Hoping to explain, to soften it for her somehow, he lunged after her as she hurled herself through the doorway, out into the hallway-straight into the arms of her father, the sheik.


* * *

Sheik Ahmed Kamal had been feeling quite pleased with himself, and enormously satisfied with the way the weekend's events had unfolded. The wedding ceremony had been as solemn and dignified as should be- in spite of the tendency on the part of young people nowadays to want to adopt certain deplorable Western customs instead of adhering faithfully to traditional ways. The groom's banquet had been enjoyable for all in attendance, sumptuous and generous as was appropriate for a royal couple yet neither excessive nor ostentatious. The exhibition polo matches had been enjoyed by the many guests in attendance, and'had resulted in gratifying wins for the Tamari team. Tonight's state dinner and reception honoring the king and the crown prince of Montebello had been a grand success.

Yes…and its aftermath even more so. Sheik Ahmed was, in fact, just returning from a most productive private meeting with his Montebellan counterpart, after having personally accompanied the royal contingent to their quarters in the guest palace on the other side of the gardens. He was in an expansive mood; his belly was full of good food and his mind full of plans for Tamir's future, plans that involved economic expansion in a number of areas near and dear to the sheik's heart.

Now, accompanied by his cadre of loyal bodyguards, he was making his way toward his private chambers at the end of a long, empty passageway adorned with mosaics and murals and softly lit by recessed lamps. He was looking forward to discussing the weekend's activities with Alima, his beloved wife, and afterward…a well-deserved rest.

And then-what was this? His youngest daughter, blinded by tears and with garments in disarray- garments, moreover, that would be appropriate only for a woman's chambers, or her husband's-his beloved child running headlong into his arms!

"Daughter, what is the meaning of this?" the sheik thundered, holding her at arm's length while he made hurried and necessary adjustments to her costume. He spared no thought at all for his contingent of bodyguards; being both well-trained and loyal, they had already turned their backs and averted their eyes from the deplorable spectacle.

Besides, if the truth were known, at that moment Sheik Ahmed's thoughts were in too much of a quandary to worry about what his bodyguards might or might not have witnessed. On the one hand, there was a father's understandable wrath at finding one of his offspring in a place and circumstances she had no business being at such an hour. On the other hand…the fact was, the sheik had a secret softness in his heart for his youngest child, and seeing her face so pale and frightened, her eyes overflowing with tears, gazing up into his…

"Leila, explain yourself!" he bellowed, but his anger was more show than substance.

Her lips opened, but she did not speak. He felt her arm tremble in his grasp. About to repeat the command a bit more gently, he hesitated. His focus wavered. A flash of movement on the periphery of his vision caught his gaze and jerked it away from his daughter's frozen face…and beyond. His eyes narrowed.

In the space of an instant his fatherly anger, mostly bombast, bluster and hot air, melted down and solidified into a rage as cold and deadly as any he'd ever known in his life.

Cade had never seen murder looking back at him from a man's eyes before, but he knew beyond any doubt he was seeing it now.

Strangely, faced with his worst nightmare, he felt all fear leave him. His body grew cold and his mind quiet. His eyes never left Sheik Ahmed's face as he waited for what would come.

Rotund and flushed with the effects of good food and good living, the Sheik was still an imposing presence. His snow-white hair and beard and magnificent hawk's beak of a nose gave him an almost biblical majesty, and even though he didn't speak loudly, his voice, welling from the depths of a barrel chest, sounded to Cade like the voice of doom.

"Young man, there was a time, not so long ago, when I could have had you executed on the spot. Explain yourself."

A strangled cry from Leila tugged at Cade's attention, but it was only a flicker, and only for an instant. All of his attention was focused on her father.

Explain himself? Under the circumstances it seemed to him a more than reasonable, even generous demand. Certainly more than he'd expected.

Explain himself. Well. Your Highness, I was just getting ready for bed, minding my own business, when your daughter, here, came knocking at my door, and the next thing I knew, she was throwing herself into my arms. Did I invite her? No sir, I did not. And… where did she get the idea to come to my chambers, Your Highness? You mean, did I entice her? Lead her on? Well…no sir, I sure didn't… unless you count kissing her earlier this evening until she couldn 't stand up…

Cade sighed inwardly. To explain seemed cowardly to him, and heartless, somehow. His mouth, opened to release the words that were poised on the tip of his tongue, firmly closed.

He looked at Leila, standing so straight and still beside her father. Her face was pale but proud, even with eyes lowered and veiled by tear-clumped lashes. He cleared his throat and determinedly began. "Your Highness, this is not what you think. Your daughter-" He glanced at her again, and saw her eyes go wide and stare straight into his…saw her lips part and her cheeks flood with pink. She reminded him of a doe he'd seen once, caught in a hunter's snare. And again he felt that awful sensation in his midsection, as if his heart had just been speared, and had landed with a thud in the bottom of his belly.

Every rational thought went out of his head. His mind was chaos, a whirlwind of remorse and shame. This was his fault. He'd humiliated this girl-and she was a girl. She was a princess and he'd humiliated her. She was almost certainly a virgin, and he'd kissed her frivolously, toyed with her emotions. And now, to make matters even worse, her humiliation was made public, since all at once the hallway around them seemed filled with people-bodyguards, servants, even Leila's mother with her servants, come to see what all the commotion was about. The damage he'd done to Leila-and to his own agenda, of course-seemed irreparable. Unless…

Just as suddenly as the chaos had come, now calm and certainty descended upon him. There was only one way to fix the mess he'd created. Cade knew precisely what he had to do.

He drew himself up, and with as much dignity as he could muster with his hair standing on end and without benefit of shirt, jacket and tie, looked Leila's father straight in the eye. "Sheik Ahmed, this may seem sudden, but I have fallen in love with your daughter." Ignoring Leila's shocked gasp, he rushed on. "I want to marry her." The gasps had found echoes throughout the gathering; he ignored those, too, as well as the sheik's sudden stiffening. "I respectfully ask your permission-"

"My permission!" Sheik Ahmed's voice shook. His wife laid a cautioning hand on his arm, and he whirled, blindly thrusting Leila toward her.

"Take her," he bellowed. "Take her away-and the rest of you-" he waved his arms, making shooing motions at the crowd. "Leave us!" Without waiting for his orders to be obeyed, he turned back to Cade, black eyes glittering with rage.

" You. You would marry my daughter?' With extreme effort, the sheik seemed to draw himself together and spoke more calmly though with no less anger. "Mr. Gallagher, I have made you a guest in my house, and you thank me by inflicting this gravest of injuries upon my family."

Cade frowned. This was not going quite the way he'd expected. "That was not-"

" Silence! And now, to that injury you would add insult? Do you think that I would allow my daughter to marry you-an infidel, an unbeliever, a man without honor?" There was a pause, during which Cade could have sworn the sheik grew in height at least a foot before his very eyes. And then, in a magnificent bellow, "I would sooner see her dishonored!"

Having delivered his exit line, Sheik Ahmed whirled-then spoiled the effect of it somewhat by jerking back to Cade. "You will leave my house," he growled, stabbing the air in his direction with a bejeweled finger. "Tomorrow-as early as can be arranged." Once more he turned, and stalked off down the now-deserted hallway, footsteps ringing on the tile floor.

Protected by an icy shell of calm he knew must be shock, Cade watched until the massive doors at the end of the hallway had closed upon the sheik's broad back. Then he retreated into his own chamber and carefully pulled the door shut after him.

On the whole, he thought as the quivery aftereffects of shock hit him, that had gone pretty well. At least he hadn't been executed on the spot.


* * *

Like a gracefully pensive statue, Leila stood in steamy and fragrant warmth and gazed at the familiar back of the woman who knelt beside the bath. Gazed at, but did not really see. Her mind was empty, as bereft of thoughts as her eyes were of tears. She did not dare allow herself to think, not even so much as a single thought; if she did, she feared the anger, humiliation and despair would simply overwhelm her.

Salma Hadi, her mother's most trusted servant and once upon a time Leila's own nanny, hummed nervously as she fussed over the bathwater, adding scent and soap bubbles, swishing the water with her fingers to test the temperature. The tune she hummed was simple and familiar, a children's play song she had sung to Leila long, long ago. Leila found it oddly soothing.