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The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(52)

By:Jane Porter




She blinked, her eyes suddenly burning, her chest feeling just as hot, her throat filled with the same gritty emotion. It would have been pointless to give up her college scholarship, her chance to play volleyball at a top ranked school for her father’s love. That would have been stupid. She wasn’t his favorite, not even close. Mandy was his girl. And the boys, they were his, too. But not asthmatic Tally with her serious brown hair and serious brown eyes and serious tortoise frame glasses she wore until she got contact lenses her sophomore year of high school.



Serious Tally—even as a killer athlete—was never Dad’s girl. Not even when she did everything exactly right.



Tally reached out, grasped a handful of the silk curtain, crushing the sheer panel in her palm. How pointless it had been to do everything right. How pointless to have given up her dreams to try to make his come true.



If only she’d been bad. If only she’d been more selfish. If only she’d learned to be tougher, harder sooner.



Her fingers tightened convulsively around the fabric, squishing it into a smaller ball of silk. Feelings weren’t good. Feelings, she knew, couldn’t be trusted.



Just like now.



Tally drew a deep breath, held the air bottled inside her lungs until the burning sensation left her eyes, until her throat ached for another breath, until she knew she’d gotten a handle on the tumultuous feelings.



Okay. Finally she exhaled and rose. Whatever she felt wasn’t going to influence her decisions. She was still going to leave here. Still going to have the adventures she wanted, adventures for one, not two. She wasn’t going to let anyone interfere with her dream for herself—least of all a desert bandit sheikh named Tair.



On the second day, eager to pass the time as well as put Tair from her mind, she agreed to visit the bath house with the ladies. She had a milk bath, which seemed odd, but the women convinced her it was good for her skin.



On the third day of Tair’s absence Tally permitted the ladies to henna her hands, her wrists and the soles of feet. It was a lengthy process but it took up one day and part of the next. The women giggled as the designs took shape and Tally had to admit she liked it. It was like getting a dramatic tattoo, but this one would eventually wear off.



That third night lying in bed Tally lifted one hand up, letting the moonlight illuminate the intricate patterns on her palms. It was really beautiful and she was glad she’d had it done. Even if she hated Tair.



Smile fading, Tally finally drifted off to sleep.



Tally’s mood took another dramatic turn when she woke to discover that Tair had returned in the night.



Leena, Tally’s attendant, brought the news along with the breakfast tray to Tally on her patio adjacent to her room. “His lordship is back,” Leena said, arranging the plate and cup and small pot of Turkish coffee. “He arrived with many men last night.”



Tally’s heart jumped. She felt a thrill of pleasure which quickly faded as she remembered how angry she was. She wasn’t going to have this kind of relationship with a man. She wouldn’t be a woman that just sat around and waited to be noticed. Waited to be remembered.



“That’s nice,” Tally said striving to sound indifferent even as she added sugar to her coffee. She wasn’t going to get excited about his return. She wasn’t. But as she carried the small cup to her lips her hand shook and the coffee was tasteless in her mouth.



Food was just as bad. Blah, bland, might as well be cotton or sawdust. And yet she forced herself to eat, forced herself to act nonchalant despite the wild beating of her heart.



She wasn’t entirely surprised when his shadow stretched on her sun-drenched patio. His huge shadow seemed nearly as big as that first day she met him in El Saroush. What a huge horrible man.



She’d never love him. She wouldn’t.



“Good morning,” Tair greeted, pulling a chair out but not immediately sitting.



She didn’t know what he expected. A kiss? A warm tender embrace?Hmph. He certainly wasn’t getting it. “You’re back,” she said coolly, somehow managing to hide her flurry of hope, hurt and nerves.



The corner of his mouth tugged and he sat down. “I didn’t die, no.”



Tally forced herself to take another bite of her sweet roll but it was nearly impossible to get it down, swallowing suddenly a skill she hadn’t mastered.



“Everything all right?” he asked, accepting a coffee from Leena.



“Just dandy.”



His lashes dropped, concealing his expression but not before Tally saw the gleam in his eyes. He was laughing. At her.