The Sheik's Secret Bride. Susan Mallery

walked into her bedroom and thought about taking a bath. Deciding that a shower would be quicker, she first crossed to the French doors that led to the wide balcony. They unlocked easily, and she found herself moving out into the evening.

      Instantly she was assaulted by the wonderful scents of the desert. The ocean, the sand and the hundreds of plants on the palace grounds combined to create a unique aroma that energized her. Even with her eyes closed she would know she was in a foreign land.

      El Bahar. For years she’d heard about the country but hadn’t given it any more thought than the North Pole. She’d never planned to visit. Her budget didn’t allow for much in the way of world travel, and she and Bethany had contented themselves with the occasional weekend trip down to Sea World and the famous zoo in San Diego. Then she’d found out about an opportunity to teach here, and she’d seen the job as the answer to so many problems.

      So here they were, in El Bahar. Living in the royal palace, if only for the night. Thinking of the palace made her think of Malik and his odd behavior. Why had he brought her here? And why had he told his sister-in-law that they’d been dating? Or had that come from Heidi? She felt as if she’d stepped into the middle of a play, but no one had told her the story or bothered to give her a script.

      Who was this man, this Crown Prince who meddled in people’s lives with all the impunity of a child rearranging blocks?

      She crossed the width of the balcony and leaned against the broad stone railing. Floodlights illuminated the gardens below. She could make out a large fountain and several paths. Even though the afternoon had been warm, the evening air was cool and carried with it a lovely sea breeze.

      Very exotic, she thought, closing her eyes to inhale the sweet scents from the garden. Magical El Bahar. Just like in her romance novels. Now all she needed was the handsome prince to appear.

      “Good evening,” a male voice said.

      Liana spun toward the sound and found herself staring up at Malik. Be careful what you wish for, she thought, not sure if she should laugh or run for safety.

      Chapter Three

      “A re you enjoying the night?” Malik asked.

      “Sure,” Liana told him, trying not to notice that her body had begun to melt with each step of his approach. If he moved any closer, she was going to be little more than a puddle on the tiled floor of the balcony. “It’s very pretty. What are you doing out here?”

      “I willed you to join me.”

      He spoke with such seriousness that Liana couldn’t help laughing. “I thought only vampires willed women to do their bidding. Crown Princes can too?”

      “Absolutely.”

      He stopped next to her and leaned casually against the railing. He still wore his gray suit and it still fit perfectly. The fabric seemed to emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and his white shirt gleamed in the night. His features blended together in the shadows until it was difficult to make out the firm shape of his mouth or the high cut of his cheekbones. Nonetheless, his good looks made him far too lethal for her safety.

      “I’m not going to be easily persuaded,” she told him honestly. “I doubt you’ll get what you want from me.”

      “Don’t be so sure. I can be very patient.”

      They were teasing, right? This was El Baharian flirtation? Liana wasn’t so sure that Malik knew this was a game.

      “Patient?” she repeated, questioning his choice of word. “Whisking me off to the palace before asking my permission is hardly the action of a patient man.”

      “Agreed, but it was effective. I’m interested in results, as well.”

      “Look, Your Highness, I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me, but let’s clear up a few things. I’m not interested in a fling of any kind. It’s not my style.”

      His dark eyes regarded her steadily. He stood close enough for her to inhale the masculine scent of him—and darned if it wasn’t plenty appealing.

      “What is your style?” he asked.

      “I don’t have one.” She bit her lower lip and figured she might as well get everything out in the open. “Look, I appreciate your attentions. They’re very flattering, even though they make no sense. I mean, I’m not a fashion model, right?”

      She went on without waiting for a reply. “The point is, I’m not looking for romance. I’m here to do a job.”

      “At the American School. I know.”

      “No, you don’t.” She turned until she was facing him. “This job is important to me. I’m a math teacher and I love what I do, but it’s not the greatest paying job. I have a young daughter and we’re pretty much on our own. It’s up to me to provide for her future. When I heard about the school, I was intrigued because the salary is generous and the living expenses are all provided. In two years working here I can save enough to fund Bethany’s college education and still have enough left over for a down payment on a small house back home. That’s what’s important to me—my daughter’s future and our joint financial security.”

      “I see.”

      Malik continued to stare into her face. It was most disconcerting, she thought, especially when his attention seemed to become as tangible as a touch. It was almost as if his fingers were stroking her cheek, her nose, her mouth. Her lips actually began to tingle, as if he’d kissed her.

      She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. What was wrong with her? Jet lag only explained so much of her wild and strange attraction to Malik Khan.

      “You have your life planned out,” he said at last. “Very forward-thinking of you, although it sounds lonely.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “If you’re talking about love, I’m not interested. Been there, done that.”

      “I understand. You’re a widow who mourns the unexpected and premature passing of a much-loved husband.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Not exactly. I’m divorced and my ex gets on my nerves. I have no intention of going through that again.”

      “There’s a small bench just past that bend in the balcony,” Malik said. “Would you please join me there for a few moments before you retire for the evening?”

      His old-fashioned courtesy disarmed her. What had happened to the imperious man who insisted on getting his way? Knowing that Bethany was safe asleep, she found herself moving in the direction he’d indicated. Worse, Malik put his hand on the small of her back where the individual fingers seemed to burn against her suddenly sensitized skin. She wanted to shiver. She wanted to move closer and rub against him like a cat. She wanted to beg him to touch all of her in the most intimate way possible.

      The wayward thoughts made her stumble, and she sat down barely in time to prevent herself from falling on her face. She had to get a grip, she told herself. Okay, so there was a chemical attraction between her and Malik. Or maybe it was all on her side. She couldn’t tell. Either way, she had to be very careful that she didn’t make a fool of herself.

      “Why did you bring me here?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

      “I find you attractive.” Malik settled next to her on the bench. They weren’t touching exactly, but he was close enough to make it hard for her to think.

      “But I’m not attractive. I don’t wear a bag over my head or anything, but I’m firmly in the average category.”

      Malik shrugged. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that. I find you unique.”

      Yeah, right. “Is it a blond thing? I mean, most of the women in this part of the country have dark hair.”

      She wore her hair to her shoulders in layers that let the natural wave give the style body.

      Malik