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‘Now, before we eat, you may change into something more appropriate…’ Shahir informed her.
‘Do I get to take off the crown?’
Vibrant amusement lit his eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘I know it’s an honour to wear one, but it’s hurting my neck.’
In a room down the corridor she was helped out of her ceremonial robe and shoes. She was astonished when a glorious white wedding dress was brought to her. The gown was a neat fit at breast and waist, accentuating her slender figure. A simple circlet of pearls was set on her head.
From the instant she reappeared and began moving down the room towards him Shahir’s smouldering dark golden eyes were welded to her. A heady pink lit her cheeks and her mouth ran dry.
‘You look amazing…you look as I dreamt you would look,’ he confessed in an appreciative aside.
The wedding banquet was served, but she had no appetite for food. After the meal she was formally introduced to courtiers and officials. She sa
w Faria with a man who appeared to be her husband, and it looked very much as though the couple were having a fight. At least Faria had a tight mouth and seemed to be talking through gritted teeth while her companion seemed to be trying to placate her.
‘That couple over there…who are they?’ Kirsten finally asked Shahir.
His bold, classic profile tensed. ‘My foster-sister and her husband.’
‘What do you mean…foster-sister?’
‘For several months her mother was my nurse after my own mother died in childbirth. In our society that relationship is viewed as the same as one formed by blood.’
Feeling as if she had hit the bullseye, Kirsten fixed her attention elsewhere. Her throat ached, for his tension and his every word had confirmed her suspicions. The exotic brunette was Faria, the woman he loved and could not have. Another man’s wife and his foster-sister. She felt gutted, and her eyes were stinging like mad.
Raza strolled up and bent his dark head towards them. ‘Have you been watching Faria? Do you remember how she always seemed to be all sweetness and light? What a shrew she’s turned out to be!’ he remarked with an exaggerated shudder. ‘Poor Najim. He’s an easygoing chap, and very clever, but he made a bad choice there. Watching Faria make a fool of him in public is enough to keep me single for ever!’
Kirsten’s dulled eyes took on a sparkle of renewed animation. There was nothing appealing about a shrew, was there? She did not dare to look at Shahir lest she reveal her less than charitable feelings. Instead she gave Raza a big sunny smile.
‘May I dance with the most beautiful bride ever to have entered this family?’ Raza asked her winningly, down on one knee, hand clasped to his heart in melodramatic fashion.
As Kirsten laughed in appreciation of his sense of humour, Shahir rose upright in one powerful movement. ‘Perhaps…after she has danced with me.’
His dark golden gaze shimmered over her flawless face and he extended a lean brown hand to lead her on to the floor. Suddenly she was very conscious of his raw masculinity and she lowered her eyes.
‘I know what is on your mind,’ Shahir murmured quietly. ‘We will discuss it—but not here. We’ll be leaving soon.’
Kirsten did not know how to dance in a formal way. She tripped over his feet and tried to head off in the wrong direction. The experience was sheer purgatory for her. Worse still, she was tormented by the conviction that he must have seen her staring at Faria. Had her interest been that obvious to him? Could he know what she had been thinking? The jealousy? The hatred? The evil thoughts? She really didn’t want Shahir to have an accurate take on what went on in her mind
‘You are a possessive husband,’ Raza told his elder brother with lively amusement as the bridal couple left the floor. ‘But on your wedding day I will forgive you.’
Rose petals and rice were scattered in front of Shahir and Kirsten as they walked out of the palace and got into a white limo adorned with streamers and flags.
‘Now for the embarrassing stuff,’ Shahir groaned, flashing her a rueful smile that made her heart jump inside her. ‘Wave to the crowds as we pass.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘We’re flying to my grandfather’s palace at Zurak. Tazeem will join us tomorrow. But I do not wish to wait until we reach Zurak to say what I need to say to you.’
Kirsten stiffened and stole an apprehensive glance at him.
It was not a conversation Shahir wanted to have, but he knew he could not avoid the subject, for silence would encourage division. He breathed in deep. ‘A long time ago I told you that I loved another woman.’
Kirsten shrugged both shoulders with overstated nonchalance while still waving and angling a fixed smile out at the crowds of spectators waiting for the royal motorcade to pass by. She behaved as though the issue of his loving another woman was of as much interest to her as watching paint dry. ‘So?’
‘As you now appear to be aware, I was referring to my foster-sister, Faria.’
