low sofa in front of her.
He was so handsome, with those cut cheekbones and tight muscles, that she wanted to swoon onto the sofa like a lady in an old movie. Keep it together.
“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.” She met his eyes. “You weren’t honest with me in the garden. You—you let me believe you weren’t anyone of major significance. I told you all about my problems.” A pinprick of fear burrowed into the back of her neck. Her adrenaline was fading. Reality was setting in.
“Let me begin again.” He dropped his arms and lifted his chin a fraction of an inch, and it took her breath away again. This man was going to become a king. “I’m Sheikh Zayid Hasan, crown prince of Raihan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He came to her and lifted her hand easily in his and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “And I’d like to remind you that I never uttered a lie. You believed only what you wanted to believe.”
“Laila Tindall,” she said, an electric pleasure moving through her at his touch. She pulled her hand away. “But you stood there while I gave you...intimate details of my life. That man might be waiting outside the door right now.”
“Sit down, Ms. Tindall.”
“Oh, if you’re going to kiss my hand, call me Laila.” Her heart refused to settle down. “But I prefer to receive bad news standing up.” She planted herself in front of the sofa. “Go ahead, Prince Zayid. Say it.”
Fear glistened in her eyes, which Zayid could now see were a startling shade of green—but there was ferocity, too. He should have expected that. She’d walked alone across the foothills at night and come in through an open gate. Laila Tindall clearly wasn’t a pushover.
“Stand, then.” His own pulse throbbed at the corner of his neck. Zayid almost felt that he was the one being chased in the dark. “I’ve come up with a plan that will help us both.”
She opened her mouth as if she was ready to argue but cocked her head to the side. “Help us both?”
“The party to find a bride for the crown prince”—He gestured to himself—“is because we in the royal family have a predicament of our own. My younger brother Yaseen’s situation has put us in some upheaval. He needs to marry the woman who is pregnant with his child, but because of the ancient laws in Raihan, he can’t marry until I do.”
Laila’s eyes went wide. “So you’re just going to get married? Like that?”
“To preserve the family’s honor, yes.” His heart beat harder, thinking of it. He was not going to let scandal come to the palace because he couldn’t find a bride—not now, and not ever. “Another ancient law is on our side. It gives the royal family authority to choose any bride, even one outside other royal bloodlines. Or already contracted to marry.”
Laila looked hard at him, her eyes narrowed. He could fall into those green eyes and keep falling forever. If he let himself. Which he wouldn’t. “What are you saying?”
“It’s simple. I propose that we marry each other, for a set period of time. Once my brother is married, we can go our separate ways. It solves all our problems. And, of course, I will pay whatever bride price Harb offered for your hand and make sure your grandfather is provided for.”
Laila sat down heavily on the sofa and looked up at him, green eyes huge, lashes full. The angle hooked him in the ribs and yanked his soul toward her.
“What...what would be the period of time?”
Zayid sat in the closest armchair so he wouldn’t have to look down at her. “Twelve weeks. Another ancient law...” She bit her lip. “I know. Another ancient law says that twelve weeks must elapse between royal weddings. My ancestors appear to have been obsessed with weddings.”
Hope flared in her eyes, making them seem brighter in the soft lamplight. “Why are you doing this? You could have your pick of any woman in the country. Someone from your world.”
He rubbed his hands over his face, plunging himself into darkness for a split second. Laila was still watching him when he resurfaced. She looked almost delicate, sitting on the antique sofa.
“All the women at the ball...all the women who have ever approached me about this...they’re hoping for something real. They’re hoping they can convince me to fall in love with them, and they’ll have their very own fairytale. Or