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“Oh, yeah.” She scratched her baby bump. “I need.”
A few minutes later they’d landed and slowed to a crawl on the runway. Roxanne waddled away to use the restroom while Feraz pulled out his phone to check his messages. Most of them he filed away for later. Government-related business and cabinet posts. Then he stopped at an email marked urgent. From his sister Jessenia. Perfect.
He suppressed an eye roll and opened it. He’d hoped to keep his return to the country quiet and get his wife settled in the castle before his family descended on her like a pack of the nosy desert vultures Raheem loved so much in his animal sanctuary. Instead, from the message Jess had sent, it looked like the entire family would be waiting for them at the hanger when they pulled in. Ugh. He exhaled slowly and filed the message away.
This was not how he’d wanted things to be. His family had met Roxanne amidst their whirlwind romance and right before their wedding. After that, Roxanne had mostly kept to herself, avoiding most family gatherings and social functions until she’d finally headed home for what had originally been intended as a short visit. A year and a half later, she was just now returning.
Of course, his sisters had also kept up with all the latest tabloid gossip about his estranged wife’s philandering and their opinion of Roxanne had plummeted because of it. At first, Feraz had appreciated their steadfastness and support where he was concerned. But as the time separating him from Roxanne grew, with no end in sight, his family’s constant reminders about his failed marriage grated. He didn’t need any reminders of his failures where Roxanne was concerned. He’d been so stupid, thinking with his cock instead of his brain. He never should have married her so quickly without getting to know her better first. He should have taken the time to get to know her sister Isabella better. Perhaps she could have shed some light on why Roxanne was the way she was with him. Isabella had always been so kind and gentle and understanding. Perhaps he’d chosen the wrong sister after all…
Except Isabella was dead now and he had no choice but to make things work with Roxanne. For better or worse.
She came out of the bathroom, just as they pulled to a stop inside the small private hangar. Bright morning sunshine streamed in through the entrance to the metal structure and Feraz gave what he hoped was a confident smile to his wife. “I’ve received word my family is waiting for us outside the plane.”
“Oh.” Roxanne swallowed hard and plopped back down on the dais beside him. “Right. Good. Okay. Guess we had to see them again sometime, huh?”
“Well, I see them regularly.” He raised a brow at her, afraid she might be feeling sick again. The pink color in her cheeks had faded once more to a pallid gray. “You’ve not seen them since you left the island. But don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you.”
She nodded, staring at her toes. Her poor ankles looked swollen from the flight and lack of exercise and he longed to pull her close and carry her off the plane and straight into his waiting limo himself, bypassing his nosy family completely. But that wasn’t an option.
He motioned for the attendant to get her a fresh water then waited while she drank it before standing and offering his hand. “Ready, rohi?”
Roxanne looked up at him, her green eyes wide with apprehension, so different from the last time he’d seen his wife on the day she’d left him—all fierce and ready to fight. She bit her full pink lips and he tracked the tiny movement with his gaze. It had been so long since he’d kissed her. Would she still taste of cinnamon and mint?
“What does that mean?” she asked, her words barely more than a whisper.
“What?”
“Rohi?”
“It’s an Arabic endearment,” he said, tugging her to her feet before him, her body brushing his as she swayed slightly. Feraz put his arm around her waist to steady her and hold her in place. She felt so soft and warm and she smelled of flowers and soap, strands of her dark hair coming loose from her ponytail to dangle against her cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself from tracing the backs of his fingers down her cheek any more than he could stop himself from taking his next breath. “It’s not important.”
Before he realized what he was doing, Feraz bent his head and brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, before claiming her mouth with his. At first she stiffened beneath him, but then she moaned softly and her lips parted. He took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth to taste her once more. Not spicy at all this time. Just sweetness and light and pure goodness.
Reluctantly, he pulled back to gaze down into her upturned face. Her eyes were closed, and her lips still parted. Masculine pride swelled within him knowing he’d been the one to make her look that way. Him. Her husband. Not some boy-toy playboy billionaire who had no business touching his wife to begin with.
His hands clenched at his sides and Feraz stepped away, straightening his shirt before slipping on his suit jacket. Roxanne slowly blinked open her eyes to stare at him, her expression still dreamy and unfocused. At least it was better than the grief-stricken fear he’d seen there before. Her color was better too, which would hopefully keep his family from asking any more embarrassing questions than were necessary.
Feraz ran a hand through his hair then checked his appearance in the mirror before taking Roxanne’s cold fingers in his. “Time to say hello to your in-laws.”
* * *
Isabella followed Feraz down the stairs of the plane to the tarmac, trying to stay behind him as much as possible to avoid being bombarded by his family. She remembered them from her visit to the island years prior, when her sister had first met her dashing sheikh, but she certainly didn’t feel comfortable around them now, especially after that blistering kiss onboard the plane.
Her mind was still reeling from it, truth be told.
Despite him being married to Roxanne, Isabella had had her share of fantasies about her gorgeous brother-in-law over the years. None of them had lived up to reality. The feel of his lips against hers—soft, warm, tender, demanding yet not pushing too far too soon. God, why Roxanne had ever left this man behind was beyond Isabella.
“Welcome home, brother,” a tall, good-looking man a few years younger than Feraz said, slapping him on the back. That must be Raheem. Beside him was a petite redhead with sparkling green eyes, not unlike Isabella’s. “And you brought someone with you, I see. About time you brought the wife to heel, brother.”
Feraz glanced back over his shoulder at Isabella then tugged her forward to his side. “My wife is my equal and I am glad to welcome her home. She deserves your respect and your kindness, as does my unborn child.”
Isabella found herself immediately surrounded by a gaggle of Feraz’s sisters, all of them talking at once around her as they shepherded her toward the waiting limo. Feraz was walking on ahead with Raheem and another man she assumed was Rehaj, also good-looking, also a bit younger than Feraz. Another woman had joined their group too, a pretty blond who held tight to Rehaj’s arm. She must be his fiancée.
“Do you know what you’re having?” one of the sisters asked Isabella, at the same time another sister asked, “What names have you picked out?”
“Let the woman breathe,” Najma, a younger sister said, a cell phone practically glued to her hand. Trailing behind the group was the youngest sister, watching all the commotion with a small smile.
“C’mon, Razi,” the oldest sister, Jessmenia, said. “Don’t dawdle or you’ll get left behind.”
