The Sheikh's Reluctant Bride. Teresa Southwick
although she hadn’t expected such a depth of understanding from a man with his reputation for superficiality.
She smiled at him. “Whether or not you’re right, I find that very comforting.” When his cell phone rang, she looked out the window at the Arabian Sea. The sparkling blue expanse disappeared as they drove down a narrow street with fashionable shops on both sides.
He folded shut his phone and said, “That was my secretary.”
He looked at her. “I waited until your arrival to confirm a visit to your family.”
“When can I meet them?” she asked eagerly. “I don’t know much about them.”
“You have two aunts—”
“My mother had two sisters?” Duh. He’d just told her as much. What she’d meant was, she’d always wanted a sister, or a brother. She’d desperately wished for someone so she wouldn’t be alone. Her mother had sisters and she’d walked away from that, never looking back. Why?
“One of your aunts,” he continued, “is married to the ruler of Bha’Khar’s desert people. The other is a doctor who lives in a city to the north of the capital. I have arranged for you to meet them both.”
“That would be wonderful.” She was almost afraid to ask. “And my grandparents?”
“They are on an extended diplomatic assignment at the request of the foreign service minister. They’ve been informed of your arrival and will return as soon as possible.”
“I see.” She sighed.
He frowned. “What is it?”
“I’m disappointed that I have to wait,” she admitted. “I’d hoped to spend as much time as possible getting to know them before I have to return to my job.”
“Can you not extend your leave of absence?”
“I suppose I’ll have to, but I hate to do that to the kids.”
“They are not being cared for while you are gone?”
“It’s not that simple. Getting kids to trust when they’ve lost everyone isn’t easy.” She knew from personal experience. In fact, she still never let herself believe in anyone with her whole heart. “It’s a leave of absence for me, but to them it’s one more rejection. One more person who abandoned them.”
“They must learn not to put their trust in a single person,” he said. “It is a lesson that will serve them well. Would they not be better off without you?”
She shook her head. “Everybody needs somebody sometime. If they don’t engage emotionally, they become isolated and antisocial.”
“Is not detachment more uncomplicated?”
She stared at him. “This from a man who attaches himself to anything in a skirt—” She pressed her lips together and sighed. “Never mind.”
“Do not misunderstand. I have great admiration for your devotion and the conviction that you can make a difference.” His tone said it was a waste of time.
“The world would be in sadder shape than it already is if no one tried.”
“I wish you luck in your efforts.”
This attitude was what she’d expected based on what she’d read about him. And if not for his insight moments ago she never would have questioned it. But she wondered how he could be so understanding and so jaded at the same time.
She was about to ask when she glanced out the window and realized they’d stopped. “Is the tour over?”
His smile was mysterious. “Yes. And now I have a surprise.” When the driver opened the door, Kardahl slid out, then held a hand out for her. She took it and he closed his fingers around hers, drawing her to her feet on the sidewalk in front of a dress shop. Then he slipped her hand into the bend of his arm and said, “Come with me.”
Inside, the perimeter of the store was lined with women’s clothes—dresses, suits, full-length gowns. If one couldn’t have a fairy godmother with a magic wand, shopping was the next best thing. But there was nothing magic about her budget and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t withstand the prices in this place.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
Before he could answer, a saleswoman appeared, smiling broadly when she recognized Kardahl. “Your Highness, I was delighted when you called. Please give the queen my regards. As you can see, I have canceled all other appointments and closed to the public as you requested. So this is your wife?”
“Jessica,” he said.
“She is quite lovely. My congratulations on your marriage.”
“Thank you,” he said, glancing down at her. “My wife is in need of some clothes. And there is a reception tomorrow night.”
“There is—” Jess stopped, not wanting to blow his cover. But it would be helpful if he didn’t spring stuff like that on her in public.
The next thing she knew, the woman had whipped out her tape measure and after taking measurements said, “She is a perfect size two. I have some lovely things that will be most flattering to Her Highness.”
Jess wasn’t anyone’s “Highness,” but she didn’t quite know how to phrase it even if she could persuade someone to listen. Not to mention outing their marriage for the sham it was. The woman bustled around the room plucking a sage-green suit, black silk slacks and several coordinating blouses before disappearing, presumably to a fitting room. When she returned, Kardahl pointed to a slender, black evening gown. “I wish to see her in this.”
The saleswoman smiled. “It is fortunate that the gown is her size. And Your Highness has excellent taste.”
As well he should, Jess thought. His Highness was a notorious flirt and playboy who no doubt had intimate experience sizing up women as he removed their clothes. The thought made her shiver and that was a problem. Jess’s mind was saying no, no, no, while her body grew more curious. And her heart was telling her she’d have to be six feet under to not salivate at the chance to at least try on these clothes. But how could she tell the woman she was wasting her time?
When she disappeared with the evening gown, Jess turned to Kardahl. “Listen up. This isn’t necessary. I don’t need anything. We both know the annulment is coming. And—”
“And until then, the world will be watching my wife. There is the matter of the reception tomorrow evening.” He smiled. “I saw your eyes light up as you looked at everything. It would please me to do this and the least I can do for the inconvenience imposed on you. At least try the things on. The woman would be disappointed if you do not.”
“So you’re playing the disappointment card again.” She sighed. “Is that a royal order?”
“Would you like it to be?”
She sighed. “Yes. It has to be wrong to defy a royal order.”
“Indeed,” he said.
She heard the smile in his voice as she turned away and left to find the saleswoman. Around the corner was a fitting room with the clothes she recognized hanging on various hooks. Jessica figured she was probably a spineless slug, but what the heck? She was stuck and might as well enjoy the experience.
Everything fit as if made for her and her female heart was full to bursting at the prospect of wearing such exquisite styles, such delicate, shiny fabrics that rustled when she moved. The saleswoman, Jasmine, bustled in and out, removing items as she brought in more. The black dress Kardahl had picked out was the last thing she tried on.
Jessica looked at herself in the full-length mirror and her eyes went wide. The neck was high and the sleeves long but the soft satin clung to every curve and revealed as much as it concealed. She turned and gasped at the flesh-baring back.
“It is perfect for