Marriage Behind the Fa?ade by Lynn Raye Harris

her heart still fluttering like mad. What had she thought he was going to do? Grab her and toss her over his shoulder? Take her to his bedroom and have his wicked way with her?
    A tiny part of her whispered, yes, please. She ignored it as she moved to the other side of the table. Malik grabbed a piece of flat bread and dipped it into the lamb-and-tomato dish. Then he speared her with a look.
    “Think what you wish, Sydney. You seem determined to do so anyway.”
    She stood there, undecided what to do next. She didn’t like the fact that what he’d said made sense. Had he really considered her feelings last year? Had he tried to spare her the intense scrutiny that went with being his wife here in Jahfar?
    Was it possible? Or was he just very good at making her feel petty?
    She watched him eat, watched the slide of his throat as he swallowed. For a moment, she considered leaving. But where would she go? And why? It would simply make her seem even pettier than she already did.
    Besides, the smell of the food was driving her insane. It’d been a while since breakfast, and her stomach was about to eat itself. She sank onto the cushions opposite him. “I don’t recall asking you to join me for lunch,” she said, reaching for a dish.
    “In fact, you are joining me,” Malik replied, lounging sideways on an elbow. “I instructed Hala to set lunch in here.”
    Sydney looked away and popped an olive into her mouth. It was too intimate, eating with him like this. They’d shared meals before—some of them in bed—but this time was different. Harder because of the emotion she felt being here now. Knowing she’d given him everything, believed in him, and he’d only ever given her a very superficial part of him.
    “Why?” she said. “I could have come to the dining room—or wherever you usually eat. Or I could have eaten alone. That would have been fine, too.”
    “Yes, but tonight we dine with my brother and his wife. I had thought we could use this opportunity for instruction.”
    Sydney coughed as the next olive lodged in her throat. “Your brother—the king?” she managed to ask when she’d swallowed it. “And his queen?”
    “The king and queen of Jahfar, yes. They wish to meet you.”
    Heat prickled her skin again. She was so completely unprepared for everything this life entailed. No matter that it was temporary. Dinner with a king?
    A king who had not been pleased with Malik for marrying her. “Is that a good idea? I’m not really here to stay.”
    He shrugged. “Probably not, no. But we are commanded to attend. My brother is curious, I imagine.”
    “Curious?”
    “About the woman who enticed me to give up my cherished bachelorhood. Though she now wishes to divorce me.”
    Sydney cast her gaze down. The lamb she’d taken a bite of had been delicious—now it was more like a lump of sod in her mouth. “Please don’t,” she said.
    “Don’t what? Speak the truth?”
    “You make it sound as if you are hurt. But you aren’t, Malik. Your pride perhaps, but not you. Not your heart.”
    She could see out of the corner of her eye that he’d gone still. “How well you know me,” he said, his voice containing that hint of mockery she hated. “I’m amazed at your insight.”
    Sydney closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “I don’t want to do this right now,” she said. “Can’t we just eat?”
    “We can,” he finally said, reaching for another piece of bread. He tore it in half, handed one side to her. His fingers brushed hers as she accepted it, a tingle of fire rippling up her arm in response.
    Why couldn’t there have been another way? Why did she need to be here in Jahfar, living in Malik’s house, eating with him, gazing at his once beloved face across a table and knowing their relationship was in its death throes? And now, as if it weren’t painful enough, she would have to face the brother who knew that Malik regretted marrying her in the first place.
    Beyond humiliating.
    Sydney dipped