“Really? Me and how many other women?”
Ahmed stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that what you think of me? My father has no respect for me. Thinks I am a boy, not a man. He thinks marriage will make me grow up.”
Melanie hugged herself. Her stomach was queasy again. “And is he right?”
Turning away, Ahmed took three steps to the door and stopped. He turned back to her. “Does it matter what he thinks? I will have his respect someday. I will have yours.”
Melanie shook her head. “Really? You’re just going to order it and that will make it so? Ahmed, it doesn’t work like that. Respect is earned. And it’s my company you hired—you didn’t buy me. Now, excuse me. I have work to do. It seems like maybe you do have a few things yet to learn besides cooking.”
10
Ahmed got Nasiji’s text message after he had showered and dressed in jeans and a light, linen shirt. His father would not approve of the jeans, but Ahmed intended to tell his father that Nasiji liked Western clothing. That would irritate the old man.
Heading down into the garden, he met Nasiji beside the fountain. They would be able to see anyone coming from here, and the splash of the water would cover up anything Nasiji had to say.
Stopping in front of her, he crossed his arms. “What is it?”
Nasiji pulled back her veil, lifted her skirts, slipped out of her sandals and slid her bare feet into the fountain. “It’s going to be hot today.”
“It already is. What did you want to see me about?”
“About?” She glanced up at him, her green eyes pale and sparking. “How can you ask that? The wedding comes at us fast and your plans seem to be going nowhere.”
“Nonsense. They’re working very well. You must complain more. Tell that wedding planner—”
“Her name is Madam Zolest.”
“Yes, well, tell her you have changed your mind about the colors. Bright colors, or make it all white, with doves and orchids or something else extravagant. My father hates wasting money, so demand real gold in the decorations and ridiculous wedding gifts to hand out. And make certain this wedding planner…this Madam Zolest sends immediate bills to my father. And we must do more to irritate yours.”
Nasiji splashed her feet. “This is only going to get me married to my father’s horrible cousin.”
“No, I’ve been thinking about that. I have arranged for a doctor’s report to be leaked to your father. It seems this aged cousin is now, as the phrase goes, shooting blanks. If your father wants grandchildren, he will not look to that old man to be a husband to you.”
Tuning, Nasiji swung her feet out of the fountain pond and stood. “That, at least, is a good idea, but what about the rest? My father is still expanding the guest list for our wedding! He’s going to see us married, Ahmed!”
He took her hand and patted it. “Calm yourself. The plan is working. I hear from my brothers how my father is already grumbling under his breath, which means he is rethinking this plan of his. He will soon be looking at this as a bad idea and coming up with a scheme to undo it. All we need is to spark one good argument between your father and mine over this wedding and they will both call it off and think they have done good in ending an alliance that could only disgrace both families.”
She frowned and pulled her hand away. “Really? Then you had better not keep flirting with that caterer. Oh, don’t open your mouth to deny it and give me those big, innocent eyes. I hear the maids gossip, and they see more than you think. You father is going to think you need a wife to settle you more than ever if you keep flirting with that American.”
Ahmed stiffened. “That is none of your business.”
“This is my business, for it is my life. Put your mind to ending the wedding, not to getting into the pants of that American. You’ll have time to do her in the kitchens if you wish after this wedding is called off.”
Throat tight and the pulse pounding in his jaw, Ahmed leaned forward. “You will do well not to mention Melanie again to me. Or I will simply walk away from this and leave you to your fa
ther’s plans.”
He turned and strode away, the pulse still pounding hard.
He did not know why Nasiji’s words should anger him so much, but Melanie was nothing to do with Nasiji. The need to see Melanie swept into him. He had to know she was well. He headed to the kitchens. Was she not always there?
As usual, he found her working with batters and mixers and what looked like cakes. Oddly, however, her staff was not also busy with her. He paused in the doorway, one hand holding open the door, to watch her.
She stood with her back to him, bent over, her black slacks showing off the curve of her hips and her round ass. Her dark hair for once was pinned back in a clip. She seemed to sense him, for she straightened and looked up at him, her green eyes brightening for an instant and then a frown pulling her dark eyebrows flat.
“Where is everybody?” he asked and strolled into the kitchen.
“I gave them the afternoon off.” She gave a shrug. Flour dusted her pants and her fingers. “Told them to go sightseeing. I’m still working on menus and trying to figure out what’s a traditional but not too traditional wedding cake.”