THE PRINCE'S UNWANTED WIFE

     ‘Please, Your Highness. You cannot, must not, be caught.’

     ‘I promise, Jehan, I won’t. I don’t need much time, I just need to see him. Just to know that he’s not…’

     Hana swallowed, her siblings’ taunts ringing in her ears.

     He’s hideous. Cruel. A monster. That’s why no one is willing to marry him, Hana. He’s disfigured. His scars are as legendary as his temper. He’s worse, even, than his father. It’s why his first fiancée ran away.

     Hana doubted that what her sister had said, what the rumours proclaimed, was even halftrue, but she had to know. Not because it would stop her from marrying the interim ruler of Al Surrahin. No, she would do the duty her father had finally bestowed upon her.

     If she’d been able to find a decent picture of the notoriously camera-shy sheikh, it might have not been necessary to resort to such drastic measures. She just wanted to be prepared, that’s all. Their families were meeting tomorrow. All her siblings had returned to the palace for it. And if she was going to have a reaction to seeing her future husband for the first time, she’d rather not do it in public and bring more embarrassment to either the Regent of Al Surrahin or her family.

     Because hadn’t she already embarrassed her family enough over the years?

     ‘Your Highness,’ Jehan started nervously, ‘I understand… I really do. But if you are caught—’

     ‘I won’t be,’ Hana assured him. ‘I won’t be more than five minutes. The moment I’ve seen him, I’ll leave again. I promise.’

     He eyed her sceptically. A look that she’d seen on a hundred faces over the years. And she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t aware of how much chaos she caused. But no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t seem to stop it from happening. And really, in this instance, she was just going to stick her head around the door, and then leave again.

     What trouble could she really get into?

     A lot apparently.

     Hana had come to the spa many times as a guest, so she’d been confident that she would be able to find her way around. Only this time, all the corridors merged together as if she were in an Escher painting. Her heart began to pound and stress, combined with the heat of the spa, caused a light sheen of sweat to cover her skin beneath the black abaya the female staff members wore.

     Get it together, Hana, she told herself firmly. She had a plan and she was going to stick to it. She’d been so thankful when the regent had accepted her father’s gift. She knew she was taking a risk, but the reward would be when she faced him tomorrow with a smile.

     She just needed one glimpse, she thought as she peered around the end of the hallway that finally opened out into the central area of the spa.

     The ethereal aquamarine glow from the twelve pools that she loved so much revealed that they were empty. She turned down another hallway, pausing for a moment to inhale the delicious scents from the oil burners placed discreetly along the walls. The familiar notes of neroli and jasmine soothed the frayed edges of her nerves and she steeled herself as she pressed on.

     She came to a halt opposite the steam room just as its door opened. Steam billowed outwards as a man—huge—covered only by a low-slung towel wrapped around his waist stepped into the corridor. Stifling a gasp, Hana stepped back as she took in dark slicked-back hair that was long enough to brush shoulders so wide that he took up almost the entire hallway. Staff had to press themselves into the curved walls or get out of the way as the man stalked forward, his back still to her.

     Skin warming with a blush that had nothing to do with embarrassment, Hana realised that this was the Regent of Al Surrahin. This was the man she would marry.

     Without pausing in his stride, he tore the towel from his waist and dropped it to the floor, and this time nothing would stop the strange sound that fell from Hana’s mouth at the sight.

     Her hungry gaze all but consumed the sight of powerfully honed muscles across his firm backside and torso even as a blush rose to her cheeks. Her heart pounded in her chest as he reached the shower directly opposite her at the end of the corridor and seconds later, powerful jets of water rained down on his naked body.

    She’d never, never, seen a man’s naked form. At twenty-three years old, that might be unusual, but she was the youngest princess of an aging father who had firm ideas about propriety and duty, and she had never wanted to cross him or those ideas.

     Until now.

     Hana bit her lip. Her eyes followed the rivulets of water up and down the smooth dark skin of the man in front of her and suddenly the thought of tomorrow filled her with excitement, until she remembered the rumours that had brought her here.

     She frowned, peering through the darkness to see what could possibly have caused such harsh critique, until…there in the shadows she saw the raised scarred flesh that looked like lightning forking down over his shoulder and upper arm. This? This was what people had teased and taunted him for? She took a step closer, wondering if she was missing something when the Regent of Al Surrahin turned, and Hana knew if she didn’t move, right now, he would catch her. Staring at him. Naked.

     She spun on her heel and pushed her way into a room off the corridor, collapsing back against the door.

     Her heart pounded as her mind’s eye flashed with sculpted muscles, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he braced himself against the tile.

     Please. You cannot be caught.

     Not for Jehan and not for herself. But in her fear, she had fallen into one of the treatment rooms where there was only one way in and one way out—the door she had just come through.

     Never mind. She’d wait here until she was sure that he’d gone.

     She inhaled slowly and prised her eyes open and away from the memory of the incredible sight of her fiancé to the treatment room she was in. It was one of the massage suites, with flickering yellow candles and gentle music soothing her frantic pulse.

     She tore herself away from the door and crossed the room, realising that the oils were being heated and candles had been lit as if they were ready to be used. But Jehan had told her that the spa would be closed to all other guests, so why was…? Why was…?

     Oh no!