The Sheik's Arranged Marriage Read Free Page B

part of history. Don’t you get it? Your father thinks we would be a good match. You have to stop him before he goes too far.”
    Dark brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you stop him? Simply tell him you’ll refuse me.”
    “It would be better if you didn’t ask me in the first place,” she muttered. “I sort of owe the king. He’s been really good to me since my grandfather died. Even before that. I would feel horrible turning him down.” She looked up at him. “But I really, really don’t want to marry you.”
    “How flattering,” Jamal murmured.
    Jamal had been prepared to meet Heidi the Horrible. Instead he found himself being almost charmed by a young woman who was much more schoolgirl than termagant.
    “I didn’t mean it that way,” she told him. “Don’t go getting all male and insulted.”
    “Male and insulted? What does that mean?”
    She glared at him, then pushed up her glasses. “You know. Guys hate it when women are honest. You all need your egos catered to. It’s really time-consuming.”
    “Ah. You have personal experience with this ego-catering?”
    “Not exactly, but I’ve seen a lot of it.”
    “Secondhand knowledge?”
    Her nose wrinkled in what he assumed was the scrunchy expression that had intimidated Malik. “I don’t have to cut off my arm to know I wouldn’t like the experience.”
    He mulled over that thought. “You’re saying that you don’t have to be involved with a man to know he’s interested in having his ego catered to?”
    “Exactly.” Her tone of voice was pleased, as if a particularly dull student had given a clever response.
    Jamal stared at his dinner guest. As Malik had promised, Heidi did dress like a spinster. Tonight she wore a gray dress that buttoned tightly to a high collar. Despite the heat of the June evening, her arms were covered with long sleeves and her skirt fell nearly to her ankles. Not a drop of makeup covered her pale skin. If her hazel eyes appeared wide, it was because of their shape, not because she’d used cosmetics. Light brown hair had been pulled back into an unattractively tight bun. The small glasses perched on her nose only added to the cliché of the spinster schoolteacher.
    He narrowed his gaze. While she wasn’t really a Prune Princess, she had the look of a woman who didn’t like men very much. Which was unfortunate. With the right clothes and a better hairstyle, she could be pretty. From what he could tell through the thick material of her dress, her shape appeared to be pleasant enough.
    “So it would never work,” she assured him. “The marriage thing. We don’t know each other. I doubt we would like each other. I don’t even ride.”
    He blinked. “Ride what? I don’t understand.” What did riding have to do with an arranged marriage?
    “I don’t know how to make the sentence more clear .” Her expression clearly indicated her lack of faith in his intelligence. He wasn’t the bright student anymore.
    “I understand the sentence, just not your point.”
    She drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t ridden a horse in years. Princesses ride. Isn’t that the law or something?”
    Jamal felt his mouth twitch slightly. Odd, he thought, but also appealing in a twisted sort of way. As for her other concerns…
    “I will do my best not to propose,” he promised.
    “Thank you. I’m sure you’d be a wonderful husband, but I couldn’t be less interested.” She paused. “I don’t mean that against you personally. I don’t want to marry anyone. I’m very independent.”
    There was a surprise, he thought humorously.
    He pulled out a chair for her, waited until she was seated, then eased it back into place. He then drew out the chair next to her for himself. If nothing else, he would spend his evening entertained.
    “Why are you sitting there?” she asked in alarm. “Don’t get close. You’ll give them ideas.”
    “According to you, they already have ideas.”
    “They don’t need