Bought And Paid For: The Tycoon's Sheikha Bride Read online

  “Talk about security,” Jenson said, and Jasmina nodded.

  “They don’t call it a safe house for no reason.”

  “You know, when we’re married we could enjoy some great private time here,” he said, his tone suggestive.

  “When we’re married I imagine we’ll be sleeping on different sides of the palace for the rest of our lives.”

  “I think you’ll soon change your mind about that,” he said.

  “I think you’re a fool.”

  Jason laughed.

  “So, for the purposes of this outing, we’re American tourists traveling together as a couple, right?”

  “Right,” Jasmina said, and moved to step out the door.

  Before she could, he tugged her back and twirled her around, and she found herself suddenly pressed against him, their faces an inch apart.

  “Then let’s make it believable, shall we?”

  He lowered his head, then, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss, and lord help her, Jasmina began to kiss him back!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Time slowed as Jasmina melted in Jenson’s arms, her whole body on fire at the touch of his lips on hers. After a long moment, reality began to creep in and she realized just what she was doing. She pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him away, taking a step back as they both caught their breath.

  “Never do that again!” she hissed, turning away.

  “As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, though his tone belied any chance he would follow through on such a promise.

  Jasmina picked up her pace in an attempt to regain control of her senses. She had been a fool to kiss him back! She could still feel the press of his lips on her own, and it took everything in her not to try and wipe it away. She wondered then if that was what she really wanted, and brushed the thought aside. There wasn’t time for this nonsense! It was time to get back to the task at hand.

  As they reached a main street, she felt Jenson’s hand slide into hers.

  “Just keeping up our disguise,” he whispered against her ear.

  A shiver ran down Jasmina’s spine, but she simply nodded, allowing Jenson to continue holding her hand. They strolled down a few more winding streets until they reached a vast market that was teeming with people. Jasmina made her way down a row of stalls, holding Jenson’s hand all the while—the better not to lose him in the crowd.

  Yes, that was her reason.

  “Fresh apricots, miss? They make an excellent breakfast fruit!”

  Jasmina turned to face the vendor calling out to her and smiled. For a moment his eyes narrowed, like he recognized her from somewhere. She approached quickly and turned on her accent.

  “I’ve never have apricots with breakfast before. We don’t really do that in America.”

  “Oh, you are American! Yes, it is quite the tradition here. You will love the apricots of El Jayiah. They are some of the best in the world!”

  “These look wonderful, darling,” Jenson said, cozying up to her, wrapping his arm around her waist as he looked down at the cart of fruit. “How much did you say they were?”

  “For you, just ten jaya,” the vendor said, and Jasmina nearly snorted. The man was conning them! Apricots were so bountiful she knew they could get them for a fraction of that price. She smiled once more at the man.

  “Surely they can’t be that expensive. I’ve read that your country has an abundance of this fruit. As a matter of fact, I saw them for only one jaya at another stall. Perhaps we will take our business there.”

  “Ah, you are right, miss! We happen to be having a sale today, as a matter of fact.”

  “You are? What luck we’re in, honey,” she said, smirking up at Jenson.

  He smiled at her with a warm look in his eye, and her stomach did a little flip. She forced it to relax as she turned back to the vendor.

  “We’ll take a bag of those, please, for the sale price if you will.”

  Their interactions at the other stalls went much the same, with vendors trying to take advantage of their foreign status and Jasmina out-negotiating them at every turn. When she looked back up at Jenson after winning an argument over the price of chicken, he looked deeply impressed, which made her heart flutter a little more.

  Stop it, she thought, taking the bag of chicken from the man and walking away.

  She still didn’t release Jenson’s hand. He was carrying their groceries in his other arm, his gaze dancing from cart to cart as he considered what else they could add to their meal. Jasmina realized that they were doing very little to show him just what was at stake, so she turned to a woman selling scarves.

  “Oh, these are lovely,” she breathed. “Honey, look at these.”

  Jenson glanced down and cast her a sideways glance. No one knew better than he that Jasmina could afford any scarf in the world—perhaps had thousands of expensive garments worth far more than what the woman could sell them. He lifted a curious eyebrow.

  “They are quite nice, dear. Would you like one for when we fly back home?”

  Jasmina beamed, and the woman’s eyes lit up at the hope of a sale.

  “I would. Can you tell me how much this one is, please?”

  She lifted a bright blue scarf, holding it up to her white blouse. It really was stunning, if not made from the finest fabric. The woman nodded with enthusiasm.

  “Yes, that one is fifteen jaya.”

  “So affordable,” Jasmina breathed. “Are you sure this isn’t worth more?”

  The woman quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “You must be new to the market—you’re supposed to haggle the other way, miss.”

  Jasmina let out a nervous laugh.

  “Yes, I know, and thank you for your honesty. I will take this one for fifteen. I was wondering…can you tell us, what’s it like, living in El Jayiah?”

  The woman took the money from Jasmina’s hand, giving her a small bag for the scarf. Her eyes were heavy with age and decades of hard work, but there was a peacefulness about her, too.

  “I am proud to be from El Jayiah. It is a good place to live, even if we haven’t always had it easy. My husband lost his job last year, and I found myself having to work several more jobs to support us. Fortunately, a company came in and brought in lots of jobs. My husband was able to get work at the lithium mine, and he is there now, making quite a generous salary.”

  “That is great news,” Jasmina said, not looking at Jenson. “I’m glad you were able to find stability in these tough times.”

  “It’s an unstable world, miss. The rug could be pulled out from under us at any moment, and that mine will empty out someday. When that day comes, we’ll have to find another solution.”

  “That sounds terribly stressful,” Jasmina said. “It’s so important to remember that human life has so much more value than the bottom line.”

  The woman nodded.

  “Fortunately, whoever owns that mine must know that. He’s keeping us quite alive at the moment, and fed, too. We’re very grateful.”

  “Thank you again for this beautiful scarf,” Jasmina said, nodding politely to the woman.

  “You’re most welcome. Feel free to come back and buy some more for your friends. I work at this market every morning!”

  “I will try and make it back before our trip ends. Have a wonderful day!”

  They walked on, their arms laden with groceries.

  “What do you say we get ourselves some breakfast, then do some more exploring?”

  “Do we have any other choice?” Jenson asked, walking beside her as they made their way back to the safe house.

  “Nope,” she said, grinning.

  When they reached the house Jasmina opened the front door, the two of them slipping quietly inside. Together they prepared and ate a traditional El Jayiahn breakfast of boiled eggs, apricots, and toasted coconut before heading right back out the door. Jasmina took Jenson on a whirlwind tour of the city of Tyra, showing him ancient landmarks and making sure to stop and talk with
anyone she could about their life and what it was like to live in El Jayiah.

  “So you’re saying that it was almost impossible to find work before the mining company came into town?” she asked a man selling ice cream cones just outside one of the city parks.

  The man nodded, scooping vanilla ice cream into two cones and handing them to her.

  “It was. Our old Sheikh was a good ruler, but something happened and everything tanked so fast before suddenly going back to normal. We’re all still trying to wrap our heads around it.”

  Jasmina swallowed. She could tell him exactly what had happened.

  “And the Sheikha, what do you think about her?” Jenson asked.

  Jasmina fought a blush as she waited to hear the man’s honest opinion. He would never tell her what he really thought if he knew just who she was!

  “Our Sheikha is a kind and beautiful woman who loves her country and her people. I don’t really understand why she feels the need to lower her standards, though.”

  Jasmina nearly choked on a laugh, masking it as a cough.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she said, needing the man to go on.

  Jenson had stiffened behind her, his plan clearly backfiring.

  “The American she’s engaged to seems friendly enough, but Jasmina is a priceless jewel. She deserves better than some money-grubbing businessman.”

  “How do you know he’s money-grubbing? I read that he’s quite wealthy on his own.”

  Jenson’s tone was defensive, and the man gave him a curious stare.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have offended you both as Americans. I was just giving my opinion.”

  Jasmina placed a gentle hand on the man’s cart.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. My husband is a little sensitive sometimes when it comes to matters of money. I’m sure whatever your Sheikha is up to, it’s for the good of her people.”

  “Of course. The royal family has always put their country first.”

  The ice cream was beginning to melt in Jasmina’s hand, and so she bid the man a warm farewell before walking away, leaving Jenson to catch up from behind her. They had spent so much of the day walking around that Jasmina had barely noticed the passing of time. Somehow, the sun was beginning to set already.

  “We should get back. It’s not a good idea for us to be out after dark.”

  “You mean when no one can see us, as opposed to during the day, when everyone can?”

  “You’re just miffed because that man doesn’t think you’re good enough for me.”

  “I am not miffed, I simply felt the need to correct him.”

  “Why? He wasn’t wrong.”

  “Jasmina, we have been enjoying our first day without a fight. Let’s not ruin it, okay?”

  Jasmina smiled to herself, walking the rest of the way back to the safe house in comfortable silence. She was proud of her people that day. They had shown Jenson just what the population of El Jayiah was really made of, and hopefully showed him what would be at stake were they to get married. Wrapping her new blue scarf around her shoulders, she led the way inside as they prepared to spend a peaceful night indoors.

  “Good thing we thought to get a couple bottles of this at the market, eh? I could go for a very large glass of wine right about now,” Jenson said, reaching for a bottle and searching for a corkscrew to open it with.

  Jasmina opened a drawer on instinct and handed it to him, giving him pause.

  “How did you know where that was?”

  “I’ve been here a few times in my life. I know where things are,” she hedged, hoping she hadn’t just given herself away.

  He stared at her again before twisting the screw into the cork, the bottle making a pop sound as he opened it and poured out two healthy glasses. Taking his own glass, he walked over to the counter where Jasmina was busy prepping the chicken for their meal.

  “You didn’t mention that you could cook,” he said quietly.

  She shrugged.

  “All members of the royal family are taught basic survival skills. That also happens to include gourmet cooking.”

  Her joke landed on silence, and after a heavy pause, Jenson spoke.

  “You really don’t think I know what you’re up to?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jasmina’s shoulders tensed as she watched Jenson with a practiced neutral expression. Her poker face was coming in handier with every passing minute.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said, tossing the chicken into a pan.

  The meat began to sizzle instantly, the aroma spicy and flavorful. Jenson took a deep pull from his wine glass, his eyes still on her.

  “Dragging me through the city, not so subtly bringing up all those homespun stories about how wealth isn’t everything. I’m not that dense, Jasmina.”

  She smiled, then, relief pouring from her. He wasn’t that dense, but he was dense enough to not see through her false security threat.

  “Ah, you’ve caught onto my scheme, have you?”

  “Of course I have. You are a terrible liar, Jasmina.”

  “You would know,” she said.

  She stirred the chicken, lifting her wine glass and taking a sip, the drink relaxing her instantly. It had been a busy and tiring day, and the wine soothed her soul and her senses.

  “Still, I hope some of my lessons were absorbed today,” she said, casting a sideways glance at Jenson.

  He shrugged. Jasmina noticed that his first glass had already been drained, and he was pouring himself a refill.

  Why not? she thought.

  It had been ages since she allowed herself to let go even a little bit. She took another gulp of red wine, emptying her own glass.

  “Ahem,” she said, wiggling it out in front of him.

  “But where are my manners?” Jenson said, the corner of his lip curling as he tipped the bottle, filling her glass.

  “I’m used to much better service, I must say,” Jasmina teased.

  “I’m sure you are, Sheikha. Is that chicken ready yet? I’m half-starved already.”

  “You are not. We ate quite well today.”

  “That was ages ago. If you haven’t noticed, it’s dark out now. Stomachs have this weird way of processing food and needing more on a pretty regular basis.”

  “You’re explaining biology to me now? I had no idea you were a professor on top of everything.”

  “I’d wager there’s quite a lot you don’t know about me, actually.”

  Jasmina pulled the chicken from the burner. She had set a rice cooker to steam, and was pleased to see that the rice was ready to eat. She plated the food like a professional, setting a plate in front of Jenson.

  “Let’s eat at the table, like civilized people,” he said.

  Jasmina shrugged.

  “As you wish. I’m not picky.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “What? Just because I’m a royal? I spent four years as a college student, you know.”

  “But did you get your degree?”

  Jasmina’s eyes darted to her plate as she sat across from him at the small kitchen table.

  “No,” she said, taking a bite and quickly changing the subject. “You’ll like this. It’s a little spicy.”

  Jenson’s eyes were probing as he continued to stare at her.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not what?”

  “Why didn’t you get your degree? You’re clearly very intelligent. What happened?”

  “My father died, forcing me to return home just weeks out from receiving my degree.”

  “Can’t you just retake a course?”

  “I suppose I could, though I don’t exactly have a lot of free time these days. Someday I imagine I will. Until then, here we are.”

  Jenson sat quietly for a while, taking another sip from his glass. Jasmina was beginning to feel the effects of the wine most acutely. Her belly felt warm, her head a little woozy. Her guard was coming d
own, and she didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” Jenson said.

  Jasmina’s eyebrows shot up.

  “An apology from Jenson Black? I must have done something exceptional to warrant that.”

  He shrugged.

  “I never gave you my condolences for the death of your father. I knew the circumstances of course, but from my vantage point it represented an opportunity. I wasn’t seeing you as a person, and I want you to know that I’m sorry about that. If we are going to be married, we should learn to see one another as people.”

  “I’ve never seen you as anything else,” Jasmina said.

  Jenson smirked.

  “Come now. We both know that’s not true. You’ve seen me as the biggest villain of your life. Admit it.”

  She stared him down, wanting to disagree, to tell him that she was better than that. The lie couldn’t quite reach her lips.

  Jenson nodded, taking a bite of the chicken.

  “This is delicious. Well done, Jasmina. A wife who can cook—what a treat for me!”

  “Like I’ll ever really be cooking for you, outside of extreme situations.”

  “For an extreme situation, this has been a pretty good time. It’s a good thing I left my wallet at home, though. We spent quite a lot today.”

  Jasmina’s eyes narrowed.

  “Where does this money-focused attitude stem from, anyway? What made wealth the number one thing you care about?”

  Jenson glanced up at her, then back down at his plate, as though deciding just how much to share. In the end the wine must have won out, because he sighed deeply before he answered.

  “I grew up in one of the richest families in Vermont. We had estates everywhere—New York, Paris, London, you name it. I grew up with the world at my fingertips.”

  “That sounds rather nice, if you ask me,” Jasmina said.

  Jenson laughed, and it was a bitter sound.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? The one thing I never had, the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world, was my parents’ approval. Even a sliver of their attention would have been something, but they were always too busy making deals, finding new avenues of income. I would try and try as a child to get their attention. First I tried getting perfect grades and making captain of every sports team. When that didn’t work, I tried getting into trouble. The first time they really took notice of me was when I started my own business, started making money. That was their language. It was the only way I could get through to them.”