Page 17 of The Sheikh's Fake Fiancée

“So soon?” Zania asked, alarm pulsing through her.

Shamsa’s laugh tinkled like a bell. “Tonight is nothing more than your introduction to society, my dear. The official party will be much more…official. Anyone and everyone of note will be here.”

Zania resisted telling her to scrub Sheikha Aisha off the list. There was no point in shining a light on their now soured friendship. “Sounds perfect,” she said weakly.

Shamsa nodded regally. “You’ll do fine. You’re a natural, Zania. You were born for this role.”

Chapter Ten

Zania’s heels clacked on the marble corridor as she followed Kain back to their suite of rooms. For the life of her, she couldn’t recall the dinner that had been placed in front of them. All her senses had been zeroed in on Kain…her fake fiancé.

It’d been three days since their supposed engagement, and yet, it seemed like weeks. Probably because she’d spent a month with him on Holly Island before agreeing to his outrageous plan.

Kain paused at the doorway to their rooms. “Having second thoughts, shortcake?”

She shook her head. “No, it just all seems so…deceptive.”

He smiled grimly. “I know what you mean. But we’ve made our bed, and like it or not, we get to sleep in it now.”

A delicate shiver went through her.As if the bed that would soon be in front of her wasn’t suggestive enough! His cryptic words held too many hidden meanings. She cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t the both of us sharing a bed before marriage be some kind of a cardinal sin?”

He undid his keffiyeh headwear and stepped inside. “Fortunately for us, my people turn a blind eye to my proclivities.”

She didn’t want to know about the many other women he’d brought to his bedroom. It made her ill knowing she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last through his bedroom doors. She lifted her chin as she stepped inside and shut the door, all the while fighting off the jealousy wanting to be let out. “And since my reputation is dust now anyway—“

“Let people think what they want.” He turned back to her as she followed him into their bedroom suite, his face barely masking his rage for her. “You’re engaged to me now. Nothing else matters.” He tossed his keffiyeh aside and clasped her hands. “You forget your reputation was unscathed until Tabari dragged your name through the mud.”

“I hate that he got away with it.”

“Did he?”

She frowned. “You’re not really planning some kind of payback, are you?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t fret shortcake. I don’t foresee any physical harm coming his way.”

She frowned. “Then what have you devised?”

He ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “Let’s just say that I own major shares in this country’s media.”

“And?”

“And it would be easy enough to manipulate a word here and there in any number of articles.” He released her hands and drew off his thobe, exposing his golden chest and ripped torso, his muscles flexing and shifting with the motion. His loose white pants beneath only highlighted his masculinity. “Don’t worry, though, every word printed will be nothing but the truth.”

She stepped close, her hand seemingly lifting of its own volition as she touched the smooth, satiny skin on his chest. “I never did thank you.”

He sucked in a breath, his attention absolute. “For what?”

“For saving my reputation. I-I would probably be on the streets now if it wasn’t for you.” Her mother, too, would have been forced out of her specialized care.

“I don’t expect your gratitude,” he said gently, taking hold of her hand and pressing it to his heart. “You’re doing me a favor, too. I haven’t seen my mother so animated and happy in so long.”

Zania dropped her eyes. “She will be devastated when we ‘break up.’”

He sighed heavily. “Things rarely work out how we imagine, do they?”

“No, they don’t.” She looked back up at him, falling a little for him at seeing his abstracted smile, and the way he kept her hand to his chest. “Best laid plans and all that,” she added softly.

“One thing hasn’t changed.”

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