Page 20 of Hiding in the Sheik's Arms

All evidence to the contrary, Khal thought. “Why is your room a mess? Didn’t the palace maids come in to clean up for you?”

She sniffed slightly. “I don’t need someone cleaning up after me.” She glared out through her kohl-darkened eyes. “I’m not a spoiled little rich girl.”

“You’re a princess, Marianna,” he replied. “So actually,” he countered, bracing his hands on the sofa. “You reallyarea rich girl.”

There was a moment’s pause while she absorbed that. But only a moment. After that miniscule hesitation, she shrugged and went back to her phone flipping. “I’m not a princess. My mother wasn’t royal.” Four more flips. Her thumbs were very dexterous! “I only saw my father about four times in my entire life, and those visits were merely so he could look me over and ensure that I was making good grades.”

“And did you?”

She looked up at him, her long, black lashes fluttering despite the heavy layers of mascara. Khal realized that she’d probably be a lovely girl if she washed her face.

“Did I what?” she sneered. And smacked the glob of gum in her mouth.

“Make good grades?” he asked, walking around the sofa to take a seat. He made himself comfortable, ignoring the lump of clothes underneath him.

“Hey!” she snapped, sitting up and glaring at him. “Get off my clothes!”

Khal shrugged and leaned back in the seat. “You dumped them there. I figured that was just your way of decorating.” But he reached underneath him and tugged a…something…out from underneath him, dropping it on the floor.

Marianna jumped up, tugging a pair of what looked like shredded jeans out from behind him. “That doesn’t mean I want you to lay all over my stuff!”

“My apologies,” he said with a deep, firm voice. “I suppose we’ll both need to understand each other’s ways in order to get along, won’t we?”

Marianna hugged her jeans to her chest. Khal could tell that she was in pain. There was a deep sadness surrounding her and he ached to make it better. She didn’t look like a rebellious teenager at the moment. She looked…lost.

“Will you tell me about your mother?” he asked, ignoring the vibration of his cell phone at his hip.

“Why the hell don’t you already know about her?” Marianna asked, slumping back down on the sofa. Apparently, it didn’t bother her when she laid on her strewn clothes, but no one else was allowed to mishandle her stuff.

“I didn’t know your mother very well. She’d left Father after a very short time,” he explained. Khal saw her features soften ever so slightly. “Father never told me or my brothers that we had a sister.” His voice sounded harsh no matter how hard he tried to keep the resentment at bay. “If I’d known about you, Marianna, I would have come to meet you sooner. You never would have been kept away from us!”

She must have heard the sincerity in his voice because she stopped flipping and turned her head away. He knew that she was blinking back tears, but Khal didn’t say anything. If she wanted to keep her pain hidden for a while longer, that meant he just needed to figure out how to earn her trust.

“My mother was beautiful!” she whispered, still staring at the wall. “She loved my dad,” she looked over at Khal, “our dad,” she corrected, and Khal considered that to be a major victory, “with all her heart. She truly loved him.”

“Why didn’t she live here at the palace with us? Why did she leave?”

Marianna shrugged. “I don’t know. I know they were married, but I didn’t realize who he was, to the world, until I was about ten years old.” She let herself collapse against the soft cushions. “To me, he was just the guy who came around every once in a while and made my mother cry.”

“That must have been awful for you.”

The teen was filled with a large amount of justifiable rage, he realized.

She sighed and lifted the jeans she’d been hugging. For a moment, Marianna seemed confused as to why she’d been hugging them against her chest. A moment later, she huffed and dumped them onto the floor. “Whatever.” She lifted her phone and started scrolling again. “When do I get out of here?”

“You aren’t a prisoner, Marianna,” he replied as gently as possible.

She didn’t even bother to lower her phone as she demanded, “Then why are the goons outside following me everywhere?”

“Those goons are your personal bodyguard. As a member of the royal family and sister to the ruler of your country, I…”

“I’m French! I’m a French citizen! I speak French as my native language,” she argued, slipping into that language as if wanting to confuse him. “I also speak English, Spanish, and Arabic, but I’m French right down to my soul!”

“Be that as it may,” he replied in kind, “you are also my sister. And because of that, there is an increased risk of kidnapping and violence against you.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Those men and women are prepared to protect you with their lives, if necessary, Marianna. Through no fault oftheir own, they will die to save your life.” He fisted his hands on his hips, and continued. “Save your anger and fury for me, little sister. I can handle it. Don’t take your feelings out on the servants or your bodyguards.” He headed towards the doorway. “I’m heading out of town tonight. Will you have dinner with me in a few days? I’d enjoy learning more about you and your hopes and dreams.”

She snorted again and Khal sighed, shaking his head as he left the suite. He remembered reading something along the lines of how dogs prepare a person for babies while cats prepare a person for teenagers. Khal hadn’t ever had either.

Chapter 17

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