Page 15 of The Sheik's Pretend Fiancee
Angela jerked back to the present and looked up at him, her heart aching at the disapproval in his eyes. “Dad,” she urged, “Sheik el Maistri struggles with insomnia like I do. He had the same idea – to find a quiet place to work. I was working on my notes. I even had my laptop with me. And Tiro…uh…Sheik el Maistri…,” she corrected again, “came over and we…well, we debated.It was really nice, Dad.” Angelaglanced at her mother. “We had a long, animated conversation about world politics, we laughed about the stupid gossip discussed over the weekend at the conference. We debated the issues between our countries and came to a possible resolution about certain subjects. I have everything ready to send to Uncle Khal. I was just waiting until I could personally bring up the subject.” She sighed. “At the gala that night, I didn’t dance with him.During dinner, we were seated at opposite sides of the room.”
“So last night’s kiss was…what?” Raj snapped. “It was just a misunderstanding after a heated political debate?”
Angela’s exhaustion caused her temper to flare hotter and faster than normal. “That’s not fair!”
“Angela!” he came right back, “he’s announced your engagement to the world! There’s nothing fair about this!”
“He hasn’t!” she yelled back.“It was just a kiss!” She turned,running her fingers through her still wet hair. “We got up from the table, both of us aware of the time. We knew that we needed to return to our private quarters. I was completely aware of the time and knew that…” she paused, realizing she appeared guilty, so she slowed down a little. “I knew that I had to return to my suite to get ready to fly home. I told him that tonight was Zayn’s birthday party.”
“Okay. Fine.” Raj shifted on his feet. “I still don’t know how this whole thing ended in a kiss.”
Helen stepped forward, putting herself in between Raj and their daughter. “I think that’s obvious,” she told him in a quiet, firm voice.
“Not to me,” Raj replied, but his voice had softened. It always turned softer whenever he spoke to his wife. They might have been married for more than two decades, but the passion was still there, always simmering, ready to boil at the slightest provocation.
“There is an attraction between Angela and Sheik el Maistri,” Helen replied, her tone implying that this should be obvious. “I think that it would be a good idea to–”
“NO!” Angela interrupted. “We donotneed to delve into that kiss any deeper,” she announced, her face flaming with color. “I’ve been acting as an ambassador for Lativa for several years now,” she continued. “I’ve never messed up.I’ve done a great deal of good for Lativa.” She stepped forward now, notallowing her mother to keep shielding her.“I’m twenty-five years old, Dad.” She felt her faceburn hotter. “I’ve kissed other men and they haven’t announced an engagement.”
His anger eased ever so slightly.“I know that, honey.” He reachedfor her, pulling her into his embrace, his big, powerful arms soothing as they comforted her. “But those…whatever,” he grunted, unwilling to use romantic terms, “weren’t with a powerful world leader, nor were they captured on video and sent out for the public’s delectation.” He pulled back,frowning down at her. “Everyone is talking about the…,” he hesitated.
Helen suppliedthe word, “Kiss, dear.” She sighed, obviously irritated with her husband’s hypocrisy. “It was just a kiss.”
He scowled at her, still holding Angela in a hug. “It looked like more than just a kiss.”
Angela pulled away from her father, confused.“What did it look like?I saw it briefly this morning when I was….” She stopped, not wanting to toss a murder investigation into the fires of this conversation.
Raj continued to scowl, but Helen moved closer, putting a gentle hand on Angela’s forearm. “It looked like,” she sighed, then continued, “a prelude, dear. That kiss was passionate enough to seem like a prelude to something more.”
“It looked like you were about to head off to his hotel room,” her father snarled.
Angela opened her mouth to lambast her father for daring to suggest something like that. But the words wouldn’t come. Her lips moved and she tried to deny that possibility, but the truth was, even now, she could feel echoes of Tiro’s touch along her back and arms. She hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight home because she’d continuously wondered what it would have been like if he’d moved his hands to other places on her body. Places that still ached, even hours after she’d left his presence.
Her father turned away, muttering a series of curses under his breath. Not softly enough that she didn’t understand him. The obvious depth of his disapproval made the color drain from her face.
Angela tucked her chin, ashamed of her behavior. “Nothing happened, Dad,” she whispered.
His head swiveled around and he started to say something. But again, her mother stepped in front of her. “And what if somethinghadhappened?” she challenged. “I’ve always said that women need to know a man,trulyknow a man, before they commit themselves to a long term relationship.” She stepped closer, poking a finger into Raj’s chest. “You even agreed with me.”
“In theory,” he argued. He scowled fiercely down at his daughter. “Not in practice.”
“That’s just stupid misogyny talking. Raj,” Helen asserted firmly. “And you know it. Any man who thinks a woman has to be ‘pure’ until she’s married must think that the man needs to get a ring on the woman’s finger before she realizes he’s a selfish lover.”
Angela had heard this argument before. Her mother and aunts were adamant that the purity culture was a toxic issue. And it was true. There was no rational reason why men should get to go around having sex with women before marriage while women were expected to remain chaste. It was hypocrisy at its highest. The only reason men didn’t want women to be experienced was so women wouldn’t realize what they were missing. Sexually experienced women were a threat to a man’s views on his sexual prowess.
However, Angela also knew that her father had grown up with that kind of attitude. Women were chaste homebodies, while men were adventurers.
Before anyone could respond to that, a knock sounded on Angela’s door. Apparently, there was still one person who respected her personal space, she thought with a raised eyebrow directed toward her father. He merely frowned at her, arrogant to the nth degree.
“Come in!” she called out. Obviously, the door wasn’t locked. No one locked their doors in the palace, just in case the bodyguards needed to get in. They never entered her personal space unless they needed to check the interior, and they always warned her before they did so.
Her Uncle Khal stepped into her apartment, clearly concerned. His wife, Tasha, accompanied him. Zayn, their oldest son and the crown prince of Lativa, might have inherited his father’s slight dimples, but their daughter, Nahla, had inherited Tasha’s lovely, blue eyes. Since blue eyes were recessive, there must have been an ancestor in Khal’s past who had passed along the other half of the recessive gene, because Nahla was the only one among Angela’s cousins who had inherited them.
Angela turned to face her intimidating but wonderful, sweet, generous uncle, praying that he would understand. “It wasjusta kiss!”
Her Uncle Khal sighed heavily.
“The video of the kiss is going viral all over the world. I’m getting calls from foreign leaders asking me if the animosity between Lativa and Ginisia is easing. They are assuming that you’re relationship with Sheik el Maistri is a signthat I’m open to reducing tariffs and restrictions between Lativa and Ginisia.” Herubbed a hand over his face. “Apparently, el Maistri is ready to talk as well.” He pausedpointedly before continuing. “He called me and we worked out a deal.”
