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She instantly knew what I meant, that was the incredible thing about her—and our friendship. She always knew me better than I knew myself. “The love? You felt that with Amir? No way!”
I held up a hand to block her enthusiasm, “No, I’m not sure—I just think—it was just weird—different from any other one-nighter I’ve ever had. It can’t be love though, right? I mean it was only one night.”
She grinned like a kid in a candy store with an unlimited budget. “You felt love—you felt it! Finally!” She lifted her hands skyward as if she were praising God.
I threw cold water all over her joy with my next statement. “I’m not seeing him again. I’ll get over it. It’ll pass. I’m flying home as planned—day after tomorrow. End of subject.”
Her sweet face fell. “But I was going to ask you to stay and live here with us. I need help with the new charity and with the baby coming, I can’t do it all on my own.”
I knew she was pregnant, as she had disclosed that little bit to me just before the ceremony. And I was happy for her and Omar, but I wouldn’t have been if the tables were turned. I didn’t want kids, nor did I want anything to do with someone else’s screaming, pooping baby.
I shook my head, “Generous offer, Anna, but no. I want to go home. I am not beholden to this nation like you are. They aren’t my people, and I want to start my real life. I’ve spent all of it, up to now—preparing for now. I finally get to start, and I’m not going to let anything stop me. Certainly not some odd chemical reaction I had to a one-night stand, and sorry girlfriend—you know you’re my best friend in the whole world, right?” She pouted, but did nod. “Not even for you. Sorry.”
Omar interrupted us when he strode in and announced, “Amir is joining us for a dinner at your favorite bistro, my love.” He turned to me with a sly grin, “And he has requested you join us.”
My knee-jerk reaction was to immediately decline, but he leveled this look at me that breeched no arguments. And, since he was the king and all, and since he’d just paid for my entire vacation, I could not say no. I sighed and put
on a fake smile, “Oh of course, Omar. I’d adore joining you.”
He rubbed his hands together, “Excellent. Be beautiful at six sharp. Not that you aren’t always.”
He went to Anna and petted a finger up her glowing cheek, “And you, my fertile bride, need only appear. Your radiance will overwhelm the entire room.”
I watched them like a train wreck, unable to tear my eyes away from their passionate display of love, and Omar’s incredibly affectionate intimacy with me sitting just a table away. I was jealous, and it was killing me. I wanted to be adored that way by a powerful man—I wanted to be the one who brought the King of an entire nation to his knees in that kind of reverent worship.
CHAPTER NINE
I dressed in a skin-tight royal blue strapless dress with a corset and push up bra underneath. My chest rippled and jiggled like I was Mae West. I also wore a pair of stilettos that Omar had paid for. These uber-expensive pumps were four inches of pure hell, but man did they make my body look great. I was popping out all over the place, and I felt sexy as hell.
When we arrived at the restaurant, I immediately spotted Amir and his men at the entrance. I supposed they were waiting for us, which made no sense to me. When I exited the limo and looked up, I saw Amir’s face masked with such intense admiration, I was blown over. It was as if I could feel his emotions—they hit me that hard! He strode to us and offered me his hand, which I took. Under my breath I said, “Amir, nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, princess. You are stunning.”
I nodded my acceptance of his compliment, and then we all went in and were seated in a plush booth sectioned off from the main restaurant. I was surprised Amir didn’t request I sit next to him, instead he put me on the other side, facing him. We were so far apart, I couldn’t even reach him with my foot under the table. His demeanor changed, and he suddenly seemed as cool and aloof as I’d been feeling up until seeing his face through the tinted glass of the limo.
I was never asked what I wanted—Omar waved his hand and set a raft of waiters and sommeliers into a frenzy of action. I sipped at the wine set before me and then gazed over at Amir. His smoldering regard was on me, but he still felt off to me—nothing like that first glance when we arrived. I suddenly wondered if I’d angered him in some way. Soon, he and Omar were talking, and within moments I felt invisible—or worse, ignored.
Then I reminded myself I couldn’t continue an affair with him, and it was better if I shut down the slow simmer I’d felt when his golden eyes roamed over my body. I did try to shut it down, but it wasn’t working, and the longer he ignored me, the more furious I became. Well, correction, furious and then confused, and by the time the entrée arrived, I felt like crying again. Amir still hadn’t looked at me or acknowledged I was sitting just a few feet away.
I pecked at the scrumptious meal, thinking I should have been stuffing my face, but I couldn’t shake the feeling as if I’d just lost my closest friend.
Knock it off, you idiot! You hardly know him. Like, you don’t know him. Not at all. He must have decided I was right, and that we aren’t good for each other.
As the meal went on, I became more and more despondent, and I began asking for refills on the wine. When I quietly excused myself to stagger to the ladies’ room, I felt as if I could disappear and no one would notice. I freshened up and didn’t immediately go to our table. Instead, I wandered to the outside viewing area and leaned against the railing, taking in the briny air of the nearby ocean. Again I felt like crying, and I couldn’t shake it. The odd part is that I am not a crier—in fact, I just don’t—EVER!
Amir’s deep, masculine voice startled me, “Why did you leave?”
My tone was way too flippant. “I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“Ahhh, I see.”
“What Amir? What do you see?” I snapped.
He leaned on an elbow near me, but at a respectable distance.
“You seek to have it both ways. You wish to have my undying admiration and lust, but you, female, will not reciprocate. Was it not you that said what we shared was nothing more than a—thing?”
I felt my chin quiver. I couldn’t really argue with him. I had said that. “Yeah, but…”
