| The Sheiks Of Kumar - Part III The Playboy By CJ |
| Chapter 2 “Mommy, you’re walking too fast,” little Tamara complained. Maria slowed her pace, completely oblivious to the fact that she was trying to speed-walk away from the dark, handsome royal prince and dragging her small daughter along with her. “Sorry, Tamara,” Maria apologized as they rounded the corner. Maria took a glance behind her, wondering if Zak was watching them in their escape and saw him engaged in a conversation with his sister outside the restaurant. She sighed with relief, or was it disappointment? No, it was relief. He was not watching her, he was carrying on with his day and Maria was glad for that. “Who was that man?” Tamara asked. Maria hesitated for a moment, because Tamara rarely inquired about adults. Usually, she ignored adults she did not know. She was at the age where anything above her eyesight was nothing she paid attention to. Her asking about Zak was strange. “He’s just a man I met yesterday. He’s staying near grandma’s house,” Maria explained carefully. “At Cant-berry?” Tamara asked, unable to pronounce the estate’s name just yet. Maria giggled, always amused with Tamara’s conversation and said, “No, but near there. Why are you so curious?” “I liked him,” she announced. Maria would have paused and gaped at her daughter, for her revelation was again stunning, but they were close to home, a small two-bedroom apartment located on the bottom floor of an old historic, clapboard house. The old house was divided into two apartments and the elderly lady next door often baby-sat for Maria when she worked. It was a small place, yet clean and affordable. Maria enjoyed it, though it was entirely too small for her and her daughter at times. They walked up the steps, onto the porch and entered the apartment. Tamara had dropped the subject of the handsome man and once they were inside and the groceries were put away, Maria took a moment to think about Villa Serena and its current occupants. She needed to call Shawna. She had decided earlier in the day that she would. Running into Zak only reminded her of the upcoming wedding and how she needed to reconnect with her old friends now that she was settled in town. As she dialed the number to Villa Serena, she glanced at herself in the mirror above the end table. Her long, dark hair with the few bangs she wore was loosely tied in a ponytail. Wisps of long strands had escaped and she pushed them out of her eyes then looked down at herself clad in jeans and a yellow T-shirt, an old gray zip-up sweatshirt tied about her waist. My goodness! Is this how she had looked only moments before when she’d encountered Zak? She was a mess. She then felt the spot on her arm that he had touched tingle with a strange energy and she rubbed it away. She didn’t need to worry about her appearance or stress over any touch from him because aside from good looks and fine taste in sports cars, the man had nothing she wanted. “Villa Serena,” a male voice announced over the telephone. Maria pulled her thoughts away from the brief encounter and focused on her current activity. “I’m calling for Shawna Patrick,” she finally uttered. “Who may I ask is calling?” the voice inquired. “Maria Bl…uh, Maria Sandoval.” Maria had almost used her former married name, but after her divorce, she had changed it back to Sandoval, her maiden name. Tamara still possessed Blake, for though her ex-husband had not been very involved in Tamara’s life, Maria did want her daughter to have a piece of him with her. Though Maria wanted nothing else to do with him or his memory, she didn’t want Tamara’s life to be completely devoid of her father’s memory. “Maria Sandoval?” the man repeated. “One moment please.” When Shawna’s voice came on over the phone, Maria found herself smiling broadly and quickly began talking about the upcoming wedding. “You are coming, aren’t you, Maria?” Shawna inquired. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” “Good, because I know making Tara’s wedding in Kumar was impossible, but you have to at least make mine. It’s been months since we’ve all seen each other,” Shawna insisted. “It has been.” And so much had happened since last spring that it felt like a lifetime to Maria. “Are you back in town? I wasn’t sure of your address so I sent an invite over to Canterbury.” “Uh, yes, I’m in town now.” “So that must mean you’re done with school and already have a teaching job?” Shawna guessed. “No, not exactly,” Maria said hesitantly, not wanting to tell her friend everything over the phone when she sounded so excited about the upcoming events at Villa Serena. “Why not? Maria, what happened?” Shawna asked, her exuberance suddenly dimming. “Oh, nothing you need to worry about, Shawna. Now, just tell me when you and Tara and I can all get together and we’ll talk more then.” Shawna made a date for the next morning for a long ride. Maria would borrow Samson again and meet up with Tara and Shawna at Villa Serena. She couldn’t wait. Perhaps some time with her old friends would set her straight again. ** The white stucco walls of the stables had been slightly renovated over the years and the fine Arabian horse stock had increased. Aside from that, the beauty of Villa Serena’s stables was as she remembered from her younger years as she met Tara and Shawna for an early morning ride. The three women hugged each other with friendship and sisterly affection and being with her old friends again made Maria feel at ease. She was glad they had decided to meet for a ride, for Maria had not realized how much she needed friends until she had laid eyes upon Tara and Shawna. Tara was still the refined, beautiful brunette who could handle any steed with ease and Shawna, with her dark blonde hair and spunky attitude, was still as determined and willful as ever who could more than likely handle any of the Armanjani men. They spent a half hour talking about old times and their current lives before they even thought about mounting up and riding through the vines. During that time, Maria was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Tara’s husband and Shawna’s fiancé. Nikash and Rafee were two of the most handsome men Maria had chanced to lay eyes upon. Both were blessed with tall, dark looks and finely structured features. Nikash was open and warm, while Rafee was guarded and cool, yet friendly enough to make Maria feel welcome. And both reminded her very much of Zak. The Armanjanis were all truly blessed in their looks, for Maria had yet to see one who did not harbor the most beautiful of features. “Wow,” Maria said to her friends after the two men had driven away in a forest green SUV on their way to run errands in San Francisco. “The scenery around this estate has certainly improved.” “Then you approve of our choice of men?” Shawna asked. Maria smiled and answered, “Yes, I approve very much. Tell me, does the entire family look that good?” “Yes. The women are just as beautiful as the men are handsome,” Tara explained. “And they are wonderful people.” Maria paused as she listened to Tara’s words. Wonderful? Well, she had to wonder if she would give that title to Zak whose personality had been nothing but arrogant since the moment she’d laid eyes upon him. Honestly, Maria confessed, “I’m happy to hear that, because I had a run in with one of the Armanjani men the other day, and I began to worry just what you two were getting yourselves into. But after meeting Nik and Rafee, I see you’re in good hands.” At Maria’s words, both Shawna and Tara frowned. “Who did you run into?” Shawna inquired. “Zak. He and that sports car are dangerous.” Tara and Shawna then glanced at each other and smiled knowingly. “Yes, we know about his reputation behind the wheel,” Tara said, “that’s why we drive ourselves everywhere.” “And he does have a reputation for the ladies,” Shawna added, “that’s why we will never introduce our friends to him.” “But, aside from that, he is family and we adore him. You just have to look past his charms,” Tara said. Maria allowed the subject to rest, for what Tara and Shawna had told her about Zak was what she had already guessed for herself. He was definitely a playboy wrapped up in his own existence. The three women spent the rest of the morning riding through the picturesque property of Villa Serena. During that time, Maria listened to Tara recount her story about how the corrupt lawyer, Gabe Bryant, had embezzled her family money and forced her to sell Villa Serena. Then she spoke of how Nikash had bought the estate, romanced her and taken her to the exotic family palace in Kumar to marry her in front of the entire royal family. As for Shawna, she had met Rafee, Nik’s younger brother, while investigating Gabe Bryant’s illegal activities. Though their courtship had not been as romantic as Tara’s and Nik’s, they had fallen madly in love and become working partners. In fact, after their wedding, Shawna was going to move to Kumar and work along-side Rafee in the security department of the Armanjani family oil business. “Does that mean we’ll never get to see you, Shawna?” Maria asked worriedly. “No, you’ll still see me. Rafee and I will do a lot of traveling between the Armanjani corporate offices because of our jobs and we promise to stop off here as often as possible,” Shawna assured her. Tara then broke in and inquired, “So, you’ve gotten the scoop on both of our lives. What about yours? Last time we all saw each other, you were divorced and going back to college to get your teaching credential. How’s that all going?” Maria sighed, put all her thoughts together and answered, “Roger died in a military training accident not long after your father’s funeral, Tara.” Tara gasped. “I’m sorry, Maria. I mean, I know you and Roger weren’t on the best of terms after your divorce, but still, it couldn’t be easy.” “No, I’d never wish ill upon Roger. And I’m sorry he won’t be around for Tamara. Not that he ever was there for her,” she added with sarcasm. “But, after his death, we received a small amount of money from his military life insurance, but without the monthly child support and alimony the military provided and with only the part-time job I had that worked around my classes, I couldn’t afford to stay in San Jose, live on my own and go to school. So, I moved back here just recently to be near mom and dad so they could help with Tamara, I have a small place in town and am working at High Point as a waitress until I can find a way to finish my last semester of school.” Tara and Shawna both looked at Maria with sympathy. Their friend had not fared as well in the recent past as they had. “Maria, I’m so sorry,” Tara said with her sweet air. “I know how much you wanted to finish school and teach.” “I will. I’ve just been temporarily sidetracked. That’s all. I figure I can save up the money in a year or so,” Maria added. “Or, you could take a loan from me,” Tara offered. “I did get all my money back that Gabe embezzled. I have more than…” “No,” Maria interrupted to decline. If she would not take money from her parents, she wasn’t about to accept money from her friends. “But Maria,” Tara argued. “I have more than enough. And Nik, he’s very well off too. We’d never miss the money.” Maria was thankful for Tara’s generosity, but still too proud to accept it. “I thank you, Tara, for your thoughtfulness, but I have to do this on my own. And I have a shot at a scholarship that I’m applying for. It’s a long-shot, but I’m hoping,” Maria explained. Tara nodded her head in understanding and said, “I just thought I’d offer. And I understand about wanting to do this on your own. But remember, you can always lean on me if things don’t work out.” “I know,” Maria answered as they walked the horses back to the stables after their long morning ride. “And if things become dire, you never know, you may just hear from me. But for so long I relied upon Roger to dictate my life and make all the decisions and when we divorced, I wasn’t ready to stand on my own two feet. Now, and for the past two years, I’m proving to myself that I can.” Maria thought back on her marriage. She’d dropped out of college, against her parents’ wishes and advice, and married a man she thought she loved and whom she thought loved her. He had been the only man she’d been serious about and at twenty, she was too naive to realize what they felt for each other was not strong enough to last. Roger had been immature and self-centered on his own career. Maria had not understood that at the time. She’d believed he was focused and spontaneous, but after five years of marriage and following him around from military base to military base and raising their daughter on her own, she had learned that Roger was not good husband and father material after all. Their marriage had quickly disintegrated after she had seen the light and now, at twenty-seven, she was determined to never again make a wrong decision about a man. If she ever fell for a man again, she would find a stable, mature man who shared all the important decisions with her. Never again would she fall for any man who was self-centered and immature. And she would avoid men all together until she had her education finished and a career underway. That resolve stuck with her as she parted ways with Tara and Shawna, promising to return in a few days for a pre-wedding pool party they were throwing at Villa Serena, and began her trek back to Canterbury. When she had begun her ride back to Canterbury, she had been filled with resolve. As she rode on and thought more about her ruined marriage and her current situation, she began to feel self-pity—something she was rarely prone to. And that atypical emotion suddenly overwhelmed her. Though she had spent a wonderful morning with her friends, her mind was ignoring those warm feelings and focusing on the pain of the past. Angry with herself as she felt her brain succumb to her dark thoughts, Maria reined in Samson near the rippling creek that ran through Villa Serena’s property, dismounted and sunk to the ground, crying. She wanted to chastise herself. Here she was, balling like a baby. She hadn’t cried when she’d divorced Roger and found herself on her own. She hadn’t cried when he had died and she’d lost her source of income and been forced to leave school. But now, after a nice morning with her friends and a short conversation about the turn of events in her life, she breaks down! What was wrong with her? Was this the beginning of her losing her mind? Was this how it went after all the downturns her life had taken? No! She shook her head. She was not losing her mind and she was not going to wallow in self-pity! After all, she had made it the past two years on her own she would continue to survive. Yet tell that to her eyes that refused to stop watering for though her mind had resolved to erase all self-pity, tears continued to flow. ** Though the morning called for a good run, Zak made a quick detour up to the main house, which was his ritual every morning, to seek out a glass of orange juice, something small to eat and possibly company before he started his run. He knew he ought to have his own dwelling stocked with food and drink, but it was just as easy to trek up to the main house, just a few hundred yards away, and raid their refrigerator. Besides, he had a feeling that his time here on Villa Serena was limited. As soon as Rafee said his “I dos” Zak had every intention of returning to Europe and to his old life, so why take the time getting settled in here? His father was in the kitchen, sitting at the rectangular wooden table, and looking out of place in his navy pants and long traditional tunic shirt in this rustic setting. Though Villa Serena was grand, it was not ostentatious and its kitchen was purposely decorated to give one the feel of old-world Spain. Zak liked it, but his father, Sheik Laxman, more than likely did not. He was after all, a man of considerable taste and expectations and such a comfortable, relaxed setting did not suit him. “Zaki, you are getting a late start this morning,” Laxman said in their native Arabic. “I know,” Zak answered in the same tongue, though he spoke it so rarely it felt foreign to him at times. “I was up late catching up on company business.” With the tension in the house so thick thanks to his father, Zak had been more focused on company business than ever before. He was actually checking his email daily and returning correspondence promptly though he was supposed to be on vacation. Work was a welcomed distraction, however, and between his wild drives and nights with business he was avoiding family conflict successfully. But now, he was alone with his father and Zak knew exactly where the conversation would turn—to conflict. “I am glad for your recent dedication to the company,” Laxman said. Recent dedication? Zak balked. He had always been dedicated to the company and his work to a certain extent, but no one had ever noticed before because his reputation as a partier always preceded him. Not in the mood to start an argument with his father over the extent of his dedication, Zak merely returned, “Yes, well, there is much to attend to since everyone has been so occupied with thoughts of weddings.” “Weddings,” Laxman snapped. “Let’s not talk of weddings, Zaki. There have indeed been entirely too many of late.” “Too many?” Zak questioned caustically, unable to bite his tongue now that his father had broached the dreaded subject. “Or just one in particular that you are unhappy with?” “You already know the answer to that,” Laxman insisted. “Though I am not thrilled with the rapid succession of weddings between Nikash and Rafee, your cousins’ matters are none of my concern. They are Aarif’s sons, not mine. I am only concerned with Jazmin and her unacceptable choice of husbands.” Zak frowned. Yes, Jazmin’s sudden announcement that she had married Shawna Patrick’s older brother, Detective Joseph Patrick, had indeed been a shock. But it shocked Zak for completely different reasons than it did his father. “Unacceptable, father?” Zak queried. “Is that because he is American or because he is not the heir to the throne of Ajman as Hassan was?” “Hassan was a good match for Jazmin. She had promised herself to him and then suddenly, this American police officer inserts himself into her life with no warning. I thought Jazmin beyond such reproach. But apparently this country has corrupted all my children.” Zak threw his father a devious smile. “I was corrupted long before my first visit to America, father.” It was Laxman’s turn to frown at his son. Leave it to Zak to divert attention away from a serious topic and find humor in such a dire situation! “You, I am convinced, were corrupted at birth,” Laxman declared. “I have no hope of you ever marrying well, or marrying at all for that manner. Jazmin was my only hope for a royal heir.” Zak, for the first time since he could remember, felt the sting of his father’s words. So, his father believed there was no hope for him? Well, maybe Laxman was correct. Maybe there was no hope for Zak of ever doing right by the family. Perhaps he was destined to live out his playboy reputation for the rest of his life. Trying not to allow his emotions to show in his tone, Zak asked flatly, “And what of Anika? She will marry well as soon as her schooling is done.” “Yes, she will marry well,” Laxman agreed. “Devesh is a loyal servant to the royal family, but he is not of royal heritage. I respect the Badawis more than you know, but the marriage I had arranged between Hassan and Jazmin would have been perfect.” “Perfect for whom?” Zak challenged. Laxman’s dark eyes narrowed upon his son’s face. Zak knew the look well. His father was not a man who took lightly to being questioned. And rarely did Zak ever question his father. But lately, something had been changing in Zak. He wasn’t sure what had transformed, but suddenly, the thought of remaining on the outside of the family, pretending to be aloof to its inner workings was unacceptable. He wanted to forge a place in the family food chain and take a more active role in decisions. And that desire for change was starting now as he questioned his father. “Perfect for all,” Laxman said lowly. “Perhaps a hundred years ago, father, in a time that was much different. But Hassan was not what Jazmin wanted,” Zak explained calmly, glad his sister had decided not to go through with the arranged engagement and marriage his father had so wanted with the royal family of Ajman. “No,” Laxman snapped quickly, “she wanted a man not worthy of this family!” “Not worthy? Why is it that Shawna, Detective Patrick’s own sister, is worthy enough to marry Rafee, but her brother is not worthy enough to marry Jazmin?” It was the question both Nikash and Rafee had posed to Laxman that night when the argument had ensued between the entire Armanjani family. That night Zak had held his tongue, but Rafee and Nikash had not. If Sheik Aarif had not been present to calm matters in his very diplomatic way, who knows what would have been said. Who knows what would have been impossible to ever take back. “Rafee is a man who needs a strong partner and Ms. Patrick is certainly that. But Jazmin, she occupies a space in our family that is much different. When your mother died, Jazmin took on those responsibilities as mistress of the family. Her place in society was very visible, very important. It was assumed she would marry well and marry correctly. Then suddenly, this American man claims her and…and I have no power to do anything about it.” “Perhaps that is what your conflict is all about,” Zak surmised. “Perhaps you are not so much angry about Jazmin’s choice of husbands, but about your loss of power over her life.” Zak realized his words would anger his father. And as soon as his last sentence escaped his mouth, he could see the dark rage mounting in his father’s eyes. Quickly, Laxman stood, pointed a finger at Zak and retorted, “You should be the last person to criticize me, Zaki. When was the last time you ever thought seriously about anything other than your next shin-dig with the ladies? And when have I ever tried to control your life? Never! So why would I try and control Jazmin’s?” Zak wanted to retort that his father had been so intent on Jazmin’s life that he and Anika had been able to slip under the radar for years with little interference from their father. Yet he held his tongue for it was obvious his father would take nothing he said seriously. Zak’s opinion did not matter in this family. It never had and it was of his own doing. He had soiled his own reputation. No one had forced him to jet set across Europe and waste his time on fruitless pursuits. He had done that all by himself and was now paying the price. “I guess I was wrong, father,” Zak finally drawled. “Yes, you were very wrong. I think all your late nights on company business are clouding your mind, Zaki,” Laxman insisted. “I suppose they are,” Zak agreed sarcastically. Laxman turned to leave, then paused and said with his back to his son, “Actually, Zaki, since you have been so dedicated lately, I need you to return to Paris for some quick business. There is a meeting tomorrow that must have one of us present. Would you mind going?” Zak frowned furiously. Laxman was a master at manipulating people to serve his own purpose. And since Zak had challenged him and questioned his motives, he was now being sent away for a few days as punishment of sorts. That meeting in Paris more than likely did not need anyone’s immediate attention, but Zak would go because maybe getting back to the city where he spent most of his time would make him feel right again. Since he had come to Villa Serena and started dealing with his sister and his father, since that night with Greta a few weeks ago when he had wanted nothing to do with her, he had felt anything but right and he was convinced he had to do something to correct these strange feelings. “Of course I will go,” Zak answered after only a short pause. “After all, I have nothing better to do.” “I thought that was the case. Do not worry, you will be back in plenty of time for Rafee’s wedding. Besides, maybe a few days back in your old haunt will have you feeling and acting normal again.” “Acting” was the operative word in Laxman’s sentence but Zak pretended not to hear it and moved toward the sliding glass door that led outside. “Perhaps it will,” he agreed and fled through the door. He needed to get out and take in a good long run. It had been a few days since he’d run through the vines and right now, after the conversation he’d just had with his father, tiring himself out until he could no longer stand sounded like a good course of action. ** Maria had no idea how long she sat in the shade near the stream, trying to halt her tears, when a male voice interrupted. She startled quickly when she heard the man question her and her eyes flew to the tall figure standing on the worn path. “Don’t tell me the beast threw you again?” It was Zak who stood on the path only five yards away. Maria forgot her tears for a moment as she stared intently at his figure. He looked different to her, for he was dressed in a plain white T-shirt, baggy cotton gray shorts and Nike running shoes. His black, shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail, giving his face a more open expression instead of the dark, brooding look she’d glimpsed before. Her eyes traveled the length of his legs, sinewy in their musculature. It was obvious he worked-out for his body was lean and corded with fine muscles. They were not the bulky muscles of a weight lifter, but rather the trim muscles of a runner or finely tuned athlete. Her perusal of him took her mind off her sorrow and she was able to halt her tears, something she had been trying to do unsuccessfully for several minutes. “What?” she asked him, when his question reached her and her eyes quit their scan of him. Then she realized what he had asked and how she must look sitting in the dirt and leaves under the trees near the stream and she quickly muttered, “Oh, uh, no he didn’t,” and stood, swatting at the leaves that clung to her backside. Zak said nothing as he stared at her and Maria felt compelled to explain, “I was…uh, just…” Her words trailed off as she realized she had no reason to explain to this man why she was crying and no idea how to even begin to explain her emotions anyhow. “You were just crying,” Zak finished for her. “Everything all right?” It was obvious this woman was distraught. Her soft, brown eyes were rimmed with red and that smooth, olive complexion was streaked with tears. Zak had actually been distracted by finding her in such a state and again he discovered that his usual charms were evading him. Between his morning chat with his father and his discovery of this woman now, he felt completely off kilter and realized his plans to lose himself in a long run were going to be cut short. The woman didn’t answer him immediately and she seemed to be trying to collect herself as she wiped at the tears in her eyes and moved toward her large gray horse, taking its reins in her hands. “Everything is just fine,” she insisted, then turned a cool look his way and inquired, “Don’t tell me you were actually out for a run? I thought you only sped everywhere in your car.” Zak pulled a boyish grin and admitted, “I speed both in my car and on foot. I don’t do anything half way.” His admission did not surprise her and Maria, though attracted to his masculinity, thought it best to distance herself from him. He was arrogant and charming and he more than likely went after everything in his path with full force. Like he had just said, he did nothing half way. Turning toward Samson, Maria was going to attempt to mount and ride off when she realized there was no place to stand so she could climb upon Samson’s back. He was a large horse at seventeen hands, and with the English saddle Maria rode him in, it was impossible to mount him from the ground. If she possessed the skill to jump up to his back, she surely would have, just so she could quickly escape Zak’s company. But she lacked the jumping ability to mount Samson and there were no tree stumps or embankments that could assist her so her escape was put on hold. Keeping her back to Zak, Maria said, “I don’t suppose you would do anything half way. At least, that’s what I’ve observed so far.” “Observed?” he questioned and he felt his easy, charismatic ways returning as he spoke to her. Now that it was obvious she was the one off kilter by the way she was acting, Zak felt more in control. “Does that mean you’ve been watching me?” “Heavens no!” Maria denied quickly. “It simply means that in the few occasions I’ve crossed your path, you have certainly made your impression upon me. And I don’t mean that it’s been a delightful impression.” “I’ll give you that, since I was not myself the day we first met,” he agreed, thinking back on that near collision and his foul mood that day. Then his eyes traveled the course of her curvaceous body as she stood next to her horse in a white shirt and form fitting tan riding breeches and Zak added, “But once you get to know me, you’ll realize your first impression was very inaccurate.” “Get to know you?” Maria asked back, aghast at his suggestion. She tugged on Samson’s reins and began to walk down the dirt path. “Sorry, but I’ve already known your type and its nothing I’d like to repeat again.” Walking after her, Zak argued, “My type? Darling, I’m afraid you’ve never met my type before.” “All right. Then I don’t care to meet your type,” she corrected and tugged again on Samson’s reins. The horse was lagging behind and she just wanted to get back home and escape both her memories and this man. Maria thought about that. Was she really trying to escape Zak, or just the fact that she’d been crying over her ex-husband and her life? Wasn’t that what she really wanted to escape from? “And why not?” he challenged. Her tears were long gone by now, but Maria felt frustration replacing them. Sighing out loud, she pulled Samson closer and demanded, “Look, just give me a boost on my horse so I can leave.” Zak stared at the woman’s face for a moment and saw that the raw emotions present were not of his doing. He’d been taunting her purposely and flirting just to try her out, just to assure himself that he had not lost all his charisma when it came to dealing with this woman. But his mild taunts had not put the frustration there. Whatever she had been crying over when he’d found her was still in the front of her mind and that, not him, was now causing her mood. “Sorry,” Zak declined. “I can’t do that.” “And why not? I don’t weigh that much,” Maria returned. Zak chuckled for a moment and pointed to the horse’s left front foot. “Your horse has a shoe loose. I don’t think it would be wise for you to ride him.” Quickly, Maria squatted next to Samson and studied his hoof. No wonder he’d been lagging behind so slowly. She stood with a groan and muttered, “Hell.” Then, much to her chagrin, those pesky tears that she had cried earlier threatened to return and she wiped hastily at her eyes. Zak reached out and a long, masculine finger wiped at one of the tears on Maria’s cheek. Her skin was smooth, just as he’d suspected. “You’re crying again,” Zak pointed out with a light tone. “No, I’m not,” Maria childishly returned as she turned her head away from his touch. Just that slight swipe by his finger upon her face caused a tingle all the way down to her toes and after all the negative morning thoughts about her ex-husband, the last thing she wanted was to feel anything for another man. Especially for a man who was as self-centered as her ex had been. “Okay, you’re not,” he returned, placating her. “Just stop it and leave me alone,” Maria demanded, both sorrow and frustration now ruling her emotions. Instead of leaving as she’d requested, Zak suggested, “How about I walk you back to Villa Serena’s stables and call out a farrier for you?” “I’d rather go to Canterbury.” “That’s at least two, three miles from here. Villa Serena’s stables are but a half-mile. It would be better for the horse to follow me,” Zak reasoned and began walking down the path toward Villa Serena. Maria, much to her own chagrin, followed for it was the most reasonable course of action and she had already looked foolish twice by crying in front of Zak and wasn’t about to look even more unreasonable by refusing the sensible offer. ** “Natasha,” Zak was saying with his smooth voice as he walked around the small cottage house, “you can’t deny me.” Maria opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, so persuasive, and looked at her surroundings. It took a long moment to figure out that she was at Villa Serena’s small stable house and it required a moment longer to realize she had fallen asleep there. “No, no. I understand it was a last minute shoot,” Zak was saying. “And this meeting of mine is completely last minute too.” Maria saw his figure pass by the couch. His hair was down, slightly damp and curling about his neck in wonderful waves. He wore black slacks and a gray long-sleeved shirt that he had yet to button. Secretly, Maria was glad to catch a glimpse of his smooth, muscled chest and tightly packed abdomen as he spoke on the phone completely unaware of her consciousness for the sight was quite remarkable. And it had been so very long since she’d seen anything like it this up-close and personal. “I suppose I will have to find myself another escort then,” he returned good-naturedly. “But be sure I will call you next time I’m in Paris and in need of company.” He switched off the cordless phone and stood for a moment as if thinking. Then he turned around and his eyes landed upon Maria as she pushed to a seated position. “You’re awake,” he announced with a light tone. “How was your nap?” Maria took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her long hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take a nap on your couch,” she said. “It’s no trouble. You obviously needed it,” he drawled. Then he gestured toward the horse barn that was located just a hundred yards down a small rise from the cottage. “Your horse is ready. It only took the farrier a moment to fix his shoe.” Maria paused as she replayed the scenes from the morning in her mind. She had ridden with Tara and Shawna then cried by the stream on her way home over the misfortunes of her life. That’s when she had run across Zak and tried to escape him only to be thwarted by another bout of tears and a loose horseshoe. She’d followed him back to the stables, left Samson in the barn and then gone with him to the stable house that he said he had commandeered for the duration of his stay on Villa Serena to call out a farrier. While she’d awaited the farrier’s arrival, she’d sat down on the couch and…and fallen asleep! How completely embarrassing! “Thank you for taking care of that for me.” Maria was about to stand when she noticed her riding boots were missing. She glanced around as Zak said, “They’re by the door. I figured you’d be more comfortable without them on.” When she glanced at him with disbelief, he added, “That’s all I took off. I swear.” Not sure how to respond to that for her skills at flirting were seriously lacking, Maria nodded toward the phone in his hand and asked, “Are you going out of town? I’m sorry, I overheard part of your conversation.” “Yes, I am. Paris,” he explained. “In fact, I was just trying to find myself an escort for a business dinner I have. A beautiful woman always tends to unseat our business guests and put them in a much more agreeable mood.” He paused then asked, “Would you care to volunteer?” With sarcasm, Maria answered, “Sure, just let me run home and get my passport.” She watched as Zak visibly hesitated. “You’re joking, right?” “Of course I’m joking. You actually thought I would accept? You don’t even know my name. Why on earth would I fly overseas with you?” Maria snapped. “Because I make wonderful company,” he returned. “And I do realize I have failed to inquire as to who you are.” He moved forward and held out his hand. “I am Prince Zaki Armanjani. Cousin to Sheiks Nikash and Rafee whom I am sure you already know of.” It was Maria’s turn to hesitate. The man may be arrogant, but now he was displaying his perfect manners. His royal title and outstretched hand caught her off guard and she found herself accepting his hand, though she already knew who he was, and saying, “I’m Maria Sandoval.” Zak bent his head and touched his lips to the back of her hand. Maria was dumbstruck for she could not recall the last time a man had ever done that. Her hand warmed from the soft touch of his lips and she fought the sudden and strange urge to reach out and run her fingers across his cheek in return. Instead, she stood and found herself staring up into his passionate, dark eyes. “Well, its, uh, nice to meet you. Officially, that is. But I really must be leaving,” she said with a shaky voice. Zak refused to let go of her hand. He had liked the feel of her skin against his lips and he suddenly wanted to successfully lure her to Paris. He may be able to enjoy his punishment if she were to accompany him. In a way, he was grateful that none of his usual escorts were available for he was still thinking that high society lifestyle might somehow be shallow. And this woman, though she was from the large estate next door, suddenly did not strike him as typical of an heiress like the ones he knew. “Leaving? To fetch your passport of course?” he inquired with a gleam in his eye. “Because I was serious about the offer to fly to Paris.” Maria let a laugh fly as she pictured herself running off to Paris at a moment’s notice with a man she had spoken with only three times prior. Such an act was nothing she had done. No, she had always been predictable and respectable. Zak was neither and she doubted he would really be interested in a woman like her who lived so far outside any fast-paced social circle. “Why are you laughing?” he questioned while he continued to hold her hand hostage in his. “I’m laughing because I’m positive you could find more suitable company for your…needs,” she replied carefully, though careful was difficult when he smelled wonderfully of water and soap and something purely…masculine…something she could get lost in forever and drunk off of just from inhaling his nearness. “I have tried, but all my usual company seems to be busy. Natasha was my last shot, and unfortunately, she has to fly to Milan for a photo-shoot.” He tossed the cordless phone that was in his other hand to the couch as if giving up on finding any other escorts for his purpose. “So you figured someone like me would make do if necessary?” Maria questioned with amusement at his frankness about the company he kept. “If you mean someone beautiful and intelligent and of good breading, then, yes.” Maria laughed again and politely pulled her hand from his, though severing the connection to him left her wanting more. Taking a step around him, for it was difficult to deny the man when he was looking and smelling so good in front of her, she moved toward the front door. “You’ve really got me all wrong, Zak. I’m sorry, but my life doesn’t permit me to go jet setting off to Europe at a moment’s notice. I have responsibilities. Lots of responsibilities. And I’m positive you can scrounge up some sort of company for your tryst to Paris.” Maria began slipping into her riding boots that sat by the front door when Zak rounded the blue sofa and stood in front of her, his arms folded over that exposed chest of his. Zak stared down at Maria as she slipped into her boots. It was becoming quite obvious to him that she was a conservative, reserved woman. She definitely was not like the usual women he dated. No, they were taller and thinner and usually lacking in any form of conservativism. Yet Maria had womanly curves, a beautiful face with character and a substance to her that Zak was growing more attracted to by the second. As he watched Maria get ready to leave, he suddenly wondered why he had taken the time to call someone like Natasha at all when he was positive he could no longer stand her kind of shallow company for longer than two seconds. “It is not a tryst,” he defended. “I’m serving penance.” Maria halted her work for his choice of words was interesting. “Penance?” she asked. “For what?” “For being incorrigible. My father seems to think a business meeting in Paris will do me some good.” “What did you do? Crash his sports car?” she questioned with humor. “No,” he answered but did not elaborate. Maria stared at him for a long moment, wondering why he would divulge no more when it was obvious he was not a man frightened of speaking whatever was on his mind. Yet he let his answer stand and Maria looked away and slipped into her last boot. “Well, sorry you’re being sentenced to a meeting in Paris, but I really have to get home,” she straightened and found his dark eyes studying her intently and just his look made her a bit nervous, a bit hesitant about her decision to leave. “So you cannot be persuaded at all to join me?” he asked seriously. “I have a flat in Paris. We’ll fly first class. Eat at the best restaurants.” “No,” Maria stated, firmly. “Have you ever been to France?” “No,” Maria repeated, though she wished she had had the opportunity to visit there. Having gotten married so young, however, had drowned many of her plans and traveling through Europe had been one of those plans, though she had been fortunate enough to see something of Japan during one of Roger’s tours. Zak smiled at her and she enjoyed the way his dark goatee and moustache framed his perfect mouth with the expression. “Ah, then you must come. I will show you all the sites,” he insisted. Again, Maria was tempted, but knew the thought was absurd. Completely and totally absurd! Zak was certain she was thinking about the offer now for he could see the light working in her soft brown eyes. “No strings attached,” he added, knowing that a conservative woman like her would never run off with a man she barely knew if there was pressure for more than just companionship at a business dinner. “I have two bedrooms in my flat.” Maria chastised herself quietly for even thinking about his offer and shook her head with finality. “I really, really can’t,” she finally answered. “But you were tempted?” Zak asked with a wicked smile that could make even a nun cave. Maria shrugged and turned for the door, reminding herself that she had found the fortitude of ten nuns since her divorce. “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding suitable company in Paris once you arrive. Thanks again for taking care of Samson. Good-bye.” Maria waved to him over her shoulder and then jogged down to the stables. Zak stood in the doorway of the small house he was rooming in with Omar, the head security guard, and stared after Maria. She moved with grace and athleticism and Zak was certain that he would call no one else once he arrived in Paris. Maria would be on his mind and he wasn’t entirely sure why her…why now. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Playboy - Chapter 3 |