Princess of Zamibia Read online

You, he wanted to say. Instead, he replied, “I lost my ability to show kindness when I discovered you’d kept my son from me. You could have told me, instead of hiding the truth.”

  “As soon as I confirmed my pregnancy, I tried. I called. Didn’t Kemal tell you?”

  He paused. “You told him you were pregnant?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. Her shoulders sagged. “No. I called and he told me you were married and on your honeymoon. With the woman you’d been engaged to the entire time you were here.”

  Her accusatory stare lanced his conscience, but he refused to feel remorse. His time with Dahlia had been a temporary reprieve from his responsibilities. He’d considered marrying her and making her his second wife, until their relationship fell apart and he learned the truth about the stolen funds.

  “We don’t have anything else to discuss. My son will return to Zamibia with me. There’s no negotiation on this point.” Kofi picked up his coat and gloves.

  She was right that Noel was not a legitimate heir, but he’d already talked to his father about signing a proclamation accepting Noel as next in line. This type of edict had been made once before, over two centuries ago.

  “We have to negotiate, Kofi.”

  “Negotiate? I can do whatever I damn well please.”

  “There has to be another way! You can’t take him away from me. He’s my son, too.”

  Kofi paused. A wayward thought entered his mind, and his scalp tingled. “Maybe there is another way.”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What is it?”

  He weighed the offer for a few more seconds before finally saying, “Marry me. Come back to Zamibia as my fiancée.”

  Dahlia shuffled two steps back. “What? No! That’s preposterous.”

  “It’s the only other option I would agree to.”

  “Why?”

  “Noel is my son, but he was born outside of marriage. If you and I are married, it will make the approval from The Most High Council easier, ensuring they accept him as the legitimate heir.”

  “You want to take him back and install him as next in line, but your council has the power to veto your decision.” Dahlia laughed softly and crossed her arms over her chest. “You need me.”

  He remained silent.

  “We hate each other, Kofi. And would this even work? Don’t I need to have royal blood?”

  “I can marry whoever I please, and as the mother of my firstborn, you’ll be accepted, I assure you.”

  Dahlia shook her head to clear it. “I don’t know anything about being a princess. I don’t know what to do or say, or...” Her hands flapped in confusion.

  “You’ll learn. You’ll have tutors and coaches available to aid you.”

  “And how are you going to spin the story about us?”

  “No one knows about your theft.” Once he’d discovered the missing funds, he’d only shared the embezzlement with the people closest to him and replaced the money from his own bank account. “Pretend we’re long lost lovers who reunited,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  She swallowed. “And if I say no?”

  Kofi clenched his fist. “Then I’ll take my son, and you’ll have to make appointments around my schedule to see him,” he snarled.

  Time ticked by in silent, slow motion.

  “I can’t believe how cruel you are.” She swallowed.

  “He’s coming back with me, and it’s better if you come, too. He shouldn’t be without you.”

  “How considerate of you. Don’t tell me there’s potentially a heart underneath all the ice?”

  “No matter what you think, I’m not completely heartless, but Noel isn’t an ordinary child. He must be allowed to live the life he was destined to live.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but a child’s wail pierced the silence. The sound captured their attention at the same time, and as Kofi tossed aside his coat and gloves and moved toward the bedroom door, Dahlia stepped in front of him and blocked his entry.

  His face tightened in fury and he stepped closer. Through clenched teeth he said, “Step aside, Dahlia. You will no longer deny me my rights as a father.”

  “Let me go in ahead of you or you’ll scare him. You may be his father, but you’re a stranger.”

  Kofi opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want to frighten his son. Noel’s first impression of him should be pleasant and calm. With a sharp inclination of his head, he gave his consent to handle the introduction her way.

  Dahlia opened the door to the bedroom. In the soft glow of the night light, Noel stood on wobbly legs, chubby little fingers clinging to the bars of the crib, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. When he saw his mother, his cries became louder, as if relieved she was there and he hadn’t been left alone. After switching on a small lamp, Dahlia hurried over to him.

  “Oh, precious, don’t cry. Mommy’s here,” she cooed. She lifted him from the crib and laid his head on her shoulder. “Shh,” she said soothingly, rubbing his back.

  Kofi ached to run his fingers over his son’s tight curls and brush away his tears. But he remained in position, jealously watching their interaction like an outsider, his heart heavy, his chest tight.

  Eventually, Noel quieted down. Then he stopped crying completely and stared at Kofi.

  Unable to resist any longer, Kofi gently caressed the soft black curls atop his son’s head. “My son,” he said huskily. “You have the face of an angel.” With a large thumb, he stroked the tears from Noel’s cheek. “I want to hold him.”

  Carefully, Dahlia relinquished Noel into his arms. The little boy didn’t utter a sound and continued to look into Kofi’s face. Kofi held him aloft, gazing at him in wonder and examining him from head to toe. When he kissed his son’s little fist, Noel squealed and laughed, revealing teeth that had come in. Kofi kissed his fist again, and Noel laughed again, this time reaching for his father’s mouth and slapping his palm over his father’s jaw and bearded chin.

  Kofi laughed. “Yes, explore. I’m your baba, Noel.”

  “Baba.”

  “Yes, Baba.” Kofi lowered to the edge of the bed and cradled his son in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth. Eventually, Noel’s eyes fluttered and drooped, and Kofi couldn’t take his eyes off him. He lost track of how long he sat there, staring at him.

  Finally, he stirred, rising from the bed and placing Noel back in the crib. The child sighed quietly, and soon his gentle breathing whispered through the room as he fell back into a fitful sleep.

  After taking a few minutes longer to stare at his son, Kofi returned his attention to Dahlia, who stood quietly nearby, watching.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Dahlia closed the door and watched Kofi run a hand over his close-cropped hair. When he faced her, his full lips were set in a grim line.

  “I need to know your decision. Are you coming back to Zamibia with me and Noel?”

  She almost saw the wheels turning in his head. Now that he’d seen Noel and held him, it was clear he was even more determined to take him back.

  “I do want to come, but-but I’ve never been out of the country before and need time to think. You’re practically blackmailing me.”

  “Blackmail?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not forcing you to come back with me.”

  “You are forcing me. If I don’t do what you say, you’ll take my son.”

  “Your decision to come with us has no bearing on whether I take Noel or not,” Kofi said evenly.

  This wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. This cold, unfeeling person emerged after the discovery of the theft. She couldn’t blame him for his anger, but she wished he’d trusted her more and believed she didn’t have anything to do with stealing his money. She hadn’t used her ‘feminine wiles’—as he’d accused her—to distract him from the truth.

  “Does it make you feel better to carry out your vengeance on me?”

  “Vengeance? Count yourself lucky I have
n’t resorted to vengeance.” He lanced her with an icy stare. “What’s your decision? Will you return to Zamibia with me or not?” His voice took on an imperial, demanding tone.

  If she allowed Kofi to take Noel, she could stay behind and fight him in court, but in the interim, years could pass before she saw Noel again as she fought for her rights. And what if she lost? With Kofi’s limitless power and wealth, he would very likely be the victor in such a mismatched battle.

  Dahlia sighed heavily, tired of his badgering and physically exhausted from her long day. “Can I have a little time to think about your tempting offer?”

  “Certainly. I’m a reasonable man. How much time do you need?”

  “A week would be nice.”

  “We don’t have that much time. We leave next Friday.”

  “That only gives me eight days,” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

  “Too much time has passed already.” He was immoveable in his resolve. His eyes narrowed on her pinched face. “You have forty-eight hours. Not a second more.”

  5

  Buildings and street lights streamed by as Kofi stared out the side window in the backseat of the SUV taking him to the hotel. Abdalla sat up front with the driver, leaving him to reflect in solitude during the drive.

  He’d wanted to whisk Dahlia and Noel away from their average little apartment building tonight and bring them back with him to the suite he occupied at Presidential Commons, a swanky building downtown where some of the richest people in the city resided. Instead, he left her alone to digest their conversation. He didn’t bother to tell her he’d left two men outside the door of her apartment as a means of protection. She would see them soon enough.

  His fingers stroked his beard, eyes unseeing as tumultuous feelings raged throughout his body. He’d felt possessive love, fierce protectiveness, and intense pride when he’d looked at his son’s cherubic face. Nothing could have prepared him for the intensity of emotions that coursed through him. When he considered all the time he’d lost and milestones he’d missed, a huge crater of emptiness opened in his soul.

  The vehicle pulled in front of the hotel and his driver quickly disembarked and opened the door. Without a word, Kofi swept through the front doors with Abdalla leading the way and a second guard a respectful distance behind Kofi. In the elevator, he maintained his silence.

  He wished his mother and Jafari were alive to meet Noel. Kofi swallowed the lump in his throat. The pain of losing them never seemed to go away.

  “Good night,” he said to Abdalla, leaving the big man at the door.

  Kemal rose from the sofa in the spacious living room. “How did it go?”

  Kofi couldn’t help the grin that came over his face and sat on the arm of a chair, in awe the little boy he’d met was part of him. “He’s amazing, with bright, intelligent eyes. And he took to me right away.”

  “So are we on the same schedule?”

  “Yes. We leave in a week. Tomorrow I go back, and I’ll take Aofa with me,” Kofi said, referring to the nanny. He rose from the chair. “I plan to spend the day with my son.”

  “And Dahlia’s okay with your decision to take Noel back to Zamibia?” Kemal asked, one eyebrow arched.

  “Not exactly, but she doesn’t have a choice. I know about him now. She can’t keep us apart any longer.” He removed his gloves. “I asked her to come back with me and be my wife.”

  “Your wife? I don’t understand. When was this decision made?”

  When they discussed coming here, Kofi only mentioned taking Noel back, but seeing Dahlia again had a profound effect on him. For three years he’d felt nothing, driven only to perform his duties as the prince of his country. Being near her, even briefly, filled the cold parts of him with a fiery warmth that consumed him in a way that threw him off balance.

  From the beginning, he’d reacted to her in the same way. When they met a few years ago, he’d managed to rein in his attraction and keep their relationship purely professional for only a short period. As the days passed, their conversations became longer and extended into areas that didn’t include real estate. He regaled her with stories of his homeland, and she revealed her love of art and interest in photography.

  Over coffee, they engaged in spirited debates on education, how to curtail crime, and in her opinion, the barbarism of capital punishment. Are we really any better if we kill our citizens and call that justice? she’d asked. And while he disagreed with her stance on drug use, he respected the compassion she displayed for those caught in the grip of addiction. She considered them victims instead of criminals and thought they should be treated and counseled instead of punished.

  Dahlia was the perfect blend of sweet and tart, exuding charm when it suited the situation, but ready to argue with him in a way no other woman dared do. Her openness and free-spirited nature made him laugh. During his stay in New York, he’d thought about her constantly when they were apart and had always created the flimsiest reasons to call.

  “It was a spur of the moment decision.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, but is marrying her a good idea? I know you have carried a torch for this woman for some time—”

  “Whatever feelings I have or don’t have for Dahlia Sommers are irrelevant,” Kofi said in an icy tone. “She’s my son’s mother, and I don’t think they should be apart.”

  Kemal tempered his voice. “Very well, I understand, but why not take her back to simply care for the child? You don’t have to marry her.”

  Rather than admit Kemal was correct, Kofi walked away. “My decision is made. I gave her forty-eight hours to accept my offer of marriage.”

  “And if she declines?” Kemal called after him.

  Kofi ignored the question. As far as he was concerned, there was no way Dahlia would say no, therefore entertaining the thought of a refusal was a waste of time.

  He climbed the stairs and entered the spacious bedroom, tossing his coat and gloves on a chair against the wall. He went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, anticipating the phone call he’d make tomorrow. His father would be pleased when he told him he’d soon be able to hold his grandson. Particularly since when Azireh passed away, the country learned that she was pregnant.

  Dahlia turned restlessly in the bed, unable to sleep. She repositioned the pillow and turned onto her side. Her weary mind couldn’t settle after the confrontation with Kofi.

  Frustrated, she left the bed and peeped at Noel before padding quietly to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. With only the light above the stove on, she sat at the table, reflecting on how she’d come to this uneasy place in her life.

  Melanie Wane, her old partner, was the kind of woman who smiled often and would give you the clothes off her back. Except Dahlia learned the hard way that the clothes might not actually be hers and might have been stolen off someone else’s back.

  Wane Property Management had managed the New York portfolio of properties purchased by the king and queen of Zamibia, Kofi’s parents. The portfolio of buildings hadn’t simply been purchased to establish wealth. They financed university scholarships for deserving Zamibian students who wanted to study in the U.S.

  For the first couple of years, the Karunzikas worked through an intermediary with Melanie Wane and covered the costs of tuition, lodging, and fees for fifty-five students and hoped to do the same for many more. But with the maintenance and repair expenses increasing, King Babatunde sent his son to inspect the properties and approve any necessary renovations to ensure the investment generated adequate revenue for many years to come.

  Dahlia had worked with Kofi from the first day he arrived. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when things changed between them, but from the beginning she’d been attracted to the prince and noticed everything about him, from his elegant way of speaking, to the immaculate way he dressed, to his well-formed features. Their affair only lasted a few months but did have a profound effect on her.

  Dahlia closed her eyes, tightened her fingers around the warm cup of tea, and shu
ddered when she recalled how he’d taken her against the wall in her office. She never considered saying no to him—not then, nor when he’d invited her back to his hotel suite.

  Dahlia tossed the rest of the tea in the sink and rinsed out the cup. She turned out the light and crept to the front door. The guards were still in the hall, neither as tall as Abdalla, but with the same stoic, hard-jawed expressions. These men were the best of the best Zamibia had to offer. They wouldn’t move. They would give their lives to protect their prince and now had been charged with protecting his heir. If Kofi instructed them to stand there unmoving for a week, they would.

  Dahlia trudged back to the room, her heart heavy when she recalled the dramatic way she and Kofi ended their affair three years ago. Melanie had been stealing money from the Karunzikas for quite some time. She created fake companies and prepared bogus invoices to bill the Karunzikas for work that was never done—to the tune of almost a million dollars.

  She’d been sickened when she learned about the theft and alarmed when Kofi accused her of being a party to it. She understood his initial distrust. After all, she was Melanie’s partner, but she concentrated on growing the business through PR and marketing, and naively let Melanie manage the finances. To this day, she kicked herself for not paying closer attention. Unfortunately, nothing she said dissuaded Kofi from his train of thought.

  Dahlia looked down at Noel, sleeping peacefully, unaware of how important he was and how much his life would change in a little more than a week.

  She never saw Kofi after the night he accused her of the theft. Through his intermediary, he demanded they shut down the business. She learned later that he replenished the stolen funds himself, but he’d been furious, and she never understood why he didn’t turn them in to the police.

  When Dahlia found out she was pregnant, she took a leap of faith and called, only to learn that he was married—a mere two months after she’d last seen him. According to Kemal, he’d been engaged for a couple of years.

  Not once did she suspect a woman waited at home for him. It destroyed her. What little hope she’d carried of a reconciliation died that day.