The following morning they flew to Dubai, where the main studios were located. Back in his tower apartment. Andie threw herself back into her main writing, with no more rewrites, she could give it one hundred per cent.
Shihab spent most of his day at the studio, going over the film.
Settled at a table, near the long full-length windows that circled the long balcony of the main room, she had the views to inspire her, reaching for her phone as it rang. "Hello Kristen, I'm writing!" She answered before she was asked.
"Cool your heels Andie; I rang to tell you the deadline had been extended. They love what you have written so far. 'Your best book yet,' quote, unquote. I kinda told them you shouldn't be pushed, and you will produce much better without the pressure."
Andie sank further back into her seat with relief. "How long?"
"How long do you need?"
"I have no idea, however, this story is writing itself. I'm done with rewrites, so can put my all into this."
"So where are you?"
"Dubai with the best views ever. Very inspirational, believe me."
"Good to hear, so when are you expected to come back?"
"Um, yes, about that, not coming back, well, not to live. You remember that producer you sicced onto me?"
"Yeeeees," she drawled out causally.
"Well, I married him."
"I knew it! One look of that hunk and I knew you would marry him!" Kristen took a deep breath. "Am I going to lose you?"
"No, of course not. Why would I get rid of my best editor and friend? We have come a long way, together."
"Yes, we have."
"Thank you for what you did. I will keep working on this until I am done," she vowed. They talked a bit longer and then went back to her writing. When Shihab arrived back, she ran into his arms and told him her good news.
"Good thing," he kissed her. "We are heading home tomorrow."
The following day, they flew out of Dubai and headed to his own country, a few hours away. "Andrea come here and sit down," Shihab finally ordered after she hopped from one seat to another, going from one side to another, looking out the plane's windows. She made a beeline for him and settled on his lap. His arm went around her as he scrolled down his computer. "Not actually what I have in mind, my love," he noted.
She nestled closer, nuzzling his neck, and then released a long, deep, body sigh. "What if they don't like me?" She asked softly.
"They are going to adore you, just be yourself."
"Well, I'm doomed then aren't I?" She played with the front of his shirt. "Perhaps, if I become in tune with one of my heroines? They always take it in their stride."
"No, they don't."
"You're not helping!"
"And we have been through this all before. You are going to be fine."
"What if I forget everything you have taught me?" She moaned in distress.
He laughed softly. "You haven't so far; actually, I think you have taught me a few things."
She made a deep sound in her throat with disgust. "I'm not talking sex."
"I hope not. I will not stand for that Andrea. I am the only sheikh you are allowed to have. Sweetheart, I have to get this done." She remained where she was, however, went quiet, running her fingers up and down his shirt front. "Can't you write?" She shook her head. Giving up, he lowered the lid of his computer. If she couldn't write, it was serious. He cocooned her into his arms. "Tell me what is bothering you."
"I don't want to embarrass you, or you being judged, because of your choices."
"Andrea," he warned. "I have told you before, you are my wife, end of discussion."
"I know that, and love you for it, but this is all so new to me. I mean, royalty. There's protocol. All the bowing, and shaking, or not shaking. I don't even speak the language."
"My family, all speak English perfectly. They already know you, do not speak our language. They'll take that into consideration. If they speak in Arabic because it's about palace business, not you. They are all dying to meet the woman, who brought me to my knees."
"I did not," she protested.
"Yes, you did, every time I looked at you."
She melted against him. "That's not fair. How can I fight that?"
"I don't want you fighting me. I just want you to love me."
Large hazel eyes peeked up from beneath his loving arms. "I do." She spread her hand over his beating heart. "Were they angry that we got married on the quiet?"
"Yes, they wanted to have this grand event. Of course, I have to let them organise this over-the-top wedding feast that we have to attend."
"What?!" She shot up horrified. "No, no, oh, my," she slammed her forehead against his chest when he smirked. "You are a cruel, cruel man Shihab Kadin Jalal Al-Dharr!" She declared. "I hate you."
"When before you declared how much you love me."
"Not when you do that to me, giving me a heart attack!"
"Then stop worrying. Have I not always protected you?" She eyed him closely. "Well, most of the time."
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "All the time," she corrected. "You have always looked after me Shihab. What happened wasn't your fault. You were protecting your family," she kissed him again. "That's what I love about you the most, your generous, protective heart. I am sorry I treated you so badly, all because I was jealous, every time she touched you, took you away from me. I hated the distance between us."
His arms tightened around her, holding her against him, burying his face into her hair, breathing her in. "I was not overly thrilled either. That's behind us now. We have our entire future in front of us. Do not concern yourself about my family; they will love you as I do. Our life would mainly be in London and go back home when we are needed. We will make our own life Andrea, you and me. Have our own family. I know you are concerned about a life you have no understanding of. I will never let you fall. Your role will be small, always at my side. No more of these insecurities. You have nothing to prove Andrea, not to me, not to anyone. Look what you have achieved already without me. I am just bringing your work to life and a wider audience."
Her brows went down thoughtfully. "So how are you represented to the world with me? By marrying me, won't it bring your two worlds together? You did say, they didn't know you were a prince. So I can't expose to your world, what I do, and I can't expose in mine, I'm legally a princess in your world."
"Being a producer, it wasn't hard to hide that fact. Being a world-famous writer, well that does bring up challenges. We will work around it."
"No one needs to know I married a prince, just a producer, and I only have to be a princess in your country. Easy peasy."
"Feeling better?" She nodded. "Now can I?" He pointed at his computer. She slid off his lap to his side, looping her arms through his, leaning against him as he went back to work. "Can I have my arm back?" Reluctantly she released his arm. He removed the chair arm between them and guided her down to lie on his lap. Contented, she brought up her legs, curling up in the chair and closed her eyes, letting the plane and Shihab wash over her as he worked.
Finally arriving at a private airport, and changed into suitable attire, Andie's breath caught, nearly passing out at the sight of Shihab in full royal garb, pure white linen robe, covered by a soft brown with gold edging overlay, white headdress with gold agal.
He looked stunning, regal and all hers, reminding her of their wedding day. He held out his hand towards her, his wedding band gleaming at her that matched her, with the family crest embedded around the gold ring.
She glided across in her long flowing mauve abaya with a matching scarf over her loose hair, wrapped around her neck, taking his hand that he squeezed. "Ready?"
"I am now. I will just follow your greatness."
"Andrea!" He moaned, heat reddening his cheeks. "You are bad."
"What? You look amazing, so hot," she fanned a hand in front of her face. "Babe, you are so hot!"
"You are just turned on by the clothes," he noted dryly.
"Yes," she groaned, nearly wetting herself. "Are you going to be dressed like this all the time?"
He eyed her sideways. "Am I in danger of getting molested?"
"Every friggin' minute. I want you now," she whispered, leaning up towards him.
"I should have seen this coming. Behave yourself."
She brushed up against him, voice lowering. "I'm so hot for you. Can we do it in the car?"
"Andrea! Do I have to send you back to London?"
"Um, no, I need to fend off all those women."
He eyed her closely. "What women?"
"The ones who want to molest my prince."
Shaking his head, he led her out of the plane, and down the stairs. The heat after the cool air-conditioned plane was noticeable. Shihab led her towards a black limousine with flags out front that she pointed at.
"We get flags," she noted excitedly.
He urged her into the back of the car and slid in beside her as the door closed. She clasped his hand. Gently he rubbed his thumb over her hand, knowing how nervous she was. She turned towards him and pressed up against him.
"Forget it," he growled low in his voice. She laughed and sneaked in a quick kiss. "Behave," he hissed, snatching another one. "That will have to do until we are alone."
As they got closer and closer to the palace, she grew quieter and quieter as her grip on his hand got tighter and tighter, eyes like saucers at the sight of the imperial palace. She nearly cut off his blood circulation in his hand, as they pulled up in front of the entrance of the palace with sandstone steps.
Very impressive long stairs that led up to a pillar's frontage.
"You don't know how enormous a royal palace is unless you see it up front," she barely whispered. He brought up her hand to kiss. She looked across, swallowing hard, eyes wary.
"It's just a building, actually my home. It's just a home like yours." Sadness filled her eyes.
"I hope not," taking a deep breath, then gasped, releasing her grip on his hand that was white. "I'm so sorry Shihab."
"You have quite a grip on you. Must remember that when we have children."
"Don't worry, I'm having drugs," she promised.
His door was opened, before he could answer that and climbed out, shaking his head at the man on the other side. He walked around to the other side, where the door was opened. He offered his hand that was taken and he helped Andie out.
"You wanted to get our children addicted to drugs?" He whispered in her ear.
She elbowed him in the midriff. "Utt, utt, no touching allowed," he rebuked. She looked at him in disbelief, so touched him with a finger.
"No, you didn't turn into stone or melt away into oblivion."
"That writer's mind of yours is going to be the death of me," he complained, taking hold of her hand, and walked up the stairs, towards the front door that opened as they approached.
She leaned in closer. "What? We are being spied on?"
"Always, so behave, and no dancing naked in the corridor."
"Me naked?" She choked.
"Dancing naked in the sandstorm," he reminded her.
She eyed him closely. "And you believed me?"
His eyes widened. "Of course." Placing his hand on the small of her back as they entered the palace's grand foyer with marble floors, pillars, sweeping staircases, symmetric patterns, and a domed ceiling in an Arabian style that stole her breath away. "I would take you to our apartment before you meet my brother," Shihab informed her. "Unless, of course, he has different ideas," he noted dryly.
Startled, she looked up at him.
"Sorry?" She asked in a very low voice, not daring to breathe.
She followed his gaze to a small gathering waiting for them. Shihab's hand was on her back, urging her forward. It seemed she had stopped. The warmth of his touch rippled through her that she released her held breath to breathe.
Stopping in front of the gathering, she was introduced to his brother, King Zahir and his extremely beautiful Arabian wife Saleema. The Queen of the very beautiful country that they had flown into. A sight of beauty, an oasis in the desert, beside the coastline, between two larger countries.
They looked so regal.
Zahir looked so like his brother but was much more serious. He had a serious job until he took his brother into his arms and hugged him, his face lighting up with joy. Her heart ached for what she had lost.
Then Shihab hugged his sister-in-law, kissing cheeks, whispering together. They had a connection. She sensed history, more intrigued than jealous. She had no doubts about Shihab's love for her in every way.
Okay, needed to calm down, and take his lead.
Standing off to the side, hands held behind her back, taking it all in, the Royal Palace. Much more magnificent in real life, such grandeur, yet not in one's face. Just breathe it. She was drawn across over to touch a solid round pillar of marble with swirls of pale browns through a cream colour, running fingers over the intricate fine pattern that went all the way up to the ceiling, spreading out in circles edging on top of each other in three.
Cool to the touch.
"Perhaps we can organise a tour of our architecture for you to see, Princess Andrea." She turned to find Zahir.
"Really? That would be wonderful. It is so beautiful. How old?"
"This has been in our family for generations that had been added to over the last few decades. It's only the last few decades; we have come into our wealth outright."
"That has been kept protected," she added, making sure he knew she loved his brother, not his money.
"Yes, I know. I signed off on the documents. My advisers, however, are very wary about upsetting our new addition to the family."
She pressed her fingers against her lips, cheeks colouring. "Ah, yes, about that. The writer coming out, not the princess." Her eyes widened. "Still getting used to that. He never told me, until he asked me to marry him. It's all still a secret and we will keep it that way," she vowed.
"Hmm," he offered up and then opened his arm in invitation. "Let's join the others; we shall have refreshments if it isn't too much for you."
"No, not at all. I would enjoy that. Oh, there is Hashim," she waved, and the younger man charged across, lifting her off her feet in a hug.
"How dare Shihab marry you before I had a chance to steal you away?"
"Well, that wasn't going to happen," she laughed, hugging him back.
"Hashim," his older brother warned him.
"Yes, I know, but it's Andie May!"
"You're my brother's wife," Zahir reminded him. "And we are very protective of our wives."
They looked across at the glaring man.
Hashim stepped away, and Andie laughed, kissing his cheek. Shihab's eyes narrowed. Hashim shrugged. Together they joined the others and departed, pausing to meet and greet the head staff members. Andie stopped to meet every member, learning their names, and duties.
Zahir dismissed them and sent them back to their duties.
Shihab gathered her back to his side. "Stop flirting with my brother," he hissed without malice, eyes twinkling.
"He's so cute," she teased. "You're gorgeous."
"I'm cute," Hashim protested, then sighed dramatically. "I had no show, did I?" He asked, looking so mournful.
Andie pointed at Shihab. "His fault, not mine." Then glanced at Hashim. "What are you studying exactly?"
"That is what I would like to know," Zahir noted. "I send him to learn business not acting."
"Oxford. King Lear. Shakespeare, there is nothing like it."
"Ah, yes," Shihab nodded, "drama classes." Zahir headed forwards, picking up speed, not amused. Shihab and Hashim beside Andie. "Far from impressed," they noted. Saleema at his side, gently touched his arm.
Instantly he slowed and relaxed. The woman knew her man.
"He doesn't approve," Andie noted softly.
"He has a lot on his shoulders," Shihab sighed. "Probably too much and far too soon."
"Saleema is perfect for him," she stated, slipping an arm through Shihab's arm.
"Yes, she is," Shihab smiled down at her. "As you are for me. Sorry, brother, you had no chance."
"I know it's Andie May," Hashim grinned.
She looked from one to another. "Don't tell me, you all know about his love for my books, my number one fan?"
Hashim laughed. "That's what we call him. He was. He has every copy, sends straight to him from the publishers before they were released, after devouring his first, and backlogged."
Blushing Andie fanned her face. "Really? You are my number one fan," she hugged his arm.
He smiled at her. "There will be no hobbling or forcing you to change your stories."
"Really brother that is Stephen King," Hashim rebuked.
"We know," they grinned at each other.
They entered a grand reception room, where refreshments were set up upon a long mahogany buffet-style table with arrangements of pastries and sandwiches. Serving themselves, Andie settled between the brothers on a black leather sofa. Zahir and Saleema are opposite them in separate chairs.
Saleema asked her endless questions about her life and family. When it became quite personal, Shihab clasped her hand tightly, taking over. "Andrea lost her parents, four years ago in a car crash."
"We are sorry to hear that," Zahir jumped in, eyeing off his wife, who fell quiet.
"It's alright," Andrea reassured. "If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be where I am today. They gave me the freedom to follow my dream."
Zahir glanced around his own family. "How wise of them. You are going to fit in here very well. I will not lie; I was not so sure, who you were, and all."
"A writer?" She asked.
"No, a foreigner," he corrected. "But I see you are indeed a blessing to this family."
"Thank you and a great honour, your highness. I hope I don't disappoint you. I will do what I have to do at Shihab's side; however, I do also have to write my books. They are a part of me."
"My wife is a great reader of your books. I trust her judgement. She says you have the essence of our country. How can I argue with that?"
The conversation was changed, and Andie relaxed at Shihab's side and was glad, when he called an end to it, saying his wife needed to rest. They departed, where she was taken to their apartment of rooms, in a separate wing of the palace.
Beautiful rooms, however, very sparse. Marble floors, divans, and chairs in the main room. The bedroom had a very large four-posted bed with draped heavy dark red curtains, pulled back that she fell on, after stripping down and crawling under the covers, while Shihab showered, changed and went off to have meetings with his brother.
Andie settled in her new home. She did what she usually did, write.
Shihab spent most of his time with his brother. It worked, and she was happy. When she needed a breather, she went to the open souks, buying treasures for their home with Jal, Shihab's most trusted man.
At night was their time together, though, did spend a lot of meals with his brothers and his wife. She couldn't help noticing there was a real connection between Shihab and Saleema.
The palace itself was like a city within a city with surrounding walls and guards. There were the queen's gardens that were so spectacular and green. Andie had walked through them when she needed to clear her head.
There were even gardens outside the window of their main room that was much warmer now, with rugs, new furniture and added potted plants, lanterns and camels. Shihab gave her free reign to do as she pleased.
After another dinner with his brothers and wife, they headed back to their apartment and entered. Andie eyed him sideways. "How well do you know Saleema?" She inquired.
He eyed her closely. "Where had that come from?"
She crossed over to flop onto the divan with a toss-over blanket on it, sideways. "Just noticing how chummy you are with her all the time."
Sighing, he rubbed the nape of her neck, sitting down on the other end. "I thought once, a long time ago, we would have married."
Her eyes widened. What had he said? One serious relationship. "You were in love with your sister-in-law," she gasped.
"A long time ago. I still care for her very deeply."
"That's why she gave me a hard time, interrogating me."
"Did she?" He smiled. "That is why she approves of you so much."
"Shihab," she protested. "You should have told me."
He shrugged. "Why? It meant nothing."
She jumped to her feet, edgy, pacing, while being watched closely by Shihab. She stopped and turned towards him. "Oh, but it does because you brought it up in that twenty-question thingy we did. You told me you only ever had one serious relationship, and now I find out it was with your sister-in-law!"
"Before they married, we grew up together."
She took a shaky breath, sinking into a chair, and frowning. "Like high school sweethearts." She looked up searching. "Do you still love her Shihab?"
"Yes," her heart sunk, paling. "As my sister, we have a special connection as we always had. Shall I disconnect with her because of us? I would if you demanded it."
Closing her eyes, she lowered her head, clutching at her arms, confused. She had promised to trust him, believe him, and he had never betrayed her, but this was different. They had a connection. History.
What about his brother, surely he wouldn't be so happy about their connection.
Is that why Shihab stayed away from home so much?
Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and looked across, searching. "Why me?"
"I am sorry, but I can't do this anymore, Andrea. I have already told you, Saleema is my past. Carla a nightmare, we have to deal with, and hated not telling you."
He was correct; it was her insecurities that could pull them apart. Panicking, she stood and threw herself into his arms. Ones that usually wrap around her, he seemed reluctant to do so, her heart breaking. She had done this.
"I'm sorry, I know it's me. It was a shock, didn't see that coming," his arms went around her to her relief, snuggling in closer. "Tell me about it."
Caressing her back he did. They grew up together, she was from another country, connected and had very close ties. There were only a couple of years between them, his junior, seven his brother.
"There really wasn't anything between us. I just thought she would make the perfect wife. We got on so well."
"I bet she didn't give you a hard time as I did."
"One would not dare speak to me as you do," he laughed, kissing her temple.
"Hey, I didn't know you were a prince," she pointed out.
"Are you saying you would have treated me differently?"
"There might have been some bowing and scraping, however, far too late now," she teased.
"So no bowing or scraping to be had," he asked sounding disappointed.
"Only maybe your brother," she offered.
"Oh, what, payback?" She laughed to be tossed on her back onto the divan, hovered over, eyes glowering. "There will be no bowing or scraping, only when I am involved."
She played with the edge of his robe. "Don't see that happening myself," she teased and was kissed for her effort. "So how did the princess end up marrying your brother? I gather she was a princess."
"Yes, she was," he raked a hand over her hair, then followed the line of her face, tilting towards him to kiss. "It was decided they would make a perfect match and were married."
Her hand stilled and pressed against his beating heart. "An arranged marriage?" She asked with sadness.
"Yes, but both are perfectly happy about it. Darling," he stroked her face drawing her gaze to his. "That was nearly fifteen years ago. I was her best friend and she was in awe of my brother."
"You would have been twenty?" He nodded. "Do they have any children?" She hadn't seen any.
"Yes, three, they reside in a different part of the palace. At the moment away at school." She eyed him closely. "What?"
"We will not send out kids away, ever, agreed?"
He kissed her, "agreed," he promised. "However, we won't be running a country and our children aren't next in line. Believe me, when they come home, you will know about it."
Thoughtfully she trailed a finger down his chest. "Are you saying we would be staying here now most of the time?"
"No, however, probably spend more time here than I normally do. Think of all the peace you would get here and such inspiration."
She looked at him closely. "Are you trying to sell me on the palace life?" She dared.
"Is it working?"
"Maybe, now, I know who your first love is, and there is no chance of her coming back into your life, and stealing you back," she purred.
"So glad you are taking this all so well."
She glanced at him thoughtfully. "Is that why you moved to London, to get away from it all?"
"At first. It would never have worked with us. Saleema loves my brother, she likes the palace life, and I love travelling, and the movies, and of course my favourite writer, the love of my life." She melted. How could she ever doubt that? "So all in the clear now?"
"Of course." Smiling, he eased off her, held out his hand that she took and rose to her feet and was swept off her feet into his arms and headed towards the bedroom.
Days turned into weeks. Andie lost herself in her story, now not under pressure, she was writing like a king. The words flow, adding another twist to the story. Shihab was truly her inspiration. Shihab spent hours with his brother going over palace business or attending functions with his brother. Saleema is often at their side.
He left Andie where she was happy to be, in their apartment.
Saleema pulled Shihab aside. "I'm concerned about Andrea," she spoke softly.
He glanced down at her frowning. "There was no need. Andrea is my concern and only my concern."
"Always, you protect the ones, you believe are yours." She sighed at his deepening frown. "You misunderstand me. I think she is perfect for you."
A brow shot up. "Because she needs me?"
She shook her head; silky long black hair swished her back, rich dark eyes shining. "Because she won't be walked over by you. She won't be bulldozed into what you want. That girl has a backbone."
He released a long breath. "I wish you would tell her that, she lacks so much confidence in herself."
"Yet won't shrink away."
"No," he agreed. "She does go for the jugular. I know. So what are you so concerned about? Obviously not being the wrong girl, because she isn't."
Saleema rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows that. The poor girl didn't stand a chance when we heard it was Andie May. Shihab personal fantasy girl." He gave her a warning glare, even if they were gleaming.
"And?"
"Anyway. I hope she doesn't feel too alone, while you see to business with your brother. They can be long sessions. She won't be bored, will she? This can be rather overwhelming, and she was not born to all this."
Shihab pressed his lips together to stop laughing out loud. That's what he loved about being around Andrea, he would have. He had freedom with her. He coughed, clearing his throat. "There is no need." Saleema looked beyond him, and he glanced back, finding Andrea hovering in the distance.
He waved her across. She headed towards him concerned. "I hope I'm not intruding," she offered softly. Shihab ran a hand over her hair and leaned in, kissing her forehead.
"Of course not. Saleema was concerned," her eyes widened slightly, "that you would be bored while I was away."
Andrea laughed out aloud, cutting short, lowering her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." Shihab laughed softly.
"As you will learn, she loves being by herself. I'm totally ignored," he moaned dramatically. "I felt so unloved." Andie elbowed him. "See what I have to put up with. No respect, I tell you."
"Not my fault, he never told her he was a prince, until he asked me to marry him," she protested then grinned. "By then it was far too late, he's just Shihab now," she grinned up at him.
"What do you want sweetheart?"