Their Virgin Princess(4)

She saw far too much of Lan. And far too little. “He’s my bodyguard. I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

“You don’t owe him an apology,” Landon ground out.

“Stay out of this.” She couldn’t handle him getting involved in her personal life. She could barely handle him being her constant watchman. She turned back to Oliver. “I am sorry. It’s been hard to get back into the real world.”

Oliver was everything that Landon wasn’t. He was perfectly charming as he stared at her with a pitying little frown. “Of course it is, darling. I apologize. It’s terribly selfish of me. It’s simply that Yasmin and I have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

They hadn’t missed her enough to put off their wedding while she’d been kidnapped. She guessed she couldn’t really blame them. She’d been gone for months. They’d assumed she’d been killed, her body buried somewhere in an unmarked grave. Yasmin hadn’t had any idea that she’d been found until months after the fact. Yas still didn’t know about all the rehab she’d had to go through. The last thing Alea wanted the world to know about was her drug addiction.

She wondered if Landon knew, if one of the reasons he, Dane, and Coop were so zealous in their guardianship was that they had been tasked to ensure she didn’t hit the streets looking for a fix.

“I think you should come home with us in a few weeks. We’re going to spend the winter at the country estate. I know my brothers would love to see you again.”

Oliver’s brothers were outrageous flirts. She didn’t need that. But it did point out a problem. Lately, she been thinking that she couldn’t stay in Bezakistan, aimless and lonely, for the rest of her life. She hadn’t really left the palace. Instead, she’d been hiding here, taking classes online. Sure, she could get a degree that way, but what would happen when she graduated?

The door opened again. Yasmin glided through the door. She looked gorgeous in her designer gown, her pale hair in a perfect upswept do. “Oliver? Oh, you’re out here with Alea. I thought you had gone back to your room, dear.”

Yasmin utterly ignored Landon, moving around him like he was just a piece of furniture. Her perfectly manicured hands reached for Alea’s.

“Hello, Yas.”

Yasmin had been her childhood playmate. Their fathers had both been connected to the Bezakistani royal line maternally. Alea’s parents had drowned when she was very young, so her aunt and uncle, the sheikh and shaykhah, had taken her in, given her the al Mussad name, and raised her at the palace. But Alea had always looked forward to the weeks when Yasmin would visit. It had been the only time she’d had another female playmate.

Yasmin hugged her briefly. “Alea, it’s so nice to see you. I tried calling for ages, but no one would put me through. I rather thought you were ducking my calls, dear.”

Alea groaned inwardly. Yasmin seemed to know how to make her feel guilty, even when she didn’t mean to. “Sorry. I really haven’t felt up to socializing.”

“Talib has allowed you to hide away for far too long. You’re never going to feel better if you don’t get back to normal.” Yasmin frowned, her perfect face forming a mask of disapproval.

“Yas, let it be. We talked about this.” Oliver reached for his wife’s hand.

“I know, but seeing her has made me more certain than ever that she can’t recover by languishing here. She hasn’t truly smiled once. And what is Tal thinking putting those guards on her?”

“They’re here for my protection.” Despite her own problems with the guys, she felt an urge to defend them.

“You don’t need a constant shadow reminding you of danger, Lea. Come to England with us. You can enroll at university and take up your schooling again. Or you can work with me at the foundation.”

Ah, yes. Reaching Across Cultures. One of the surprises she’d been faced with when she’d been rescued was the fact that Yasmin had taken over the European offices of this al Mussad charity, a job that had been earmarked for Alea.

But it wasn’t like she could do the job now, endure all those glittering fundraisers and public speaking engagements. How would that work when she could barely manage to leave the palace?

“I just mentioned that myself,” Oliver said with a long sigh. “I thought we were going to do this with a little subtlety. I’m sorry about the hard sell, love. I’m afraid Yasmin has done nothing but plot and plan to take you back with us.”

Yasmin pouted prettily. “I miss my cousin. I was beside myself when we thought you were gone forever. It was like losing my sister.” She sniffled a little, a tear sliding down her face. “Lea, I miss you. Please think about coming back with us. I want you to be there when—”

“You weren’t going to tell her that, either,” Oliver muttered under his breath.

“I can’t keep it from her. She’s my closest relative. Oh, Lea. You weren’t there when we got married. You have to be there when I have my first baby. Please say you’ll come.”

Yasmin was pregnant? Silly, superficial Yasmin was married and now having a child. A little kernel of jealousy weighed in her gut. Yas had been the prankster when they were young. She’d nearly dropped out of school. She hadn’t even thought of going to university. So how was Yas the one with a husband and a career that should have been Alea’s, and a baby on the way?

She struggled to find something to say. She looked down at Yasmin, who was perfectly slender in her Marchesa gown. “You don’t look pregnant.”

Yasmin’s smile lit up the night. She ran a hand down her flat stomach. “I assure you I am. I’m almost three months along. You have to come. It will be just like our childhoods when we spent summers together. And you can start over in England. The palace is too insular. You need to be out in the world.”

Yasmin waxed on and on about all the things they could do in London. They would shop, go to the theater, hang out with Oliver’s brothers. One was a very famous football player, and Yas was convinced that Alea should go on a date with him.