Free The Sheikh's Illicit Affair by Holly Rayner, Lara Hunter Page A

doing. Spending as much time together as possible before the wedding, after which we’ll never see each other again.
     
     
    This is crazy, Meg. Just crazy.
     
     
    I know.
     
     
    Get some rest!
     
     
    Only if you promise not to get any!
     
     
    Funny. Go to sleep!
     
     
    Megan laid down on the couch. She usually didn’t sleep well on planes, but she’d never been able to stretch fully out, with a warm blanket, and lie down on padded leather. She expected her mind to keep her up, busy as it was. But when she lay down, she drifted off to sleep in moments.

TEN

When Megan woke up, Zaakir was still sitting at the table, watching the news. Light was seeping in through the windows and it felt like many hours had passed.
     
    “What time is it?” she asked blearily.
     
    “Good morning.” He looked at his phone. “New York time or Al-Sharrabi time?”
     
    “Umm… How many hours has it been since we left New York?”
     
    “Around nine. We’ll land in another two hours.”
     
    She sat up, rubbing her eyes and fluffing her hair. “I can’t believe I slept so long. Didn’t you sleep?”
     
    “I did. I woke up a short time ago. Would you like some coffee?”
     
    “Yes, please.” She sat across from him and glanced at the TV. “Anything good going on in the world?”
     
    “Is there ever?”
     
    “Sure there is, just not that the news tells us about. Last night, someone was kissed for the first time, someone fell in love, someone got engaged, someone else got married, someone had a baby.” She clasped her hands together on the table and gave him a dramatically dreamy smile.
     
    He chuckled. “And someone else was murdered, someone was robbed, someone had their heart broken.”
     
    She let her smile fall. “Well, good morning to you, too,” she said flatly.
     
    A dark-haired woman Megan hadn’t seen before came through a curtain into their section of the jet. She was carrying a tray with plates full of bacon, eggs, toast, juice, and oranges. She set the tray down between them.
     
    “Can I get you anything else?” the stewardess asked brightly.
     
    “Coffee for Miss Van Lieden and I’ll need a refill as well,” Zaakir said.
     
    “Of course.” The woman walked away and Zaakir gestured to the food. “Help yourself. I asked them to make my usual breakfast, but I was unsure what you like to eat in the mornings.”
     
    “Usually, it’s just coffee and a protein bar. This is great.” She slid her plate closer and picked up her fork to dig in.
     
    They ate together in silence, but for the low volume of the newscaster’s voice. Megan sighed as she thought about how nice it felt just to sit quietly with someone and eat breakfast together.
     
    He looked up at her. “Something wrong?”
     
    “No… These eggs are just really good.”
     
    “Oh. Good.”
     
    When they’d finished, the stewardess returned and said to Zaakir, “We’ll be landing in an hour.”
     
    Megan took advantage of that time to go into the bathroom and clean up. The bathroom was at least three times the size of the largest airplane bathroom she’d seen, and it included a shower at one end. She thought of taking a quick shower, but didn’t think there would be enough time, and found herself wishing she’d come in sooner.
     
    She found the toothbrush and hairbrush Zaakir had said was in there for her, and cleaned up the best she could with her limited supplies. Luckily, she had her makeup with her in her bag. She applied a little and looked over herself in the mirror. It would have to do.
     
    There was a knock at the door. “Just a minute,” she said.
     
    “Miss Van Lieden? I have your clothing for you.”
     
    Megan frowned. Her clothing? What clothing? She had nothing else with her besides the outfit she’d worn to walk to and from the studio yesterday.
     
    She opened the door and the stewardess handed her a hanger with a plastic garment bag attached to it.
     
    “It may not be what you’re used to