The Sheikh's Reluctant Bride

“There won’t be more scandal?” she asked.

“My public relations staff will issue appropriate statements. But—”

“What?”

“If I could prevail upon you to play the part of my wife—only in public,” he added, “until any hint of scandal has faded away. You would have my gratitude. And although my family has caused you some distress, they would be forever in your debt as well. And in the meantime, I will give you every possible assistance in meeting your family.”

Family. It’s why she’d come halfway around the world. Because she’d had no one after her mother died, she’d always longed to have the problems with relatives that others moaned about. She would cherish interference, being judged and unwanted advice if she gained unconditional love.

“It’s a deal,” she agreed. “As long as no one expects me to produce children.”

His only response was a smile and a look that reminded her of a large hunting cat selecting his prey.

As the limousine drove past the colorful booths of the open marketplace and continued toward the heart of Bha’Khar’s capital city, Jessica stared out the window shaking her head.

“Something is not to your liking?” Kardahl asked.

“Everything is fine.”

And that was an understatement. True to his promise, he had shown her to her own room and she’d spent the night—alone—in the most beautiful bedroom she’d ever seen with a closet as big as her whole apartment in L.A. The bed was so high, she’d half expected her nose to bleed. The bathroom vanity was marble and all the fixtures were gold. After a pleasant breakfast, Kardahl had told her his staff was contacting her family and while they were waiting for a response he offered to take her on a tour of the city. It was very sweet, but probably part of his scandal-suppressing charade. And she was okay with that.

What saddened her in a soul-deep way was that this lovely, graceful city with its white and pink stucco buildings and red-tile roofs had been her mother’s birthplace and Jessica had never known. It was part of who she was and made her feel as if pieces of her heart were missing.

“Tell me what troubles you,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

The gentleness got her. That and the fact that he’d read her so right and wouldn’t let her brush him off. “I can’t believe that my mother never talked about her country and her family.”

“It must have been a bitterly unhappy time for her.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It is a reasonable assumption. One tries to forget unhappy times. Talking of them would simply keep the pain fresh. In addition, the burden would be heavy enough without weighing down a child.”

So he thought her mother was protecting her. He looked sincere and it made sense, 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.”