Seducing His Princess (Married by Royal Decree 3)

Then it was Najeeb’s turn.

He watched them approach each other with all the trepidation of someone watching a collision, one that would pulverize him. The hesitation of the long absence and the uncertainty of the other’s reception evaporated with every step until they met halfway. Then she reached out both hands to him and he clasped them in his with just as much eagerness. But it was the tenderness on both their faces as their tentative smiles blossomed that had jealousy surging through him like a geyser. He felt that if he opened his mouth right now, he’d scorch the whole room.

He had no idea what he said to Jala’s family as they gathered around to congratulate him. All he could see was Najeeb’s head bent close to Jala’s, making his blood boil.

“Take it easy, Mohab, or the guy might drop dead.”

That was Shehab. Mohab curbed an imprecation as he tore his gaze away from Najeeb to look at Shehab. The man’s black eyes were dancing with mischief, having evidently documented Mohab’s reaction to Najeeb and Jala’s reunion.

Another surge of savagery coursed in his blood. “Right now, I’m not sure that would be a bad thing.”

Shehab chuckled, looking very pleased with Mohab’s response. “If Najeeb drops dead, Jawad won’t be far behind. He’d jump out of his fighter jet without a parachute if he found himself the crown prince of Saraya. Only Najeeb, in his endless wisdom and stamina, can deal with your uncle.”

Mohab almost bared his teeth at Shehab. Hearing about Najeeb’s endless wisdom—and stamina—was more fuel to his fire.

“And don’t be too hard on Najeeb. It’s only expected that any man would turn into a slobbering fool around Jala.”

Mohab forced a smile to his taut face. “You trying to make me go rearrange my little cousin’s face, and spend the rest of my engagement night in your little brother’s dungeon?”

Shehab guffawed this time, definitely delighted with Mohab’s vehemence, which he no doubt considered revealed the depth of his involvement with his sister. “Wouldn’t that be a far more memorable engagement night than this inane dinner you and your fiancée imposed on us?”

Farah, Shehab’s wife, turned to her husband, emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What am I missing?”

Shehab scooped her to his side, his smile so bedeviling Mohab considered manually wiping it off his face. “Mohab here is so head over heels with Jala, he’s having a male aggression crisis just watching her greet an old friend.”

Farah waved her hand dismissingly. “Najeeb is a really old friend.” Then she started recounting the story of Jala’s and Najeeb’s friendship.

Mohab suffered all he could before interjecting, “I already know all that. I was there the first time they met.” When she looked confused, he explained further. “I was the one who led the extraction team and ended the hostage crisis.”

Delight surged on Farah’s face. “Oh, you’re her knight in black-ops armor! How unbelievably romantic that after saving her life all these years ago, you’d reenter it as her prince charming!”

“That even tops the way we met, ya rohi.” Shehab gazed down at her with such indulgence, Mohab made a mental note to check his blood sugar as soon as he left their company.

Farah poked Shehab in equal adoration. “You mean when you set me up?” Mohab wanted to scoff “you, too?” as Farah turned to him with a mock-stern expression. “This perfect husband you see now first approached me swathed in Tuareg garb and masqueraded as someone else to seduce me into marrying him, thinking I was the former king of Zohayd’s illegitimate daughter, all in the name of keeping Judar’s peace.”

Mohab couldn’t hold back his scoff this time. It seemed seducing a woman for their kingdom’s sake, then falling for her was an epidemic among the princes in this region.

“Let’s get this engagement party under way, people,” Kamal called out. “We’re all experts at talking while eating.”

As voices rose in approval and everyone moved back to the splendidly laid-out table, Mohab found himself surrounded by Jala’s family while she was assimilated into his.

For the next hour a superb dinner was served, but he could taste none of it. Being separated from Jala and watching her with his cousins, with Najeeb, killed any appetite and any ability to enjoy her family’s company.

At one point, as he stared at the grinning faces of the loving couples around the table, he reached a final conclusion. The Aal Masood family all suffered from toxic levels of happiness, and exposure to them was detrimental to his health. And sanity.

But he could see something besides sickening bliss on their faces. It was the shrewd realization that all was not as it should be with him and Jala. He waited with bated breath for someone to allude to this, but as if to stop their suspicion from becoming conviction, Jala left his cousins and came to stand behind Farooq.

Leaning over her oldest brother, she draped supple arms over his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Can I have my fiancé back now? Cross-examined him to your heart’s content?”

Her arm brushed against him and her hair swished forward, deluging him in her scent. Everything inside him clamored, almost drowning Farooq’s guffaw.

“As if. You’ve got yourself one tight-lipped groom-to-be here. Figures, though, with what he does for a living. But the poor guy barely touched his dinner since he was busy eating you up. I don’t think he even heard most of what we said to him.”

Kamal chuckled. “I bet Mohab’s ideal engagement dinner would have been having you alone somewhere secluded by the sea. I think we only managed to torture him with this dinner.”

“Which is as it should be,” Shehab said, winking at her. “In another age, we would have made him roam the desert in search of mythical treasures, then return to jump through hoops of fire for the privilege of your hand.”

Mohab twisted his lips at her brothers. “Braving the desert unarmed and on foot, and then ending my trek by battling hungry hyenas over a fire pit would have been preferable to sitting across this ridiculously wide table from Jala throughout our so-called engagement party.” He swept the three men a challenging look. “You should test me. The honor and privilege of her hand demands every proof that I actually deserve it. So prepare your trials. The more impossible, the better.”

And he meant every word. He’d do anything for Jala. For this wasn’t a matter of wanting to get her out of his system anymore. This was about winning her. Properly this time. And forever. He finally faced what he’d avoided acknowledging for years: what she was to him. This woman he’d wanted from the first moment, who he had pined for through the years of alienation, who he had watched over and learned from.