Chosen As The Sheikh's Royal Bride. Jennie Lucas

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СКАЧАТЬ about the opinion of someone who, as you say, doesn’t have a chance with the king. If you don’t, then who does?”

      She narrowed her eyes. “Do you promise you won’t tell the sheikh?”

      “Why would you care if I did?”

      “I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s chances.”

      He put his hand to his heart in a strangely old-fashioned gesture. “I promise I won’t repeat it to anyone.”

      She believed him.

      Reluctantly, she said, “The movie star is his obvious choice. She’s the most famous beauty on earth right now.”

      “You’re talking about Sia Lane?”

      “Yeah. It’s true she’s incredibly beautiful. And charming.” She paused. “She’s also just plain mean. She harassed the flight attendants for hours on the private jet from New York, just because they didn’t have the sparkling water she wanted. Then when we arrived at the hotel this morning, and the porter nearly dropped her designer suitcase, she threatened to destroy his whole family if she saw a single scratch. She’s the kind of person who would kick a dog.” She tilted her head. “Unless, of course, she believed the dog might be helpful to her career.”

      He snorted. “Go on.”

      Guilt made her pause. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She shook her head. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person. Perhaps I just caught her on a bad day.”

      His dark eyes gave nothing away. “If she’s the worst choice, who’s the best?”

      “Laila al-Abayyi,” she said instantly. The man looked oddly pained, but she continued eagerly, “Everyone loves her. She’s, like, Mother Teresa or something. And she’s from Samarqara, so she knows the language and culture—”

      “Who else?” he cut her off.

      Confused at his sharp reaction, Beth frowned. “Bere Akinwande is beautiful and kind and smart. She’d make a fantastic queen. And there are others. Though to be honest, I don’t know why any of these women would want to marry the king.”

      “Why?” he demanded.

      “Oh, I don’t know, because he’s the kind of man who set up something like this to find a wife?” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously. This whole thing is just one camera short of a reality show.”

      “It is not easy for a man in his position to find a worthy partner,” he said stiffly. He tilted his head. “Any more, I imagine, than it is easy for a lauded scientist such as yourself to take time from your important work to waste on the painful process of finding a husband the old-fashioned way.”

      Beth stared at him, disgruntled, then sighed as her shoulders relaxed. “You’re right. Who am I to judge? At least he’s paying us for our time. We’re not paying him. I should thank him,” she said cheerfully. “And I will, if I ever get the chance.”

      A voice came behind her.

      “Dr. Farraday? What are you doing out here? You’re needed in the ballroom.”

      One of the handlers was standing in the open doorway to the ballroom, impatiently motioning her inside. Then his eyes widened as he saw the stranger behind her. Glancing back, she saw the handsome stranger give a small shake of his head.

      “Forgive me, Dr. Farraday,” the handler’s voice changed strangely, “but if you’d be so kind as to return to the ballroom, we’d be very grateful.”

      “Well, well. It seems I finally get to meet His Highness.” Beth gave the handsome stranger a crooked grin. “Wish me luck.”

      Reaching out, he touched her bare shoulder. He looked into her eyes. His voice was deep and low, and made her shiver. “Good luck.”

      Beth’s knees went weak. Trying to act cool, she pulled away and said good-naturedly, “It doesn’t take luck to fail. I fail at everything. I’m a pro at it.”

      The man frowned, puzzled. And she remembered too late: Beth had failed. Edith hadn’t.

      “I mean—never mind. Bye.” Turning, she quickly followed the handler out of the garden.

      But as she went back into the hot, crowded ballroom, and saw the sheikh sitting on the dais, she wasn’t nervous anymore. She wasn’t thinking about the powerful king who’d moved heaven and earth to bring together the most accomplished women in the world, merely to choose a potential bride.

      Instead, Beth couldn’t stop picturing the handsome stranger who’d nearly brought her to her knees with a single touch, in the moonlit shadows of a chilly Parisian garden.

      * * *

      In the garden, Omar stared after her, still in shock.

      Was it possible that he’d just had an entire conversation with Dr. Edith Farraday without her realizing who he was?

      No, surely. She had to know.

      But if this was a come-on, at least it had novelty value. No woman had ever pretended not to know him before.

      He’d arrogantly assumed that every woman who’d agreed to come to the palais tonight wished to marry him. Was it possible one didn’t even know his identity? That she’d actually had so little interest in him that she hadn’t bothered to read newspapers, gossip magazines, or just look him up online? It seemed incredible.

      But his instincts told him that Dr. Edith Farraday hadn’t been pretending. She truly had no idea who Omar was.

      Just as he himself hadn’t known that Khalid was paying the twenty women to come to Paris. It made sense—as the potential brides his vizier had selected were all so famous and successful—that they could hardly be expected to toss their busy schedules aside, merely for the chance to become Omar’s queen. But still... It might have bruised a lesser man’s ego, to realize that the chance of marrying him hadn’t been enough to make women fly here from the Americas, Asia, Africa and Europe.

      Which was why Khalid hadn’t told him the details, obviously. He’d told his vizier to arrange it, and arrange it the man had. It was Khalid sitting in the ballroom of his Paris mansion right now, meeting each woman personally. His friend was the one who’d winnow the twenty down to the ten whom Omar would meet personally tomorrow.

      Khalid was the one who’d created the criteria for choosing the twenty potential brides, and arranged for them to be brought to Paris. When Omar had first seen the list that morning, he’d been surprised to discover how career-driven and ambitious the women were. But then, hadn’t he himself insisted the women must be brilliant to be his queen? Surely the woman he chose would be willing to give up her career, no matter how illustrious. What greater fate could any woman aspire to than becoming Queen of Samarqara?

      There had just been one name on the list that had immediately displeased him.

      “Why did you invite Laila al-Abayyi?” he’d demanded that morning. “I told you I cannot marry her.”

      “No,” his old friend said cheerfully. “You told me you’d only marry her if all our nobles СКАЧАТЬ