that his eyes had inspected every single piece of her and found it lacking. It had taken all of her strength to stand there and endure it. Even her rejection at the hands of that college boy was paling into insignificance next to Sadiq’s silent but damning appraisal.
She stepped back into the suite to see Sadiq looking so broodingly at the floor that she had to battle the almost overwhelming feeling of
déjà vu
and curb the impulse to ask him if anything was wrong. She almost laughed at herself. As if she needed to ask! He was marrying her. And it was all wrong—if only he would agree with her.
He turned to look at her and her hands gripped her jacket. She felt shabby and more unsuitable then ever to be Queen. ‘That dress—I don’t think it—’
His hand slashed through the air. ‘It did nothing for you because it was far too obvious and your beauty is not obvious. It’s subtle. Clearly this was the wrong place to come. We’ll have to go to Paris instead.’
Samia’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She hadn’t known what he would say but she hadn’t expected that. For a moment her weak heart had fluttered to hear him describe her as beautiful, but then the
subtle
had struck home. It was just another way of saying she was plain.
Sadiq was already pacing away and speaking rapidly into his phone in fluent French, taking her arm to hustle her out of the suite and the shop. Anger was starting to bubble lowin her belly at his heavy-handed behaviour, but now he was on his third phone call and she could tell from the guttural Arabic that it was about politics in Al-Omar. Samia was used to her brother switching off and becoming impossible to deal with at times like this, so she just crossed her arms and seethed silently beside Sadiq.
Within an hour they were ascending into the clear blue sky from a private airfield in the middle of London. Samia wasn’t unused to private air travel—her own family had a fleet of jets and helicopters—but she and her brother only used them when absolutely necessary. Both were keenly aware of the environment and their carbon footprint, and of wanting to set an example.
She wasn’t aware that Sadiq had terminated his phone call until a drawling voice asked, ‘Are you going to ignore me for the entire flight?’
Samia turned to face him, instantly cowed by how gorgeous he looked with his jacket off and his shirt open at the throat. She wanted to know what he would look like in jeans and a T-shirt.
Her wayward imaginings made her snap more caustically than she would have intended, ‘I could ask the same of you. And I’ve told you all along how unsuitable I am, so I don’t appreciate your silent, cold condemnation when I don’t morph into the bride you want.’
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘I meant what I said back there, Samia. I don’t hand out platitudes or compliments for the sake of it. It’s not my style. I simply recognised that the establishment I’d chosen was entirely wrong for you.’ His eyes travelled up and down her body with leisurely appraisal, and then back to her face, which was hot. ‘Like I said, your beauty is subtle and needs a more … delicate approach.’
Samia still refused to believe for a second that he really meant what he’d said. This was just his way of placating her.
And now he was taking her somewhere they could camouflage her better. Stiffly she said, ‘Well, I hope it’s worth the expense and environmental impact of taking a private plane all the way to Paris just to dress me.’
Dark amusement made his eyes glint and Samia’s heart speed up.
‘Don’t worry, Princess. I can assure you that our carbon footprint will be as minimal as possible. One of my own team of scientists is using this plane as a vehicle to test out more environmentally friendly fuels. So, actually, we’re providing valuable research.’
Samia refused to let his humour infect her. ‘You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?’
He smiled
She stepped back into the suite to see Sadiq looking so broodingly at the floor that she had to battle the almost overwhelming feeling of
déjà vu
and curb the impulse to ask him if anything was wrong. She almost laughed at herself. As if she needed to ask! He was marrying her. And it was all wrong—if only he would agree with her.
He turned to look at her and her hands gripped her jacket. She felt shabby and more unsuitable then ever to be Queen. ‘That dress—I don’t think it—’
His hand slashed through the air. ‘It did nothing for you because it was far too obvious and your beauty is not obvious. It’s subtle. Clearly this was the wrong place to come. We’ll have to go to Paris instead.’
Samia’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She hadn’t known what he would say but she hadn’t expected that. For a moment her weak heart had fluttered to hear him describe her as beautiful, but then the
subtle
had struck home. It was just another way of saying she was plain.
Sadiq was already pacing away and speaking rapidly into his phone in fluent French, taking her arm to hustle her out of the suite and the shop. Anger was starting to bubble lowin her belly at his heavy-handed behaviour, but now he was on his third phone call and she could tell from the guttural Arabic that it was about politics in Al-Omar. Samia was used to her brother switching off and becoming impossible to deal with at times like this, so she just crossed her arms and seethed silently beside Sadiq.
Within an hour they were ascending into the clear blue sky from a private airfield in the middle of London. Samia wasn’t unused to private air travel—her own family had a fleet of jets and helicopters—but she and her brother only used them when absolutely necessary. Both were keenly aware of the environment and their carbon footprint, and of wanting to set an example.
She wasn’t aware that Sadiq had terminated his phone call until a drawling voice asked, ‘Are you going to ignore me for the entire flight?’
Samia turned to face him, instantly cowed by how gorgeous he looked with his jacket off and his shirt open at the throat. She wanted to know what he would look like in jeans and a T-shirt.
Her wayward imaginings made her snap more caustically than she would have intended, ‘I could ask the same of you. And I’ve told you all along how unsuitable I am, so I don’t appreciate your silent, cold condemnation when I don’t morph into the bride you want.’
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘I meant what I said back there, Samia. I don’t hand out platitudes or compliments for the sake of it. It’s not my style. I simply recognised that the establishment I’d chosen was entirely wrong for you.’ His eyes travelled up and down her body with leisurely appraisal, and then back to her face, which was hot. ‘Like I said, your beauty is subtle and needs a more … delicate approach.’
Samia still refused to believe for a second that he really meant what he’d said. This was just his way of placating her.
And now he was taking her somewhere they could camouflage her better. Stiffly she said, ‘Well, I hope it’s worth the expense and environmental impact of taking a private plane all the way to Paris just to dress me.’
Dark amusement made his eyes glint and Samia’s heart speed up.
‘Don’t worry, Princess. I can assure you that our carbon footprint will be as minimal as possible. One of my own team of scientists is using this plane as a vehicle to test out more environmentally friendly fuels. So, actually, we’re providing valuable research.’
Samia refused to let his humour infect her. ‘You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?’
He smiled
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