The Sheikh's Blackmailed Bride (Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid 2)

“Rami—” She was breathless, urging him on, and he surged toward her—

There was a knock at the door, and he whirled, Catelyn in his arms, to face Murat.

The dressmaker raised his eyebrows, then reached for the handle of the open door. “I’ll meet you in the front,” he said, as if this happened all the time. “You’ve made a gorgeous selection, Sheikh Rami.”

11

“This isn’t a good idea.” Rami crossed his arms over his chest, facing off with Catelyn at the edge of a smaller dining room in one of the quieter wings of the palace. Standing in the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows, he was heartbreakingly handsome.

Catelyn reached up and traced the line of his jaw with a fingertip. “It’s a wonderful idea. And all you have to do is make small talk.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “After all, you said you wanted me to make you better. This is how I’m going to start.”

“We’ve already started in other ways,” Rami said, and the heat in his voice might have drawn her in entirely if Adria hadn’t arrived with their other guests. He turned, putting a smile on his face that seemed perfectly genuine to Catelyn, though she knew he was nervous from the flicker of anxiety that went through his eyes.

“Adira, who have you brought to put up with us?” He greeted his sister, and Catelyn stepped up beside him, tucking her hand into his elbow and giving him an encouraging squeeze.

Adira was glowing, radiant, her dark eyes dancing at the prospect of a couples’ tea party with her older brother. When Catelyn had come to her with the idea, she’d laughed out loud for several minutes. “Rami? At a tea party?”

Catelyn had nudged her with an elbow. “Give him some credit.”

Now here they were, being introduced to Hassan and Karima, a young couple Adira’s age. “We met at a social gathering for young entrepreneurs,” she said as they sat down at an intimate round table near one of the windows. “They got married last summer.”

“Entrepreneurs?” Rami sounded cynical. “Are you a young entrepreneur, Adira?”

She dismissed him with a flick of her hand. “I could be, if I wanted to.”

“You couldn’t,” Rami said with a little laugh. “You have royal duties, to begin with, and—”

“Let’s play our game.” Catelyn gave Rami a big smile and a meaningful look. “Who’s ready?”

“I am,” offered Karima, whose oval face was framed by dark hair that fell in a sharp line to her shoulders. “Unless you want to explain it first?” She shrugged, a self-conscious grin on her face. “This is funny, isn’t it?”

“It’s an old strategy I learned back in my sorority days,” Catelyn. “A way to prep for interviews and…other occasions. Do you all have your cards?”

“I have mine.” Adira waved hers in the air in front of her.

“And mine.” Hassan was game, though he kept exchanging looks with his wife that made it clear they found this business highly amusing. Catelyn liked them instantly, because even if they thought it was funny, they were clearly committed to taking it seriously. Hassan cleared his throat. “I’ll go first.”

“Weren’t we waiting for an explanation?”

Catelyn turned to Rami. “The game is simple. They ask questions, you answer.”

He stared at her, then slowly shook his head. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said briskly. “Hassan, go ahead.”

He shuffled the cards in his hands and read the one on the very top. “What sport are you the worst at?”

Rami laughed out loud. “That’s a ridiculous question. For one thing, there are too many sports I’m not expert in. And to debate the merits of—”

“Rami!” Adira cut in. “This should be an easy answer.”

“Fine,” he said, with a barely disguised roll of his eyes. “The sport I’m worst at is tennis.” He waved a hand in the air. “Next question. Next question.”

Karima was up next. “When you’re about to lose a business deal, what do you do? Cut and run or double down?”

Rami stared at her. “I don’t love that this is insinuating that I lose business deals. I can count on one hand the number of people who—”

Catelyn nudged him gently with her elbow. “Here’s a new strategy,” she said quietly. “When you hear the question, instead of jumping right in, stop, think of your answer, and then say it.”