overlooked the vast amount of responsibility that came with such a life. The stability and prosperity of a whole kingdom full of people would fall on Rayhan’s shoulders as soon as he ascended. Even more so than it did now. Few people could understand the overwhelming prospect of such a position. As far as powerful, how much did any of that mean when even your choice of bride was influenced by the consideration of your position?
“How easy for you to say,” he told Saleh just as the light turned green and they moved forward. “You found a beautiful woman who you somehow tricked into thinking marrying you was a good idea.”
Saleh laughed with good-natured humor. “The greatest accomplishment of my life.”
Rayhan was about to answer when a screeching noise jolted both men to full alert. A cyclist veered toward their vehicle at an alarming speed. Saleh barely had time to turn the wheel in order to avoid a full-on collision. Unfortunately, the cyclist shifted direction at precisely the same time. Both he and their SUV were now heading the same way. Right toward a pedestrian. Saleh hit the brakes hard. Rayhan gripped the side bar, waiting for the inevitable impact. Fortunately for them, it never came.
The cyclist, however, kept going. And, unfortunately for the poor pedestrian woman, the bicycle ran straight into her, knocking her off her feet.
“Watch where you’re going!” the rider shouted back over his shoulder, not even bothering to stop.
Rayhan immediately jumped out of the car. He ran around to the front of the SUV and knelt down where the woman still lay by the sidewalk curb.
“Miss, are you all right?”
A pair of startled eyes met his. Very bright green eyes. They reminded him of the shimmering stream that lay outside his windows back home. Not that this was any sort of time to notice that kind of thing.
She blinked, rubbing a hand down a cheek that was rapidly bruising even as they spoke. Saleh appeared at his side.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s not really responding. Miss, are you all right?”
Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him. “You’re lovely,” she said in a low, raspy voice.
Dear heavens. The woman clearly had some kind of head injury. “We have to get you to a doctor.”
Saleh swore beside him. “I’m so terribly sorry, miss. I was trying to avoid the bike and the cyclist was trying to avoid me but he turned right toward you—”
The woman was still staring at Rayhan. She didn’t acknowledge Saleh nor his words at all.
He had a sudden urge to hold her, to comfort her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, even though she was a complete stranger.
Rayhan reached for his cell phone. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”
The woman gave a shake of her head before he could dial. “No. I’m okay. Just a little shaken.” She blinked some more and looked around. Her eyes seemed to regain some focus. Rayhan allowed himself a breath of relief. Maybe she’d be all right. Her next words brought that hopeful thought to a halt.
“My dress. Do you see it?”
Did she think somehow her clothes had been knocked off her upon impact? “You...uh...you are wearing it still.”
Her gaze scanned the area where she’d fallen. “No. See, I found one. I didn’t think I would. But I did. And it wasn’t all that pricey.”
Rayhan didn’t need to hear any more. Unless she was addled to begin with, which could very well be a possibility, the lady had clearly suffered a blow to the head. To top it all off, they were blocking traffic and drawing a crowd. Kneeling closer to the woman sprawled in front of him, he lifted her gently into his arms and then stood. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”
“Oh!” she cried out as Rayhan walked back toward the SUV with her embraced against his chest.
Saleh was fast on his heels and opening the passenger door for them. “No, see, it’s all right,” she began to protest. “I don’t need a doctor. Just that gown.”
“We’ll make sure to get you a dress,” Rayhan reassured her, trying to tell her what she clearly needed to hear. Why was she so focused on clothing at a time like this? “Right after a doctor takes a look at you.”
He gently deposited her in the back seat, then sat down next to her. “No, wait,” she argued. “I don’t need a doctor. I just want my dress.”
But Saleh was already driving toward a hospital.
The woman took a panicked look out the window and then winced. The action must have hurt her injuries somehow. She touched a shaky finger to her cheek, which was now a dark purple, surrounded by red splotches.
Even in the messy state she was in, he couldn’t help but notice how striking her features were. Dark, thick waves of black hair escaped the confines of some sort of complicated bun on top of her head. A long slender neck graced her slim shoulders. She was curvy—not quite what one would consider slim. Upon first glance, he would never consider someone like her his “type,” so to speak. But he had to admit, he appreciated her rather unusual beauty.
That choice of words had him uncomfortably shifting in his seat. He stole a glance at her as she explored her facial injuries with shaky fingers.
Now her right eye had begun to swell as an angry, dark circular ring developed around it. Rayhan bit out a sharp curse. Here he was trying to enjoy what could very well be his last trip to the United States as a free man and he’d ended up hurting some poor woman on his first day here.
Perhaps Saleh was right. Maybe this whole trip had been a terrible idea. Maybe he should have just stayed home and accepted his fate.
There was at least one person who would be much better off right now if he had.
SHE WOULD HAVE been much better off if she’d just ignored that blasted invitation and thrown it away as soon as it arrived in her mailbox. She should have never even opened it and she definitely should have never even considered going to that godforsaken party. Her intuition had been right from the beginning. She no longer had any kind of business attending fancy balls and wearing glamorous gowns.
But no, she had to go and indulge two little old ladies, as well as her own silly whim. Look where that had got her—sitting on an exam table in a cold room at Mass General, with a couple of strange men out in the hallway.
Although they had to be the best-looking strangers she’d ever encountered. Particularly the one who had carried her to the car. She studied him now through the small window of her exam room door. He stood leaning against the wall, patiently waiting for the doctor to come examine her.
Even in her stunned shock while she lay sprawled by the side of the road, she hadn’t been able to help but notice the man’s striking good looks. Dark haired, with the barest shadow of a goatee, he looked like he could have stepped out of a cologne advertisement. Though
