The Sheikh's Convenient Bride

Keir and Cassie were next. Hello, Keir’s voice said, you’ve reached the O’Connells. We can’t take your call right now…

“For heaven’s sake,” Megan grumbled, and dialed again.

Fallon and Stefano weren’t home, either. Their housekeeper answered, but since Megan’s knowledge of Italian and the housekeeper’s knowledge of English just about totaled zero, she didn’t get much further than, “Just tell them Megan called.”

Sean’s cell phone didn’t answer at all, and when she tried to reach Cullen and Marissa, all she got was static.

Megan hit the disconnect button and rolled her eyes. Great. She had the most wonderful news of her life and nobody to share it with.

Well, no. Her mother was probably reachable in Las Vegas, but she wanted to tell the others first. Ma would start making plans, and she preferred the plans she’d just made with Caz. Life would be simpler if she had the backing of Fallon and Briana.

And wasn’t that silly?

Her mother would be thrilled for her. Aren’t you ever going to meet a man and fall in love, Megan? Mary was always saying. She’d been saying it more often lately, at least once at each O’Connell wedding.

Megan smiled, picked up the phone…

“Miss O’Connell?”

It was Hakim. So much for ET calling home, Megan thought, and tossed the phone aside.

“Yes, Hakim. What is it?”

“Will you please come with me?”

He was supposed to address her as “my lady.” She’d heard Caz tell him that. It was what everyone called her, even though she’d told her husband she’d be happy if they just called her Megan.

“My lady’ is traditional,” he’d replied, and softened the starchy answer with a quick grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. If I told my people to address you by your first name, they’d die of shock.”

So she was “my lady” to her husband’s people, even to Hakim…except when Caz wasn’t there. She hadn’t made an issue of it. Her husband’s aide had unresolved issues with all that had happened. He also made her uncomfortable as hell, but she hadn’t told Caz that, either.

Hakim would come around.

“Come with you where?” she asked politely. “Has my husband sent for me?”

“Your husband is busy, Miss O’Connell. That is why I’ve come for you.”

Megan nodded. Caz had some sort of meeting this afternoon. “Will you need me with you?” she’d asked, and he’d said no, not today.

“Tired of having me around already,” she teased, and he’d caught her in his arms and gathered her close.

“Never,” he’d told her, his eyes so serious, his tone so defiant, that she’d slipped her arms around him and kissed him.

Well, something must have changed, she thought as she followed Hakim down the wide hall that led to the formal meeting rooms of the palace. Perhaps she should have brought her briefcase. Her notes.

“Hakim. Wait a minute. Who’s my husband meeting with? I’d like to go back to our rooms and get my papers.”

Hakim made an abrupt right. They’d entered a narrow corridor, one she’d never seen before.

“Hakim? I said—”

The aide made another sharp right. A latticework door loomed ahead.

“You will not need your papers for this, Miss O’Connell.”

His voice had dropped to a whisper that made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

“What is this?” she said sharply. “Where is my husband?”