The Sheikh's Stolen Bride(12)

“Zahir?”

Ash nodded. “He was born to rule.”

“I think you have that quality in abundance.”

His smile was an acknowledgment. “Perhaps. I have a great many duties within the Kingdom. It works.”

“I’m surprised there’s no disenchantment between you.”

“We are close,” he said softly. “Very much like brothers.”

“Which will make me your sister, more or less, once I’m married.”

Ash’s laugh was a soft whisper against her cheeks. “You have changed the subject very skilfully, azeezi.”

“Apparently not,” she contradicted, lifting a piece of fish into her mouth. It was mouth wateringly delicious. The combination of spices with the natural smokiness of the fish practically made her moan.

“You were about to tell me of your rule breaking?”

She lifted a finger towards her lips, indicating her full mouth, and shrugging with mock apology.

“I’ll wait.”

She glared at him, finished chewing and reached, slowly, purposefully delaying, for her drink. She sipped it, her eyes locking to his. She saw laughter in them and it warmed her up.

“So?” He prompted, relaxing his chin on his interlocked fingers.

“Yesterday isn’t going to cover me, too?”

His eyes flared and he leaned further across the table. “Nothing about what happened yesterday was your fault, Charlotte.”

“How do you figure?” She arched a brow. “Wasn’t I there with you?”

“I should have known better. That situation was my doing.”

Her mouth suddenly felt filled with saw dust. “Let’s not rehash it,” she said softly, the words weakened by the intensity of her emotions.

“If you wish.”

Charlotte pushed her fork into the fish and then put it down again. The problem was, she wanted to rehash it, badly. As in to live it over and over again, in real time. To be back in that moment, when anything had seemed possible.

“Are you pretending you are not perfect? To make me feel better?”

She shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Well, I’m pretty great now,” she grinned. “And seriously? You feel bad?”

“No.” He agreed with an arrogant shrug.

“What is this imperfection you are hesitating to share with me?”

She bit down on her lip. Why was she hesitating? It was a part of her past. Admittedly, one her parents had gone to lengths to keep secret.

“There was a scandal, when I was younger.”

He paused, his heart pounding. He sat on tenterhooks, waiting for her to reveal something that might satisfy Syed’s requirements, and free her for Ashad.

He nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.

“I was only sixteen.” Charlotte shook her head. His eyes were drawn to her face. The style was severe, even with the loosened tendrils of hair. Yet it simply served to accentuate her bone structure, making him see how stunning she was. Her beauty was, indeed, rare.

“And?” He murmured encouragingly, waiting, waiting, waiting.

“I thought I knew everything.”

“Like most sixteen year olds,” he prompted.

Her smile was tight on her face. “I suppose. But I had far more to risk, you see. I was out of the media embargo. My photo was taken wherever I went. I suppose that’s how it started?”

He arched a brow, thoughtfully.

“I met a man.” She swallowed, turning her head, focussing on the glorious view of the gardens that surrounded the Kalastani embassy.

Ash was very still, every fibre of his being concentrated on Charlotte and the story she was telling with an air of necessity.

“He was older.”

“How much older?”

She smiled, but it was a reflex, something she did when distracted. “He was thirty-five.”

“And you were sixteen,” Ash murmured, moving a hand beneath the table so she wouldn’t see the fist he was making.

Charlotte nodded. “I loved him. I thought I did, anyway.” She grimaced.

“And it didn’t work out.”

“It was fake. All of it.” She sipped her champagne, but even the bubbles as they glided down her throat couldn’t calm the raging torrent of memories. “He’d read everything about me, stalked me, turned himself into my perfect man.” She shook her head. “I had no idea.”

Ashad’s fist pumped. His temper was spiking. “Until?”

“Yes, yes. That sort of thing has a way of coming out, doesn’t it? I surprised him at his house one evening. He had walls filled with my photograph, going back years.” She shivered, the truth of that night making it hard to breathe for a moment. “It was … terrifying.” She hadn’t had a panic attack in years; she wouldn’t have one now. She inhaled slowly, counting to three.

“It was just as well you discovered the truth before it was too late.”

“Too late?” She whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’d been seeing him for months.” She could smell Marook. She could feel him. His heavy body, so strong, so insistent. “It was too late.”

Ashad stood, scraping the chair back, and moved towards the railing. He gripped it for a moment, his breath burning through his lungs, his mind turning over this information. So she’d slept with him, this man who’d targeted her. Was that it?

He turned slowly, and instantly regretted his hasty reaction. Charlotte was ashamed. It was an unmistakable emotion, playing across her features.

“See?” She whispered, not meeting his eyes. “I’m anything but perfect.”

A need to kiss away those doubts assaulted him from every angle. His body was taut, his mind heavy with the war it was waging with his heart and body.

“Falling for the wrong person doesn’t invalidate perfection,” he said quietly.

Her eyes lifted, holding his for a brief, electric moment before skidding away sharply. He didn’t know the truth.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Who?” Ashad stared at her in confusion.

“Syed.” Her cheeks flushed. “I’m sure he has certain … expectations … about me. That will obviously be … disappointed.”

Ash’s gut rolled. Hell. He hadn’t even thought of Syed! It would be the perfect kernel of information to spill to release his cousin from the betrothal. Or would it? Adin was no fool. He didn’t expect people in this day and age to stand true to virtues and societal standards that had been in play decades earlier. And the matter had been hushed up successfully, kept out of the media’s eye. There was no need for anyone to know.

“No,” he said, shaking his head from side to side slowly. “I’m not.”

“Why not?” She asked, her surprise obvious.

“Because what you have just told me has no bearing on the kind of wife you will be. It is irrelevant to your marriage. And because no one should be punished for innocent mistakes made many years in the past.”



* * *



Ashad placed the lid on his pen carefully, a grim sense of reality adding urgency to his question. “Can you cancel your afternoon’s plans?”

Charlotte startled. Not because his words were in any way offensive or remarkable, but because she had been on tenterhooks since arriving at the embassy hours earlier. The idea of spending more time with Ashad, talking, looking, laughing, and not touching, was impossible to contemplate.

“No, I have to go,” she said with an attempt at sounding apologetic.

He didn’t argue, though watching her walk away – again – was something he wished to avoid. “Fine. Tomorrow morning?”

“What about it?” She asked cautiously.

“Will you meet me?”

“I … we’re almost done, aren’t we?”

“This isn’t about the wedding,” he said quietly.

“Oh.” She blinked down at the notes they’d made, detailing many aspects of the marriage that lay ahead of her. “I don’t think …”

“Think of it as getting to know your groom’s family,” he added.

“Ashad.” A warning, but her eyes met his and her desire to say yes was patently obvious.

“One morning, azeezi.”

“Danger can find purchase in one minute, let alone one morning,” she murmured.

“True.” He grinned. “Just as well we’re both risk-taking law-breakers then.”

“Ashad … this is … not appropriate.” Her cheeks coloured.

Ash couldn’t help but agree. If Charlotte only knew that Syed had no interest in marrying her! Perhaps then she’d feel differently. “Is that a ‘no’?”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth and stared at him. She shook her head and her eyes were beseeching, begging, hoping that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake in her life.

“Fine. Where?”

He expelled a sigh of relief. “Meet me downstairs from your apartment. Seven o’clock.”





CHAPTER SIX



Adin sounded better than he had in a long time, but he still had to break the call to pause and cough.

“Sorry, my child. Please, continue.”

“Uncle, you know I have the greatest respect for you.”

Adin’s laugh was cackled. “Yes, yes. What do you need?”

“It’s not what I need, sir.”

Adin coughed again. “Is there a problem in Falina?”