To Kiss a Sheikh. Teresa Southwick
with a plain woman.
“So your mother’s advice is our gain,” Fariq commented.
“I hope you continue to feel that way.” She removed her glasses for a moment and rubbed just above the bridge of her nose where the eye pads chafed. She missed her contacts—
Princess Farrah leaned toward her. “Crystal, do you really need your glasses to correct your vision?”
The question stunned her. Just when she’d thought it was safe to let her guard down, there was an unexpected zinger. Hurriedly she put her glasses back on and nearly poked herself in the eye.
“Why d-do you ask?”
“Because your eyes are quite lovely. And your skin is absolutely flawless—from what I can tell you aren’t wearing cosmetics of any kind.”
“I’m not.” She sighed, deciding to leave it at that. “I’m blind as a bat without corrective lenses. Near sightedness combined with astigmatism distorts my vision terribly.” At least that much was the honest truth. “Without my glasses I wouldn’t be able to see across the table.” She met Fariq’s penetrating gaze and decided maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. “Although in my own defense I’d like to point out it’s quite a large table.”
“Yes it is,” the princess answered. “But how unfortunate. Without such eyewear, I believe you have the potential to be quite pretty. Have you ever considered looking into contacts?”
Crystal grinned. “Good one, Your Highness.”
“What?” The woman’s brow furrowed as she thought.
“Your pun—looking into contacts—”
“What does it matter?” Fariq’s voice was edged with annoyance. “She’s fine as she is. Beauty is a highly overrated quality.”
Rafiq leaned his forearms against the table. “So, my brother, you would prefer a woman with a face that would stop a clock?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“If beauty does not move you, what female attributes do you find enticing?” Kamal asked, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly.
“Honesty,” Fariq said without hesitation.
Of all the attributes he could have named, that was the one Crystal could have done without. Not only that, this man had a high profile all over the world. His name had been linked with some of the world’s most stunning women. But he was more interested in candor than comeliness. That pretty much shocked her right out of her support stockings.
So she said the only thing she could think of. “My mother always says beauty is as beauty does.”
After several moments of silence the king asked, “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.” Crystal shook her head. “I think it has something to do with using genetic gifts only for good.”
Everyone laughed, including Fariq, and she was glad to have lightened a moment quickly becoming awkward and tense. With luck, Princess Farrah would stop trying to make her over. And what was that all about anyhow? What about the whole “plain” nanny scenario? It didn’t take a billboard ad on the interstate for her to get the message that the king frowned on his sons pursuing anything of a personal nature with the hired help.
Crystal finally chalked it up to a chick thing. Women couldn’t resist make-overs. She could only hope the matter would be dropped. Because she wasn’t a superhero. She had no tricks up her cape to preserve her alter ego. And she didn’t want to think about what would happen if Fariq found out she could look better if she wanted.
Chapter Three
Fariq tossed the file he’d been reading onto the coffee table in his suite. The more he tried to concentrate on work, the more his thoughts turned to his children’s new nanny. At dinner several hours before, he’d found her to be a curious yet intriguing mixture of spirit and intelligence.
He had sworn on the honor of his ancestors not to be taken in by a beautiful face ever again. Was it breaking his promise to think about this woman? She was certainly not the stunning sort with whom he was constantly and erroneously linked. But he’d found her pleasant and surprising.
He looked at the open French doors leading onto the balcony as a noise from outside drifted to him. After rising from the sofa, he walked to the doorway and glanced out. The night was dark as clouds covered the moon. But in the shadows to his right, he saw a figure leaning on the balcony railing outside the rooms where his children slept.
“Hello,” he said.
Crystal whirled at the sound of his voice. Dim light from inside the suite illuminated her as she pressed a hand to her chest. “Good grief,” she gasped, “I thought I was alone.”
“And so you were until I came outside. This balcony runs the length of my suite. All the rooms are connected by it, and from here we can see the ocean. My bedroom is there,” he said pointing to the room past the living area.
“Oh. I didn’t actually understand the layout. I just came out for some air. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t,” he lied.
She’d disturbed him even before he’d discovered her outside his window, a wraith in the night. He noticed that her hair was no longer pulled away from her forehead in the excruciatingly severe style she favored. A breeze from the Arabian Sea blew the strands across her face. Although the exact shade was still hidden by the shadows, he could tell that the length hung down her back and the ends caressed her waist.
Most contemporary women of fashion did not wear such a long style. Clearly, Crystal was not a woman of fashion. Her long hair was lovely. But the temptation to run his fingers through the glossy length annoyed him.
As his eyes adjusted from the light inside to the darkness of night, he noted further details about her. His pulse jumped when he realized she was dressed for bed. Her sleeping attire was high-necked and demure. Looking more closely, he saw that her nightgown was white, fashioned from satin and lace. Somehow that made it more erotic.
She wasn’t wearing a robe—because she’d thought she was alone? Life with his wife had taught him to question everything, and he wondered if Crystal truly hadn’t known of his presence. Or if she had another agenda. But the manner in which she clung to the shadows hinted of a guileless quality that complemented the virginal image she portrayed in her innocent, high-necked nightgown. He swallowed hard, telling himself it was past time to go back inside. But he found that to do so required more energetic determination than he possessed just now.
Moving closer, he stopped just close enough to inhale the seductive scent of her skin.
“It’s late,” she said. “I’d better go in.”
Her voice held a breathy, husky quality that he found pleasing and far too appealing. “Of course. You are still adjusting to the time difference. You must be tired.”
“Oddly enough, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Then please stay,” he said. “Keep me company.”
What had made him ask that? It was unwise and foolhardy to voluntarily seek out a woman’s company—any woman. What was it about this one that dissolved his common sense?
“Okay.”
The single word spoken in her soft tone chafed his nerve endings. He shook his head. Enough of this nonsense. She was nanny to his children. He would discuss them with her.
“Hana and Nuri—are they asleep?”
She nodded. “Like little angels.”
“I wish to thank you for taking their part tonight—with the king.”
“You needn’t thank me. They were behaving exactly like average five-year-olds and doing