The Sheikh's Contract Bride. Teresa Southwick
the top of his list. While her romantic parts quivered with enthusiasm, her rational parts struggled to prevail.
“Malik, I have no doubt that you’re a perfectly nice man. It was not my intention to insult you, and I apologize if I have.”
“Your misgivings are understandable.”
She wasn’t sure if his easygoing manner made the situation better or worse. Although he was very attractive and charming, she had no reason to believe he was any different from the man who had discarded her in favor of his already chosen, politically correct wife. If anything, Malik was more powerful, and therefore more dangerous.
If it was up to her, she would tell this sheikh to take a flying leap. But it was Addie’s choice. And, because her sister was choosing a time out, Beth was there to make sure she had it. In that spirit, she needed to dial down her opposition. “Thank you for your patience, Malik.”
“You can repay me with patience of your own. Let us get to know each other. We will give it a chance and see what happens. Then if either of us has doubts we will choose an appropriate course of action.”
In essence, he was asking for a truce. It would make things easier if he was a jerk and she could tell him what to do with his engagement.
On the other hand, if Malik decided this arrangement didn’t work for him either, and called off the wedding, Addie would be off the hook and their father couldn’t hold it against her. So, truce it was.
She smiled. “How can I say no?”
Nine out of ten women would be overjoyed to be his betrothed, yet Malik found himself with number ten. Surprisingly, the idea did not rankle as he would have thought. Obedience was a pleasing characteristic in a woman, but after meeting Beth he realized a fawning fiancée would be boring.
He was most curious about this lovely, stubborn young woman who challenged him at every turn. When she’d called him a powerful man, the edge in her voice had warned him it was not a compliment. Oddly enough, he was looking forward to this courtship, to the opportunity for changing her mind about him and discovering the source of her misgivings about marriage.
Malik walked into his dining room and touched the control that lowered the chandelier illumination to a romantic glow. Then he lit the candles on either side of the fragrant flower arrangement gracing the table. He had a bottle of the finest champagne cooling in a silver bucket and crystal flutes waited expectantly, as did he.
Beth would be here any moment, and the dance of learning about each other would continue. Excitement hummed through him, and he realized he had not experienced such a level of anticipation in longer than he could remember. Of course, it had been a long time since he had met such a fascinating woman. The last time it had happened he had been fooled. It was comforting and convenient to know there was no chance of repeating the same mistake with his betrothed.
He checked his appearance in the beveled gilt mirror in his suite’s circular entryway. Every hair was in place, and he’d shaved a short while before—in case he kissed her, which he very much wanted to do. His silk shirt, open at the collar, and his dark pants evoked just the right informal tone, which was important, as he wished to put her at ease.
He heard a knock, so soft it would not have been audible had he not been standing near the door. Beth stood in the doorway, a vision of heaven in a high-necked, sleeveless white linen dress with a wide black belt that drew his attention to her small waist. It was a simple, elegant look, full of sophistication. The allure was in what he could not see as much as in what he could. Then he met her gaze and noticed the wariness in her large eyes—brown eyes, filled with flecks of gold.
He bowed slightly. “Good evening, Beth. Please come in.”
“Thank you.”
As she passed him, her subtle floral fragrance filled his head with visions that had nothing to do with gardens and everything to do with twisted sheets and bare flesh. Instead of entering, she stood and looked around. Of course she would be curious.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said. “This is where we shall live after we are married.”
“About the whole marriage thing—”
“Beth.”
She turned to look at him. “What?”
“You promised to give it a chance,” he reminded her.
“Promise may not be the right word. As I recall, my exact words were ‘How can I say no?’”
He grinned. “Nevertheless, your response implied your agreement for us to get to know each other. In the spirit of that, I would request that for the duration of the evening you refrain from any negative references to a state of marriage between us.”
“Is that a proclamation?”
“It is a heartfelt plea. And, under the circumstances, it is quite open-minded of me.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, as he’d hoped they would. “So, Your Highness, can we talk about your humility?”
“Of course.” He held out a hand and indicated the French doors off the living room. “Wait for me on the terrace and I will bring champagne.”
“Is that an order?”
He did not miss the wary expression on her face, or the edge in her voice. Clearly she was expecting him to seduce her. It was a tempting thought, but that was not his plan. Not yet. No, tonight was all about charming her. There was a full moon, a warm breeze, and the fragrance of jasmine mixed with the scent of the sea. Mother Nature would wrap them in romance.
“Not an order. A suggestion. I simply thought you would enjoy the view and the fresh air.”
“I see.” Without further protest or a backward glance she walked through the living room and onto the terrace.
Malik opened the champagne and poured golden liquid into flutes, then carried them outside. He handed one to Beth.
“To what shall we drink?” he asked.
After thinking for a moment she said, “Loyalty.”
That seemed an odd choice, but with his own painful lesson fresh in his mind he highly approved of her toast. “And honesty.”
As they touched glasses, a musical tinkle sounded. Then Beth sipped from her flute as she gazed out over the sea. The moon’s light created a silver path on the water, and the rhythmic cadence of the surf on the shore drifted up.
“Great view,” she said.
“Yes.” But his gaze was not on the sea. Malik was wondering if there was a more beautiful sight in the world than Beth by moonlight. And if his thoughts continued in that manner he was not at all certain he could resist her. “So, tell me more about yourself,” he said, studying the long, graceful column of her neck revealed by her upswept hair.
The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me what happened to make you believe that love is not all it is cracked up to be.”
“Oh, you don’t really want to know about that.”
“On the contrary. I believe it is at the heart of your resistance to marriage.” Sipping from his glass, he studied her as she weighed his request.
“All right. There was a man. I met him when I was in college and there was an instant connection.”
“You are in love with this man?” The idea produced a knot of resentment in him that seemed out of proportion to the amount of time he had known her, and that vexed him.
“Not anymore.”
“But you were?”
“I thought I was.”
“What happened?”
“He made me believe I was the only woman for him. Then he