The Inherited Bride Read Free

seeing the depth of her pain. Although he was certain that in truthshe wanted nothing more than for him to witness just how distressed she was.
    “My bags will have to be packed. I’ve just gotten all of my things put away.” She didn’t make a move toward the closet, she simply stood rooted to the spot, looking very sad and very young.
    “I’m not doing it
for
you,” he said sardonically.
    Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed a delicate rose. “I’m sorry. You work for Sheikh Hassan, and I assumed.”
    “That I was a servant?”
    She mumbled something he thought might have been a curse in Italian, and stalked over to the closet, sliding the lightweight white doors open.
    “I don’t know how you meant to survive in the real world when you still expect someone else to deal with your clothes for you, Princess.”
    Her shoulders stiffened, her back going rigid. “Don’t call me that anymore,” she said without turning.
    “It’s what you are, Isabella. It’s
who
you are.”
    A hollow laugh escaped her lips. “Who knows who I am? I don’t.”
    He let the comment pass. It wasn’t his job to stand around and psychoanalyze his brother’s future wife. His duty was to return her unharmed, untouched, and he intended to do that as soon as possible.
    He had other matters to attend to. He had geochemists actively searching for the best place to install a new rig, looking for more oil out in the middle of the Umarahn desert. He liked to be there on site when they were making final decisions about location. He didn’t micromanage his team, he hired the best. But during major events he liked to be on hand in case there was a problem.
    Facilitating the growing Umarahn economy was only half of his job. Protecting his brother, and their people, was his utmost concern. He would give his life for his brother without hesitation. So when Hassan had informed him that his bride had gone missing Adham had offered to ensure she was found. He was now regretting that offer.
    She whipped around to face him, a pile of clothing, still on hangers, draped over her arms. “You could help me.”
    He shook his head slightly, watching as she began to awkwardly fold the clothing and place it in her bag. By the third or fourth article she seemed to develop some sort of method, even if it was unconventional.
    “Who packed for you in the first place?”
    She shrugged, the color in her cheeks deepening. “One of my brother’s servants. I was supposed to leave his home this morning. I just left a few hours earlier.”
    “And went to an undisclosed location?”
    She narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed in a haughty expression. “What did you say your name was?”
    “According to the report I read on you, you’re a very smart woman. Perfect marks in school. I think you know perfectly well that I didn’t offer you my name.”
    Her delicate brow creased. “I think that, considering you know everything about me from my marks in school and I shudder to think what else, I should at least know your name.”
    “Adham.” He left out his surname, and in so doing his relationship to Hassan.
    “Nice to meet you,” she said, folding a silk blouse and sticking it in the bottom of a pink suitcase. She paused mid-motion. “Actually, it isn’t, really. I don’t know why I said that. Habit. Good manners.” She sighed. “Becauseit’s what I was
trained
to do.” She said it despairingly, her luscious mouth pulled down at the corners.
    “You resent it?”
    “Yes,” she said slowly, firmly. “Yes, I do.” She took a breath. “It’s
not
nice to meet you, Adham. I wish you would go away.”
    “We don’t always get what we wish for.”
    “And some of us never do.”
    “You’ll have the Eiffel Tower. That has to be enough.”

CHAPTER TWO
    A DHAM’S penthouse apartment in Paris’s seventh district wasn’t at all what she’d expected from a man who worked for the High Sheikh. It was patently obvious that he had money of his own, and