The Sheikh's Accidental Bride (The Sheikh Wants A Wife 2) - Page 6

It wasn’t just how beautiful everything was. It was how easy it all seemed to be. Her bags were taken care of. She was taken care of. Food appeared, and a handsome man wanted the pleasure of her company for dinner. Any problem that she had ever had just seemed irrelevant, here, right now, in this place with this man.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, the quiet ding of the alert muted by her jeans. Her phone felt wrong here. It was three models behind, and she was already making a mental note to herself not to take it out in front of the man who was out on the terrace, waiting for her.

Where are you? It says your flight landed, but I can’t find you in the terminal? x J

Nadya smiled. Jasmine always signed her texts like that. Longstanding sisterly feud or no, she was, and always would be, the sweet one. Nadya frowned as she tried to think to herself how she would be able to explain the situation to her sister, and typed in a first attempt.

Sorry, just commandeered another Nadya’s fiancé. Don’t worry though, they don’t know each other!

She laughed to herself quietly as she looked at the words on the screen. Something about seeing them written down in all their absurdity made her feel less like she was seriously transgressing, and more like she was just playing some kind of prank that would sort itself out eventually. She deleted the words and tried again.

Sorry, I’m seeing what it’s like to be richer than you.

No, that wouldn’t do. There was something spiteful in there, seeping out. Besides, if she told her sister anything about what was going on, she would have to tell her everything. Jasmine would never stand for half the information about a juicy story. Nadya deleted the words, and tried one last time.

Sorry! I completely missed my flight. Got on the standby list for a new one. Should be in later tonight. I’ll let you know what time when I find out.

That would do it. She pressed send.

And, just like that, she’d committed herself to staying. Just a little longer. She only wanted a little more of a taste of this life.

She turned her phone off so it wouldn’t give her away, and slipped it in her pocket. She splashed water on her face, and gave herself a quick check in the mirror. She hadn’t exactly dressed to impress for the cross-country flight, but she still didn’t know where her luggage was, so for the moment this would have to do.

She headed back out to the terrace, where she saw the man standing at the edge of the terrace, looking out over the city.

She went to him. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. She was trying to sound casual, but found she didn’t actually have to try too hard. Once she’d made the decision to stay, at least for a little while, she found her nonchalance wasn’t so hard to find.

The man seemed lost in thought, and Nadya almost felt bad pulling him out of it. When he looked at her, she saw his eyes more clearly. She’d thought they were black, but they were really a warm, dark brown. They were good eyes, she thought. Kind eyes. Not the sort of eyes that she’d picture on a rich, Middle-Eastern man who was engaged to marry a royal woman he’d never met.

“Well you should be,” he said, with a playful feigned annoyance. “I was starving.”

His casual humor and easy smile, even in such a momentous occasion as this, pushed out any trace of doubt in Nadya’s mind. She wanted to taste just a little more of this life; she wanted to learn just a little more about him, and how he’d found himself waiting for a woman he’d never met, but would one day marry.

He pulled out the chair for her and they sat down. The starter was a small but elegant warm salad, bursting with flavors Nadya didn’t recognize but couldn’t get enough of, and she had to keep herself from wolfing it down in seconds.

“So, how was your flight, Nadya?” he asked.

She was glad for the question. It was something she could answer honestly, at least. “It always feels longer than it is, but it wasn’t bad.” r />

He frowned, pushing a bit of lettuce around on his plate as though he were annoyed with it. “Well, the flight from Dubai is pretty long. It would be hard to feel longer than that.”

Oops. She’d thought that she could answer honestly. “Well, you know, first class helps a lot.”

She tried to put on her best impression of how she thought Other Nadya might talk. Not in terms of the accent – she could hardly change that now, and he hadn’t balked at her sounding American – but in terms of the easy above-it-all way she must see the world.

She could see from the look on the man’s face that she’d said something wrong. She searched her words, and realized that she’d unwittingly implied that she had ever flown coach. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I mean, I imagine so, anyway,” she said, trying to cover.

“Don’t worry, Nadya,” he said. “I know what you mean.”

That was the second time he’d said her name. She liked how he said it. She liked the way it sounded with his hint of an accent making it just a little softer and more musical.

She was suddenly struck by how much she wanted to know his name. It was more important than anything, she felt, in that moment. She could hardly ask, though, unless she wanted to give herself away and for the whole experience to be over just as it had begun. So she just kept on.

He was looking at her like he expected something from her, so Nadya elected to change the subject.

“Anyway, I like the hotel you’ve chosen,” she said, and she meant it. The way his face lit up told her that she’d chosen the right subject to pivot to.

“I’m glad. It’s my favorite in New York. There’s nowhere else in this whole city that makes me feel quite as much like I live here.”

“But you don’t…” Nadya said, trying to ride the line between statement and question, unsure how much the other Nadya knew about him. If he didn’t even know what she looked like, then surely she had to be at least a little bit in the dark about him. That would work in her favor.

“No,” he said. “Not anymore.”

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