The Sheikh's Second Chance Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 5) (5 page)

Something shifted deep inside him. At first, there was an impulse to race after his father and try to persuade him that what had been said was utterly wrong.
 

But, Malik knew there was no point in doing that.

Once that impulse had been put to one side, Malik was left with one simple, powerful urge.

He would prove his father wrong. Malik would show his father that he did understand what it meant to be a sheikh.
 

A real man, as his father had so acidly observed.

If that meant finding a wife, then so be it. Who was to say Malik couldn't satisfy his father's whims and marry, albeit as a matter of convenience. Malik was sure he could do such a thing and still retain most of the life he enjoyed so much.

Couldn't he?

Malik straightened the collar of his shirt. The late afternoon air was starting to cool. But, there would be nothing cool about his pursuit of what he wanted; what he needed.

Malik required a willing wife.

And he knew just where to start.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was just like New York, Lana told herself. Looking across a crowded room at Malik; seeing him with other people chatting politely, trying to make himself look respectable. Only this time the hundred or so people in the room were very different from those at the fundraiser in New York. Here was the cream of Qazhar society decked out in their finery, elegant tailored suits mingling with traditional white robes and headdresses.
 

There was that same feeling of wealth and privilege, but here it felt somehow different. It was a strange mixture that made Lana feel very much out of place. Considering her own humble origins, Lana wondered if she'd ever feel at home amongst these kind of people. She drove that thought away. No sense in dwelling on the past.

The palace reception room itself was a like something out of a fantasy. High ceiling, ornately carved pillars; decorative wall panels; mosaic floor. Lana felt small in the space. The cool evening air swept in through the open doors to the terrace. There was a hint of the desert in the scent of the air that merely added to the strangeness.

Earlier, as promised, Mia had found Lana a white gown that was beautiful and fitted her quite well. The outfit was a curious mixture of Western elegance and traditional Qazhar style robes that wouldn't have seemed out of place on the person of a local princess. Lana wondered how she looked to the others in the room. Did she look like some upstart Westerner trying to pretend to be something she wasn't?
 

Lana took a sip of her sparkling water and shrugged. She didn't care, really. She knew why she was here in this exotic kingdom so far from home. Once the wedding was over, she'd be on her way home, pleased for her friend, but eager to resume her own life.

Lana was momentarily alone by the wide opening to the terrace. The breeze swept in from the terrace, making the loose fabric of her long robe shift around her legs. She glanced across the room, involuntarily checking where Malik was. Now why was she even doing such a thing, she asked herself.

Lana searched the far side of the room, but there was no sign of Malik. Lana saw Mia and Rafiq mingling happily with the guests. They both looked so happy together. Lana smiled. She was glad for Mia.
 

Lana ran her gaze around the room.
 

Where was Malik?

She felt that same combination of sensations she'd felt in New York. Irritation and curiosity. Why was she even concerned about his absence? What business was it of Lana's what Malik Al Kharif did with himself?

There was no sign of him. In spite of herself, she quickly scanned the room, one last time, trying not to seem to eager.
 

She couldn't see him. If he'd been in the room, it would have been obvious. There was no mistaking Malik. He was taller than most of the people in the room, and his stark good looks were instantly recognizable, even from a distance.

After a few moments, she started to really wonder where he'd gone. Maybe he'd become bored with proceedings. Maybe he had other things to attend to. Perhaps even other women to spend time with. Lana frowned at the emotional tug that thought produced in her middle. Too many bubbles in the water, she told herself.

Then she felt a soft touch on her elbow. An electric sensation shot up her arm and throughout her torso. It was like someone had connected her skin to a source of dangerous power. She twisted her head as she heard a voice, a very familiar deep, resonating sound.
 

"Looking for someone?" Malik asked.

Lana froze. Malik was standing by her side. His gaze was even and penetrating, and she felt a curious sensation vibrate throughout her body.
 
Pleasure? Relief? Surely not that.

Lana stiffened. "Not at all. I was just looking at the kinds of people who've come this evening. It's quite a turnout." Lana didn't think she sounded at all convincing.

"Really," Malik stated, and it wasn't a question so much as a flat statement of disbelief.
 

Lana took a quick sip of her water. Why was her heart beating so fast?
 

Malik moved around placing himself between the rest of the room and Lana. Up close he seemed even larger, even more of a primal presence. His shoulders filled that dark suit and the jacket tapered to his trim waist, one single button preventing any view of Malik's undeniably tight middle. Lana recalled being so close to Malik in the limo. She'd done everything in her power to avoid looking at him. In the limo, it had been easy, even although he'd been pressing up close to her. Mia had claimed all of Lana's attention then.

But now, there was no avoiding Malik.

It was as if he was challenging her to try and ignore him.

"May I say you look wonderful in that outfit," Malik said. His gaze ran hungrily down the length of her body, and she suddenly felt as if she was being assessed, scrutinized. The thing was, it looked very much as if Malik approved of what his ravenous gaze was taking in.
 

She shifted on her heels, placing a hand across her middle, a gesture which made Malik's eyes narrow imperceptibly. Did he sense her nerves, her awkwardness? What would he think of it?

Lana waved her hand casually. "It's something that Mia had, but hadn't yet worn. It fits. Kind of, I suppose," Lana explained.

Malik nodded appreciatively. "I like the way it combines your world and mine," he said.
 

Lana squinted at Malik. "What a quaint way of putting it," she said.

"Quaint?" he said, one brow rising.

"You talk about Qazhar as if it's a different world from where I come from," she said.

"Don't you think it is?"

Lana shook her head. "Not really. We're all just basically people, aren't we?"

Malik frowned. "I don't think so. Qazhar is a very special place."

"I don't deny that," Lana said. "It's just that men are men and women are women, no matter where you come from. Isn't that so?" Lana said.

Malik paused, his gaze drifting away to the terrace behind her. There was thought in those eyes, Lana told herself. He was considering what she'd just said and taking a long time about it.
 

His gaze ran down the length of her gown. "Still, you look almost like a princess in that outfit," he declared. His voice had a firm assured tone as if he would accept no disagreement.

Lana felt her cheeks flush. Had he just called her a princess?

"I wouldn't go that far," she said hesitantly.

Malik took one step closer. Lana saw his tongue moisten his lower lip with a slow, almost casual movement. "I would go that far." His gaze flickered down to her breasts. Even though the design of the gown only revealed her throat and neck, she could see he was captivated by the fullness of her body hidden within the gown.
 

His gaze settled on her eyes again. The way he looked at her made something shift deep inside herself. She was momentarily lost for words. All she could hear was the steady murmur of guests' voices.

The corner of his mouth creased with a gentle smile. Then he broke the silence."Would you care to step out onto the terrace? The air is a little stifling in here, don't you think?" he suggested.

Lana glanced over Malik's shoulder. No-one seemed to be paying them any attention. She nodded. "I think that would be nice," she replied suddenly feeling that perhaps being alone with Malik on the terrace might not be the best thing she'd agreed to this evening.

Malik reached over and gently touched her upper arm. Even through the fabric of her gown, even with the softness of his touch, she felt the strength of his hand, the assurance of the gesture. It was strangely familiar, considering Lana and he hadn't really spent much time together. They were virtual strangers, really, now that she came to think of it. So how was it that she felt so comfortable with him?

Malik led Lana out onto the terrace. They halted in front of the balustrade. The silvery light of the full moon made the garden shimmer with a subtle dream-like glow.
 
Lana closed her eyes and lifted her chin. She drew in a deep breath. The air was so much cooler out here, she thought. The scent of the garden filled her nostrils.

Lana turned to Malik and saw that he was gazing down at her, a clearly appreciative expression on his face. Lana realized that taking the deep, refreshing breath had made her shoulders rise, her full breasts obviously becoming a focus for Malik's sudden attention.

Lana felt her face color and she turned rapidly away from Malik. She put her glass down on the marble balustrade and rested her hands on the cool stone. She realized she was relieved to be away from the hubbub of the reception. Mia was the real center of attention and not the strange American woman who must seem so out of place. Because that was what Lana felt like. Like a fish out of water.

Malik moved slightly closer to Lana, laying one of his hands next to hers on the balustrade.

"This is a very beautiful place," she said.

"The whole kingdom is wonderful," he replied.
 

"You must be so proud of your brother," Lana said.

Malik's brows furrowed. "Why is that?" he said looking at Lana.

Lana squinted at Malik. "I mean, with his upcoming marriage. It's such an important thing, don't you agree?"

Malik turned and gazed out across the garden. He paused for a few moments and then spoke in a flat tone. "I suppose marriage is good for some people."

Lana frowned at Malik trying to catch his attention, but he continued to stare resolutely out across the garden. "But not for everyone?" she asked.

Lana saw Malik's lips tighten into a thin line. Was he smiling? Was he being sarcastic?

"I guess it has its advantages," he said evenly. "It depends on the people involved. Everyone has their reasons for marrying."

"That sounds cynical," Lana said.

Malik nodded. "Perhaps it does." He turned and looked at Lana and there was a curious expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite fathom. "But, marriage is usually about mutual gain."

Lana's body stiffened. "What about love?"

The word sounded so strange on her lips and the moment she had uttered it she immediately regretted using such language. She saw Malik's reaction, saw the effect on him. He looked suddenly more pensive, more thoughtful. The hardness of a moment before had disappeared.

"What about it?" he asked. He leaned an elbow against the balustrade and studied Lana, waiting on her response.

"If there's no love, then people shouldn't marry," Lana declared.

"Not even if there are other considerations?" Malik asked.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Convenience? Necessity?"

Lana frowned. "Are you suggesting that Mia is marrying Rafiq for some reason other than love?"

Malik shook his head. "I can see that my dear brother is very much in love. And it's plain that Mia loves Rafiq, too. But, they are an exception."

"How so?" Lana asked.

Malik sighed. He gazed out across the garden and it seemed to Lana that his mind had drifted to somewhere very different, to some place where memories stung him with barely hidden pain. There was so much she didn't know about Malik. Mia had hinted that Malik was a playboy, that he had a "reputation" as Mia had described it. Lana didn't really know what that meant in Malik's case, but she guessed that a handsome, powerful man with his wealth and privilege might lead a life that Lana could barely imagine.

After a few moments, he turned and peered at Lana. "I've seen too much to really believe that true love even exists. The world is full of people who merely seek out their own selfish interests."

The statement startled Lana. If she was honest, it was actually a shocking statement. He didn't believe in love? How could someone like him say such a thing?

"Are you telling me that you don't think true love exists?" Lana asked, trying to contain the incredulity in her voice.

Malik shrugged. "I don't think it's such a shocking thing to say."

Lana exhaled. "I don't think life is worth living if there's no love."

Malik's eyes narrowed. "Really?"

Lana nodded. "I only have to see how happy Mia is to be convinced that love is everything."

"More important than money and wealth?"

Lana scowled at Malik. "Of course, it's more important than those things. Plenty of poor people fall in love and live happily ever after."

She saw his jaw tighten and there was a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. "You'd be surprised at how many people I've known who would laugh at such a view of life."

"I don't care about those kinds of people. I've seen enough evidence of true love in people I've known."

Malik seemed suddenly curious. "Tell me about yourself, Lana," he ordered bluntly as if he had every right just to demand a full disclosure of her life. But, he wasn't going to find out anything about her. She was determined that wasn't going to happen. Not here. Not now.

Lana turned away from Malik. She drew her lips into a thin, hard line.