Free The Sheikh's Arranged Marriage: The only thing worse than falling in love with the man she'd married was knowing he would never feel the same... by Clare Connelly Page B

their interaction the day before. “Yesterday you said you’d like to be involved in discussions regarding our transport situation. Is that still the case?”
    She nodded then realised he wasn’t looking at her. “Yes. Of course.”
    “Good.” He turned to leave the room. “Nine o’clock sharp. Your security escort will take you.”
    She heard him say something in Arabic to her guard as he disappeared through the double doors.
    She felt her whole body start to shake. Just the sight of him was enough to rob her of any sense of calm. She scooped up her phone. Nine o’clock start meant she had hardly enough time to shower and prepare for the first of the meetings she hoped to get involved with.
    In the end, she made it with a minute to spare. Dressed in a modest pant suit cut from a beautiful emerald green silk, paired with a crisp white blouse and white pearls, and with her blonde hair pulled back into a neat chignon, she looked far more sophisticated than she felt.
    As she walked into the room, Tariq stood, and everyone followed suit. The chair to his right was empty. “Ladies, Gentlemen, my wife, Her Majesty Queen Rebecca of Assan.”
    She smiled at the crowd with a false confidence and took up the seat he indicated.
    For the most part, she listened, but every now and again, Tariq would turn to her and ask what she thought. Rebecca was surprised to discover her nerves quickly faded completely. Faced with the very real transportation issues gripping Assan, she relished the chance to tackle the problem head on.
    The discussions went all day, but by the end of it, they’d at least agreed that arming drivers was not the way forward. As the various members of the meeting filtered through the door, Tariq remained behind, watching his wife.
    “You did well,” he complimented honestly when they were alone.
    She smiled at him. “So did you.”
    “I have been training for meetings like this all my life. Seeing you today, I would have guessed you had likewise.”
    “My job takes more diplomacy than you would imagine,” she said with a wry twist of her lips.
    “I would like to hear more about your job,” he said simply. “I have dinner plans with Eric this evening. Will you join us?”
    She shook her head. “Surely you’d prefer to catch up with your friend alone?”
    “You are my wife, Rebecca. Eric is an old friend. I would be pleased for you to get to know one another better.” I would be pleased to get to know you better , he added silently. He was being cowardly, pursuing her company with Eric there for safety. In truth he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her. He was trying to be patient, but all day he’d been tormented by the memory of her dancing, the way she’d moved through the air, so fluid and so sexy. Even now, he could feel the tinder paper of need catching fire.
    “In that case, I’d be delighted.” She gave him a tentative smile.
    “We’ll dine casually, in the Ba’tuk. Monique will show you.”
    He stood to leave but the irresistible smell of her perfume, a sweet jasmine and a spicy bergamot teased his nostrils. He placed a kiss on her cheek and took her hands in his. “I mean it. You were outstanding today. A natural.”
    Unaccustomed as she was to praise, his lavish words made her feel a thud of surprise. “Thanks,” she nodded awkwardly.
    A Ba’tuk, Monique informed her an hour later, when she was dressing for dinner, was an Assanian hut designed for outdoor eating. “We were once a nomadic people. Eating under the stars is inherent to who we are. It’s a cornerstone of our culture.”
    The description weaved a spell around Rebecca, but she couldn’t have imagined the beauty and magic of the actual thing. Situated a solid ten minute walk from the royal apartments, the palace Ba’tuk was a thing of breath taking beauty. Where the palace was all splendour and grand proportions, the hut was far simpler in design. Four walls with windows like something she imagined Ali Babar