The Sheik's Secret Bride. Susan Mallery

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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 had reached forward to touch one of her curls. “It’s not a blond thing,” he told her. “Tell me about your ex-husband. Why are you divorced?”

      “Because Chuck is thirty-one going on twelve.” She sighed at the thought of Bethany’s father. “He isn’t a bad man, he’s just too caught up in his dreams to be much of a husband or a father.”

      Liana allowed herself a small smile. “He was great fun in high school. He always had the fastest car around.” She glanced at Malik. “That’s what he wants to do with his life—race cars. He works to raise money to buy new engines and tires and whatever else cars need to go faster than is safe. When we were first married, we had a great plan for our lives. But then I got pregnant, and we found ourselves parents before we’d finished growing up.”

      “Your daughter seems very smart and well-mannered.”

      “I love her,” Liana said. “For me, Bethany was a blessing, but Chuck found being

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