Free Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) by M.J. Schiller

them, the father ushered his other two guests into the house behind them, their twittering almost making speech impossible.
    Once inside the house’s walls, however, the older man addressed them sternly, “Girls!” But then he chuckled. “I cannot even hear what my guests are saying.”
    He turned to Tahj and Bashea now. He was short and round, with a snowy-white beard and white clothing with a wide, gold sash, his eyes quick and merry. “I am Faraz, and these are my daughters. Etti—” One of the girls, dressed in the same sort of flowing jumpsuit Bashea wore, stepped forward and curtsied. She had on one of the traditional veils and shiny, metal medallions glinted from all over her vibrant orange clothing; her bright eyes swept over Tahj appraisingly before she stepped back. “This is my next eldest, Dariya.” A second girl stepped forward wearing the same outfit in a pastel green, and the third, and youngest, daughter was introduced as Jessmyn. She was dressed in pink, and white sequins sparkled on her dress like grains of sand caught in the midday sun.
    Each of the girls dropped their eyes when curtsying, as was respectful, but as they rose they held Tahj’s gaze boldly. Bashea looked from them to the prince to gauge his reaction, but his face was unreadable. She felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to bristle and in turn became aggravated she was even aggravated at all. It was foolish. Of course the girls would admire Tahj, a young, handsome, eligible man. But did they have to be so obvious about it? They were practically throwing themselves at his feet.
    “And you are…?” their host asked.
    Tahj stepped forward. “I am Pr—”
    “Pravin,” Radeem corrected. “Pravin is my old friend.” Radeem clapped Tahj on the back heartily, making him stumble forward.
    Faraz’s shrewd eyes seemed to catch the lie, but he graciously accepted it as the truth. “Welcome, Pravin.”
    “And this,” Radeem added with a flourish, “is Bashea, Pravin’s espoused.” Both Bashea and Tahj cast him a look of surprise, but Radeem ignored them.
    The older gentleman took Bashea’s hand and kissed it while never taking his eyes from hers. “Bashea,” he said with an odd tenderness, “welcome to our home.” She curtsied.
    From the moment they entered the house, the fabulous smell of some kind of savory repast had tempted them. Radeem, who seemed to almost drool as he spoke, addressed their host. “But it seems we have interrupted a meal. We should go and perhaps come back another time.”
    “Nonsense. Nonsense,” Faraz answered. “There is plenty to share, isn’t there, girls?” The three bubbled in response. “You must stay and eat with us. We insist.”
    Radeem bowed with his palms pressed together in front of his chest. “We would be forever grateful, my friend.”
    “Perhaps you would care to wash up after your travels,” Faraz said tactfully, eying their soiled and bloodied clothing. “Pravin and your lovely Bashea, you shall have my room for the night.”
    “The night…?” Tahj began.
    “And you, my dear friend, will have the girls’ room.”
    There immediately seemed to be some infighting among the female trio, and from the snatches of whispers caught here and there, it was clearly evident they were fighting over who would share Radeem’s bed for the evening. After a few seconds, the father made a sharp sound and the squabbling stopped, the middle girl smiling victoriously while the other two looked, at first disappointed, and then hopefully, in Tahj’s direction. “Jessmyn, show Pravin and Bashea to their room.”
     
    “Our room?” Bashea questioned in a panic. Then, remembering they were supposed to be a couple, she added, “B-but we aren’t yet married—”
    Faraz winked. “We will keep your secret.”
    Bashea glanced at Tahj, who just shrugged, and she was forced to follow him across the room. As they walked past Radeem, the captain, seeming quite pleased with himself, slung