Janna still stared after their departed guests, frowning. “Was that your bride?”
Nassir didn’t answer, just hailed the waiter back over and ordered a white wine and a water for Janna and a refill of his chardonnay, all the while figuring out the best response to her question. “She will be unable to attend today, unfortunately.”
“Oh, dear.” Janna sat that god awful pink planner on the table beside her and appeared genuinely downhearted. “I was really hoping to get started on the preparations as soon as possible.”
The platters of food he’d ordered earlier arrived and Nassir stifled a laugh as Janna took in the mountains of hummus and pita bread, tangy curry chicken and rice, and garlic kebabs laid out before her. And last but not least, a fresh cucumber salad with lettuce, and a variety of other vegetables.
“Wow.” Her gaze lifted from the feast to Nassir. “This all looks and smells amazing.”
“Do you like Arab cuisine?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never eaten any.”
“Then I shall enjoy your first experience of sampling the treats of my country.” He smiled and pointed toward the curry chicken. “That one is spicy, so be warned.”
“I like spicy.” She picked up her fork and sampled a small bite. The tiny groan of pleasure that escaped her had Nassir shifting in his seat and thinking of the bedroom, not the dining room. “This is fantastic.”
“I’m glad you enjoy it.” Nassir couldn’t seem to stop staring at her mouth, at the way her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip. “But you sound surprised.”
“I’ve had Indian curry before, but this is different. This has just the right amount of heat.”
The right amount of heat, indeed. The fact she seemed to like his native foods pleased Nassir more than he cared to admit. In the palace, the chef would cook whatever she wanted including American dishes, but the thought of them sharing a banquet for two of their favourite spicy dishes brought a smile to his lips.
“So,” Janna said around a bite of salad. “Your bride doesn’t want to have a say in the planning of the wedding?”
“Let us finish our meal first, then we will discuss business, yes?”
“Okay.”
Half an hour later, Janna sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. “This was all wonderful, but I can’t eat another bite.”
“I, too, am full.” He called the waiter over once more to clear their plates, then ordered strong coffee. Janna asked for hot water and tea instead.
Once the waiter had brought their items, she got down to business again, transforming from satisfied female to hardened harpy before his eyes. “All right. Let’s start at the top. What is our budget?”
“Budget?”
“Yes. How much money will you spend on your wedding?”
“There is no budget. Whatever you decide will be done. I am a man of position and therefore my wedding should be extravagant. Nothing discounted or cheap.”
“I’ve never planned a wedding that didn’t have some type of ceiling on the budget. Even Sheik Amare gave me a few expenditure guidelines.”
“Well, now you have.” Nassir smiled at her stunned expression. “I’m sure you’ve had ideas about the perfect wedding before, but have never been able to act upon them. Now you can. Plan this wedding with the same care and consideration as if it were your own. As if there were no limitations to the money that could be spent.”
Janna raised her eyebrows, “You’re serious?”
“Most definitely. Do whatever makes you happy.”
“But it’s not my wedding.” She shook her head and clasped her hands on the table top. “Perhaps your bride and I have different tastes.”
“I doubt it.” He sat back and watched her, “I imagine you would be a romantic, using lots of flowers, decorations, creating a fantasy land where the bride was the princess and the groom the handsome prince.”
She flushed the most beguiling shade of rose he’d ever seen. “I’ve done Cinderella themed weddings. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”
“This isn’t about what I want.”
She looked up and met his gaze, a flicker of something passing through her eyes, there then gone before he could identify it. Empathy, perhaps.