The Sheikh's Wedding Contract. Andie Brock

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ want her to go. Not yet. Not at all. ‘We haven’t finished our conversation yet.’

      ‘I believe we have.’ Nadia gave him a barely audible sniff, but did sit back down in her seat.

      ‘I may have a proposition to put to you.’

      ‘What sort of proposition?’ She crossed one leg over the other and, lacing her fingers, rested her chin lightly on them as she coolly surveyed him. Zayed was struck again by her astonishing poise.

      ‘Well, as I understand it, you came here with the intention of persuading me to marry you. It might surprise you to know that I am considering the idea.’

      He paused, scanning her face for the expected surprise, astonishment even. But it wasn’t there. Just the calm, composed regard. She arched perfectly shaped eyebrows to indicate that he should continue.

      ‘As I am the sheikh of Gazbiyaa you will understand that it is expected that I should take a wife.’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘And in my case, probably the sooner the better.’ He gave a small frown, acutely aware that Nadia was analysing every word, watching every movement of his facial muscles. ‘There are certain misconceptions about me, rumours about my past. I need to dispel them. I believe a swift marriage would do that.’

      ‘I see.’ Her clipped replies were beginning to get on his nerves. It was starting to feel as if he was in the dock and she was waiting for his testimony. Well, she wasn’t getting one. His past was his business and he certainly didn’t have to justify it to her. He hardened his voice.

      ‘Securing stability for the kingdom is of paramount importance right now. These are difficult times. I have to show the people that they can put their faith in me, that I am totally committed to the role of sheikh and can be trusted to rule this country skilfully and fairly. I will do anything within my power to achieve this.’

      ‘And that includes getting married?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘To me?’

      ‘Yes. Theoretically.’ He could hardly believe he was saying this.

      ‘So you are saying that as your wife I would be helping you to bring peace and stability to Gazbiyaa?’

      ‘Well, indirectly, yes, I suppose I am.’

      Finally the icy reserve had cracked and the glow of excitement that shone through the widening fissure seemed to light her from within, highlighting her body, gently flushing her pale cheeks and dancing in her eyes. God, she was beautiful.

      Though the fact that it was only the idea of being able to do something to help the kingdom that had produced this alchemic change rather than any pretence that he himself might be quite a catch wasn’t lost on him. In fact he was annoyed to feel a physical kick to his pride. He wasn’t used to such indifference from members of the opposite sex.

      ‘And I would be treated as your equal? Have my opinions listened to?’

      ‘I don’t imagine for one moment that I would be able to stop you.’ Wasn’t that the truth? He dimly registered that she was cross-examining him again when it should have been the other way round. But her enthusiasm was infectious, seductive. Downright sexy. Something, a gut reaction perhaps, told him that this could work.

      And he was used to trusting his gut instinct. It rarely let him down in business, helping him to secure the lucrative deals that his competitors wouldn’t touch and, equally important, steering him away from the disasters that looked so tempting on paper.

      Could this be described as a business deal? If so it was certainly an unusual one. But if he was being honest, it wasn’t so much his gut that was making this decision as another, lower part of his anatomy. He shifted in his seat.

      ‘The way I see it, a marriage between the two us could prove to be mutually beneficial. I would be saving you from an unsavoury union and, in return, you would be helping me to restore the confidence of the people of Gazbiyaa. Showing them that they can put their trust in me, that I am an honourable man. Call it a contract between us, if you like.’

      ‘A contract?’

      ‘Yes. A wedding contract.’

      He watched as Nadia assimilated this information, the elegant sweep of her neck as she turned slightly to one side to think, her concentration showing in the way she nipped one side of her full bottom lip with small white teeth.

      The room was quiet apart from the low tick of a clock somewhere in the shadows and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

      Finally she turned back to face him, her direct gaze meeting his full on.

      ‘In that case I accept your proposal.’ Her wide eyes held his with their unblinking clarity. ‘I will agree to marry you.’

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘WE ARE FINISHED, miss.’ Finally satisfied, the leader of the fluttering team of female attendants stood back so that they could all admire their handiwork.

      There was an expectant pause as they waited for her to turn and look at her reflection in the enormous, gilt-framed mirror behind her, but Nadia hesitated, needing a second to hold back the nerves that were clawing at her throat. She knew that once she actually saw herself, bedecked and bejewelled in preparation for the ceremony, there would be no hiding from the fact that this was actually going to happen. She was about to marry Sheikh Zayed Al Afzal.

      It had all been arranged with such dizzying speed. No sooner had she agreed to Zayed’s wedding contract than she had found herself being led down a series of echoing corridors to break the joyous news to his father. Except of course it wasn’t joyous news; it was a purely practical arrangement. The very use of the word contract had made that perfectly clear and she hated it. But she was hardly in a position to be demanding hearts and flowers, no matter how much, privately, she might have loved them. After all, she was the one with the guilty secret, the one who was so deviously deceiving him. After the wedding she was going to have to confess to him who she really was—none other than Princess Nadia of Harith. And the very thought of that made the heavy knot of anxiety in her stomach start to unfurl and twist around inside her like a venomous snake.

      So far no one had suspected anything. Zayed’s father, Ghalib Al Afzal, had asked no questions of her when Zayed had presented her to him as his intended wife. In fact he had barely looked at her, giving her no more than a cold, cursory glance before nodding briefly at his son to acknowledge that he was at last doing something to address his flawed image. But for all his surly rudeness Nadia saw an old man obviously grieving the loss of his wife.

      For his part, Zayed had just assumed that she was from Gazbiyaa and Nadia had tacitly kept it that way. She was helped by the fact that few people in the wider world knew she existed, let alone what she looked like. Her father had kept her hidden away, like a valuable possession to be used for bartering purposes only, to be sold for the most advantageous gain. At the time she had hated it, riled against it, despising the way she was treated and infuriating her father by turning down his choice of suitors. But now her anonymity worked in her favour.

      At Nadia’s insistence, the wedding invitations had been kept deliberately vague. With so many other things СКАЧАТЬ