His Royal Prize. Debbi Rawlins

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scraping the hardwood floor as it flung back.

      Before he could say anything, a loud noise coming from outside drew their attention. Angry shouts, the slamming of car doors, the blare of a horn all sounded from somewhere in front of the house. King Zak and Rose both left the table and hurried toward the living room for a look through the expansive glass windows.

      Sharif followed close behind, knowing deep down his nightmare was coming true. He had lain awake half the night, planning a counterattack if reporters were to show up again. He had no doubt the man yesterday was from the media, looking to publicize the shame of Sharif’s heritage. The problem was, he had no plan, no defense. He was, in fact, not the blood heir to the throne of Balahar.

      “Oh, no.” Rose was first to the window, the sudden slump in her shoulders foretelling. “Reporters.”

      Sharif looked away from the comforting hand his father pressed to her lower back, and stared out at the same dark sedan he had seen yesterday. Two men stood face-to-face with one of the ranch hands, all of them gesturing wildly.

      “There’s Alex,” Rose said, straightening, a trace of pride in her voice. “He’ll take care of it.”

      With a mixture of admiration, envy and relief, Sharif watched his eldest brother approach the men. Rose was right. Alex probably would take care of everything. From what Sharif had witnessed, he was the most sensible and responsible of the four brothers.

      As soon as Alex joined the group, the shouting stopped. Moments later, the two strangers got in their car and left.

      Alex stood watching until the car disappeared out the front gate. Their other brother, Cade, rode up on a black gelding, then climbed down to confer with Alex and the ranch hand. All three men glanced toward the house, and tension cramped Sharif’s shoulders.

      Of course the commotion was about him. And, to a lesser degree, King Zak. And possibly Rose. Sharif had to face public scrutiny sooner or later.

      Alex and Cade started toward the house while the third man led the gelding toward the barn. Rose sighed as she watched her two sons approach.

      “I’m sure everything is fine,” she said, smiling.

      She did not have to say her reassurance was due to Alex, and Sharif experienced a sting of jealousy. Absurd. These people meant nothing to him. He did like Alex. He seemed to be a good man, and Sharif was grateful to him for banishing the reporters. At least for now.

      In fact, he liked all three of his brothers, and he hoped in time, they would become friends. But Rose could never replace his mother.

      He saw the pride shining in her eyes as she watched Alex, and Sharif felt empty suddenly. He had seen how they interacted, as though they had never been separated. As though she had been the one who had dried his boyish tears and sung him to sleep. Sharif did not understand.

      Perhaps they had a special bond because Alex remembered her. He had been four when Rose was torn from them. Cade and Mac were barely three and had no memory of her. Sharif had been the only one who had gone with her. Until he had outgrown the inside of her belly.

      Sharif stepped back from the window, away from Rose, shaken by the sudden realization that they did have a bond, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. But in his heart, Queen Nadirah would always be his mother. Even though she had been ripped too early from his life. Her death still pained him.

      His gaze automatically drew to Rose. Had she felt the same razor’s edge slicing through her body when he had been torn away from her?

      Sharif pushed the crippling thought out of his mind. He could not afford sympathy or regret or any other emotional obstacle. Not now. His future was at stake.

      His brothers neared the house just as Olivia walked outside, and they all stopped to talk. At the sight of her, Sharif’s chest tightened, oddly not from anger, but from something else. Something strange, foreign…something that made the hair at the back of his neck stand. As though she were some kind of primal threat to him.

      He dismissed the ridiculous notion. Standing next to Alex, she looked small and fragile, like a child’s doll. She could not be much over five feet, and her wrists and hands were so tiny, Sharif had been concerned about hurting her yesterday. But she was no wilting desert flower. She had not cowered before anyone’s wishes as Rose had done.

      Admiration dented his annoyance as he watched her with his brothers. Alex gestured toward the barn, and Olivia straightened. Shaking her head, she stuffed her hands into her pockets, her shoulders rolling slightly forward before she backed away and headed toward the stables.

      Sharif wondered if their exchange had anything to do with yesterday. Olivia had done nothing wrong, and if Alex was upset, Sharif would speak to him.

      “If you want to go change your shirt, I’ll get the boys some coffee,” Rose said as she headed toward the kitchen. “Then we can all sit down and find out what the ruckus was about.”

      Sharif had totally forgotten about his shirt and wet hair. And he had never before heard the word ruckus, but he figured he knew what it meant. His shirt would have to wait.

      A moment after Rose disappeared, Cade pushed through the dining room door just ahead of Alex. They both eyed Sharif’s wet soggy condition but said nothing as they took seats at the table.

      “We have a problem.” Cade pushed a hand through his dark hair, concern etching lines across his forehead as he looked from Sharif to King Zak. “A couple of reporters know you’re here.”

      “Sharks always smell blood. I only wish we had had more time.” King Zak sighed. “Your mother is—”

      “Yeah, we saw her in the kitchen, but we haven’t told her anything yet.” Cade grunted in disgust. “I’d better call Rena and warn her before the vultures start knocking on our door.”

      “Do not worry. My daughter is used to dealing with the press,” King Zak said. “But, yes, it would be wise to warn her.”

      “Go call your wife.” Alex motioned with his chin. “I’ll fill them in.”

      Sharif watched Cade head toward the hall, struck again by the staggering changes in all their lives. Cade was not only his newfound brother, but his marriage to Sharif’s adopted sister, Serena, made Cade his brother-in-law, as well. Although Serena was no blood relation to Rose, as a member of the royal family of Balahar and as Cade’s wife, she would also be affected by any press releases.

      When Sharif turned back to his father and Alex, he immediately met his brother’s eyes. They were dark and intense, full of questions or, perhaps, disapproval.

      “We have to make a decision,” Alex said. “They know you’re here, and denying it will probably just make matters worse. I say we make a joint statement, telling them the truth.”

      Sharif snorted in disagreement. “Those jackals will not be content until they have sniffed out every hint of scandal. I say we tell them nothing.”

      “The sooner we give them a story, the sooner they’ll quit digging. They’ve already exploited every detail about Cade, Mac and me being long-lost royalty. The rest is bound to come out anyway.” Alex’s gaze held steady. “I assume you don’t have anything to hide.”

      Sharif stiffened. Of course he did not, but he did not

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