The Defiant Princess Read online

  The Defiant Princess

  Alyssa J. Montgomery

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  The Defiant Princess

  Alyssa J. Montgomery

  When faced with the choice between the life she’s built and the duty she’s left behind—what’s a reluctant princess to do?

  Sabrina has never known Rhajia, the land of her birth. Living in Australia since she was a child, she’s built a life here, claimed a life outside of the politics and history of the conflicted desert region of her birth. But now her life is in danger, and there may be only one solution: a temporary marriage to Khalid, the Crown Price of Turastan.

  Temporary, logical, political and in name only, the marriage could save both of their countries—and Sabrina. Emotions can have no place in this plan, especially for the dark, dangerous and seductive Crown Prince.

  Khalid has already chosen a woman to become his wife—a woman who understands her duties, his history and the rules for a good consort. He will marry her, just as soon as he’s sorted out the Sabrina situation for his father and returned the defiant princess to her home country. He has no intention of falling in line with her ridiculous plan. After all, Sabrina may be beautiful, but she’s headstrong and completely out of touch with her history. And absolutely the last woman he would ever want to marry…

  About the Author

  Alyssa is a happily married mother of three very busy children and being a parent takes first priority in her life. Apart from that, she is a speech-language pathologist working in her own private practice and writes every spare second she can find. She’s also been a professional pianist and an international flight attendant, and still loves travelling to holiday in as many far-flung places as possible with her family.

  Acknowledgements

  As always thanks go to my very supportive husband and family. Thanks also to my critique partners Enisa, Cassie and Marilyn, my wonderful editor, Gabby Maait, and the entire team at Escape Publishing.

  I am fortunate to have many different groups of wonderful friends. This book is dedicated to those non-writing friends who have supported my writing dream and been so excited with me. They were at my first book launch and attended the ARRA Awards dinner when my debut novel was nominated for an award. Thanks Thusi, Kim, Lily and Teresa for being so enthusiastic about my writing journey!

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Chapter One

  His Royal Highness Prince Khalid Ul-Haq of Turastan shut off his cell phone with an irritated flick of his fingers and strode through the magnificent marbled hallways of the palace. Blood pumped heatedly through his veins. Finally home after ten days away in Washington on what had turned out to be a trumped-up diplomatic mission, he was determined to discover why his father had sent him to the United States.

  The whole trip had been an insult to his capabilities—a useless farce Khalid felt sure his elder brother Hazim would never have been expected to undertake had he still been alive.

  The Turastani ambassador’s attendance at the U.S. government functions would have been sufficient. Yet at his father’s insistence, Crown Prince Khalid had endured an incessant round of vacuous embassy engagements. Days packed with needless meetings and evenings spent trying to dodge cocktail chat with every social climber in Washington, when all he’d wanted to do was return to Turastan and settle his future.

  It wasn’t the first time the king had requested this sort of empty representation from him. When Hazim had been alive, Khalid had represented Turastan at glittering social events in order to leave Hazim free to attend the heavyweight political negotiations.

  A wave of pain washed over Khalid as he thought about his brother. Although they’d been very different characters, they had been close. Hazim’s death six months ago had been a crippling personal blow and the anguish of loss still hovered close to the surface. On top of coping with the emotional void, Khalid had needed to adjust to the shift in his political importance. Overnight, he’d gone from being the ‘spare’ to the ‘heir’ which had necessitated immediate and dramatic changes in his lifestyle. Plagued by guilt at Hazim’s death, the new Crown Prince had taken up his brother’s duties and responsibilities with single-minded determination. He thought his father had been pleased with his actions but the trip to Washington made Khalid wonder whether the king realised his second-born son was capable of assuming the role that had been thrust upon him.

  Something was amiss and Khalid wanted answers. Now.

  The guards outside the king’s personal office barely had time to bow as Khalid’s stride communicated his impatience. They stood aside and opened the ornately carved doors as quickly as humanly possible.

  King Hassan stood up from behind his huge mahogany desk. “My son, it’s good to see you.”

  “Father.” Khalid made the mandatory bow with stiff formality as the heavy doors swung shut behind him. He could not hide his displeasure. “Why was I sent to the States?” he asked through tight lips.

  “Your trip was politically important for our country.” The king’s tone was reasonable, yet he looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he motioned for his son to sit down.

  Khalid stood his ground. “I did nothing more than represent Turastan socially when Hazim was alive. Since his death I’ve changed my lifestyle. I thought you understood that.”

  “Khalid—”

  “This latest trip was a complete waste of time when I should be here, showing our people that I’m worthy of being their future ruler.”

  “I have never been in any doubt that you would be a worthy ruler, my son. And the people will see that in time.” A deep shadow of pain set into the king’s features and his shoulders slumped. “It was a grave mistake not to have given you experience in political negotiations while your brother was alive. I did not foresee the tragedy that would occur, yet I should have allowed for such a remote possibility.” He looked older than Khalid had ever seen him.

  “Hazim and I had different roles at the time. I understood that.”

  King Hassan shook his head sadly. “You’ve always had just as much capability as Hazim. Unfortunately, the lack of responsibility placed upon you enabled you to lead a lifestyle that the paparazzi have seized upon. Now you have to work to correct the reputation you’ve gained in the tabloids. We both know you’re a man of much greater substance than your tabloid reputation leads people to believe. Don’t doubt my belief in you, Khalid.”

  The playboy, polo-playing Prince of Turastan was the label he’d been assigned by the international paparazzi. In the world’s eyes that was all he was. His only serious interest had been playing polo. On the field he’d achieved the status of being one of the world’s most acclaimed players. Off the field, boredom had led to a string of affairs with beautiful women.

  Now that lifestyle was over.

  His heart would be forever burdened because he knew he was to blame for his brother’s death. Khalid should have been in the aircraft when it went down—not Hazim and his pregnant wife, Barika. Instead of winging his way to Paris to a Red Cross fundraiser, Khalid had begged his brother to take his place so he could be in Argentina to play in the polo match of the season.

  Guilt ate at his heart.

  He wouldn’t let Hazim down again. He would rule Turastan well when
the time came.

  “I don’t understand why you sent me on this wild-goose chase. You knew I wanted to speak with you before I left, yet you made no time for me.” Khalid’s voice was strained.

  “I needed you to be elsewhere. There were things that needed investigating before I met with you,” the older man confessed with a barely perceptible nod of his head.

  The admission—along with the troubled light in his father’s eyes—disconcerted Khalid.

  “You wanted me out of our country? Why?”

  King Hassan shifted on his feet. “When you made a formal request to speak with me, I suspected you wished to discuss your future, possibly your marriage. I needed to delay our conversation.”

  Khalid regarded his father with a growing sense of apprehension. “I don’t understand. You’ve been telling me for the last six months that I must marry now that I’m the Crown Prince.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind regarding the importance of you marrying.”

  Then it was time.

  Khalid cleared his throat. The next topic of discussion would seal his future. Even after much deliberation it wasn’t an easy subject to broach. He knew he must do his duty, marry and produce an heir. His most recent lover, Inaya, possessed all the qualities essential for a future Queen of Turastan.

  “Father …” The declaration seemed to stick in his throat. “I wish to—”

  The king held up a hand to silence his son, but did not meet his eyes as he interrupted and entreated, “Please sit down, Khalid. There is much I need to tell you.”

  The weary note in his father’s voice made Khalid move to an empty chair. The king looked exhausted. Indeed, the older man looked relieved as Khalid sat, for he too could sit. He looked stiff as he sank into the chair behind his desk.

  King Hassan picked up a pen and tapped it a couple of times on the desk surface before putting it down again. Focusing on the pen, he said, “Important matters have come to light in the last two weeks. These matters take the decision of any future marriage you may have been planning out of your hands.”

  Tension had Khalid sitting forward on the edge of the seat. How could the decision of his future be taken out of his hands? He’d made his decision. Inaya would share his future.

  “Enlighten me.” Every instinct told him he wasn’t going to like his father’s response.

  “Mustaf threatens to dam up the river and cut off our largest source of water.”

  At the mention of Mustaf, the merciless ruler of Rhajia, Khalid felt his lips curl with contempt. “What are his demands?”

  “My consent to marriage between your sister, Lalita, and his son Hamil.”

  “No!” Outrage churned in his gut. It was unthinkable. It was rumoured Hamil sadistically tortured those who dared speak out against Mustaf’s rule. “You could never agree.”

  “Once, I would have welcomed a union with our bordering nation through marriage.”

  “But that was when King Akram was the ruler and we were close allies. To be linked to Rhajia now while Mustaf rules would besmirch our own reputation both with the Arab Council and the rest of the world.”

  “Mustaf has already discussed his proposal with council delegates.” The king buried his head in his hands for a moment before he continued. “The Arab Council supports the marriage.”

  “That’s outrageous!” Khalid stood as his blood heated in fury. His sister would not be used as a political pawn while he had breath in his body.

  “They see this as a way of stopping the skirmishes which are continuing to erupt on our borders with Rhajia,” Hassan explained.

  “Skirmishes which have only begun since Mustaf claimed power!” Khalid could not stand still. Restless frustration simmered, causing him to pace to the window.

  “It’s deeply distressing that we’re constantly squabbling with a country which was once our closest ally.” The king’s voice broke, revealing his anguish. “The Council grows increasingly concerned … as do I.”

  “The Council’s only concerned with the oil supplies in Rhajia and having Mustaf comply with the drilling quota agreements,” Khalid condemned fiercely, his fists clenching. “That’s the reason they wish to keep Mustaf on side.”

  The king swivelled his chair so he could face his son. “Of course. Everything is political. Everything is about wealth. Still, they’re bringing heavy pressure to bear. A Council delegation arrived at our palace this morning demanding an audience. I’m certain they will be pressing for my approval to set a date for the wedding.”

  “Lalita cannot be used as a sacrificial lamb,” he declared as he moved to face his father from across the great expanse of mahogany. “I won’t allow her to marry Hamil!”

  “I’m in complete agreement with you.”

  “Damn Mustaf to hell!” Khalid cursed.

  King Hassan picked up a paperweight from his desk and turned it around in his fingers. “Ours is a wealthy kingdom, Khalid. I’m ageing and you’re unmarried. Should anything happen to you …”

  “Lalita would inherit the throne,” Khalid finished. He raised one hand to his forehead. “Mustaf hasn’t been able to win the wars on our border. He wants control of Turastan through marriage into our family. Now with Hazim’s death, he views us as more vulnerable.”

  Mustaf’s thirst for power knew no limits.

  “This issue has been a cause of great concern for me. Mustaf threatens our country’s water supply, your sister’s happiness, and our safety. Should Hamil marry Lalita he would have unlimited access to our palace. Lalita is second in line to the throne now. Should anything happen to you and I, she would be queen. Hamil has the same nature as his father. He would dominate Lalita and rule our nation. Lalita would become nothing more than his puppet.”

  The king was right. Lalita was far too gentle in her nature to stand up to a bastard like Hamil. Somehow, they must find a way to stop Mustaf and his son.

  “You think this is part of a far-reaching, elaborate plot,” Khalid said. It might sound fanciful to an outsider but to anyone who knew Mustaf and his son, it rang true.

  “We must consider all the angles,” his father said. “You know I believe Mustaf capable of murder. If he could attack you and I from within our own palace and his son assumed power, our people would doubtless face the same hardships that the Rhajians now endure.”

  “We can’t give into his demands, yet if he carries out his threat to block our water supply this will mean a full-scale war between our countries.”

  The king replaced the paperweight on the desk. There was a considerable pause before he responded. “You recall Hazim was betrothed to Akram’s daughter?”

  Khalid did. The betrothal between the Crown Prince of Turastan and the Crown Princess of Rhajia had been arranged by their fathers at the princess’ birth, as Hassan and Akram had been as close as brothers.

  “Of course. Princess Sabihah Faraq.” Khalid shrugged. “She disappeared when she was eight years old.”

  “The daughter of my dearest friend,” the king inserted on a heavy sigh.

  Khalid remembered the vivacious child who’d inherited the blonde hair and blue eyes of her Swedish mother. He’d met her briefly in his early teens.

  “Her death was a tragedy, but I don’t understand why you speak of it now.”

  Holding his son’s gaze, the king stated quietly, “Her body was never found.”

  Khalid ignored his growing impatience and willed himself to sit back down. They should be discussing how to thwart Mustaf’s plans, not dredging up the past. “That’s hardly surprising. I was told she and her parents were visiting a Bedouin camp and she wandered away just before a severe sandstorm hit. There would have been little hope of recovering her body in the desert. Why do you bring this up now?”

  His father’s features were hard. “Her disappearance was staged.”

  “What?” Khalid’s head jerked back a little as he stared at his father.

  “The whole royal family was in danger. Akram had heard whispers tha
t Mustaf was making plans to seize the throne. Although he had no conclusive evidence, he took steps to protect his daughter. Thank God he did. A week after Sabihah’s disappearance, her parents were assassinated.”

  Kahlid knew that. “What happened to the princess?”

  The ruler of Turastan focused on his aged fingers steepled on the polished surface of the desk. “Akram was a wonderful man. A wise leader who brokered stability and peace in our region. But, as you know, his brother was always vastly different. Mustaf was a military commander who thrived on conflict. He didn’t approve of the peace plans or of the alliances formed.”

  “I know all this,” Khalid cut through his father’s reminiscing, needing him to get to the point. “I know everyone suspects Mustaf was behind the assassination of his brother. Tell me what happened to the princess.”

  “She was taken away—hidden for her own safety.”

  Khalid stood and glared at his father. “Have you known this all along?”

  His father nodded. “I was one of the few people who knew of the plan.”

  “And you’ve never thought to mention it before now?” Khalid spoke through teeth clamped tight with barely restrained anger.

  “The fewer people who knew, the better,” King Hassan said without apology.

  “Did Hazim know?”

  “No,” the king denied immediately. “Sabihah had to be protected from Mustaf. It was safer for her this way.”

  Although he was furious at having been denied the information, Khalid saw the truth of his father’s words. An individual capable of killing his brother to attain the ultimate power he craved would not hesitate to search for and kill a child. For a moment, he gripped the edge of the desk as the enormous ramifications of the king’s announcement hit home.

  Princess Sabihah was the rightful heir to the Rhajian throne.

  “Where the hell is she?”

  “Safe.”

  “Why do you allow Mustaf to rule when Sabihah should be crowned as Queen?”