Rashad drew up a chair next to him. “The American woman was wearing it around her neck when I flew her to the palace more dead than alive.”
His father’s eyes filled with wonder. “Go on.”
“Yes. Go on,” his mother said. She’d come in the bedroom without Rashad being aware of it. She looked like an older version of Basmah, tall and lovely. She sat down on the bed next to his father.
For the next little while Rashad told them everything from the beginning, leaving nothing out. When he’d finished, his father said, “And throughout all this business, you fell in love.”
“Yes.” Rashad jumped up from the chair, unable to contain his emotions. “But she has Grandfather’s blood in her just as I do.” Nothing could have shocked him more in his life. No news could have devastated him more.
His father nodded. “Now I understand why you feel you can never see her again.”
Rashad stared at his parents for a long time. “I realize I’m a great disappointment to the two of you, but what I felt for her went beyond honor or duty the moment I carried her from the sand to the helicopter. It felt as though she’d been delivered to me. For me …
“Before I found out we had a grandfather in common, I planned to come to you and tell you I couldn’t go through with the marriage to Princess Azzah because I intended to marry Lauren. When I took her to the Garden of the Moon, I realized I couldn’t live without her.”
His mother eyed him with tenderness. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always been led by what you believed in your heart, Rashad. I’ve been listening to everything you’ve said.” She looked at his father. “I think it’s time we told him, Umar. Don’t you? I know we agreed not to as long as it wasn’t necessary, but now I know that it is.”
“Tell me what?” He couldn’t imagine.
“If you want to know the answer, you need to be patient enough to sit down and listen to a story,” his father chastised him.
His mother smiled. “It’s a story you’ll like.”
That’s what she’d always said when he was a boy too restless to hear all the words between the beginning and the end.
“Forgive me, Mother, but I’m not eight years old anymore.”
“No,” she murmured. “That’s why you have to listen to your father.”
His father cleared his throat. “It begins on the night I was camped on the desert with our patrols because there’d been a raid on one of our villages and we were keeping a watch out for more. I decided to scout around. My right hand, Saud, rode with me.”
Yes. He knew. There was no man Umar had loved more than his childhood friend, Saud, but Rashad had heard the story many times of how Saud had protected his father from death before meeting his own, and he couldn’t imagine what this was leading up to.
“The assassins had stormed through Saud’s village first and killed many of the women and children, Saud’s wife included.”
Yes, he knew that, too. His father had ridden to that village and had found her lying in a pool of blood.
“What you don’t know was that she’d delivered a baby that night who lay under her.”
That did surprise, Rashad. His eyes swerved to his father’s.
“He was still alive.”
ON THE MORNING FOLLOWING her flight from Al-Shafeeq, Lauren drove to the cemetery and put white daisies on all three of the family graves. She lingered over her grandmother’s.
“I took the trip you took, Grandmother, and guess what? I, too, fell in love with a great Prince of the desert, but our love wasn’t meant to be. Instead of bringing home his baby beneath my heart, I have two cigar boxes, one with his father’s image on the top, the other of your beloved Malik. I don’t even have a photograph of Rafi.” Tears dropped onto the marker.
“Like you, I can’t go back to get one. All I could do was leave the medallion. It’s in the hands of the man I love. Help me find a way to survive, Grandmother. Please.”
Unwilling for people to see her in this condition, Lauren hurriedly left the cemetery and drove back to the apartment. She knew she had to keep busy or go insane and decided she would start some major housecleaning. One day soon she’d phone her friends, but not right now.
After parking her car on the street behind two limos, she got out, then came to a complete standstill. At least ten men wearing native robes and headscarves blocked the main entrance. Her heart jumped at the sight of them.
“Mademoiselle Viret?”
“Nazir—” she cried, shocked at the sound of the familiar voice.
He walked over to her. “Bonjour, mademoiselle.” He smiled. “Please forgive the intrusion. If you would be so good as to come with us, we’ll escort you to the plane King Umar has sent for you.” The group had surrounded her, leaving her with little room to maneuver.
Her legs felt like water. “Don’t you mean Prince Rashad?” Why would he do this now? It was a cruelty she wouldn’t have expected of him. There could be nothing between them.
“No, mademoiselle. The king wishes you to return immediately. He would have come, but he can’t travel in his condition. He asks if you will be kind enough to spend a few days at Al-Shafeeq with him and his family. He would like to meet Princess Lauren, the American granddaughter of King Malik.”
Princess—
This meant Rashad had told his father everything. Lauren couldn’t stop her body from trembling. “Much as I would love to meet him, I can’t.” She needed to root Rafi out of her heart. Of course that would never be possible, but to return to Al-Shafeeq …
“Prince Rashad predicted you would say that. He asked me to tell you that he will be away from the palace while you’re there.”
Her pain grew worse.
“Since he won’t be present, he says there’s no reason for you not to come. It will make his father and mother and his sisters very happy, unless you can’t forgive him for a deception he felt compelled to carry out at the time for the safety of his family.”
She rubbed her temples where she felt a headache coming on from all her crying.
“He at least asks you to forgive him as you would one who believes that the ways of his tribe are the laws of nature.”
Oh, Rafi. Another one of his unique sayings that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. This one wound its way into her heart with the rest of them.
She bit her lip. “Are you saying the king wants me to come now?”
“Yes. He hoped it would be a good time since you haven’t yet settled back in to your home here.”
Rafi might not be at the Oasis right now, but he knew her whereabouts and had eyes in the back of his head. “I would have to pack.”
“The prince says that unlike other tourists you are a master at packing lightly. He is very impressed.”
Oh Rafi …
“The King urges you to come. He says to remind you he’s not well. He may not be your father, but you share the same blood and he already loves you as his half-daughter. He’s aware your own father died before you could get to know him. Will you please accept him as your second father and allow him to spoil you a little bit?”
Her eyes smarted. Sheer blackmail.
Like father