
“She doesn’t know me well enough to be fond of me or not,” Jamal said. “And that’s not the point. Heidi is, as you’ve pointed out, an intelligent woman. She’s not interested in marrying anyone at this point in her life. She should be free to choose her future husband. Let her have a normal courtship. Let her meet someone and fall in love.”
“What’s to say she won’t fall in love with you?” Fatima asked. “You’re a prince in more ways than one.”
Jamal smiled at his grandmother, but he didn’t answer the question. In his experience, women didn’t like princes for their great personalities and sparkling wit. Women liked princes because of what they could get, be it money, status, position or power. In all his life, he’d never met a female who was interested in him for himself. He doubted he ever would.
“Do you defy me on this?” King Givon asked.
Jamal knew he was treading on dangerous territory. “Father, I will abide by your wishes. I understand my duty is to marry and produce heirs. I’m only asking you to reconsider your choice. I spent some time with Heidi last evening and found her to be a lovely young woman. I would hate to see her trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want.”
“Even if that marriage is to you?”
Especially if it was to him, but he didn’t tell the king that.
“I believe she is the right choice,” the king said. He leaned forward and placed his fist on the table. “I am not wrong in this matter.”
“You were wrong about Yasmin,” Jamal said flatly. “You were wrong about Malik’s wife.”
Fatima glared at him. “You will not speak of her,” she said quickly, meaning Malik’s wife, not Jamal’s. “As for Yasmin, yes, we were both wrong about her, but she is gone. You and El Bahar are well rid of her.”
Jamal agreed completely on the idea of being free of Yasmin. Unlike Heidi, Yasmin had wanted nothing more than to be married to a prince. She had adored nearly everything about the life. The only part she’d disliked was him. Unfortunately he’d been young and stupid and hadn’t seen that truth until it was too late. He’d made the mistake of falling in love with his shallow wife. He’d been a fool and had vowed never to make that mistake again.
“Don’t do this to Heidi,” he said. “Find me another woman, and I’ll gladly marry.”
“No,” the king said, rising to his feet. “She is the one. The wedding will be at the end of the month.”
His father swept out of the room.
Jamal turned his attention to his grandmother. “Can’t you talk to him?”
“I don’t want to. Heidi is the perfect choice for you.” She smiled. “Ask her, Jamal. I don’t believe she’ll refuse you.”
He wanted to beg her to refuse him, Jamal thought three days later as he and Heidi walked in the same garden where they’d shared their first kiss. For the past seventy-two hours, he’d tried to figure a way out of the situation, but he could not. He’d avoided both her and his family, but that hadn’t been enough. Just that morning the king had brought him a glittering diamond ring. The implication was clear.
Jamal could refuse his father’s wishes. He’d defied him enough in the past—especially when he’d been a teenager. But those rebellions had been over small matters, never issues that affected the well-being of his beloved El Bahar. A prince owed his country heirs. A son owed a father obedience. Those truths had been taught to him from the cradle. He might have many flaws, but he knew his duty. So tonight he walked beside a young woman that he had—for a brief time—liked.
The irony of the situation reflected the blackness of his soul. As long as Heidi didn’t want him, she proved that she was not interested in all a prince had to offer. Then he was free to enjoy her company. To talk with her, perhaps even be her friend. But the second she agreed to marry him, she became like the others—greedy, grasping, determined to be a princess in every sense of the word.
He’d spent the past three days avoiding her in an effort to convince himself that she wasn’t like them. That perhaps they had a chance at a happy marriage. But now, walking with her, his doubts returned. He would ask—she would say yes—and all would be lost.
“Did