Except that Leila had been trying all evening without success to catch the eye of the man she would very much have liked to share such an evening withthe man she had noticed that morning in the garden, the Texan in the dove-gray suit and cowboy hat. As luck would have it, he was sitting at a table almost directly across the reflecting pool from hers. Tonight the hat was absent, and, like many of the other male guests present, particularly those from Montebello and America, he wore a white dinner jacket. Though in Leilas opinion, none of the other guests looked so lean and fit and dangerous in theirs, or boasted such broad and powerful shoulders. She could see now that his hair was thick and wavy, a rich dark blond. It gleamed like gold in the flickering light of the torches. She would like to know what color his eyes were, but they were set deep in his rugged face, and masked in shadows.
If only we could dance like Americans do, she thought wistfully as she watched a line of professional performers of the traditional Tamari dances, faces veiled and torsos cleverly concealed, undulating their way down the length of the courtyard, weaving in and out among the tables to the rhythmic keening of native flutes and sitars. Jewels flashed from their ankles, wrists and hair as they performed the intricate hand movements and kept time to the music with tiny finger cymbals. Like most girls in her country, Leila had learned secretly as a child how to dance the traditional dances, though of course it would not have been proper for a princess to actually perform for anyoneexcept, perhaps, for her husband, in the privacy of their marriage chambers. If I ever have a husband, she thought moodily, as without her realizing it, her body began to move and sway in time to the music.
On her right, Samira nudged her and hissed, Leilastop that. Someone will see you.
Leila rolled her eyes. Sowhat? she wanted to say. It would not be the first time. Many people had seen her dance in Switzerland and England, and the world had not come to an end. When she was in boarding school she had learned to dance the western way, to rock and roll music, and in England she had evenand she was sure her father would have a heart attack if he knewdanced with boys the way westerners did. Touching one another. And nothing terrible had happened then, either. She was still, alas, very much a virgin. And likely to remain one for the foreseeable future.
I am bored, she whispered back. I have eaten too much and I want to lie down. When is this going to be over?
Hush, Samira scolded. This is Hassan and Elenas night. Remember your manners.
I wish we could at least mingle with the gueststalk to them, Leila said, wistfully eyeing the golden-haired man across the reflecting pool. But his head was bowed as he listened, apparently with close attention, to the frizzy-haired woman seated next to him. Leila sighed. And before she could stop it, her mouth opened wide in a blatant, jaw-popping yawn.
Im sorry? Cade politely lowered his head in order to hear what the woman at his side was saying above the discordant wailing these people called music.
Kitty repeated it in a loud, hoarse whisper. I said, that girl across the way over there has been tryin her darndest all evenin long to catch your eye. I believe shed like to flirt with you.
Cades glance flicked upward reflexively. Oh yeah? Which one? Anything, he thought, to relieve the tedium. He wasnt accustomed to spending three hours over dinner.
That onethe real pretty one in the aqua blue dresslong black hair with gold thingies in itlooks like something out of The Arabian Nights. See her?
Cade looked. Hed already noticed the girl, since she was drop-dead gorgeous and he was a man and only human. Now, though, he felt a shiver of silent laughter ripple through him. You mean, the one who looks like shes about to swallow herself?
His amusement blossomed into an unabashed grin as the girls bright and restless glance collided suddenly with his. Her eyes went wide with horror and she slapped a long, graceful hand over her mouth in a belated and futile attempt to cover up the yawn. Next, he watched, fascinated, as a parade of expressions danced across her face like characters in a play: dismay, chagrin, vexation, arrogance, pride, ironyand finally, to his delight, a dimpled and utterly winsome smile.
Kitty gave a little crow of triumph. There, you see? I told you she was flirtin with you.
Kind of young, dont you think? Cade drawled. Not to mention, he added, as the significance of that circlet of gold medallions on the girls head sank in, if Im not mistaken, shes a princess.
Really? Kitty gasped before she caught herself, then added with a lofty sniff, Well, so what if she is? Hassans a prince. That didnt stop Elena. She gave an excited little squeal. OhI just realizedthat would make her Elenas sister-in-law, wouldnt it? Ill bet she could introduce usuh, you.
I wouldnt count on it, Cade said dryly. Looks to me like they keep those princesses pretty tightly under wraps.
Pretending disinterest, he watched out of the corner of his eye as an older woman flanked by a cadre of female servants suddenly appeared beside the princesses table across the way. This woman he knew. Hed been presented to Tamirs first ladyElenas new mother-in-lawalong with her husband, Sheik Ahmed, following the wedding ceremony last night. Alima Kamalwho, hed been told, preferred not to use a royal titlewas dressed in the same gracefully draped style of gown as were her daughters, this one deep royal blue liberally trimmed with gold. Like her daughters, she wore a circlet of gold medallions in her still-raven black hair. They glinted in the torchlight as she gracefully inclined her head. Without a word, all the occupants of the princesses table rose and were swallowed up by the royal entourage, which then moved away in the direction of the palace, veils fluttering, like a dense flock of brightly plumed birds.
Wow, breathed Kitty. It really is like something out of The Arabian Nights. Do you think they keep them in a harem?
Cade gave a snort of laughter. Im sure they dont. For starters, the sheik only has one wife. And, if Hassan is any indication, theyre pretty westernized here. All this native costume stuff tonightthe turbans and veilsIm sure is just for this occasion. Some kind of wedding tradition, probably.
Umm-hmm Kitty was thoughtfully chewing her lip. Well, Ill still bet Elena could introduce you to that cute little sister-in-law of hers, if you asked her to.
No, thanks.
Why not? Shes very pretty, and she was definitely interested in you, Cade.
Not on your life. Cades grin tilted with grim irony. A knockout she might be, but not really his type and way too young for him, anyway. Not to mention that the very last thing he needed was to get tangled up with some royal pain-in-the-ass princess, when what he was really hoping for was to close a nice, lucrative business deal with her father, the sheik.
Chapter 2
Eight horses thundered in close formation down a grassy plain on what appeared to be a collision course with disaster. Long-handled mallets flashed and winked in the bright morning sunlight to the accompaniment of guttural cries, grunts of effort, and shrill and imperious whistles, while on a sideline shaded by olive trees that looked as though they might easily have dated from biblical times, Cade watched the proceedings with an interest that could best be described as ambiguous.
Chapter 2
Eight horses thundered in close formation down a grassy plain on what appeared to be a collision course with disaster. Long-handled mallets flashed and winked in the bright morning sunlight to the accompaniment of guttural cries, grunts of effort, and shrill and imperious whistles, while on a sideline shaded by olive trees that looked as though they might easily have dated from biblical times, Cade watched the proceedings with an interest that could best be described as ambiguous.
He wasnt a polo fanin fact, he knew next to nothing about the game. He considered it a rich mans sport. And while there were some whod place Cade in that category, he certainly never thought of himself in those terms. As far as he was concerned he was just a hardworking businessman who happened to have made a lot of money, which put him in an altogether different class than those who had nothing better to do with their time than gallop around a field on horseback jostling one another for the chance to whack a little ball with a big mallet.
Snob, said Elena teasingly when he voiced that opinion to her. I knew it. You, Cade, are a working-class snob. Come onpolo is the sport of kings.
I rest my case, Cade said around the stem of his cheroot.
And, its one of the oldest sports, maybe the first ever invented. She shot him a mock-piercing look. Whats this prejudice you have against royals? Seeing as how Im now one.
Prejudiced? Me? he countered in mock outrage. I dont even know any royalsexcept Hassan, I guess.
Thats what prejudice is, Elena said smugly. Forming an opinion without personal knowledge. Her eyes went to the riders on the field, seeking and fastening on one in particular. Anyway, youve met a few more in the past couple of days. Hassans parentsWhat did you think of them, by the way? Her tone was carefully casual, but Cade heard the question she was really asking: Do you likehimmy husband, Hassan? Please like him.
He glanced down at the woman hed thought of as a sister for most of his life, arguably the only family he had left. He said gruffly, I had my doubts about your husband for a while. You know that. His voice softened. But as long as he does right by you, that makes him okay in my book. He paused. Soare you? Happy?
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then smiled up at him, and he read her answer in her shining eyes before she spoke. Yeah, CadeI am.
Cade took a quick sip of his cheroot, surprised again by that sudden fierce ache of envy. Then thats what counts.
Elena shot him a searching look. Sowhat did you think of themHassans family? The old sheik?
He took a moment to consider, though he didnt need to. Ahmeds a sharp old fox, he said finally. Knows what he wants for his country, and wont give an inch until he gets it. Hell drive a hard bargain, but hell be fair. He gave a dry chuckle. Im looking forward to doing business with him. What about his wifeAlima? Elena smiled ruefully. My mother-in-law. She paused, shaking her head. Boy, I never thought Id say those words.
She seems very nicewarm. He didnt tell her that for some reason the sheiks wife had reminded him, in ways that had nothing to do with physical resemblance, of his own mother. What he remembered of her, anyway.
And Rashid? Elenas eyes were once more on the field of play, watching the swirling mélange of men and horses. Sunlight glinted off helmets and goggles and sweat-damp horsehide, while brightly colored jerseys tangled together like ribbons. Eyes sparkling, she answered herself before he could. He does raise some fine ponies, youve gotta admit.
Cade grinned. He does that. Hed been admiring Rashids own mount in particular, a dapple gray stallion with the Arabians classic dish face and high-arched neck, graceful, delicate lines and, it appeared, the courage of a lion. He was hoping to find an opportunity to talk horse breeding with the princemaybe discuss an exchange of bloodlines
His thoughts scattered like dry leaves as several ponies thundered down the field in tight formation, close to the sideline and only a few yards from where he and Elena were standing, shaking the ground beneath their feet. A gasp went up from the spectators, followed by shoutsmostly of triumph, intermingled with a few moans of dismay. Apparently the Tamiri team, jubilant and easily distinguishable in bright gold and black, had just scored on the scarlet-clad Montebellans.
Distracted by the celebration on the playing field, it was a few seconds before Cade noticed the woman runningno, dancingalong the sideline, keeping pace with the ponies galloping barely an arms length away beyond the low board barrier. He had an impression of slenderness and grace as unselfconscious as a childs, of vitality as voluptuous and lush as Mother Earth herself. The unlikely combination tugged at his sensesand something else, some cache of emotions hidden away, until that moment, deep inside him. His breath caught. Protective instincts produced electrical impulses in all his muscles.
Shes too close. Shell be trampled!
The alarm flashed across his consciousness, there one second, gone the next. Cynically, he thought, Shes a grownwoman, shes got sense enough to stay out of harms way. His heart was beating fast as he settled back to watch her. He realized that, incongruously, he was smiling.
She was dressed all in earth tonesshiny brown leather boots to the knee, a divided skirt in soft-colored camel suede that hugged her rounded hips like kid gloves, and a cream-colored blouse made of something that looked likeand undoubtedly wassilk, with long flowing sleeves cuffed tightly at the wrist. The skirt was belted at her waist with a silk scarf patterned in the Tamari team colorsyellow and black. She wore a hat to shade her face from the blistering Mediterranean sun, the same soft suede as her skirt with a wide brim and flat crown, like those Cade associated with Argentinean cowboys. A hatstring hung loosely under her delicate chin to keep the hat from blowing off in the unpredictable sea breeze. Beneath the hat, raven-black hair swept cleanly back from a highcheekboned face to a casually wound coil at the nape of a long, graceful neck.
Entranced, Cade thought, I wonder who she is. And following that, clearly, distinctly, I want her.
He acknowledged the thought unashamedly but with a wry inner smile. He was fully grown-up, no longer a child, and years ago had learned that wanting did not necessarily mean having.
Shouts of outrage and a shrill whistle interrupted his appraisal of the woman. He almost chuckled aloud as he watched her express her own dissatisfaction with what was happening on the field, whirling in fury and stamping her foot like an angry child. Moments later she was in motion again as the horses and riders careened back down the field, once more dancing along the sideline, completely caught up in the action, her body bobbing, jerking and weaving in unconscious imitation of the players. As if, Cade thought, she longed to be one of them, rather than just a spectator.
And thenhe caught his breath. As she moved directly in front of him, a gust of wind caught her hat from behind and tipped it neatly forward off her head. She gave a little shriek of dismay and grabbed for it, but it was already tumbling across the trampled grass, directly into the path of the oncoming horses. Cade felt his body lurch involuntarily, before the thought had even formed in his mind. Shes so damned impulsive! My God, is she crazy enoughto go for it?