Sheikhs of Hamari: The Complete Series Page 5

  He had one moment of strange, aching emptiness, and then a door swung open at the back of the room. Hannah stood framed in the doorway. Carrying a cake. Candles flickered from the top.

  “Happy birthday, Ryan!” she cried, and then launched enthusiastically into the American birthday song.

  The rest of the children ran shrieking to the table and surrounded Ryan, whose face was incandescent.

  No. Chakir hadn’t agreed to this. In fact, he’d said this wasn’t supposed to happen. There had to be a way to steer this in another direction. He couldn’t stop the birthday party—that would be horrible. But he could remind them of the decorum that was required at royal celebrations, at least.

  Hannah pinned him with her gaze before he could even open his mouth. “Luncheon is over.” She smiled as she said the words over the tail end of the song. “And the party is starting!”

  Chakir felt a strange pride glowing at his center, and the tension gripping his throat fell away. Hannah was something else. A force, unlike anyone he’d ever met. She’d defied him when it came to the party…and far from making him angry, it only made him want to know more about her. He wanted to know every detail of her life that had given her the courage to throw off his orders like they were nothing.

  It couldn’t become a habit, of course. But her independence—defiance, even—came from a place of such goodness and love that it stole his breath.

  He had to find a way to spend more time with her. Alone time.

  She set the cake in front of Ryan, and he blew out the candles to loud cheers. One of the waiters from the banquet stepped up and cut the cake while Ryan supervised, and Hannah came to Chakir’s side.

  “You agreed to let Ryan have a life of his own. This is the first step.” She shrugged one shoulder, as if it were no big deal.

  “We didn’t discuss—”

  She put a hand on his shoulder. “Go have a piece of cake, Chakir. It’s all that’s left to do.”

  He took a long look at the happy faces surrounding the table.

  The luncheon was over.

  And more than he wanted decorum and rule following, he wanted to see the smiles on Ryan’s and Hannah’s faces. The sight of both filled him with a deep happiness.

  He could explain the rules—again—another day.

  8

  Hannah sat at a table in the sitting room, feeling as useless as she ever had in her entire life. It had taken all of three weeks in Hamari for her to become part of the scenery. Not that she expected to be the center of attention—far from it. She’d known from the moment Chakir had told her how Ryan fit into the royal family that she was just along for the ride.

  She put a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. Her days in the driver’s seat had been over anyway. In the States she’d been a single mom with an all-consuming job. She’d barely been hanging on to the wheel.

  Nobody seemed to notice her amusement.

  Hannah had opted for an independent study during this session of Ryan’s training. He sat two tables away with Chakir and Mr. Medhi. The three of them focused intently on the place setting in front of Ryan as Mr. Medhi explained which fork was which and how to lay his napkin in his lap when he wasn’t using it.

  Hannah couldn’t add anything. She’d brought a slim notebook—Ms. Shadha wouldn’t be coming today—and had already run out of notes to make. A short list of Ryan’s upcoming appointments, which was largely pointless because someone would come knock on the door of their suite whenever he had to be somewhere. Tentative ideas for meetups with the children of the dignitaries who frequented the palace. And doodles. Lots of doodles.

  The restlessness started in her toes and worked its way higher, up past her knees. Hannah couldn’t ignore it. When it wrapped itself around her hips, she reacted, rising quietly.

  The two men—and Ryan—didn’t seem to notice her leave, and she breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door to the sitting room shut behind her. She just needed a minute. She just needed to do something.

  Back in the suite, Hannah settled for the walk-in closet. The palace staff kept the clothes clean and pressed. But Hannah dove in, rearranging everything they’d brought with them. It wasn’t much, but she’d added to it since they’d been in Hamari. Hannah’s old wardrobe, which had been meant to stand up to the depredations of kindergarteners and their paint spills and general stickiness, wasn’t up to any kind of royal lifestyle. And Ryan’s, of course, had been meant to stand up to a school year’s worth of actually participating in preschool and kindergarten. Couldn’t stand on a stage in ratty jeans, could he? No.

  The next morning, she woke up early just to make her own bed.

  It took the maids exactly one day to catch up to her, subtly adjusting their schedules so that the bed was made by the time she stepped out of the shower.

  Hannah changed tactics, returning to her clothes. But on the fourth day she gave away too much. She’d left a dress a few inches away from the others on its hanger, intending to press out a seam where it had somehow folded against the other garments.

  Her personal body woman, Nadima, already had the ironing board out when Hannah came into the closet in her robe that morning.

  “Oh, I was going to do that,” she said. “Switch places with me, and I’ll finish up.”

  Nadima flashed her an indulgent smile. “I don’t think so, Miss Fisher.”

  “Nadima, I wanted to do the ironing.” She wanted to do more than iron clothes. But ironing was at least something she could do right here and now. Theoretically. “Let me have it.” Hannah held out her hand.

  The other woman pressed the button and let some steam down onto the dress. “I’m very nearly done.”

  “Give me the iron, Nadima. Seriously. I want to iron.”

  “Good morning, Hannah.”

  Hannah whirled around at the sound of Chakir’s voice. He stood in the doorway, hovering in a way that would be awkward if he wasn’t so sexy. “Chakir. What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you’d be…dressed,” he said. The robe was fluffy and tied tightly around her waist, but Hannah flushed underneath it. “What are you doing in the closet?”

  “She’s trying to do the ironing, Sheikh Chakir,” Nadima called, giving Hannah a sly grin.

  Chakir arched an eyebrow at Hannah. “The ironing?”

  “Yes,” she said, a defense rising to her lips.

  “Well, leave the ironing to the staff,” Chakir said. “Come talk to me a moment. I have something else for you to do.”

  He took her hand and drew her out of the closet, out of the bedroom, and into the suite’s living room. Hannah found herself drinking him in, the way she couldn’t stop doing when they were close together. Only this time, she wasn’t memorizing the golden brown of his eyes over a table at one of Ryan’s sessions. They were alone, standing side by side. And his thumb stroked her wrist, sending a tingly thrill up her arm and straight to her heart.

  Hannah latched onto his words like a drowning woman might claw at a life preserver tossed into the sea. “Really? What? And where?”

  Chakir chuckled, low and smooth. “I’ve set up a meeting with a local soccer coach.”

  Hannah blinked. “I don’t play soccer.”

  “For Ryan.” Chakir’s laugh grew out of another sultry chuckle that made Hannah want to leap across the room and pin him to the wall. “Your son, Ryan? You wanted to give him a chance to be out in the world, didn’t you?”

  Hannah flicked her eyes skyward. “Yes, I did. I do.”

  “Plus, it could be good for both of you to get out a bit. Show Ryan the way.”

  Purpose draped itself over Hannah’s shoulders like the sash she’d worn when she was a Girl Scout. Ah—there it was. A weight lifted from the center of her chest and a muscle at the back of her neck released its tension. She did have a purpose. It wasn’t the purpose she thought she’d have, but it was hers, nonetheless.

  “I agree,” she said. “When is the meeting? Should we leave now? I’m rea
dy.”

  Chakir’s eyes lingered on hers, then lower. Heat settled onto her skin. “You’re not.”

  She remembered her robe.

  She raised a hand to pull it closed…but she didn’t really want to.

  “Let me get dressed,” she said, not moving quickly at all. “Then I’ll be ready.”

  “Of course we’d be happy to accommodate Ryan’s security team. That’s a given.” The soccer coach, a man named Ori Tannous, sat across from Hannah and Ryan at a coffee shop close to the palace’s front gates. Well—he hardly sat. He shifted his weight, somehow always in motion despite the hot coffee in front of him.

  “It’s a necessity,” said Chakir. “We need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

  Hannah fixed Ori with a smile. “Don’t you think that’s a little much?”

  Chakir’s eyebrows flew up. “It’s not too much for safety.”

  “Won’t the other little boys think he’s even more of an outsider, with armed guards following his every move?”

  The second the words were out of Hannah’s mouth, she heard how idiotic she sounded. This was about Ryan’s safety, and here she was, worried about his reputation with the other kids on the team.

  “What if you signed on as a coach?” Ori asked Chakir. “We have parents volunteer when they can, but it would be doubly convenient because we could blame the security on your presence, Sheikh.”

  Chakir stared across at Ori, and Hannah held her breath. Parents. Ori had said parents. Hannah’s chest expanded with the thrumming beat of her heart. How was Chakir going to take this? She couldn’t look away from his face. He narrowed his eyes, then cocked his head to the side, and then…

  “I’d do it.”

  Relief. Sweet, sweet relief.

  “I’m a fan of soccer. I can help coach.”

  Ori’s eyes lit up. “Are you watching the match tonight?”

  Chakir scoffed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “You have plans?”

  The sheikh lifted his chin a fraction of an inch. “Only to watch back at the palace.”

  “No, no, no,” said Ori. “You’ve got to come to my favorite tavern. It’s a far better atmosphere. Compared with most places,” he finished quickly.

  “Yes!” Hannah held back from clapping her hands, but only just. “Let’s go, Chakir. It sounds like fun.”

  He hesitated long enough that Hannah’s breath caught. Then his eyes met hers, and she read something in them—desire, warmth, promise. Her core heated at the idea of everything he wasn’t saying.

  “All right,” said Chakir. “This one time.”

  Hannah took a big breath in of the charged air in the tavern. For the first time since she’d landed in Hamari, she felt at home.

  The tavern was loud and crowded. Chakir had given fake names to the bartender, and Hannah leaned against the only spare six inches of bar as they waited for drinks. Those fake names had come so easily.

  “You’re not bad,” she told Chakir.

  “Bad at what?”

  “Breaking the rules.” She gave him a little grin. “We need aliases to go to the bar?”

  His answering grin sent shockwaves down every inch of her spine. “We’d be mobbed if I use my real name.”

  Ori swung by then, putting a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Is it good? Do you like it here?”

  “It’s a great tavern, Ori,” Chakir said, not taking his eyes from Hannah’s face. He’d barely looked away from her since they’d decided to come out for the game. A cheer went up around them, and Ori joined in. Then he was gone, back into the crowd.

  “People seem happy here,” Hannah said, and in this sea of people she felt free at last. Free from the palace and its rules and its luxuries and the constant pressure to give Ryan a normal life alongside this very new and strange one.

  “Are you happy here?” Chakir asked.

  His eyes on hers burned right into her soul. “I’d be happier if we could…talk.”

  Talk. Like they were on a date. Were they? His eyes said one thing, his words…nothing.

  Chakir nodded behind them. An empty booth—a miracle. “Let’s sit down.” But when they sat, Chakir broke another rule—he slid in next to her, on the same side. “So we can hear each other,” he said.

  And then he was close, with his hot body and dressed-down clothes and tousled hair, and Hannah leaned in.

  Chakir didn’t lean away.

  Hannah wasn’t sure who went the last inch, but their lips met in a tentative glancing way.

  For all of one second.

  Then it was a crash, a tidal swell, a desperate search. They kissed until the final goal, when the cheers made them come up for air.

  “Let me tell you a secret,” Chakir said, his forehead against hers, his breath a feather stroke against her cheek.

  A sparkling anticipation moved over her in a wave. “Please do.”

  “I agreed to come here so I could get you alone. Away from palace eyes.”

  Her pulse quickened. “Even though that’s against all your royal rules?”

  Chakir pressed another kiss to the line of her jaw. “I care less about the royal rules when I can feel your skin against mine.”

  “I don’t think I care about them at all,” Hannah said, feeling more than a little breathless.

  “What I do care about is you. Tell me something about yourself. Something nobody else knows.”

  “What will you give me for my secrets?” Hannah teased. “I don’t give them away for free.”

  “I’ll buy you another drink,” offered Chakir. “I’ll buy us another walk in the garden, with no interruptions.”

  “Not good enough,” said Hannah. “I’ll only accept your offer if it includes a closed door with a lock to shut out the rest of the palace.”

  “We’ll have to see about that.”

  “Here’s a secret.” Hannah paused, a laugh playing around her lips. “I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you on my front porch.”

  “Let me tell you another secret,” Chakir said. “I want to kiss you even more right now.”

  She was bowled over by that kiss, swept down to the bottom of the heat between them. Chakir kissed her as if no rules waited for them at the palace…as if nothing and everything were at stake. Sweet and hot and exhilarating.

  Hannah felt that kiss long after they’d slipped away, heading back to the palace under the cover of celebration.

  9

  Chakir blew the whistle long and loud. The boys on Ryan’s team ran in wide arcs through the field. No matter how much they ran, they still had energy left. As he stood in the sun on the sidelines, his own childhood came back to him, the memories like a sunburn on his skin.

  Maybe that was a bit of a sunburn, come to think of it. Never in his life had Chakir foreseen a future where he’d spend so much of his time on a leisure activity. Or a future where he’d be spending so much time with a woman like Hannah.

  Hannah had changed a lot since she’d landed in Hamari.

  “How do they run like that?”

  Chakir looked over his shoulder at Hannah, who stood under a white tent at the side of the field. She wore red today, and the fabric of the dress lifted and played in the breeze. After that kiss at the bar, he wanted his hands on the hem of that dress, lifting it inch by inch until…

  She raised her eyebrows. “Chakir?”

  His brain scrambled to remember what she’d said to make him look her way in the first place. “They have limitless energy, don’t they?” He forced his attention back to the boys. Ori jogged alongside them, offering pointers. When they fizzled out a second time, Ori blew his whistle and gathered them into a clutch at the center of the field.

  Perhaps they didn’t have limitless energy. It had been almost forty minutes, and Ryan’s skin was shining with sweat. But the boy could not stop beaming. He was the first to start running during every drill and the last to stop. Chakir should probably build in more time for him to run and play during his da
ily schedule.

  “He’s happy here,” Hannah said softly, her voice carrying on the breeze. “He’s missed his friends. I didn’t think he had that many friends at his daycare. I was wrong about that.” This last bit she murmured mostly to herself while Chakir watched the boys on the field.

  “You were right about this, though. He did need time with other children.”

  “Didn’t you, when you were his age?” Hannah laughed. “You didn’t stay inside the palace walls for your entire youth like Rapunzel, did you?”

  Chakir grinned, though she couldn’t see it. “No. I went to school and university. But my schedule was always a bit different from everyone else’s. It’s a fact of being royal.”

  Across the field, Chakir’s security team—along with a couple additional members for Ryan—made the slow circuit up and down the field. Two of them split off, posting themselves back at the corners of the field. They were particularly skilled at looking casual, though Chakir knew they weren’t. The men on his team constantly scanned their surroundings for any sign of danger. He could tell by looking that there were none.

  “You didn’t seem very royal at the tavern last night,” Hannah said.

  Desire curled itself through every one of his veins. She was bold. She was courageous. And she bantered with him. She was everything he’d always wanted. But Chakir stood right out in the open, so he couldn’t let himself feel it—not the way he wanted to. “Very risky, Hannah.”

  “What’s risky?”

  He stole another glance at her. “Flirting with me in public.”

  “This is what you count as public?” Chakir looked at her full-on, then. Her eyes twinkled and danced even in the shade of the tent. “Your team shut down the entire complex for the practice. There’s nobody here.”

  This wasn’t strictly true. Other parents filtered in and out, making stops at a small concession stand at the far end of the field. A matching tent across from where Hannah stood had attracted a couple of the mothers.