Page 37 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

There was a knock on the door they’d entered through, and as she slipped out through the other exit he took out his phone and started talking in Arabic.

Carter called his name, opening the door the moment she’d slipped away.

Damn.

She stood in the tiny bathroom, frantically smoothing her hair and toning down her cheeks.

She wasn’t stinging from rejection—she’d grown up with it, refused to react... She was just annoyed that Sahir was doing what he considered the right thing by her.

What he didn’t get was that she’d been waiting a long time to feel so right, so sure, so...

Damn.

Why did she have to get a decent bastard?

‘There you are!’

Grace was smiling as Violet duly came out of the restroom, her lip-gloss back on, her smile in place, trying to act normal—as if her legs knew how to walk and she hadn’t just glimpsed paradise.

‘We’re heading off,’ Grace told her. ‘Carter’s just rounding up Sahir.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I know he doesn’t like me...’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘He thinks it’s all about money...’ She looked at Violet then. ‘You think so too.’

‘Not any more,’ Violet admitted, and gave her friend a hug. ‘I love you, Mrs Bennett...’

‘I love you too,’ Grace told her, then whispered, ‘Don’t tell a soul...you’re going to be an aunty...’

Violet tried not to squeal. Because even if she wasn’t technically going to be an aunty, they were closer than many sisters and it was just the most wonderful news. So brilliant that even deep kisses and sexy Sahir were momentarily forgotten as the news sank in.

‘I’m so happy...’ She hugged Grace tighter. ‘Oh, my, God...’

She felt dizzy, and then suddenly guilty that she’d been so wrong about them both. And as the party headed out to the waiting car, and she saw the smiles on the newlyweds’ faces and realised that she’d been trusted with a precious secret, a huge wave of emotion hit her—a delectable moment when everything felt right in the world.

Indeed, one kiss was all Sahir would be granting. What a kiss, though...

The afternoon and evening had raced by, and the wedding had been made both interesting and fun—and fun wasn’t something Sahir either sought or was particularly used to.

And now it would seem it was over, because duty had tried to call—the reason he’d had to slip off earlier, even though his phone was effectively off, save for one particular line.

‘Did you find out who was trying to get hold of me?’ he asked Pria.

‘It was an error,’ Pria told him. ‘They were checking procedures for tomorrow.’

Reassured, he headed out to the street and stood on the other side of the carpet from Violet, hands in his pockets, watching Carter and Grace get into the car. He glanced down the street and saw Maaz a couple of doors down, and Layla in her car.

Very deliberately, he was doing all he could not to look at Violet.

Once the newlyweds had gone, he’d head back to the restaurant, wish Violet goodnight and then he would head home.

He could still smell Violet’s meadowy scent on his jacket, still feel the slight sheen of her gloss on his mouth—or was that more a case of wishful thinking?

He was in no mood for a virgin.

Okay, he was very much in the mood for a certain virgin—but he was trying to do the right thing here.

Grace threw the bouquet, and—phew! Violet didn’t even leap to catch it, instead that blond bastard caught it.

---