The Sheikh's Collection. Оливия Гейтс

Piper began to stroke his back in a soothing rhythm, bringing him slowly back into reality. And that reality included an emotion he’d always rejected in the past. An expression he had never uttered to any lover. A word he dared not acknowledge now, for in doing so he would be completely vulnerable to a woman who was bound to leave.

      He preferred to remain as he’d always been, immune to romantic love. Yet as Piper whispered soft words of praise, he wondered where he would find the strength to let her go. He would find it. He had no choice.

      But not now. Not tonight.

      * * *

      Three weeks gone, one more to go.

      As the first morning light filtered in from the part in the heavy gold curtains, Piper couldn’t stop thinking about how little time she had left before she went home. And as she lay curled up in the empty bed, hugging a pillow, she also couldn’t stop pondering Adan’s abrupt change in mood.

      For the past several days, he’d begun to spend more time with the baby when he wasn’t at the base and a lot less time with her. She felt somewhat guilty for even questioning his paternal role, but she didn’t quite understand why he’d started coming to bed in the middle of the night. Nor could she fathom why they hadn’t made love in over a week when they hadn’t missed a day since their first time together.

      She questioned whether Elena had told him her secret, but she felt certain Adan would have told her if that had been the case. Blamed her for meddling, for that matter. Maybe the prince was simply preparing for their parting. Maybe the pretend princess would be wise to do the same. But lately she’d learned to lead with her heart, not her head. Her head told her to accept the certain end to their relationship. Her heart told her not to go down without a fight.

      At the moment, her heart made more sense. For that reason, she climbed from beneath the covers to confront the missing sheikh, who she presumed was still in the nursery, tending to his son. After donning her robe, she padded down the hall to confirm her conjecture. And she did when she walked into the nursery and found Adan in the rocker, Sam cradled against his shoulder, both fast asleep.

      All her previous concerns disappeared as she took in the precious sight. A scene worthy of being commemorated on canvas. Regrettably she didn’t have one readily available, but she did have a sketch pad.

      With that in mind, she hurried back to the bedroom she hadn’t occupied in weeks, retrieved paper and pencil and then returned to the nursery. She moved closer to achieve a prime vantage point of father and son in the throes of blissful sleep. A souvenir to take with her that would enhance the wonderful memories...unless...

      As she sketched the details with second-nature strokes, a plan began brewing in her mind. A good plan. She quietly backed out the door and returned to Adan’s quarters, closed the door, hid the pad in her lingerie drawer beneath her panties and picked up the palace phone. She expected Elena to answer, but instead heard an unfamiliar female voice ask, “May I help you?”

      “Yes. This is...” The sheikh’s fake spouse? The prince’s bed buddy? She couldn’t stomach lying again, even to a stranger. “With whom am I speaking?”

      “My name is Kira,” she said, her pleasant voice not even hinting at a Middle Eastern accent. “And you are the newest princess.”

      Apparently the woman thought Piper had forgotten her title. Bogus title. “Right. Is there someone available who could run an errand for me?”

      “I will be up immediately.”

      Before she could offer to come downstairs, the line went dead, allowing her only enough time to brush her teeth and hair before she heard the knock.

      After tightening the robe’s sash, Piper opened the door to find a woman with golden-brown shoulder-length hair and striking cobalt eyes. She wore a navy blazer covering a white blouse and matching knee-length skirt, sensible pumps and a sunny smile. “Good morning, Princess Mehdi.”

      Piper would like to return the sentiment, but so far the morning hadn’t started off well when she’d woken up alone. “Thank you for answering the summons so quickly, Kira, but this errand isn’t really that pressing. I’m not even sure it’s possible.”

      Kira straightened her shoulders and slightly lifted her chin. “This is only my second day as a palace employee, and it is my duty to make this task possible.”

      Talk about pressure. “Okay, then. Is there a store that sells art supplies in the village?”

      Kira seemed to relax from relief. “Thankfully, yes there is.”

      Things could be looking up after all. “Great. I need a canvas, the largest one available, and a basic set of oil paints today, if at all possible.”

      “I will gladly see to the purchase myself.”

      “Wonderful.” Piper hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll just grab my credit card and—”

      “That is not necessary,” Kira said. “The household budget covers all your expenses.”

      She didn’t have the energy or desire to argue. “I truly appreciate that. And out of curiosity, are you from Bajul? I ask because you don’t really have an accent.”

      “I was born and grew up here but I’ve been living in Montreal for the past few years. My mother was Canadian, and while she was working in Dubai, she traveled to the queen’s mountain resort here one weekend, met my papa, fell madly in love and never left.”

      At least someone’s whirlwind affair had turned out well. “That’s a wonderful story. Now, if you don’t mind, I have one more favor to ask.”

      “Whatever you wish, Princess Mehdi.”

      She really wished she would stop calling her that. “Please, call me Piper.”

      Kira looked just this side of mortified over the suggestion. “That would not be proper. I am a member of the staff and you are a member of the royal family.”

      Little did the woman know, nothing could be further from the truth. “How old are you, Kira, if you don’t mind me asking?”

      She looked a little confused by the question. “Twenty-seven.”

      “And I’ll turn twenty-seven in three months. Since we’re basically contemporaries, I’d prefer you address me by my given name while we’re in private. If we’re in a public forum, we’ll adhere to all that ridiculous formality since it’s expected. And in all honesty, I could use a friend in the palace. A female friend close to my age.”

      That brought the return of Kira’s grin. “I suppose we could do that. A woman can never have an overabundance of friends.”

      Piper returned her smile. “Great. Now about that other favor.” She gestured Kira inside the suite and closed the door. “Please don’t say anything to anyone about the art supplies. I want to surprise Adan.”

      She raised her hand as if taking an oath. “I promise I will not say a word to the prince, even if it means residing in the dungeon while being subjected to torture.”

      “There’s a dungeon?”

      Kira chuckled. “Not that I have seen. And I apologize. At times I let my questionable sense of humor overtake my sound judgment.”

      “Well, Kira, since I’m prone to do the same, I believe that will make us fast friends. We can meet weekly and exchange smart remarks to enable us to maintain a certain amount of decorum.”

      They both shared in a laugh then, but all humor ceased when Adan came through the door without warning. He gave Piper a confused look before his gaze settled on Kira—and he grinned. “Are my eyes deceiving me, or has the caretaker’s daughter come home?”

      “No, Your Highness, your eyes are not deceiving you. I have returned, and I am now working in the palace with the sole intent to serve you.”

      He frowned. “Serve me grief no doubt, and what is