He smiled at her uncertainty. “You keep forgetting, I’m the most charming of all my brothers.”
“So you say. I haven’t actually talked to any of your brothers so I only have your word on this.”
He grinned. “You’ll have to trust me.”
For reasons that weren’t clear to her, her gaze dropped to his mouth. She found herself reliving that brief but powerful kiss they’d shared.
She’d reacted so strongly to the lightest of touches. It had been the strangest thing…most likely brought on by too much champagne—even though she couldn’t remember having more than half a glass. Or maybe it had been because she hadn’t eaten. Whatever the cause, it hadn’t meant anything. Forgetting it had ever happened made the most sense. Except she couldn’t seem to forget.
“Maggie? Did you want to make some suggestions?”
“What? Oh. Sure.”
She glanced down at the neatly printed possibilities. There were plays, sporting events, a hospital wing opening. The shower for Kayleen and the wedding to follow were in bold.
“These are…” she asked.
“Required. The shower for you and the wedding for both of us.”
If she’d been standing she would have backed up a couple of feet. “I can’t go to Kayleen’s wedding shower. I barely know her.”
“If we are together, then you are part of the family.”
“I don’t want to lie to your family.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Deception is the nature of our endeavor.”
Most of the time he sounded like a regular guy, but every now and then he said something princelike.
“I’ve never been a very good liar,” she admitted. “I’d hate to see that change.”
He said nothing, as if giving her the time and space to change her mind. Did she want to go through with this?
She thought of her father fading away. He kept making her promise that after he was gone she would try to get the business back. He hated that his illness had caused them to lose everything. She’d never blamed him, never wished for anything except his recovery. She knew he would want her to have a financial cushion. He would probably find the whole situation with Qadir funny. Then he would squeeze her shoulder and tell her not to do anything he wouldn’t do.
The memory made her both happy and sad. With her father gone, she was alone in the world. The deal with Qadir offered her a level of financial freedom she’d never experienced. She would be a fool to walk away.
“I’ve never been to a wedding shower,” she told him. “I’m sure it will be fun.”
“Excellent.”
They discussed other possibilities. There was a car show in neighboring El Bahar. They both agreed that would be a good choice.
“Will you want to pick out the engagement ring?” he asked.
She stabbed her fork into the pasta salad and sighed. “I’d deliberately forgotten about that part of the deal. Do we have to get engaged?”
“If I am to be crushed by your leaving, then yes.”
She tried to imagine him emotionally crushed, but her imagination failed her. Qadir was too strong and in charge.
“You know, you could make this a lot easier by just falling in love with some woman and getting married for real.”
“I am aware of that.”
“You shouldn’t be so picky,” she told him.
“Thank you for that extraordinary advice.”
They returned to the list, but Maggie wasn’t really paying attention. Once again she was remembering the mystery woman from Qadir’s past—and wondering why it hadn’t worked out.
Maggie stared at the clothes in her closet and wished desperately that she’d asked Victoria to help her get ready. She also wished she had at least a couple of nicer outfits. But dining with princes hadn’t been on her weekly agenda in Aspen so her wardrobe tended toward supercasual with the odd somewhat less casual piece thrown in.
Her choices seemed to fall into two categories—long-sleeved T-shirts and short-sleeved T-shirts. She had a couple of blouses, one pair of black slacks and a ball gown that seemed as inappropriate for dinner as one of the T-shirts.
“I came here to work on cars, not date a sheik,” she muttered as she flipped through the meager selection again, desperately hoping to see something she’d missed the first three times.
There was actually one other choice. A simple knit dress that she’d packed on a whim. It was burgundy, plain and a little too fitted for her taste. She’d bought it a couple of years ago when she’d wandered through a mall shortly after finding out her father had been diagnosed with cancer. It had been on sale. She’d tried it on as a distraction and then had purchased it because explaining why she didn’t need it required too much effort.
Maggie wasn’t sure why she’d tossed it in her suitcase. Fortunately the fabric traveled well.
She pulled off the tags, then brought the dress into the bathroom and started getting ready.
Once she’d showered and blown her hair dry, there wasn’t all that much for her to do. She put on a little mascara, then lip gloss. Victoria had done a lot more to her the night of the ball, but Maggie had neither the skill nor the makeup. Qadir was going to have to suffer with her natural look.
She pulled on the dress, then stepped into a flat pair of sandals that weren’t nearly as pretty as the ones she’d worn with her ball gown, but were a whole lot more comfortable. Then she glanced at the clock. It had taken her twelve minutes from stepping into the shower until she was ready to go. That included four minutes blow-drying her hair. Victoria would be horrified.