Page 38 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

Yes, I think she is.

There are only a few customers in the boutique, and I don’t need anyone to explain why.

I took out my phone and converted the price tags into Rheadur’s currency. I had to sit down for a moment, unable to believe that something made of fabric could cost that much.

Jazmina doesn’t seem shocked by the prices, probably because she’s used to shopping in Paris, but to me, this feels like stepping into another world entirely.

“Thank you,” I answer with a smile. “You weren’t rude at all.”

I’ve been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to try going out without my headscarf, thinking about what Kaled said yesterday: that I should have the right to choose whether to wear it or not.

Here in Paris, maybe. But in Rheadur, as long as Naim is officially sheikh, we don’t have that choice.

Still, a bold part of me I didn’t know existed whispers that I should wear my hair loose when I meet him tonight.

“Oh, thank God you speak English! I only realized after I came over that maybe you didn’t understand a word I’d said. I think that’s some kind of American flaw—we just assume the whole world speaks our language.”

My smile widens. I instantly like her. “I studied a little, but I think I understand better than I speak. My vocabulary is still small.”

“Sofia Lambertucci[30],” she says, extending her hand.

“Adeela Ghazal.”

“What a beautiful name!”

“Jazmina Faheem,” my friend adds, stepping closer and giving only her name without a title. I hadn’t noticed she’d come back to my side.

“What’s your scarf called?”

“This one is a hijab, but there are many styles and lengths.”

“Well, it’s gorgeous. It looks perfect on you. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jazmina and Adeela,” she says, offering her hand again.

“The pleasure was ours,” we reply almost in unison.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to run. I already found the shoes I wanted,” she says, lifting a shopping bag in her right hand, “but now I need lingerie to match. My husband’s arriving tonight, and I want to surprise him.”

She winks and walks out of the store without looking back, leaving Jazmina and me standing there for a few minutes, trying to process the whirlwind that just hit us and vanished just as quickly.

Chapter 19

Le Clarence Restaurant

Even though I wasn’t hungry, Jazmina insisted I eat something after the marathon it had been to find a dress that didn’t make me feel naked and matching high heels.

In the end, we settled on a dark blue one. It’s sleeveless, but I still find it modest, and we paired it with silver sandals.

We’re stepping into the restaurant restroom to wash our hands when the door suddenly swings open and I almost bump into the same pretty redhead we met at the store.

Sofia Lambertucci, I recall.

“Well, looks like fate, huh?” she says with a grin, and once again I’m struck by the beautiful green of her eyes. “I swear to God I’m not following you two.”

I shake my head. She’s amazing, but in a good way.

She said she was American. I wonder, are all women in America this friendly?

I think of my mother, who was born there and lived there until she married my father. Before he appeared in her life, stealing her youth and later discarding her, was she as free as the beautiful woman standing before me?