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“I can’t promise you that with a straight face,” he said with a grin as he led her toward the dance floor. “But don’t worry, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
Everything abruptly jarred to a stop—the music, the laughter, the easy camaraderie—as everyone craned their necks to see the men in their Middle Eastern robes and headdresses march through the front door into the bar and grill.
Arabelle’s eyes clashed with the man at the front, her father, the sheikh of Lumana. His glittering, dark eyes were filled with aversion at seeing her in such close proximity to a man. That she wore a short, glittery gown, high heels and ruby lipstick no doubt heightened his distaste. “Arabelle, you’re to come home now.”
She gaped. “I have job offers—“
“Youwillobey me in this.”
Another man in his thobe stepped close, one Arabelle vaguely recalled. Her father’s closest advisor, Yaqub. He cleared his throat. “Your family needs you now, Sheikha Arabelle.”
“Sheikha?” Scott asked, his voice high-pitched and his eyes bugging out of his head.
“I don’t believe it,” Kiki said weakly.
Arabelle crossed her arms. She couldn’t worry about her friends, not yet. Bad enough that her father had royally fucked her over and her friends would never look at her the same way again. Nor would they trust her after she’d pretended to have a normal upbringing like everyone else. “Why on earth would my family want me home? I talk to my mother regularly and I know my brother—”
“Your brother is dead,” her father interjected harshly, grief flashing briefly in his eyes. “If we leave now we’ll make it to his funeral.”
The whole room did a slow spin as Arabelle shook her head. “His funeral,” she croaked wretchedly. “I don’t believe it.”
Her father’s advisor stepped close and drew her upright. His mouth curling with distaste at her minimalist western wear, he informed coolly, “The great sheikh doesn’t lie. Your brother had a bad accident and never recovered.”
She had no strength to argue or resist. Even her friends simply gaped after her as she was led out of the bar and grill and placed into the back of a sleek limousine beside the advisor, her father climbing in after her so that there was no escape.
She was left with nothing but bitter disbelief that her brother—one she barely knew—had died, and the disillusioned impression that she would have no choice now but to undertake any responsibilities he’d left behind.
Chapter Eight
Arabelle’s lashes fluttered apart and Mahindar’s face swam into view beside her, his sharp eyes assessing in the bright, sunlit room.
“Sleep well?” he asked smoothly, as though nothing ever dared touch him in his slumber.
She pushed a hand over her face and managed an awkward smile. Going by the dull light filtering inside it was early morning. They’d slept away most of the day and all night! “Like a baby.”
“You did,” he agreed, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I woke a few hours ago and watched you sleep.”
Her face heated. “How…tedious.”
“On the contrary, it was…fascinating. Do you always mumble and cry out when you’re sleeping like a baby?”
She blinked, her mouth suddenly dry. “W-what did I say?”
His mouth curved into a half-smile. “From the bits and pieces I could understand, you didn’t want to go home and leave your life in England.”
Her chest tightened. Just how much had she babbled out loud? Bloody hell. As if marrying him against her will and having him take her virginity wasn’t bad enough. She wouldn’t bare her soul to him, too!
Bending his arm, he propped his head on a hand and asked idly, “Was there a special someone you were forced to leave behind?”
“N-no!” she refused hotly. But at his satisfied smirk she realized she shouldn’t be telling him everything. He already had anyone and everything he wanted in his life, like they were little more than disposable toys. It would be nothing short of joyful and perhaps a little shameless to deny him her heart and pretend she’d given it to someone else.
She sighed, then pretended to look contrite. “You’re right, therewassomeone else.”
His eyes darkened a little and tension emanated from him. “And you still have feelings for this man?”
She squeezed her eyes closed to hide any signs of laughter. “Do you really think my feelings are so weak that marrying a stranger will change them?”
Mahindar rolled so that he was on top of her.
