golden statuettes and exquisite artwork.
The attendant paused before the towering staircase, turned and set the duffel onto the polished stone floor near Sunny’s feet. “If you will kindly wait here, I will summon your sister,” he said, his tone thick with a Middle Eastern accent.
“Of course,” she replied politely, although she wasn’t sure why she had to wait. She couldn’t imagine Piper had forgotten she was due to arrive at this hour. Then again, considering her sibling had stepped into the role of mother to the sheikh’s infant son, she could have been detained by a wet diaper.
As the minutes ticked off, Sunny passed the time studying several portraits of regal-looking royals lining the stone walls, including the current king, the stoic and darkly handsome Rafiq Mehdi and his debonair brother, Zain. She then paused at the painting depicting the lighter-haired Adan, the youngest Mehdi son, and her new brother-in-law. She had to admit Piper had landed herself one good-looking pilot-prince, and the person who’d painted this picture had nailed every detail, right down to the guy’s dimples.
After Sunny leaned over to better see the artist’s signature, she immediately straightened from shock when she noted her twin’s familiar handwriting. She then backtracked and checked every painting to find that Piper had created each and every one, and she’d done a darn good job. Finally, her sister had realized her overdue dream of becoming an artist. And she’d become a princess in the process. Amazing.
“Not too shabby at all,” she muttered aloud. “It’s about time you were wrested from our grandfather’s clutches.”
“Parental influences can be a challenge.”
Sunny’s hand automatically went to her throat as she spun around in search of the owner of the darkly masculine voice...and contacted the most intense near-black eyes she’d ever seen. He shouted military man from the top of his close-cropped black hair, to the bottom of his brown combat boots, yet his jaw was spattered with whiskers, as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. The tan fatigues and black T-shirt pulled tight over his extremely toned chest, the short sleeves revealing standard-issue muscles that said he meant business, proved to be quite the distraction. So did his self-assured stance and the somewhat arrogant lift of his chin.
As he boldly assessed her from forehead to feet, Sunny’s journalist’s instinct kicked into overdrive, bringing with it a series of descriptors. Stealth. Mysterious. Sexy as hell.
The impact of the last thought caused heat to fan over her face and snake down her throat as the overwhelming need to escape took hold. She refused to give in to that urge.
When he didn’t speak she offered her hand for a shake. “I’m Sunny McAdams. And you are?”
He stepped forward and enveloped her extended hand in one very large palm. “Greatly pleased to meet you.”
Two more words came to mind—practiced player. After he released his grasp, Sunny hugged her arms to her middle as if that somehow guarded her from the impact of his inescapable aura of power. “Do you have a name or should I try to guess?”
“Rayad,” he replied without even hinting at a smile, but his gaze never faltered. Oh, no. He just kept staring at her as if trying to read her mind. Hopefully he couldn’t, because she harbored too many secrets she would never reveal to a stranger.
Sunny inclined her head and studied him straight on, showing him she wasn’t about to cower under his assessment. “Ah, a man of few words who apparently doesn’t have a last name.”
“You made it!”
She tore her attention from the stranger and brought it to her dark-haired, blue-eyed bubbly sister practically bounding down the stairs to the right. Before Piper reached the bottom landing, Sunny risked a glance to find that the mystifying Rayad was nowhere to be found.
As soon as Piper’s feet hit the floor below the final step, she drew Sunny into a voracious hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” she said after they ended the embrace. “And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you letting me hang out here for a while.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Piper said as she surveyed Sunny’s face. “You look terrible.”
That could explain why Mystery Man had been staring at her nonstop. “Gee, thanks, sis. I didn’t know the invitation came with insults.”
Piper rolled her eyes to the gold-bedecked ceiling. “I meant you look exhausted. You couldn’t look terrible if you tried.”
Oh, but she did. She was well aware how badly her blond hair needed a trim and how pale she’d become since she’d left the field. “I’m in dire need of some sun and sleep, that’s for sure. Spa treatments couldn’t hurt.”
Piper grinned. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Or maybe I should say the right palace.”
Sunny felt as if she’d been transported back to a better place and time, when she and her twin hadn’t had a care in the world, in spite of the fact they hadn’t had a caring mother. “Very funny, Pookie Bear.”
Her sister scowled. “Please don’t let my husband hear you call me that, Sunshine. He’ll grab on to the nickname like a fish on a worm and won’t let go.”
“Tell you what,” she said. “You can the Sunshine and I’ll forget the Pookie.”
“But your name is Sunshine.”
“And you know how much I hate that.”
“All right, it’s a deal.” Piper hooked her arm through Sunny’s. “Now I shall escort you to your accommodations. For this visit, I’ve selected the first-floor guest quarters reserved for very special guests. Lots of privacy.”
Unlike the last stay at the palace, this time Sunny needed privacy and a place to hide away, at least when she wasn’t expected to socialize with the in-laws. “I only require a bed and a bath.”
“Oh, you’ll have both,” Piper said as she led her down a lengthy corridor off the foyer. “And your own private garden.”
“As long as I don’t have to tend it, that sounds great.”
After they navigated a narrow hallway flanked by more polished rock walls, Piper paused in front of a pair of gleaming wooden doors and opened them wide. “Enter this chamber fit for a princess. Or the princess’s sister.”
Sunny stepped over the threshold and visually searched the massive room, awed by the absolute grandeur, including an intricately carved headboard, red satin spread and a scattering of matching red and gold chairs. She turned to Piper and smiled. “Where’s my tiara?”
“I’ll have one sent up,” she said. “Bathroom’s to the right, complete with massive soaking tub and a carwash-size shower, in case you want to have a party with a companion or ten.”
She didn’t even have one companion, let alone ten. When the image of the patently sexy, albeit elusive Rayad jumped into her brain, she mentally shoved it away. But she couldn’t dispel the suffocating imagines of confinement at the hands of a criminal. She couldn’t rid herself of the concern that she might never function as the normal sensual woman she’d once been. “Do you have a few
