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Oh, wow!
It looked—sensational.
The dress fitted her like a second skin, moulding itself perfectly to every dip, every curve, while its exquisite lines spoke elegance. She looked instantly taller, more regal. But if it looked fantastic, it felt even better. Even in this hurried try-on state, without make-up or her hair done properly, the dress felt superb.
More than that, it felt right.
Her teeth found her lip again. It did feel right. Just as making love with Khaled in the desert tent had felt so perfect, as if they were destined to be forever.
Maybe this wedding was preordained too. Maybe it was written in the stars and all she’d had to do was to say yes. Had Khaled felt that all along? Was that why he’d concocted his plan to lure her to his desert kingdom and win her heart?
A bubble of laughter welled up inside her and in her excitement she couldn’t hold it back. Neither that nor the mistiness that suddenly filled her eyes. Her hands flew to her mouth as the sheer craziness of what was happening hit home.
Yesterday she hadn’t thought it possible. There’d been no way she would have contemplated marriage, despite the attraction growing between them. But yesterday she’d known nothing of his love for her and she’d had even less idea of her own love for him.
She turned this way and that in the mirror, allowing herself one final appraisal. She’d never thought herself a fairy-tale princess, but she sure felt like it in this dress. The only things missing were her veil, a bouquet of fresh flowers—and a handsome prince.
Although she had one of those just waiting for her call.
All she had to do was pick up the phone.
Then he would be here. And she wouldn’t even have to tell him—one look at her in the wedding dress and he would have his answer.
She picked up the phone next to her bed and dialled.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TEN minutes, Saleem had told her, Khaled would be along then. Meanwhile he’d seemed more interested in whether or not Azizah had shown up yet.
Deflated and suddenly filled with nervous tension, she paced the room, wanting something to stop her thinking. Now she’d made up her mind, the last thing she wanted was more time to think.
Her eyes fell upon the letter where she’d discarded it on the bed and gratefully she scooped it up. It would serve as a distraction, at least for a minute or two. She tore it open and unfolded the pages as she walked back into the study to wait for Khaled, recognising the handwriting instantly.
Paolo’s handwriting.
She wasn’t sure whether to be delighted or sad. It was the first letter she’d received from him in all the time she’d been here. Why would he be writing now, unless he was wanting to make amends? She began to read.
Dearest Sapphy,
I realise you may not want to hear from me right now but I could not leave things the unsatisfactory way they were left when last we spoke. For one thing I know I owe you an apology and an explanation and for another, while it may seem melodramatic to you, I continue to fear for your welfare while you are in Jebbai.
Her lips tightened and she rubbed her forehead. If Paolo was going to wheel out another bitter diatribe as to why she should not stay in Jebbai it was going to fall on deaf ears. Paolo obviously had a problem with Khaled knowing of his secret marriage. Khaled must have threatened to reveal the secret long ago—nothing else would explain why Paolo hated him so much and wished her to have nothing to do with him. But she knew the truth now and he would just have to accept that he had made a mistake by not telling her. Their whole relationship had been based on a lie.
I realise I owe you a huge apology. I am forever sorry that I was not the one to tell you of my marriage when I had the chance. I am so afraid the promise that I made back then to keep my marriage to Helene a secret has destroyed any chance of friendship between us in the future. But then, how could I have told you? I was too scared of losing you although I wish I’d found a way, as I fear you must now hate me.
But whatever you think of me, you have to know the truth, now more than ever.
The circumstances of
our marriage were unconventional to say the least. More relevant to you, though, my marriage was to a woman promised by her family and against her will to another and for that he swore that one day he would have his revenge against me, promising that he would one day steal any woman I intended to marry. And that is why, more than anything, I fear for your safety.
That man was Khaled.
Khaled? Revenge? Her gut clenched and cold tremors assailed her as the impact of Paolo’s words hit home. With not a thought to the prospect of creasing the dress, she let herself collapse into an armchair.
So Paolo had married the woman intended for Khaled—no wonder he had a vested interest in revealing Paolo’s secret.
But as to his suggestion that Khaled had chosen her because of her links with Paolo…It was crazy. They had never been officially betrothed—unless he had believed the speculation the magazines and gossip columns had spouted…that a link between successful international lawyer, Paolo Mancini, and up and-coming fashion designer, Sapphy Clemenger, was inevitable.
