“I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Sabrina left. Cleo flopped back on the sofa. She supposed one of the perks of marrying Sadik was that both Zara and Sabrina would become legal relatives. They would be her sisters-in-law.
Like that was enough to get her to change her mind.
Shortly after three that afternoon, Cleo received a phone call telling her she had a visitor from the American Embassy waiting for her.
She didn’t understand what that could mean, but instead of arguing with the secretary on the phone, she quickly changed and made her way to the front of the palace. There she was shown into a spacious anteroom that held several leather sofas positioned around a low coffee table.
A tall man was waiting. He wore a navy suit and carried an expensive-looking briefcase. When he heard her enter, he turned and smiled, holding out his hand.
“Ms. Wilson, I’m Franklin Kudrow, attaché to the American Embassy.”
Cleo was tired from her night of tears. She offered her most cheerful smile, then spoke the truth. “While that’s a really impressive title, I have no idea who you are or why you’re here.”
“Yes. Of course.” He motioned to the sofas.
Cleo settled down into one, while Mr. Kudrow settled opposite her. Manners, she thought suddenly.
“Ah, would you like something to drink?” she asked the fifty-something career diplomat.
“No, thank you.” He smiled and set his briefcase on the floor. “Ms. Wilson—”
“Cleo,” she said. “Just call me Cleo.”
He nodded. “Cleo, we’ve been notified by the palace of your upcoming marriage to Prince Sadik.”
Old Frank kept talking, but Cleo was having trouble listening. Marriage to Sadik? Word sure had traveled fast.
Anger filled her. If Sadik couldn’t get her to agree the old-fashioned way, he was going to do his darnedest to manipulate her from all sides. He was a master at maneuvering his way through tricky financial markets. No doubt he thought she would be just as easy to get around.
She noticed that Mr. Kudrow was careful not to look at her stomach. His discretion was probably one of the reasons he’d risen in the State Department. Then she focused back in on what he was saying.
“Who told you I was marrying Sadik?”
Mr. Kudrow looked startled by the interruption. He bent down and retrieved his briefcase, which he set on the coffee table. After opening it, he drew out a piece of paper.
“We received a press release.”
She took the paper and scanned it. Sure enough, there on official royal Bahania letterhead was the announcement of Prince Sadik’s marriage to Cleo Wilson, an American citizen.
She couldn’t believe it. That he would go behind her back like this. Did he really think he could force her hand by going public?
“We’re all very excited,” Mr. Kudrow was saying. “When we found out that Zara Paxton was actually a member of the royal family, we saw an opportunity to continue to cement our relations with King Hassan. Now with you marrying into the royal family, we will have even better relations. I’m sure you’re aware of the proposed air force. The official position of the United States is that of neutrality, but I can tell you that privately the government is very supportive. Our government has long been an ally of the Bahanian government.”
He paused expectantly. Cleo had no clue as to what he expected her to say. She went with a noncommittal grunt.
“Of course, there is hope in the private sector that many of the military planes required will be purchased from American companies. There are already several dozen orders in. Perhaps, if you have the chance to mention the quality of the American fighter jets…”
His voice trailed off, but Cleo got the message. “Maybe I could ask for an F-14 for a wedding present,” she said sweetly, when all she wanted to do was throw something. Instead she clutched the press release tightly in her hand.
“May I keep this?” she asked.
“Of course.”
She rose, forcing the diplomat to do the same. “I understand what you’re trying to say,” she told the man. “I appreciate that my impending marriage could greatly benefit a lot of people. But here’s a news flash, Mr. Kudrow. I haven’t accepted the prince’s proposal. So I wouldn’t start counting your jet orders just yet. Thank you so much for visiting.”
She nodded once, then turned and left the room. She was furious. No. Furious didn’t begin to describe how she felt. She was enraged. Now she really wanted to take the king up on his offer of a flogging, but only if she would be the one wielding the whip. If she had a car handy, she would back it over Sadik. How dare he try to manipulate her this way?
She stalked toward the center of the palace, determined to hunt him down and tell him exactly what she thought of him. Unfortunately, he was in the business section of the palace and she’d never been there.
After a couple of false starts, she found herself amidst dozens of fax machines and computers. Figuring she had to be close, she found a male secretary and asked directions to Prince Sadik’s office.
Less than two minutes later she barged in on him.
He sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen. When she stalked into his office, he didn’t even have the grace to look surprised. Instead he rose, smiled pleasantly and spoke.
“Cleo! How nice of you to come see me.”
She narrowed her gaze as she slapped the press release on his desk. “Don’t you dare try polite conversation on me. You might be some high-and-mighty finance person for the royal family, but to me you’re nothing but a lying weasel dog. What is the meaning of this?”
He ignored her insult and glanced at the paper. “I would think it was obvious.”
“That’s right. It is. If you can’t get me to agree another way, you’re going to bully me into marrying you. Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t be manipulated. I don’t care that you’re Prince Sadik. I’m a person and I have rights.”
He motioned for her to take a chair. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing, but she was so mad, she was shaking. Her legs felt as if they were about to give way, and falling wouldn’t make her look very determined.
She sank into the leather chair. He followed suit, then placed his hands on his desk. “You’re making too much of this,” he said calmly. “Why deny the inevitable? We will be married.”
“No, we won’t. I don’t want to marry you. I have no interest in—”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “You may protest all you like, but you cannot escape the truth. You carry my child, Cleo. You carry a royal prince. Your choices are to marry me or to have the baby and then leave Bahania.”
He
