The Sheikh's Bartered Bride
That had her smiling again. “Good.”
Hakim had been gratifyingly complimentary over the Belgian waffles and scrambled eggs seasoned with her own special combination of spices that Catherine had made for breakfast. It was the first time she’d made breakfast for a man. The entire morning had been filled with firsts for her. The first time waking up beside a man. The first time she had to share a toothbrush. She’d been surprised when the fastidious Hakim had so calmly asked to use hers.
It had seemed like such a n intimate thing to do.
Like what they’d done on the sofa and then in her bed hadn’t been, she chided herself.
She finished putting the dishes in the apartment’s small dishwasher while Hakim wiped down the counters and table.
“You’re awfully domesticated for a sheikh.”
“I lived alone for most of my university years.”
“You said most, does that mean you had a roommate for a while?” Her mind boggled at the thought of rooming with a sheikh. Of course she would be doing that soon. As his wife.
His expression closed. “Yes. I had a roommate for a while.” He tossed the dishcloth in the sink.
She rinsed it, wrung it out and hung it over the sink divider. “It didn’t work out, huh?”
She could remember horror stories from friends at college who had shared their door rooms with impossible people.
“No. It didn’t work out.”
Something in his voice alerted her that he wasn’t talking about getting rid of a roommate because he was a slob.
“Was it a woman?” she asked before thinking better of it.
Hakim’s face tightened. “Yes.”
She had to know more. “Were you a couple?”
“Yes,” he said again, but offered nothing more.
She swallowed an inexplicable lump in her throat. “Was it serious?”
“We considered marriage.”
“But you broke up.”
“She did not fancy life in a backwater like Jawhar.”
The way he said the words, Catherine got the impression he was quoting the faceless woman he had once considered marrying verbatim.
“But you live in Seattle.”
“At the time, my plans were to return to my homeland.”
“She refused to go with you?” Catherine was incredulous. How could any woman who loved him turn down a lifetime with Hakim, no matter where they lived?
“Yes. When do you plan to tell your parents of our engagement?”
Knowing he had loved another woman enough to want marriage hurt, even though she knew it shouldn’t and she was more than willing to go along with his abrupt change in conversation.
Nevertheless, his question caught her unawares. Tell her parents? What would happen if he backed out? She still couldn’t quite believe Hakim wanted her, wanted to marry her.
Stop it right there, she firmly told herself.
She wasn’t going to live in fear of rejection for the rest of her life. She had to stop reacting like the emotionally scarred preadolescent or physically scarred teenager she had been and start acting like the future wife of a sheikh.
“I can tell my mother this morning.”
A strange expression crossed his face. “What of your father?”
That would concern Hakim. Parental approval was a big thing in his culture… in hers too, really. They just went about different ways of getting it. He asked beforehand while she’d learned it was easier to get her parents blessing on a project than their permission before starting it.
She looked at the clock which read seven-thirty. “He’s already at work, but Mom will be home for another couple of hours.”
“Then let us call her.”
They did and Lydia Benning was ecstatic at the news her youngest daughter was finally getting married. Catherine grimaced at the phone. Twenty-four was not that old.
“You’ll have to bring him for dinner tonight. I’ll call right now and invite Felicity and Vance,” she said, naming Catherine’s sister and brother-in-law. “I can’t wait to welcome the man who wants to marry my little girl. He’s a sheikh—that’s just so romantic.”
After gushing for another full five minutes, she cut the connection.
Catherine smiled at Hakim. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve agreed to dinner at my parents’ house tonight.”
“So I gathered. I will pick you up here.”
“We could just meet there. They don’t live all that far from your penthouse building.”
“I’ll be here at six-thirty to escort you.”
“So, she’s agreed has she?” Harold Benning made no effort to disguise the satisfaction he felt at the news Hakim had recently imparted. His brown eyes fairly sparked with it.