“Ella,” Rose said suddenly, turning to call after her. “Do you happen to know if Mac is in the house?”
“He went to look at some foals up in the Panhandle. Didn’t he tell you? He said he was going to.” Now Ella’s expression was perplexed.
Rose shook her head before she could give away her own surprise. It wasn’t like Makin to disappear like that! Perhaps her suggestion of an arranged marriage had rattled him more than he wanted to admit.
Then again, a few days to himself to digest the startling suggestion she’d put forth might be the best thing.
For just a moment, Rose wondered if Kadar was up to something. It was strange that both men were gone at once.
Then she shrugged it off. Kadar and Makin were grown men. They wouldn’t do anything rash.
CADE WAS ASTONISHED when his plane was met by a respectful retinue of men dressed in long robes and head ornamentation. Though he was wearing jeans and boots, he went through the traditional Arabian greetings.
“Welcome, Prince Makin,” one serious-looking official said to him.
Cade started. “I—” He swallowed. This was the time to come clean, to say that he was not the prince they thought. “I am happy to be here,” he said. All he’d done was place a call to the king’s adviser to let him know he’d dash by for a quick meeting with the ruler before he went on his travels. He hadn’t expected the royal treatment!
“The king awaits your arrival,” a taller man said, pointing Cade toward a black Mercedes limo.
Cade got in. I’m doing this for my brother. I can handle lunch with the king. It’s not an afternoon of business golf or anything. It’s lunch, a little schmoozing, hopefully a sneak peek at the princess, and I’m outta here.
His stomach tightened as the five stern-looking officials fitted themselves into the limo around him. It was clear that this was a mission of utmost dignity for them. The bulletproof windows were meaningful evidence that everything about this mission was important. His brother would not have enjoyed this grave treatment at all.
Any princess that lives with this bunch of stiffs guarding her is probably going to be a pain in the rump, he told himself.
I’m doing the right thing for Mac.
PRINCESS SERENA Wilson-Al Farid allowed her maidservants to dress her in silence. To her surprise, Serena had learned that her intended groom was already on the way from the airport to meet her. Apparently he was more eager than she for the match. In one way, it was a compliment to her.
In another way, it had to mean that Prince Makin was very interested in solidifying his position within the royal family and possibly securing a future throne for himself. This was the most likely scenario, and Serena had to admit she didn’t much like the sensation that she was merely a marital chip to one man’s ambition.
And yet that was the reality of her situation.
“You are beautiful, Princess,” she was duly informed.
It wouldn’t matter if she were as ugly as intrigue, but she nodded in thanks for the compliment.
The ladies bowed their heads to her respectfully as they filed from the room. Serena glanced down at the shimmering cloth that had been skillfully draped to cover her and yet reveal her feminine charms and beauty. Amethyst with gold adornment highlighted her hair and the depth of her eyes.
It was all rather wasted on an American cowboy.
She could only pray that Prince Makin was kind, that he was at least handsome enough that she could stand to look at him in the light of day, and that he wasn’t overly impressed with himself. Americans tended to think highly of themselves. Men in general were that way.
If he was a man who thought he was going to ride in and carry her off on his Arabian stallion, Serena thought she would have to really bite down hard to keep her dismay in check.
She would know in less than thirty minutes.
In the hallway outside, the sound of maids scurrying with excitement caught her attention. That meant the arrival of the prince.
Serena closed her eyes to compose herself and waited for her maids to fetch her.
The door flew open.
“He’s here! The prince has arrived!” her ladies announced with glee.
Serena stared at them. “And the palace gossip says he is…?” she prompted.
They looked back at her uneasily.
“Out with it,” she told them. “Prepare me for the worst.”
“Tall,” was the first response.
“Loud,” was the second.
“Not dressed appropriately,” was the third. “Not like a prince.”
Serena’s eyebrows rose.
“Jeans, a cowboy hat and boots, my lady,” her most trusted handmaiden explained.
Serena drew herself up, unwilling to allow palace gossip to titter over the depth of her dismay. Nor would she embarrass her bridegroom with her reluctance.
“Take me to him,” she said.
Chapter Three
The minute he stepped into the palace, Cade knew he’d underestimated the warmth of welcome extended to Prince Makin. King Zak’s idea of hush-hush apparently didn’t extend to a close gathering of advisers. A large room Cade would have described as a ballroom was filled with people wearing lavish ceremonial dress and jewels. It was a greeting meant to please and impress a future ruler.
King Zak apparently felt that to do any less would be to insult Prince Makin.
“Balahar and its king welcome Prince Makin,” a courtier announced.
Cade was led forward. He saw beautiful woman after beautiful woman, all with their eyes downcast as he passed them. If he were in a different position, he would have been strongly inclined to take advantage of the wealth of loveliness temptingly displayed before him.
The king of Balahar sat on a throne at the end of the room, his face lit with a proud smile. Cade was ushered to within two feet of the regal king. He bowed deeply, only rising when the king touched his shoulder.
And then Cade saw the princess. She was brought forward from somewhere behind the throne, and took her place to the side of the king. She was arrayed in stunning purple and gold, and more strands of gold laced through magnificently burnished hair that reached her waist. Cade could see her eyes because she didn’t keep them lowered as he knew custom dictated. Nor did she curtsy as her maidservants were frantically indicating she should. She merely looked at him evenly with fabulous emerald eyes that assessed him as he did her.
She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t petite, either.
In fact, she was just the perfect height for him. She watched him, and he watched her, and the whole court waited, enveloped in a hush.
He’d never seen a woman like her. The words that blew into his mind weren’t royal in the least: What a babe! She’s a goddess. Mac’s gonna have a fit when he sees how lucky he is!
The princess never blinked as he stared, her perusal so thorough and honest that he had to smile. He’d been checked out by females before, but this lady left coyness to her Arabian sisters. He could tell his jeans and boots didn’t necessarily agree with her but that something about him caught her interest in spite of herself.
So she was as reluctant as Mac was. And not about to get caught buying a stallion without checking out its molars, either.
Cade couldn’t help himself. She was an absolute doll. He grinned hugely at her.
The court erupted