meat and fish and fruit.
“The blue room.” He looked her over, and she feltthat same flush of heat as his gaze touched her naked skin. “Ten minutes.”
The blue room? Now she knew he was lying. The blue room was for entertaining heads of state! But she’d worry about that later—when she wasn’t naked and confined with him in such a small space! Unwillingly, her eyes fell on the tiny bed between them.
He followed her gaze.
Suddenly, her heart was pounding so loud she could almost hear it. Then he turned toward the door.
“See you at dinner.”
“Yes.” She could suddenly breathe again.
He paused, as his large frame filled the doorway. “It’s good to see you, Jasmine.” And he closed the door behind him.
Good to see her?
As soon as he was gone, she dug frantically through her suitcase and found nothing at all to wear. She lifted up the crumpled green chiffon dress from the floor only to discover a stain on the bodice.
Why was Kareef doing this to her? Why couldn’t they just ignore the past? Why couldn’t they just pretend it did not exist?
You know you cannot marry him.
She took a deep breath. They’d share one meal. He would speak a few careful words, and it would be done. They could both go on with their lives.
She grabbed a white sundress, fresh and pretty with a modest neckline. It wasn’t nearly fancy enough for a fifty-person banquet in the blue room with the king, but it would just have to do. She added sandals and a string of pearls. All sweet and simple, and hers . Not selectedfor her by Umar from a designer boutique. She brushed her long hair, and looked at herself in the mirror.
Bewildered brown eyes looked back at her. She looked young and insecure, nothing like the powerful woman she’d become in New York. Being close to Kareef made her feel vulnerable again. As if she were sixteen.
Her feet dragged as she left her room and headed toward the east wing. The hallways were oddly quiet but she passed two women as she made her way to the blue room—the Sheikha, Kareef’s mother, and her much younger companion trailing behind in her black abaya. The Sheikha saw Jasmine and her wrinkled, kindly face lifted into a vague, benevolent smile. She probably didn’t remember who Jasmine was. Jasmine bowed deeply.
When she looked up, she saw the Sheikha’s companion smiling down at her. It was Sera, her childhood friend! But the Sheikha was in a hurry. Sera had only time to whisper, “Glad you’re back,” before she had to quickly follow her employer down the hall.
A surprised smile rose on Jasmine’s face as she stared after her old friend. Sera still remembered her after all these years? A surge of happiness went through Jasmine, then she turned back to hurry down the hall. The palace seemed strangely silent, almost desolate. Had the big fancy dinner been canceled? Was she late? With a deep breath, Jasmine pushed open the double doors.
The long dining table, big enough to seat forty-eight, was lit by long-tapered candles. Only one person was seated there.
“Jasmine.” Kareef rose to his feet with a short, formal bow. He moved to the place beside his at the table, standing behind her chair. “Please.”
Shocked, she looked right and left. “Where is everyone else?”
“There is no one else.”
“Oh.”
“I told you. Simple and quiet.”
She was having dinner with Kareef…alone? Feeling like she was in a surreal dream, she walked toward the table. The candles flickered light and shadow upon the white wainscoting and pale blue walls of the cavernous room. She swallowed, then lowered herself into her chair. He pushed it forward for her. As if they were on a date.
No—she couldn’t think that way! This was the opposite of a date!
Kareef sat down in the chair beside her, then nodded regally at two servants who appeared from the shadows. She jumped as they took silver lids off trays to serve two exquisite meals of cool salad, cucumbers, exquisite fruits, bread and