her life she’d never seen such luxury as she had since arriving at the palace. Marble floors, grand staircases, a fountain in the foyer, lush gardens. There were sinfully expensive furnishings and gold fixtures everywhere—priceless art, paintings, vases and tapestries, oh, my.
And big. The number of rooms in this place would give an army of Molly Maids a lifetime of job security. Not to mention a girl could walk off a whole lot of chocolate indulgence here. “Wow” didn’t do justice to her feelings, but it was the first word that kept coming to mind.
When she’d arrived in the business wing for her meeting with the prince, her nerves had obscured her surroundings. Now that she’d passed the first hurdle, she noticed a lot more. There were four offices. The king’s was first, then the crown prince, followed by Fariq’s, where she now stood. To her right at the end of the hall was the last one, and she guessed it belonged to Rafiq, the youngest of the brothers. She thought she heard children’s voices, then shrieks of laughter.
Glancing up—way up—at her employer and guide, she cocked her thumb in the direction of the noise and said, “They went thataway.”
“A reference to the B-Westerns of your country,” he commented.
“You know the expression.”
“I attended college and graduate school in America.”
“Of course. I knew that.”
They turned into the last office and there on the leather sofa against the wall sat two children and a man who could only be Fariq’s brother. A little girl sat on one knee and was messing up his hair. At the same time Prince Rafiq was tickling the boy who occupied his other knee, the child shrieking with laughter at the same time he begged him to stop. No doubt these were the five-year-old twins who would be in her care.
“And they say men are incapable of multitasking,” Crystal couldn’t resist saying.
Fariq lifted one eyebrow. “Guard the secret well.”
The gleam in his eyes and the smile curving his lips told her he was teasing and capable of humor. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information and didn’t have a chance to figure it out. Suddenly the boy and girl squealed.
“Papa!” the children said at the same time.
They jumped off the couch and ran to him, each wrapping their arms around one of his long legs. He bent at the waist and embraced them.
“Hello, little one,” he said, running a knuckle tenderly down his daughter’s nose. She looked up at him adoringly. “And you.” He grinned at his son as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “There’s someone here who wants to meet you,” he said. Suddenly two pairs of very dark, very curious and just a bit shy eyes were turned on her. “This is Miss Rawlins. What do you say?”
“Hi,” the boy glanced up at his father. “I mean how do you do?”
Fariq nodded approvingly.
The little girl still clutched his leg. “How do you do?” she mimicked her brother.
The prince smiled tenderly at his daughter then angled his chin toward the other man. “That poor excuse for a nanny is my younger brother Rafiq.”
“Your Highness,” she said, acknowledging the adult introduction first.
The prince stood and ran his hands through his disheveled hair, attempting to correct the damage his niece had inflicted. Any man who would play with children at the expense of his appearance was all right in her book.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rawlins,” he said, extending his hand.
“And you, Your—”
“Call me Rafiq. I insist,” he said before she could protest.
“Thank you.” She looked first at the boy, then his sister. “This must be Nuri and Hana.”
“How did you know our names?” the little girl asked, clearly impressed. She blinked huge, beautiful black eyes fringed by exceptionally long thick lashes.
In fifteen years, probably less, the male population of El Zafir had better hang on to their hearts with both hands, Crystal thought. “Your Aunt Farrah told me. When I met her in New York, she showed me pictures of you both.”
“Your glasses are very large,” Nuri said. “And very ugly.” He was as handsome as his sister was beautiful and had no doubt picked up a dash of arrogance from his father.
“You’re very observant,” she said dryly.
“Your hair is too tight,” Hana said.
“It only looks that way,” Crystal answered quickly. But the beginnings of a headache put a lie to her words.
“Does it hurt?” Hana asked, studying her intently.
“No.” Crystal looked from one tall man to the other, then fixed a gaze on the children’s father. “May I ask a question, Your—”
“Fariq,” he said. “My brother is correct. There’s no need for formality in private. And I will call you Crystal.”
“All right. Fariq.” She tested the name and found she very much liked the exotic sound.
“Is it a stupid question?” he asked, with a look she now knew meant he was joking.
“You’re going to make me regret that remark, aren’t you?” she said, smiling. “Never mind. I’ll risk it. I was just wondering if you take the children to work with you often.”
“You mean because they are here with my brother,” he stated. “The answer to that question is no. But my little brother offered to pick up the slack, as you Americans say. Because he blames himself for the last nanny’s sudden and less-than-dignified departure.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” the other man protested, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Don’t fib, uncle,” Nuri said. “Nanny was in your bed.”
“How do you know that?” The stern facade was destroyed by his half smile.
“Aunt Farrah told grandfather,” the boy explained. “Then he said the new one must be a dried-up old prune.”
“How did you hear that?” Fariq’s tone was disapproving.
“Nuri was hiding behind Aunt Farrah’s sofa again,” Hana cheerfully volunteered. She looked shyly at Crystal. “I’m glad you’re not old or dried up.”
“That goes double for me,” Crystal said, grateful that someone in the royal family could see the forest for the trees.
“Little one, you shouldn’t tattle on your brother,” the prince admonished his daughter.
“Even if it’s the truth and he’s naughty?” the girl wanted to know.
“Even so,” he explained. “Family loyalty is a treasure.”
Fariq enjoyed
