The Sheik's Virgin Read online

Page 5


  The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Phoebe cleared her throat, then picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Here I had imagined you spending the day pining for me when in truth you were out having a good time.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat. She could barely breathe. “Mazin?”

  “Of course. What other man would call you?”

  Despite her loneliness, she couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe there are dozens.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.” He sighed. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I knew you weren’t alone in your room, pining for me?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I’ve been calling and you have not been there.”

  Her heart returned to her chest and began to flutter, even though she knew she was a fool. “I went to the church and the dog park. Then I had lunch. A lovely couple told me about the boat tour around the island. I thought I might do that tomorrow.”

  “I see.”

  She plowed ahead. “You’ve been more than kind, but I know you have your own life and your own responsibilities.”

  “What if I wish to see you? Are you telling me no?”

  She clutched the receiver so hard, her fingers hurt. Tears pooled in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor do I.”

  She wiped away her tears. “Th-thank you for the flowers.”

  “You are welcome. I am sorry about today.” He sighed. “Phoebe, if you would rather not spend time with me, I will abide by your wishes.”

  Tears flowed faster. The odd thing was she couldn’t say exactly why she was crying. “It’s not that.”

  “Why is your voice shaking?”

  “It’s n-not.”

  “You’re crying.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would it help if I said I was disappointed, as well? That I would rather be with you than reading boring reports and spending my day in endless meetings?”

  “Yes, that would help a lot.”

  “Then know that it is true. Tell me you’ll see me tomorrow.”

  A sensible woman would refuse, she thought, knowing Mazin would not only distract her from her plans for her future, but that he would also likely break her heart.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good. I will see you then.”

  She nodded. “Goodbye, Mazin.”

  “Goodbye, my dove. Until tomorrow. I promise to make the day special.”

  He hung up. She carefully replaced the phone, knowing that he didn’t have to try to make the day special. Just by showing up he would brighten her world.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Where are we going?” Phoebe asked for the third time since Mazin had picked her up that morning. They’d already toured the marketplace, after which he had promised a surprise.

  “You will see when we arrive,” he said with a smile. “Be patient, my dove.”

  “You’re driving me crazy,” she told him. “I think you’re doing it on purpose.”

  “Perhaps.”

  She tried to work up a case of righteous indignation, but it was not possible. Not with the sun shining in the sky and the beauty of Lucia-Serrat all around them. Not with Mazin sitting next to her in his car, spending yet another day with her.

  She had known him little more than two weeks. They had spent a part of nearly every day together, although not any evenings. So far they’d worked their way through a good portion of Ayanna’s list. Phoebe had seen much of the island, including a view from the ocean on the tour boat.

  “Is it a big place, or a small place?” she asked.

  “A big place.”

  “But it is not on my list.”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “Did my aunt visit there?”

  “I would think so.”

  They drove toward the north end of the island, heading inland. Gradually the road began to rise. Phoebe tried to picture the map of the island in her mind. What was in this direction? Then she reminded herself it didn’t really matter. She had memories stored up for her return home. When she was deep in her studies, she would remind herself of her time on Lucia-Serrat, when a handsome man had made her feel special.

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was concentrating on his driving and did not notice her attention. Although he was unfailingly polite, he had yet to kiss her again. She wasn’t sure why, and her lack of experience with men kept her from speculating. She thought it might have something to do with the fact that she was inexperienced, but couldn’t confirm the information. Asking was out of the question.

  They rounded a corner. Up ahead, through a grove of trees, a tall house reached up toward the sky. She squinted. Actually it was more of a castle than a house, or maybe a palace.

  A palace?

  Mazin inclined his head. “The official residence of the prince. He has a private home, but that is not open to the public. Although this is not on your Ayanna’s list, I thought you might enjoy strolling through the grounds and exploring the public rooms.”

  She turned to him and smiled with delight. “I would love to see it. Thank you for thinking of this, Mazin. My aunt came here often to attend the famous parties. She danced with the prince in the grand ballroom.”

  “Then we will make sure we see that part of the castle.”

  They drove around to a small parking lot close to the building. Phoebe glanced at the larger public lot they had passed on their way in.

  “You forget I have a position of some importance in the government,” he said, reading her mind as he opened his car door. “Parking here is one of the perks.”

  He climbed out of the car, then came around to her side and opened the door. Phoebe appreciated the polite gesture. Sometimes she even let herself fantasize that he was being more than polite, that his actions had significance. Then she remembered she was a nobody from Florida and that he was a successful, older man simply being kind. Besides, she had her life already planned. Okay, maybe her plan wasn’t as exciting as her imaginings about Mazin, but it was far more real.

  “This way,” he said, taking her hand in his and heading for the palace. “The original structure was built at the time of the spice trade.”

  “You told me that the crown prince is always a relative of the king of Bahania. He was probably used to really nice houses.”

  Mazin flashed her a grin. “Exactly. Originally the prince lived in the palace, but as you can see, while it is a beautiful palace, it is not especially large. Quarters were cramped with the prince’s family, his children and their children, various officials, servants, visiting dignitaries. So in the late 1800s the prince had a private residence constructed.”

  Mazin paused on the tree-lined path and pointed. “You can see a bit of it through there.”

  Phoebe tilted her head. She caught a glimpse of a corner of a building and several windows. “It looks nearly as big as the palace.”

  “Apparently the building project grew a little.”

  She returned her attention to the graceful stone palace in front of them. “So official business occurs here? At least the prince doesn’t have much of a commute.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates that.”

  They crossed the ground around to the front of the palace. Phoebe still felt a little uneasy about trespassing, but as Mazin wasn’t worried, she did her best to enjoy the moment. He was a knowledgeable host, explaining the different styles of architecture and telling her amusing stories from the past.

  “Now we will go inside,” he said. “Our first stop will be the ballroom.”

  They headed for the main gates overlooking the ocean. As they crossed the open drawbridge, a distant call caught Phoebe’s attention. She looked toward the sound. A small boy raced toward them, down the length of the drawbridge. Dark hair flopped in his face, while his short, sturdy legs pumped furiously.

  “Papa, Papa, wait for me!�


  Phoebe didn’t remember stopping, but suddenly she wasn’t moving. She stared at the boy, then slowly turned her attention to Mazin. Her host watched the child with a combination of affection and exasperation.

  “My son,” he said unnecessarily.

  Phoebe was saved from speaking by the arrival of the boy. He flew at his father. Mazin caught him easily, pulling him close into an embrace that was both loving and comfortable. They obviously did this a lot.

  A tightness in her chest told her that she’d stopped breathing. Phoebe gasped once, then wondered if she looked as shocked as she felt. She knew Mazin was older. Of course he would have lived a full life, and it made sense that his life might include children. But intellectualizing about a possibility and actually meeting a child were two very different things.

  Mazin shifted his son so that the boy sat on his left forearm. One small arm encircled his neck. They both turned to her.

  “This is my son Dabir. Dabir, this is Miss Carson.”

  “Hello,” the boy said, regarding her with friendly curiosity.

  “Hi.” Phoebe wasn’t sure if she was expected to shake hands.

  He appeared to be five or six, with thick dark hair and eyes just like his father. She had been unable to picture Mazin as a child, but now, looking at Dabir, she saw the possibilities.

  Mazin settled his free hand at Dabir’s waist. “So tell us what you’re doing here at the castle. Don’t you have lessons today?”

  “I learned all my numbers and got every question right, so I got a reward.” He grinned at Phoebe. “I told Nana I wanted to see the swords, so she brought me here. Have you seen them? They’re long and scary.”

  He practically glowed as he spoke. Obviously viewing the swords was a favorite treat.

  Phoebe tried to answer, but her lips didn’t seem to be working. Mazin spoke for her.

  “We were just about to walk into the castle. We haven’t seen anything yet. Miss Carson is visiting Lucia-Serrat for the first time.”

  “Do you like it?” Dabir asked.

  “Um, yes. It’s lovely.”

  The boy beamed. “I’m six. I have three older brothers. They’re all much bigger than me, but I’m the favorite.”

  Mazin set the boy on the ground and ruffled his hair. “You are not the favorite, Dabir. I love all my sons equally.”

  Dabir didn’t seem the least bit upset by the announcement. He giggled and leaned against his father, while studying her.

  “Do you have any children?” he asked.

  “No. I’m not married.”

  Dabir’s eyes widened. “Do you like children?”

  Phoebe hadn’t thought the situation could get more uncomfortable, yet it just had. “I, ah, like them very much.”

  “Enough,” Mazin said, his voice a low growl. “Go find Nana.”

  Dabir hesitated, as if he would disobey, then he waved once and raced back into the castle. Phoebe watched him go. Children. Mazin had children. Four of them. All boys.

  “He’s very charming,” she forced herself to say when they were alone.

  Mazin turned toward her and cupped her face. “I could read your mind. You must never try to play poker, my dove. Your thoughts are clearly visible to anyone who takes the time to look.”

  There was a humiliating thought. She sighed. “You have lived a very full life,” she said. “Of course you would have children.”

  “Children, but no wife.”

  Relief filled her. She hadn’t actually allowed herself to think the question, but she was happy to hear the answer.

  “Come,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I will show you the ballroom where your Ayanna danced. As we walk, I will tell you all about my sordid past.”

  “Is it so very bad?”

  “I’m not sure. Your standards will be higher than most. You will have to tell me.”

  They walked into the castle. She tried to catch a glimpse of Dabir and his Nana, but they seemed to have disappeared.

  “Some of the tapestries date back to the twelfth century,” he said, motioning to the delicate wall hangings.

  She dutifully raised her gaze to study them. “They’re very nice.”

  Mazin sighed, then pulled her toward a bench by the stone wall. “Perhaps we should deal with first things first, as you Americans like to say.”

  He sat on the bench and pulled her next to him. She had the brief thought that actually sitting on furniture in the royal castle might be punishable by imprisonment, or worse, but then Mazin took her hands in his and she couldn’t think at all.

  “I am a widower,” he told her, staring into her eyes. “My wife died giving birth to Dabir. We have three boys. And I have another son from a brief liaison when I was a young man.”

  That last bit of news nearly sent her over the edge, but all she said was “Oh.”

  Four sons. It seemed like a large number of children for one man. No wonder he hadn’t been spending his evenings with her; he had a family waiting at home. If they were all as charming as Dabir, he must hate being away from them.

  “I’ve been keeping you from them,” she said softly. “I’ve told you that you don’t have to keep me company.”

  “I choose to be here.”

  She wanted to ask why, but didn’t have the courage. “You must have help with them. Dabir mentioned Nana.”

  He smiled. “Yes. She is a governess of sorts for my youngest. The two middle boys are in a private boarding school. My oldest is at university in England.”

  She tried not to show her shock. “How old is he?”

  “Nearly twenty. I am much older than you, Phoebe. Did you forget?”

  “No, it’s just…” She did the math. He’d had a child when he’d been seventeen? She was twenty-three and had been kissed only once. Could they be more different?

  “I know you say you choose to be here,” she said, “but you have a family and work obligations. I must be a distraction. Please don’t be concerned. I’m very capable of entertaining myself. How could I not enjoy my time on this beautiful island?”

  “Ah, but if you remain alone, you will never be able to visit Lucia’s Point.”

  She ducked her head as heat flared on her cheeks. Lucia’s Point—the place for lovers. It seemed unlikely that she would be visiting that particular spot on this trip.

  A horrifying thought occurred to her. She tried to push it away, but it refused to budge. Then she found herself actually voicing it aloud as she risked looking at him.

  “You have four sons, Mazin. Do you see me as the daughter you never had?”

  He released her hands at once. She didn’t know what that meant, but she was aware of his dark eyes brightening with many emotions. None of them seemed paternal.

  “Do you see me as the father you never had?”

  Her blush deepened. “No,” she whispered. “I never thought of that.”

  “I do not think of you as a child, especially not my own. On the contrary. I see you very much as a woman.”

  “Do you? I want to believe you, but I’ve lived such a small life.”

  “It is the quality of one’s life that matters.”

  “Easy to say when you had your first affair at seventeen,” she blurted before she could stop herself. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, horrified, but Mazin only laughed.

  “An interesting point. Come. We will walk to the ballroom. When we are there, I will tell you all about my affair with the ever-beautiful Carnie.”

  * * *

  “She was an actress,” Mazin said ten minutes later as they strolled through a vast open area.

  Tall, slender windows let in light. Dozens of candelabras hung from an arched ceiling. There was a stage in one corner, probably for an orchestra, and enough space to hold a football game.

  Phoebe tried to imagine the room filled with people dressed in their finest, dancing the night away, but she was still caught up in his description of his first mistress as “ever beautiful.”

  �
��Was she very lovely?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Yes. Her face and body were perfection. However, she had a cold heart. I learned very quickly that I was more interested in a woman’s inner beauty than her outside perfection.”

  His statement made her feel better. Phoebe knew that in a competition of straight looks, she wouldn’t have a chance, but she thought her heart would stand up all right.

  “We met when the film company came here to shoot part of a movie. She was an older woman—nearly twenty-two. I was very impressed with myself at the time and determined to have her.”

  She didn’t doubt he’d achieved his goal. “What happened when you found out she was pregnant?”

  He took her hand in his. The pressure of his palm against her, the feel of their fingers laced together nearly distracted her from his words.

  “She was upset. I don’t know if she’d hoped for marriage, but it was out of the question. My father…” He hesitated. “The family did not approve. We had money, so an offer was made. She accepted.”

  Phoebe stared at him. “Didn’t you love her?”

  “Perhaps for the first few weeks, but it faded. When I found out about the child, I wanted my son, but I didn’t think Carnie and I had much chance at happiness. She stayed long enough to have the baby, then left.”

  “I could never do that,” Phoebe said, completely shocked by Carnie’s behavior. “I would never give up my child. I don’t care how much money was involved.”

  Mazin shrugged. “I don’t think my father gave her much choice.”

  “That wouldn’t matter. I would stand up against anyone. I’d go into hiding.”

  “Carnie preferred the cash.”

  Mazin heard the harshness in his voice. Most of the time he was at peace with his former lover, but occasionally he despised her for what she had done, even though it had made his life simpler.

  “Is she still alive?”

  “Yes, but she rarely sees her son. It is better that way.”

  He watched the play of emotions across Phoebe’s face. She was so easy to read. She was outraged by Carnie’s decision, yet it went against her nature to judge anyone negatively. Her wide mouth trembled slightly at the corners and her delicate brows drew together as she tried to reconcile harsh facts with her gentle nature.

 

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