To Tame a Sheikh / His Thirty-Day Fiancée: To Tame a Sheikh. Catherine Mann

of his situation, as often the families of those who worked in sensitive areas in the palace did. And she had extreme feelings about compromising him. She’d put them both through hell so she wouldn’t. She must think Aliyah witnessing their lovemaking the ultimate exposure.

      And instead of only fighting the world for her, he now had to fight against her own anxieties, too. He had to convince her to stop trying to do what she thought was right for him, to let him worry about his problems, to realize his best interests lay in having her with him.

      He still had no idea how he’d achieve that, but now that he knew she’d never really left him, still wanted him, he would renege on his promise to his father, to his kingdom. He would face anything on earth to be with her, come what may.

      “Actually this is bad. As bad as can be,” Aliyah finally answered his exasperation, her voice measured.

      And in spite of the situation and what she’d just said, his heart softened with love and admiration for her.

      Aliyah had had the harshest life of them all, had triumphed over impossible odds. He still couldn’t believe how she’d come back from a prescription drug addiction that doctors’ misdiagnoses and overanxious parents had plunged her into, how she’d made the decision to face her addiction and the world alone at the tender age of sixteen. It never ceased to be a pleasure for him to see her so healthy, to watch her blossoming daily with Kamal’s love, settling deeper in contentment with the blessing of their happiness and two children and filling her position as one of the most beloved queens in the world.

      He watched her as she approached with the grace of the old supermodel and the new queen. She was truly regal, dressed in honeyed-chocolate, the color of her eyes; she was as tall as Johara, if differently proportioned. But her every step closer struck a chord of foreboding in his heart.

      She stopped before him, her turmoil more obvious close up. She gestured to herself. “See anything wrong with this picture?”

      “Is this about you?” He took her by the shoulders, his eyes feverishly scanning her. “Are you …” He stopped, swallowed the ball of panic that suddenly blocked his throat. “Are you okay?”

      She reached out an urgent hand to his face. “Oh, I’m fine. It’s not about me. It’s about these.”

      His gaze followed her hand to where it rested on the magnificent diamond-and-precious-stone necklace gracing her swanlike neck. Matching earrings dangled to her shoulders and an elaborate web-ring bracelet adorned her wrist.

      “What about them?” he asked, mystified. “Apart from looking more incredible with your beauty showcasing them?”

      “Father did give them to me to showcase for this function. They are part of the Pride of Zohayd.” Shaheen nodded. He recognized them as part of the royal jewels, Zohayd’s foremost national treasure. “I was supposed to return them as soon as I took them off, as you know, but as I did I …”

      “What? You … damaged them?”

      If she had, Berj Nazaryan would fix them, and no one should be the wiser. Because if anyone found out, the situation would be grave.

      Her gaze grew darker. “No. I discovered they’re fake.”

      He gaped at her.

      Fake. Fake.

      The word revolved in his mind, gaining momentum, until it catapulted him forward to touch the jewels, to inspect them.

      He raised confused eyes to her. “They look the same.”

      “That’s the whole idea of good fakes. And these are nothing short of incredible.”

      Logic tried to make a stand. “But you’re not a jewelry expert. And you probably haven’t worn those before.”

      “I did far more than wear them. You remember I was almost catatonic when I was in my early teens? Well, my shrinks recommended I have a creative outlet as part of my ‘therapy.’ I wanted to paint, and the only thing I wanted to paint was the jewels. Mother Bahiyah got me into the vaults regularly to paint them.”

      So she did know the jewels intimately.

      Denial took over from logic. “But it’s been so many years since you saw them.”

      “Time doesn’t make any difference with my photographic memory. Tiny discrepancies screamed at me from the moment I took a good look at them. But without comparing them to detailed photos of the originals, I’m sure no one else would notice. No one but the experts, that is.”

      Shaheen felt the frost of dread spread through him. He’d seen evidence of her infallible memory. As a supremely talented professional artist, Aliyah used it now to produce paintings with uncanny detail.

      If she thought the jewels were fakes, they were.

      His shoulders slumped under the enormity of the conviction.

      Aliyah joined him in the deflation of defeat, lowered her eyes, then exhaled and tucked a mahogany tress behind her ear. She lifted her gaze back to his. “My first instinct was to rush to Harres with this. I did try to call him, but he’s incommunicado. I then thought of Amjad as our eldest, but I realized it should be you I told first. For now.”

      He blinked, nothing making sense anymore. “What do you mean?”

      “My decision was based on your past connection to Johara and the special interest you showed in her tonight. But then I came here and discovered it was far more than special interest. This isn’t the first time this happened between you. I could tell. Your passion, the depth of your involvement, almost burned me from twenty feet away. You’re her lover, aren’t you?”

      “You …” Shaheen shook his head, still trying to assimilate her revelations. And assumptions. “You think Johara has something to do with this?”

      Aliyah let her shoulders drop. “I honestly don’t know what to think. Between father and daughter, Berj and Johara are not only among the few who have access to the jewels, they’re among the few in the world capable of faking them. And then, there is her sudden reappearance in Zohayd and in the palace.”

      Shaheen’s numbness evaporated under the ferocity of the need to defend Johara. “She came back for me.”

      Aliyah’s gaze grew wary. “Is this what she told you?” He looked at her helplessly, because Johara hadn’t said that. Aliyah went on, her voice more subdued. “She came back three weeks ago. I was here visiting mother Bahiyah the day after her arrival. And I met her. She said she came back to see her father. The father who resigned his post as royal jeweler just before the reception.”

      This time when she fell silent, Shaheen felt he’d never be able to talk ever again.

      When the silence grew too suffocating, she sighed. “I can’t believe either of them could do something like this, either. But then, who knows what’s been going on with Berj? Mother Bahiyah told me tonight she wasn’t surprised when he quit, said he hasn’t been himself for a while. She said he’d been getting more morose, withdrawn, empty-eyed. And then he had a heart attack.”

      The new shock forced his voice to work. “Ya Ullah, when?”

      “Three months ago.”

      “Why did no one tell me?” Berj, the endlessly kind and patient, stunningly creative man, like his son and daughter, had always been one of the dearest people to Shaheen. He loved him more than he loved any of his uncles.

      “According to mother Bahiyah, he made Father promise not to tell anyone, even his family,” she assured him. Then she reluctantly added, “But maybe he felt his mortality, knew he wouldn’t be able to work for much longer. Maybe our enemies got to him.”

      “To offer him what? Financial security? Do you think Father didn’t reward his two-decade career with our family more generously than anything anyone else could offer? Though the job has never been about money for Berj, he can now live a retired life of leisure