SECRETS OF A PREGNANT PRINCESS

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  SECRETS OF A PREGNANT PRINCESS

  Carla Cassidy

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  Contents:

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

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  Chapter 1

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  Princess Samira Kamal clutched the ends of her arm-rests as the small, private jet began its descent. Takeoffs or landings – she wasn't sure which she hated more.

  "May I get you something, Princess?"

  Samira looked at the man seated directly across from her. Farid Nasir … her bodyguard. Even here, on her father's private jet with no one else in the plane but the crew, Farid was on alert with no relaxation in any part of his firmly muscled body.

  "No, thank you. I'm fine," she replied and turned her attention to the window where the island of Montebello had come into view.

  It wasn't a long flight from her country of Tamir to the neighboring island of Montebello, but this flight had seemed endless. Each moment had been sheer agony since she'd made the decision to fly to Montebello and meet Desmond Caruso.

  She shot a glance at her traveling companion. Farid had been her bodyguard for less than three months, but in that time she hadn't seen him crack a smile or display any hint of a sense of humor.

  She would concede that he was handsome, with his short raven hair and firmly chiseled features. He had beautiful eyes, dark brown with thick, long lashes. However, they were cold … soulless, never giving a hint of the man within.

  She dismissed thoughts of Farid as the wheels of the small royal jet hit the runway. If things went as she planned during this visit to Montebello, she wouldn't need her father to provide her with a bodyguard. She would have a husband to provide all that she needed.

  A slight trepidation shot through her as she realized that within the next hour she would see Desmond again. Surely all her dreams were about to come true. She and Desmond would marry and hopefully live happily ever after.

  She closed her eyes, remembering how it had felt to be in Desmond's arms, imagining how wonderful it would be to be his wife for the rest of her life.

  She'd spoken to him on the phone only the week before and he'd told her how much he missed her, how much he wished they could be together. He'd told her he thought of her day and night and longed for the time they could be together again. He had to be the right man for her. He just had to be!

  "Princess…"

  She frowned at the interruption into her pleasant daydreams. Opening her eyes, she saw Farid standing up, waiting patiently for her attention.

  "There is a car waiting to take you to the palace."

  "Yes, of course." She stood and allowed Farid to escort her off the plane and into the limo with a miniature Montebellan black, white and gold flag flying from its antenna.

  Farid didn't sit back in the seat and relax, but rather sat forward, his gaze going from window to window with the alertness of a big cat on the prowl.

  As usual, he was stoically silent on the brief ride from the airstrip to the massive grounds of the royal palace. Just once she'd like to see what his face looked like with a smile curving his lips, with warmth shining from his eyes.

  Since he'd been assigned as her personal bodyguard, she'd found him not only to have more than his share of arrogance, but also to be exceptionally good at his job. It was the latter quality that had her worried.

  Somehow, someway, in the next couple of hours she desperately needed to escape Farid's watchful eyes to rendezvous with Desmond. She did not want to meet her lover with her bodyguard hovering nearby. She needed time alone with Desmond, time to tell him her news, time for them to make the plans that would seal their future together.

  Within minutes they had passed through the guarded gates of the palace grounds. The car pulled up in front of the impressive entrance to the grand palace.

  Set on top of a cliff overlooking the sea, the palace was a two-story whitewashed stucco and marble with traditional Mediterranean touches. A large fountain was set amid lush greenery in front of the palace, giving it an added touch of elegance and grandeur.

  As they stepped out of the car, Samira could instantly smell the salt brine in the air, could hear the distant sound of waves breaking against the jagged rocks at the base of the cliff where the palace was located.

  They entered a large, marble-floored entry with cathedral-height ceilings and ornate gold trim. A butler, who introduced himself as Rudolpho Sabira, led them up the grand staircase to the private quarters of King Marcus Sebastiani and his wife, Queen Gwendolyn.

  Samira couldn't help but think that if all went well with Desmond, she would be related to the king and queen of Montebello through marriage, as was her brother Rashid.

  "Princess Samira." The lovely Queen Gwendolyn took her hands and greeted her warmly. "It's such a pleasure to have you here as our guest."

  "Thank you," Samira replied, then looked at the white-haired king who stood next to the queen. "King Marcus, my father sends his regards."

  "And they are returned," King Marcus said. "I understand you've come to explore the beauty of our island."

  "Yes. I was quite captured by the beauty of Montebello the last time I was here and thought it would be a perfect spot to spend a week of vacation time. I'm also eager to visit with Princess Anna. I so enjoyed spending time with her when you were all in Tamir for my brother Hassan's wedding."

  "Ah, yes." King Marcus's eyes lit with obvious affection as he thought of his youngest daughter. "Unfortunately, Anna is not in residence at the moment. She and her new husband, Tyler Ramsey, are spending some time in the United States."

  Samira had known before she left Tamir that Anna wasn't in Montebello, a fact her own father had been unaware of. When she'd told her father, Sheik Ahmed Kamal, that she wanted to go to Montebello to visit Anna and to explore, the sights of the island, he'd given his blessing, knowing how much she enjoyed Princess Anna's vivaciousness and enthusiasm for life.

  "I'm so sorry to learn she isn't here," Samira exclaimed, hoping she sounded genuinely surprised at the news.

  "However, the beauty of Montebello awaits you and we have put you in one of the private guest quarters on the ground. We hope you'll be most comfortable," King Marcus continued.

  "I'm sure you'd like to freshen up after your trip." A tiny wrinkle appeared in Queen Gwendolyn's forehead. "Has your maid traveled with you or would you like us to provide you one for the duration of your visit?"

  "No, thank you but that won't be necessary," Samira demurred. "Actually, I'm looking forward to the novelty of taking care of myself for the duration of this trip."

  "Then we won't keep you," Queen Gwendolyn said. "The cottage is fully serviced with staff who take care of the cleaning and delivery of meals. Anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. Perhaps you will join us for dinner later in the week."

  "I would be most honored," Samira replied.

  "The driver is waiting to take you to your quarters," King Marcus finished.

  A few moments later Farid and Samira were back in the car, being driven to the private cottage where they would stay for the rest of the visit.

  "Oh, how nice," Samira exclaimed as they got out of the car in front of the guest house. The cottage itself was a white stucco, surrounded by lush, heavily perfumed flowers and deep-green bushes. It looked like an enchanted cottage from a fairy tale.

  They walked into a luxurious living room decorated in blues and golds. The furniture was oversized, a sofa with mounds of throw pillows and two matching chairs set on a gorgeous Oriental rug. A basket of luscious fruit sat on the coffee table and fresh flower arrangements scented the air with their sweet fragrance. />
  A king-size bed graced the master bedroom, along with a sitting area, a stately dresser and a lavish bathroom.

  The second bedroom was considerably smaller with a half bath. There was also a kitchenette with every convenience known to mankind for those who preferred privacy instead of taking their meals in the dining room in the palace or having them delivered in.

  "I think I'll just freshen up and unpack," Samira said to Farid. He acknowledged her words with a curt nod of his head and she disappeared into the master bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  Her suitcases were on the floor where the driver had placed them, but she opened only one, her cosmetic case. She would freshen up, then slip away from Farid and find Desmond, she hoped.

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she needed to touch up her blush. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and her dark eyes sparkled with the exhilaration that bubbled inside her.

  Desmond, Desmond, her heart cried out. She hoped she was only mere minutes away from her destiny, her heart's desire. Surely Desmond was her heart's desire? She frowned and shoved aside the niggling doubt.

  For the past few months it seemed that love had blossomed for everyone around her. She'd watched all her brothers and sisters find love, and had yearned to find it for herself. There was nothing she wanted more than to be a wife and nurture her own family.

  Hopefully, before this night was over, that was what her immediate future would hold. With a hand that trembled slightly, she brushed her shoulder-length dark hair, put on a fresh layer of lipstick, then spritzed herself with her favorite perfume.

  She stepped back and looked at herself critically. Maybe she should change clothes. The coral-colored long dress complemented her olive complexion, but it was slightly wrinkled from traveling. Smoothing her hand over the wrinkles, she decided she didn't want to take the time to change.

  She was ready … all she needed was an escape route. She knew without a doubt that Farid would not be in his room with the door closed. He was far too conscientious for that. He would be sitting or standing in the living room, like a shadow, watching her movements and anticipating danger at every corner.

  She frowned thoughtfully and walked over to the window in front of the sitting area in the bedroom. Her heart gave a joyous leap as she realized the window had a latch, which meant it opened and closed.

  As she turned the latch and pulled it open, she recognized that what she was about to do was completely out of character for her. She was not adventurous or bold. In truth, most of the time she feared herself rather boring. But love gave her courage, hope made her bold, and once the window was open, she removed the screen and climbed out.

  A new exhilaration filled her as she stepped outside and drew in a breath of the sweet-scented night air. Darkness was falling and the moon overhead was a silver ball shining down a lover's light.

  Escape had been ridiculously easy, and she felt as if fate was making it simple for her to claim the future she so desired.

  The next step was to find Desmond. She knew he had quarters on the palace grounds, but she also knew the palace grounds were immense. Unsure in which direction to go, she took off walking, following a cobblestone sidewalk that she hoped would take her to a guard.

  Sure enough, after only a few minutes, she ran into a palace guard who gave her directions to Desmond's private quarters.

  She had met Desmond Caruso, King Marcus's handsome nephew, almost three months before at her brother Hassan's wedding to Elena Rahmon. Desmond had swept her off her feet with his incredible looks and seductive charm.

  He'd spent a week in Tamir, and during that week he and Samira had met whenever possible, snatching glorious moments in secret trysts.

  Desmond had looked at her as no other man had in her life. He'd listened to her hopes and dreams, encouraged her to open up to him and had opened up to her about his unhappy childhood. She'd felt an immediate connection, and he'd told her he felt it, too.

  She had surrendered her innocence to him. They had made love twice, and while she'd found the act of lovemaking not particularly pleasant, she'd told herself it was because she was inexperienced, and that that part of their relationship would improve with time.

  "And we'll have a lifetime of lovemaking," she murmured aloud, her heart singing with joy.

  If Farid had been her bodyguard three months ago when she'd met Desmond, she probably would have never gotten any opportunity to be alone with Desmond.

  But her brother's wedding had taken place in Tamir, and Samira's entire family had attended. There had been royal guards all around, but no personal bodyguards for Samira and her sisters.

  Would Desmond be happy to see her? This trip had been an impromptu one and she hadn't told him she'd be arriving tonight. But he must have heard she was coming.

  Of course he'll be happy to see you, she told herself firmly. He loves you, he told you so only last week. He'd promised that as soon as he got an opportunity to speak to her father, they would be married.

  Her heart quickened once again as she came to the guest house where the guard had told her Desmond lived. Across from the guest house a fountain gurgled, as if proclaiming Samira's future in bubbling glee.

  The small house sat just off the sidewalk. Like her guest quarters, it was surrounded by bushes laden with lush pink flowers that scented the balmy night air.

  She hesitated a moment on the sidewalk and drew a deep breath to steady herself. At that moment, she heard the soft murmur of voices drifting out from a partially open front window.

  He wasn't alone. She didn't want to burst in on him and deliver her exciting news if he wasn't alone. She moved to a position just behind a large, neatly trimmed bush where she could easily peek into the window.

  She just wanted to get a glimpse of the man she planned to spend her future with. Just a quick peek at his beloved, handsome face.

  She froze as her mind grappled to make sense of the scene before her. Desmond stood directly in her line of vision. He was clad in a pair of dark slacks and a tailored white shirt, and his dark hair glistened in the overhead light.

  He definitely was not alone. Locked in his arms was a long-legged, tawny blonde wearing a short red dress that exposed long, shapely legs.

  A sister … a cousin… Samira's mind worked for a logical explanation. But, as she saw Desmond's hands move sensually down the woman's back to grab her buttocks, as he lowered his head and took her mouth with his, Samira knew the woman was no sister or cousin. She was obviously Desmond's lover.

  His lover.

  A sharp pain exploded in her heart, and somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized it as the shattering of hopes and dreams.

  He'd told her she was the only woman in his life. Only last week he'd told her how much he loved her, how lonely he was without her. He'd told her he counted the hours until they would be together again. He'd said so many things, so many sweet, wonderful things.

  Lies. All lies.

  Samira stumbled backward a step and tried desperately to contain the wrenching sob that begged to be released.

  She didn't want to see any more, yet couldn't tear her gaze away from the sight of the man whom she'd believed loved her kissing and caressing another woman.

  Someplace in the back of her mind, she knew she needed to escape, before Desmond saw her, before she completely humiliated herself. But her feet refused to listen to her brain, and she remained frozen in place as her heart broke into a million pieces.

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  From the moment they boarded the private jet, Farid Nasir knew that something was up with Samira. Throughout his years of working for the Kamal family, he'd watched Samira grow from a shy, unimposing young girl into a gentle, caring woman known for her warmth and openness.

  But on the plane ride, he'd seen a tension in her that had nothing to do with her dislike for flying. Her dark, long-lashed, almond-shaped eyes had snapped with secrets … and secrets worried Farid.

  She'd told
her father, Sheik Ahmed, that she was coming to Montebello to visit with Princess Anna, but her exclamation of surprise at learning that Princess Anna was absent from Montebello hadn't rung true.

  He now sat in a chair in the corner of the living room, waiting for Samira to finish freshening up and unpacking. It was just after nine, and he'd had to turn on a lamp against the encroaching darkness of night.

  Looking at his watch, he frowned. She'd now been in the bedroom for more than twenty minutes, and he'd heard no sound from the room in the past fifteen.

  He knew she hadn't gone to bed. The one thing he'd learned in the past two and a half months of being personally assigned as her bodyguard was that Princess Samira liked to stay up late and loved to sleep in during the morning hours.

  Again a disquieting unease crept through him. Instinct told him something was wrong, and Farid never ignored his instincts.

  He got up from his chair and went to her bedroom door. He hesitated a moment, then knocked. "Princess Samira?"

  There was no reply. No sound whatsoever seeped through the wooden door. No light shone from beneath the door, either.

  She couldn't be unpacking and freshening up in the darkness, he thought. The unease kicked up a notch, transforming into real concern.

  He knocked again and when there was still no answer, he twisted the knob and eased open the door.

  The room held a stillness that indicated emptiness. "Princess Samira?" he said softly, then turned on the overhead light.

  Immediately he spied the open window with the screen removed. Horror riveted through him. He raced to the window. Had somebody ripped the screen away to kidnap Samira? Was she now being held someplace for ransom? For political purposes? Farid knew as well as anyone that there were terrorist groups that always posed a threat to the members of the royal family.

  Fear, icy-cold and sickening, filled him. A fear that turned to rage as he realized the screen could not be removed from the outside, but only from the inside.