The Sheikh Takes A Bride. Caroline Cross

they were sweeping past a high stone wall marked with a brass plaque that read “Hope House—where every child is wanted.” Beneath that, in letters so small he almost missed them, were the words, “Founded 1999 by Her Highness, Princess Catherine of Altaria.” He shot her a startled glance that she ignored.

      Seconds later she slowed the car as they approached a rambling two-story house wrapped by a wide, covered veranda. Pulling into an adjacent parking area, she switched off the engine, opened her door and exited the car, all without another word to him.

      With a slight shake of his head, Kaj reached for the door handle. But before he could exit, an explosion of sound had him twisting around. He watched, bemused, as a small army of children burst out of Hope House’s front doors, swarmed across the veranda and down the steps, all chattering at once as they ran toward the car.

      “Princess, you came!”

      “Amalie was ascared you forgot.”

      “I told her she shouldn’t worry. I told her you’d be here soon!”

      “Did you bring her a present?”

      “Nicco said maybe the new king wouldn’t let you visit. He said maybe the new king doesn’t like kids like—”

      “Children, stop!” To Kaj’s surprise, Catherine laughed. It was a husky, musical sound that tickled his nerves like velvet against bare skin. “Of course King Daniel likes you.” As she looked down at the dozen small people all vying for her attention, her remoteness melted away. “As a matter of fact, I’ve told him and Queen Erin all about you, and they’ve asked if they might come visit you themselves.”

      “They have?”

      “Really?”

      “Wait till Nicco hears that.”

      “Does that mean you won’t come anymore?” This last was asked by the smallest of the children, a petite black-haired girl with big brown eyes in a too-serious face.

      “No, of course not, Amalie,” Catherine said gently. “We’re friends, no matter what. Yes?”

      The child nodded.

      “What’s more, today is your birthday. I couldn’t possibly forget that.”

      A bashful smile crept across the little girl’s face. She sidled closer and leaned against Catherine’s hip, rewarded as the princess laid a reassuring hand on her thin shoulder.

      Kaj felt a surge of approval. It was good to know the future mother of his children had a maternal side.

      Yet even as he told himself he’d made the right choice, that Catherine of Altaria was going to make him a fine wife, he also felt the faintest flicker of uneasiness.

      Because just for a second, as he’d watched Catherine’s face soften and heard her affection for the children in her voice, he’d experienced an unfamiliar hunger, a desire to have her laugh at something he said, a need to have her reach out and touch him.

      Which was ridiculous, given that he had every confidence that sooner, rather than later, he would be on the receiving end of her affection. All he had to do was stay close and he’d find a way to get past her reserve.

      As for this nagging little itch of need she seemed to inspire… It was nothing he couldn’t handle.