The Sheikh and the Bought Bride. Susan Mallery
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seemed like a good idea. “How long have you lived in the desert?”
“Since I graduated from university.”
“Why the desert?”
“When I was ten, my brothers and I spent the summer in the desert. It is a traditional for the king’s sons to learn the ways of the nomads. I had always found the palace and rules constricting. For me, being in the desert was like coming home. I came back every summer, living with different tribes. One year I lived in the village and knew that was to be my home.”
“You didn’t want to spend all your time visiting Paris and dating supermodels?”
“I have been to Paris. It is a beautiful city. Just not for me.”
“And the supermodels?”
He didn’t bother answering.
The sun was hot, but not oppressive. Victoria adjusted her hat and was grateful she’d used her five minutes to slather on sunscreen.
“What do you do in the village? I can’t see you selling used camels.”
“I am working with the elders and business owners to develop a more stable financial infrastructure. There is plenty of capital flowing through the area, but no one is capturing it and using it effectively.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You have a degree in finance.”
“Yes.”
“It shows.”
He changed tactics. “How did you come to work for Nadim?”
“He was in Dallas for several weeks. His assistant had a medical emergency and had to fly back to El Deharia. I’d worked with his assistant and apparently got a good review. Nadim asked that I be assigned to him and when he went back, he offered me a job.”
“Was it love at first sight for you?”
While there wasn’t exactly a sneer in the question, there was definite tone.
“I never claimed to love him,” she said primly.
“Does that make it better or worse?”
“I did my job well. Nadim had no complaints about my performance. As to the rest, arranged marriages are still a tradition in this part of the world. I was just trying to arrange my own.”
“So you could be rich.”
He still didn’t get it.
“It’s not about money.”
“So you have said.” He sounded as if he didn’t believe her.
She looked out over the desert. She couldn’t see anything resembling a village, but she wished they would get there quickly. Suddenly riding with Kateb wasn’t that much fun anymore.
Annoyance bubbled inside of her until it spilled out. “You haven’t got a clue,” she told him. “You can’t know. You grew up a prince, in privilege. You never worried about having enough to eat. You don’t know what it’s like to see your mom crying because there’s no food for dinner because your dad took all the money. He would do that—come in and take every cent she had. Sometimes he would sell stuff, like our TV. One time he sold her car and she had to walk to work for nearly a year while she saved enough to get a down payment for a new one.”
Victoria drew in a breath. “I was poor. Dirt poor. My clothes came from the church ladies who brought them by. While I appreciate their intentions, it was humiliating to be given clothes their daughters had already worn at school. To have to walk into class the next day and listen to the laughter and whispers. You’ve never had to stand in a different line at lunch because your food was paid for by the state and everyone knew. You don’t understand what it’s like to be a charity case.”
She hadn’t been paying attention so she hadn’t noticed how big the past had grown until it overwhelmed her. The need to get away made her kick her horse, then lean forward in the saddle as the gelding raced toward the horizon.
Kateb watched her go. She was riding in the correct direction so he didn’t worry about her getting lost. If she gave her horse his head, he would find his way back to the stable.
Victoria moved well in the saddle, although her shoulders were slumped forward, as if weighed down by a heavy burden.
Did she speak the truth? He didn’t know her well enough to trust her word, but the shame in her eyes had been real, as had the pain in her voice. If she had grown up as poor as she said, perhaps he could understand why security was so important to her. It also explained her obsession with clothes and finding things on sale.
She rode up to the slight rise, then reined in her horse. He joined her.
“Is that the village?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
“You have to work on your definitions.”
Victoria had imagined a few tents, a primitive barn, maybe a lean-to. What she saw instead was a thriving rural city, with streets and houses and barns and fields.
“They farm?” she asked.
“Yes. There are several underground rivers that provide irrigation. In the desert, water is life.”
She couldn’t take it all in. “How many people live here?”
“Several thousand.”
“Hardly a village.”
“It has grown.”
The fields were outside the structures, stretching out along the edges of the valley and up the hills in terraces. There were several open-air markets, a larger building that could have been a church or a school. A road wound down into the valley. She could see the trucks slowly moving toward the village. At the far end of the valley, up against the cliffs, a stone structure seemed to dominate the landscape.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing toward it.
“The Winter Palace.”
“Palace for whom?”
“In ancient times, the King of El Deharia would spend a few months here each year. When that stopped, the elders’ council established a leader for the people. He is nominated and serves a twenty-five-year term.”
She remembered hearing about that. Kateb was supposed to be on the short list for that job. “Twenty-five years is a long time. They don’t want to make a mistake.”
“If they do, there are ways to unseat him.”
“And it always has to be a man, right?”
He flashed that killer smile again. “Of course. We are progressive, but we do not yet support the idea of a woman ruling.”
“That is just so typical,” she muttered. “So the leader gets the palace and all that goes with it?”
“Yes. The previous leader, Bahjat, died a few months ago, causing the new search. He graciously allowed me rooms in the palace when I was in residence.”
“Because you’re the king’s son.”
“Partially. We were close. He was like a grandfather to me.”
“Then you must miss him.”
Kateb nodded and started down the side of the mountain.
The trail was easier than it looked. Victoria hung on, letting her horse pick his way. She would guess he was a lot more sure-footed than she would be.
It took nearly an hour to make their way to the valley. They rode past fields and farmhouses, then moved onto a dirt path beside a paved road. She couldn’t believe how big the so-called village was and how many people lived here. There was an interesting combination of old and new. Wa-termills nestled next to generators.
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