Society Weddings Read Free Page A

American side of her personality with a vengeance—and Rashid’s immovable conservatism should do the rest!
    Nodding resolutely at her pale face and widened ambereyes, she returned to the sitting room, where Brad had made a pot of coffee. She took a mug from him gratefully, wrapping her long fingers around its steaming warmth and hoping that a little of it might creep its way into her heart.
    She sat down on the sofa.
    ‘So spill the beans,’ he said quietly.
    Jenna sighed, knowing that she did not have to ask Brad to keep what she was about to tell him completely confidential; he more than anyone knew how to keep secrets. ‘He wants to marry me.’
    Brad almost choked on his coffee. ‘Say that again ?’ he demanded incredulously.
    Jenna put the mug down and shook her head. ‘Maybe I phrased that badly. I don’t think he actually wants to marry me—it is just something he believes he must honour—an agreement which was made between our parents a long, long time ago.’
    ‘Jenna—I don’t have a clue what you’re saying!’
    She supposed that it must sound positively barbaric to a modern professional American man—and in truth didn’t it sound more than a little barbaric to her? She sighed again, pushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek and fixing him with a candid look.
    ‘I’ll try to explain. Rashid’s late father and my father were great, great friends—and when I was still in my cradle they decided that, provided I fulfilled certain…’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Certain criteria , then I would one day make the perfect wife for Rashid.’
    ‘And those criteria were what?’ he questioned astutely.
    Faint colour crept into her cheeks. ‘Physically, I must be pleasing to Rashid’s eyes—’
    ‘Well, there couldn’t be any doubt about that, surely?’ he laughed.
    False modesty would help no one. She shrugged. ‘I understand that in that particular condition I met his specifications,’ she answered slowly.
    ‘You make it sound like the guy is picking out decor for a house!’
    ‘Maybe it is a little like that,’ she admitted, but she felt a shiver of memory as she recalled their last chaperoned meeting when she had surprised a hot, fleeting look of hunger in Rashid’s enigmatic black eyes as he had greeted her. A look which had washed over her and made her skin tingle with awareness, even while the knowledge that Rashid desired her had filled her with fear and trepidation. ‘The Ruler’s needs must always be met. That is a given.’
    ‘What other criteria?’ asked Brad quietly.
    Jenna bit her lip. ‘The obvious one, of course. That I must go to him unsullied—but I really don’t want to talk about that.’
    Brad nodded. ‘Sure,’ he said understandingly. ‘So what is it that you aren’t telling me, Jenna? Surely the idea can’t be that abhorrent to you? I’ve seen pictures of the guy and he sure looks like he fits the bill of conforming to most women’s fantasy man!’
    Jenna swallowed as unwilling images of his hard, lean body and cruel, dark face swam tantalisingly into her mind. ‘Oh, no one is disputing Rashid’s appeal,’ she said carefully. ‘Not even me. He is a most spectacular man. It’s just that America has changed me—or rather knowledge has changed what I thought I once wanted.’
    Brad pulled a face. ‘You’ve lost me!’ he protested.
    Time had deadened some of the pain of discovery, but not all of it, and it still hurt to say it. ‘When I first came to the States I had access to the free press for the first time in my life. I read newspapers with gossip columns—columns which documented Rashid’s lifestyle with disturbing clarity.’
    Brad nodded. ‘I think I’m beginning to get the picture,’ he said slowly.
    Jenna splayed her hands over her thighs and curled her fingernails so that they bit into her through the denim. ‘Rashid is almost twelve years older than I am,’ she said. ‘But when I was little he looked out for me—protected