The Sheikh's Reunion Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs 4) by Cara Albany Page B
Authors: Cara Albany
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, series, Billionaire, Bachelor, multicultural, Arranged marriage, best friend, Sheikh, second chance, reconciliation, society, reunion, older brother, tycoon, Forever Love, Single Woman, Qazhar Sheikhs, Three Brothers, Love Search, Summer Fling, Cousin, Crisis Looming, Captivated, Forgotten, Hurtful History, Forgiven Past
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both sat on a comfortable sofa out on the balcony. The sun was setting behind the distant dunes and the sprinklers had started covering the green grass of the luxurious garden with a necessary moistness. The air was beginning to cool and Mia felt the slight chill against the skin of her bared shoulders.
Rafiq sat by her side and seemed to immediately notice the change in Mia. "Are you feeling warm enough?" he asked.
Mia nodded. "I'm fine," she replied, even though the thought of him rushing to get her a blanket to take away the chill did give her a momentary, reassuring rush of satisfaction.
Rafiq didn't look convinced by her refusal. "Maybe we should go inside, anyway," he said. "I did promise you a tour of the palace."
He had been so attentive to her every need. Mia had never felt so special, never experienced being the complete focus of a man's attention quite like this. In spite of her earlier reservations, she had to admit it did feel good to allow Rafiq to be the perfect host he so obviously was.
Mia took a sip of her tea. "It's getting late. Don't you think?"
"If you're tired, perhaps we can do it tomorrow," he suggested. He looked disappointed. She could see that he was proud of the place where he had grown up. Maybe it wouldn't do any harm to let him show her around.
"Okay. Show me your wonderful palace," she agreed.
Rafiq's smile was wide with gratification. He leaped up from the sofa and extended a hand down to Mia. She looked up at him. There was a natural excitement in his gaze, as if he couldn't wait to show her the one place in the world that meant so much to him.
Mia put her cup on the side table, took his hand and let him assist her as she stood up. She felt his fingers tighten slightly around her hand, and a surprising, but very welcome and delicious sensation raced along her arm. Mia breathed in the cooling night air and shifted her gaze away from Rafiq and out to the beautifully manicured garden.
Mia gently eased her hand out of Rafiq's grasp eager to change the focus of his attention away from her, even if she was inwardly pleased with his apparent inability to take his eyes off her. Why was that important to her, right now? Hadn't she decided that Rafiq needed to be kept at arms length? Her sudden, slight warming to him had been unavoidable. He'd been the most charming host, so attentive and considerate. Such a contrast to the man who had pursued her at her parents' home during that balmy, warm English summer.
Mia moved to the balustrade and rested her hands on the cool surface. She gazed out at the garden, an Eastern wonder in the middle of a dry, arid wasteland. "This feels so special," she murmured. "It's like a protective barrier around the palace, keeping out the world. How do you keep it so green?"
Mia saw Rafiq at her side. He rested his hands close to hers on the balustrade, not quite touching, but close enough for her to be conscious of the gesture. It was a test, and she responded by leaving her hand right where it was. It didn't feel right to move away from Rafiq, to give him the impression that she wanted to push him away.
Rafiq grunted. "It takes a lot of work to keep it that way," he replied. "I'm not the gardener in the family. We have staff, as I'm sure you've noticed. Most of them have been with our family for years. They are part of our family, really," he said.
"That's so wonderful. Having that tradition."
His gaze flashed at her, and she felt emotion curl inside herself when their eyes met. The light from inside the dining room created contrasting ridges and shadows across his stunningly handsome features. The dark pools of his eyes penetrated her like a physical touch. He was suddenly very serious, deeply earnest about something her comment had touched upon.
"I believe in tradition," he said flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Mia glanced at Rafiq and saw his jaw tighten, his gaze fixed dead ahead, as if suddenly lost in thought. When he spoke
Rafiq sat by her side and seemed to immediately notice the change in Mia. "Are you feeling warm enough?" he asked.
Mia nodded. "I'm fine," she replied, even though the thought of him rushing to get her a blanket to take away the chill did give her a momentary, reassuring rush of satisfaction.
Rafiq didn't look convinced by her refusal. "Maybe we should go inside, anyway," he said. "I did promise you a tour of the palace."
He had been so attentive to her every need. Mia had never felt so special, never experienced being the complete focus of a man's attention quite like this. In spite of her earlier reservations, she had to admit it did feel good to allow Rafiq to be the perfect host he so obviously was.
Mia took a sip of her tea. "It's getting late. Don't you think?"
"If you're tired, perhaps we can do it tomorrow," he suggested. He looked disappointed. She could see that he was proud of the place where he had grown up. Maybe it wouldn't do any harm to let him show her around.
"Okay. Show me your wonderful palace," she agreed.
Rafiq's smile was wide with gratification. He leaped up from the sofa and extended a hand down to Mia. She looked up at him. There was a natural excitement in his gaze, as if he couldn't wait to show her the one place in the world that meant so much to him.
Mia put her cup on the side table, took his hand and let him assist her as she stood up. She felt his fingers tighten slightly around her hand, and a surprising, but very welcome and delicious sensation raced along her arm. Mia breathed in the cooling night air and shifted her gaze away from Rafiq and out to the beautifully manicured garden.
Mia gently eased her hand out of Rafiq's grasp eager to change the focus of his attention away from her, even if she was inwardly pleased with his apparent inability to take his eyes off her. Why was that important to her, right now? Hadn't she decided that Rafiq needed to be kept at arms length? Her sudden, slight warming to him had been unavoidable. He'd been the most charming host, so attentive and considerate. Such a contrast to the man who had pursued her at her parents' home during that balmy, warm English summer.
Mia moved to the balustrade and rested her hands on the cool surface. She gazed out at the garden, an Eastern wonder in the middle of a dry, arid wasteland. "This feels so special," she murmured. "It's like a protective barrier around the palace, keeping out the world. How do you keep it so green?"
Mia saw Rafiq at her side. He rested his hands close to hers on the balustrade, not quite touching, but close enough for her to be conscious of the gesture. It was a test, and she responded by leaving her hand right where it was. It didn't feel right to move away from Rafiq, to give him the impression that she wanted to push him away.
Rafiq grunted. "It takes a lot of work to keep it that way," he replied. "I'm not the gardener in the family. We have staff, as I'm sure you've noticed. Most of them have been with our family for years. They are part of our family, really," he said.
"That's so wonderful. Having that tradition."
His gaze flashed at her, and she felt emotion curl inside herself when their eyes met. The light from inside the dining room created contrasting ridges and shadows across his stunningly handsome features. The dark pools of his eyes penetrated her like a physical touch. He was suddenly very serious, deeply earnest about something her comment had touched upon.
"I believe in tradition," he said flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Mia glanced at Rafiq and saw his jaw tighten, his gaze fixed dead ahead, as if suddenly lost in thought. When he spoke
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