Ahmed stood and threw down his napkin. “That was terrible.”
“Perhaps the next item?” the wedding planner said. She was fidgeting nervously with a tablet computer.
Ahmed shot her a glare, and she paled. He crossed his arms. “I refuse to sample another dish until I speak with the caterer. None of this is good enough.”
Nasiji stood as well. “Why don’t you like it? Is it because I do? You’re saying that I have no taste in food? That…that I will try to poison you?” Nasiji picked up the edge of her veil. “How dare you embarrass me like this.” She turned and stomped from the room.
Ahmed called after her, “And how dare you embarrass me!”
Nasiji slammed the door behind her. Ahmed turned and found that skinny wedding planner staring at him as if she was watching her wedding plans dissolving. Good. He hoped they were. He fought down a smile, fixed what he hoped was a stern frown in place and started for the kitchen. “I will speak with the caterer myself.”
He found Melanie leaning over the sink in a bathroom that stood just off the kitchen—it was easy enough to find her due to the running water. She was wetting a cloth to put over the back of her neck. He came up behind her and took it from her. She glanced up, her face pale, but she allowed him to help her.
“What is it?” he asked, voice soft. “You look terrible.”
She glanced up into the mirror as if to check herself, and put a hand up to her hair, as if self-conscious now that the usual sleek cap was disordered. Ahmed put the damp cloth on the back of her neck.
“Flu?” he asked.
“No. I’m okay.” She straightened and brushed at the front of her white shirt. She wore—as did her staff—a white button-down shirt, black trousers and sensible black shoes. He expected that under that would again be her sensible bra and panties. A memory flashed of her naked in bed and his skin heated. He put a hand to her face. She was warm, too.
She took a step back, removing herself from his reach. This bathroom—like all those in the palace—was large enough she could do so. “I think it’s the water. It doesn’t agree with me.” Her eyes were watering.
Ahmed shook his head. “The water is perfectly fine and filtered. It cannot make you ill.” He wanted to want to gather her into a hug and stroke her back and brush the hair from her face. The instant he took a step closer, cool cloth raised again, she gave him a fierce glare. He tossed the cloth into the sink and held up his hands.
“This is not just water. You are not well. I cannot have that.”
Her chin dropped, and she put a hand on her stomach. “It’ll pass. It’s just…well, mornings have never been the best time of day for me.”
He studied her. “Melanie, you’ve lost weight. I can see that. You skin is as white as this sink, and there are shadows under your eyes.”
She straightened and brushed at her face. “That’s called a lack of makeup, and I’ll be fine. A little bicarbonate and ginger ale is all I need. Do you have any ginger ale around here?”
“I will see some is obtained at once.”
Melanie licked her lips, and her stare darted away from his. Ahmed instantly sensed something was not right. “What is it, Melanie? You avoid me—and we need to talk.”
She shook her head. “Nothing to say. You’re getting married. I’m here to work.”
He stepped closer. “If things go as I wish, there will be no wedding.”
She looked up at him and her green eyes darkened. “You plan to dump Nasiji? What kind of—”
He put his fingers on her lips—they were as soft as he remembered. “Nasiji wishes this farce to end as much as I do. This is our father’s plan, not ours.”
Pulling his hand away, she stepped back again. “So…why not tell them that?”
He shook his head. “I could do so—Father will no doubt want to banish me. But Nasiji—it is not so easy for her. Her father has another husband already waiting. He will see her married no matter what. So I must find another way for her. I’ve been friends with her far too long to leave her in this mess her father wishes to make of her life.”
The sharpness eased from Melanie’s eyes. She crossed her arms. A little color had returned to her face. “You’re helping her out? That’s an excuse I haven’t heard before.”
Ahmed shrugged. “It is the truth. And now, will you make a bargain with me? If you do not feel better, will you see the palace doctor? I do not like the idea of you being ill.”
She shook her head. “I told you. I’m fine. And I can look after myself.”
She started to turn away, but he caught her arm. “Things are not done between us. I asked for you specifically, so I could see you again.”
She pulled away. “Talk to me when you’re not engaged to another woman, Ahmed. Maybe this wedding isn’t for real, but have you even thought about what happens to me if that’s the case?”