Bride Behind The Desert Veil (The Marchetti Dynasty 3)

He leant back now, a nearly empty wine glass in his hand, and looked at her. ‘I believed that someone must have hurt you, but if anything it’s more likely to have been the other way around. Who was he?’

Liyah kept her face expressionless, even as she sucked in a breath at the barb. He thought she’d been acting the whole time. Feigning her reticence and lack of experience.

An image came into her head. A young man—her age. Tall, handsome. Cheeky smile. Charming. Intelligent. How easily he’d swept her off her feet and made her believe that he was truly interested in her. How easily she’d let him breach barriers she’d never allowed anyone else to, so self-protective and distrustful.

But when she’d first arrived in Europe a couple of years ago she’d been hungry to experience this new world and be a modern, independent woman. So one night she’d allowed him the ultimate intimacy.

She hadn’t told him she was a virgin, too embarrassed and shy, and eager to relieve herself of the burden of innocence. But when she’d tensed at the unexpected pain on penetration he’d stopped, a horrified look on his face, clearly not expecting a fellow university student of twenty-two to still be a virgin.

For a moment she’d thought he’d force himself on her, but he’d jumped up and hurled a string of profane insults instead. And then she’d discovered that she was the butt of a random drunken bet between him and his friends to see how quickly he could get her into bed. Apparently he’d won his bet.

After that Liyah could remember covering up with tomboyish clothes. Tying her hair back. Wearing her glasses all the time. Diminishing herself as much as possible to avoid sticking out on the university campus. Drawing attention.

And yet Sharif had just had to look at her and she’d forgotten the painful lessons she’d learnt in a heartbeat. Sheer instinct had overridden every rational bone in her body, proving that there was still a shameful hunger inside her, ready to expose her weakness for connection and intimacy at all costs. She’d learnt nothing. And this man wasn’t about to believe what she had to say in her defence. So she would protect herself by playing to his low regard of her.

She pushed the hurt down and lifted her chin. ‘He was nobody. I don’t even remember his name.’

‘I almost feel sorry for him.’

‘He really doesn’t need your sympathy,’ Liyah forced out. Seeking desperately to get the focus off her, and ruffle Sharif’s irritatingly judgemental and cool demeanour, she said, ‘Considering our experience of each other, and the fact that this is a marriage in name only, will you be discreet?’

Sharif’s gaze narrowed on her. Liyah’s face grew hot.

He said, ‘Taking lovers and causing headlines is the absolute antithesis of what I’m aiming to achieve by marrying you. I’ve got more important things to worry about.’

‘Like what, exactly? Why is it so important to you to have a wife right now, when clearly it’s not something you relish?’

Sharif looked at Liyah. Her cheeks had darkened with colour. Her eyes were flashing and he could see her chest moving up and down. She was agitated. Because he’d caught her out? Because he was setting parameters? Whatever the reason, it was having an incendiary effect on his blood and he had to shift discreetly in his seat.

He had to focus on what she’d asked. His first instinct was to give her some platitude, but something stopped him. He’d never been in this situation before, with a woman who was ostensibly going to be by his side for the foreseeable future. The longest liasion he’d ever had had lasted about two weeks.

‘I’m at a crucial juncture in the development of the Marchetti Group and having a wife by my side will take me—us—to the next level. That is the most important thing, and it drives every decision I make.’

Was it his imagination or had she flinched slightly when he’d said that? Her eyes were huge and very green. Then she looked away and it irritated him, because usually he was the one to avoid eye contact. And why did he feel the need to justify why the Marchetti Group was so important when he’d never felt the need to before?

He wanted her eyes back on him. ‘I’ve got a team lined up to come here tomorrow and set you up.’

She looked at him again, and Sharif felt a moment of satisfaction even as a spike of need made his body tighten.

She said, ‘Set me up?’

He nodded, imagining her in a sleek satin and lace concoction before he could stop himself. ‘A stylist and a hair and beauty team. A few others. To make sure you’re prepared for our first event on Wednesday evening.’

The colour drained out of her face slightly. ‘That’s the day after tomorrow!’

Sharif nodded. ‘A press release will be issued tomorrow, announcing our marriage. We’ve flown under the radar so far, which is how I wanted it. But you need to be ready to face the world I inhabit. This is going to be far removed from the tacky haunts you frequented in Europe and that dusty palace in Taraq.’

Her cheeks flushed again and her jaw tightened. ‘It wasn’t me in those—’ She stopped suddenly.

‘It wasn’t you in what?’

She shook her head, letting her hair fall forward. ‘Nothing.’ Then she looked at him again and pulled at a wayward strand. ‘There’s not much I can do about this unless you want me to cut it off.’

To Sharif’s surprise he felt a visceral rejection of that notion ev

en as he wanted to tame it somehow, because it reminded him too much of the wildness she aroused inside him.

He shook his head. ‘No need. I have the best in the business lined up—they’ll make sure you’re presentable.’