going to change,” she whispered, then returned to her room to unpack her own suitcases. Lina had promised that Prince As’ad could be trusted. He’d given his word that he would raise the girls as his own. That meant they were safe. But, after all they’d been through, how long would it take them to feel that way?
The evening passed quickly. Dinner was sent up on an elegant rolling table and contained plenty of comfort foods for lost, lonely children. Kayleen piled everyone on the largest sofa and they watched The Princess Diaries, then compared the differences in the movie castle and the real-live palace they’d moved into. By nine all three of them were asleep and Kayleen found herself alone as she wandered the length of the beautiful suite.
She paused by the French doors leading onto the balcony, then stepped out into the warm night.
Lights from the shoreline allowed her to see the movement of the waves as they rolled onto the beach. The inky darkness of the water stretched to the horizon. The air was warm and salty, the night unexpectedly still.
She leaned against the railing and stared into the sky. What was she doing here? This wasn’t her world. She could never in a million years have imagined—
The sound of a door opening caused her to turn. She saw a shadow move and take the shape of a man. Fear gripped her then, as quickly as it had come, faded. But she should be afraid, she told herself. He could be anyone.
But he wasn’t, she realized as he stepped into the light. He was Prince As’ad.
He was as tall and broad as she remembered. Handsome, in a distant sort of way. The kind of man who intimidated without trying. She wondered if she should slip back into her own rooms before he saw her. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be out here. Then his dark gaze found her.
“Good evening,” he said. “You and the girls are settled?”
She nodded. “Thank you. The rooms are great. Your aunt thought of everything to make us feel at home.” She looked up at the imposing structure of the palace. “Sort of.”
He moved toward her. “It’s just a really big house, Kayleen. Do not let the size or history intimidate you.”
“As long as none of the statuary comes alive in the night and tries to chase us out.”
“I assure you, our statuary is most well-behaved.”
She smiled. “Thanks for the reassurance. No offense, but I doubt I’ll sleep well for the next couple of nights.”
“I hope that changes quickly.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket. “If you find my aunt forgot something, let someone on the staff know.”
“Sure.” Because every palace had a staff. And a king. And princes. “What do we call you? The girls and I. Your Highness? Prince As’ad?”
“You may all use my first name.”
“Really? And they won’t chop off my head for that?”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Not for many years now.” He loosened his tie, then pulled it free.
Kayleen watched for a second, then looked away. He wasn’t undressing, she told herself. The man had the right to get comfortable after a long day of…of…being a prince. This was his balcony. She was the one who didn’t belong.
“You are uneasy,” he said.
She blinked. “How did you figure that out?”
“You are not difficult to read.”
Great. She had the sudden thought she wanted to be mysterious and interesting. Mostly interesting. Like that was going to happen.
“A lot has changed in a short period of time,” she told him. “This morning I woke up in my usual bed in the orphanage. Tonight I’m here.”
“And before you lived in El Deharia? Where did you sleep?”
She smiled. “In the Midwest. It’s very different. No ocean. No sand. It’s a lot colder. It’s already November. Back home the leaves would be gone and we’d be bracing for the first snowfall. Here, it’s lovely.”
“One of the great pleasures of the most perfect place on earth.”
“You think El Deharia is perfect?”
“Don’t you think the same of your birthplace?”
Not really, she thought. But they came from very different circumstances. “I guess,” she murmured, then felt awkward. “I was a teacher there, too,” she added, to change the subject. “I’ve always loved children.”
“Which makes your employment more enjoyable,” he said. “I would imagine a teacher who dislikes children would have a difficult time.”
Was he being funny? She thought he might be, but wasn’t sure. Did princes have a sense of humor? She’d assumed being royal meant being serious all the time.
“Yes, that was a joke,” he said, proving she was as readable as he said. “You are allowed to laugh in my presence. Although I would suggest you are sure I’m being humorous. To laugh at the wrong time is a grave mistake most people only make once.”
“And we’re back to the head-chopping. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Not many princes in the Midwest?”
“No. Not even rock stars, which in my country are practically the same thing.”
“I have never been fond of leather pants on a man.”
That did make her laugh. “You could be considered fashion forward.”
“Or foolish.”
“You wouldn’t like that,” she said without thinking, then covered her mouth. Oops.
Something flickered in his gaze. He folded his arms. “Perhaps a safer topic would be the three sisters you insisted I adopt.”
“What about them?” Had he changed his mind? She would hold him to his promise, no matter how nervous he made her.
“They will have to change schools. The orphanage is too far away. The American School is closer.”
“Oh. You’re right.” She hadn’t thought that part through. “I’ll get them registered in the morning.” She hesitated. “What do I tell the administrator?”
“The truth. They are my adopted daughters and are to be treated as such.”
“Bowing and scraping?”
He studied her. “You’re an interesting combination of rabbit and desert cat. Fearful and fearless.”
She liked the sound of that. “I’m working to be all fearless. I still have a ways to go.”
He reached out and before she realized what he intended, he touched a strand of her hair. “There is fire in your blood.”
