Sheikh's Fake Fiancee Read Free Page B

I’m just…”
    “Tense. I think our siblings would like each other,” he said, smiling back at her. “Or they might be the same person. But maybe that comes with being the older sibling. I just assume you are.”
    “I am. Are you psychic now too?” she asked, her blue eyes darkening.
    “No, but I know that for so many families, the younger siblings have the luxury to explore themselves or be the flighty or artsy ones. With us, we’re about responsibility. Someone has to protect the others, has to make sure the family business endures.”
    “And what is your family business?” she asked, arching an eyebrow up at him.
    “Malls, for lack of a better word,” he said. “At least that’s usually what you Americans reduce them to. They’re actually emporiums or spaces where the best designers can share their wares.”
    “Well that would make teenage me excited. There was nothing I loved more than wasting time at the food court.”
    He snorted, as if her comment had mortally wounded him. “Oh, we’re not some lowest-common-denominator attraction with a movie theater and a pretzel vendor.”
    “Shame,” she said, winking at him and running one, well-manicured finger down his chest. He felt the stiffness already growing in his groin as the excess blood flowed there. “You don’t know the magic of capitalism until you’ve had a double cinnamon treat from Auntie Anne’s.”
    “I suppose I don’t,” he replied, about to ask her if she’d like to come back to his hotel room. Instead, he was interrupted by a girl with a blond bob and sparkly barrettes in her hair, as well as a brunette in a little black dress coming up to both of them.
    Wait, not exactly just a stroll. Is the blonde too drunk? She’s leaning so heavily on the brunette.
    It was like a switch was flipped in Jennifer’s brain. She was up and standing ramrod straight, as if she were a general about to send troops into the fray. Rushing over to the blonde, she reached out and felt her forehead.
    “God, Sydney, what did you drink? You promised me you wouldn’t! Mom’s going to be so mad and I’m pretty pissed too.”
    Sydney, who he assumed was her younger sister, wobbled on her feet and shook her head. “I didn’t. I swear I’ve been drinking club soda all night, but I just feel so tired. I don’t know what it is and my back hurts a lot. I just…I hate to be that girl, but can we go home, sis?”
    The younger girl started to shiver and Bahan wished he hadn’t put his suit jacket and coat both in the check. She was shuddering so much it scared him. Thankful he’d worn an undershirt, he unbuttoned his Oxford shirt and handed it to Jennifer.
    “Please, if you need to help keep her warm till you get to the coat check, take this.”
    Jennifer shook her head. “I couldn’t!”
    “I have a hundred more just like it,” he said, fishing into his pocket and pulling out a business card. “Call this and mention The Wild Orchid. I’ll let my secretary know to patch you directly through. I’d love to see you again. I had a great night, until now,” he said, eyeing her sister whose teeth were now chattering loudly. Something icy seized around his heart. None of that was normal, and something deep down in his bones told him that this wasn’t just the flu. “Please.”
    Jennifer hesitated and bit her lower lip.
    It was the brunette who grabbed his card. “Oh please, Jen. You so need to be braver. You should be glad I’ll jump for you,” she said. “She’d love to. Now,” she said, turning her attention back to the youngest woman. “Come on, Syd, let’s get you home.”
    His Goldilocks frowned back at him. “I…have a good night, Bahan.”
    He leaned over and kissed the back of her hand. “I’ll see you soon, Jennifer.”
    ***
    Bahan understood that she’d had to run home. He knew by seeing Sydney that Jennifer’s sister had appeared like death warmed over. Sometimes, he’d had people just make transparent excuses or run off