Craving Temptation by Deborah Fletcher Mello

on Amina’s shoulders. “It is an honor for us to finally meet you, Amina. Your father has always spoken very highly of you.”
    Amina nodded. “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you all as well.”
    Kareem Fayed had a pleasant face and generous smile and he greeted Amina as if they were long-lost friends. “Amina, it’s good to see you,” he said, reaching for both of her hands.
    He was tall and lean, his dark complexion complemented by a dark brown Hugh Jackman haircut. He gripped her fingers just a touch too tightly, the gesture making Amina feel slightly uncomfortable. She tried to pull her hands from his without showing her uneasiness, her own smile waning substantially. Mr. Fayed had not bothered to speak, still standing there and appraising her. She nodded in his direction, lowering her eyes to show him respect as her father moved to her side.
    Nasser wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I have been friends with the Fayed family since before you children were born. I regret that you and Kareem didn’t grow up together like he and Basil did so that you two could have gotten to know each other sooner.” He gestured for them all to take a seat.
    Hearing his name Basil eagerly joined the conversation. “Kareem and I have been friends since forever. We are more like brothers than anything else. And my brother here is a real estate broker. He and I have done much business together,” he said.
    â€œI actually own a very successful real estate investment firm,” Kareem clarified.
    â€œKareem is also one of the founding members of our young men’s group at the mosque,” her father added as he listed a host of Kareem’s other accomplishments.
    Amina suddenly felt as if she were observing some ritual she had no understanding of. She looked to her brother who seemed oblivious to her confusion. Mrs. Fayed chuckled softly, seeming to read Amina’s mind.
    â€œYou must excuse the men, Amina. They have no decorum when it comes to a woman’s destiny,” she said, her tone teasing.
    â€œI’m not sure I understand,” Amina responded.
    Mrs. Fayed gave her another wide smile. “When you were just a baby your father and my husband negotiated a marriage commitment between you and my son. Of course, now that you two are adults you both have complete say whether or not to honor that commitment but I’m confident that once you and my son spend time together and get to know one another that you will think we made a wise choice for you both.”
    Her eyes wide, Amina shot her father a look, then rested her eyes on Kareem, who was staring at her intently. His grin was a mile wide. “I know that I am ready to honor that commitment as soon as you are comfortable with doing so, Amina,” he said. “I look forward to making you my wife.”

9
    Harper was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. She and Amina sat Indian-style in the center of the queen-size bed in Harper’s guest bedroom. They’d been talking since Amina had shown up hours earlier, neither woman in any hurry.
    â€œSo you’ve been engaged since you were an infant!” Harper exclaimed excitedly.
    Amina shook her head vehemently. “Is that not crazy? I know that arranged marriages are perfectly acceptable in some cultures but it’s the twenty-first century. Did my father really think I’d marry some guy he picked out for me twenty-plus years ago?”
    Harper nodded, her laugh dropping to a loud giggle. “I really want to see Troy’s face when you tell him! You have to let me be there.”
    Amina rolled her eyes skyward. “I have no intentions of telling Troy this. He’ll think my entire family is crazy.”
    â€œOh, you’re going to tell him. I just want to be a fly on the wall when you do!”
    Amina’s head waved from side to side. “It’s just too much, Harper! What do I