Marrying the Scarred Sheikh

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Marrying the Scarred Sheikh Page 10

by Barbara McMahon

Khalid nodded.

  “And that’s it? He’s going home now?”

  “After he’s met you and is satisfied you are happy with this arrangement.”

  For a moment Ella felt a wave of affection for her brother. She didn’t always agree with him, but for him to make sure she was happy sounded like the brother she remembered with love. However—

  “No.”

  “No what?”

  “I’m not taking that chance. I don’t want to see Antonio. I don’t want him to know where I live.” She looked at him with incredulity. “You don’t think they expect you to give the family money if I were really going to marry you, do you? He’s probably just as happy with you as candidate as whomever they had picked out in Italy.”

  “I mentioned that I have a few thousand qateries put away for the future.”

  “Utterly stupid,” she said, jumping to her feet. “I cannot believe you said that. You go back and tell him you were joking or something.”

  Khalid rose, as well, and came over to her. “Ella, think for a moment. This gets you off the hook. We’ll meet him for dinner or something. Show we are devoted to each other. And that you have no intention of returning to Italy. Then he’ll be satisfied and take off in the morning. You’ll be safely ensconced here and that’s an end to it. Once your family finds another way to deal with the debt, you can write and say the engagement ended.”

  She considered the plan. It sounded dishonest. But it also sounded like it might work. If she could convince Antonio she was committed to Khalid. Glancing out the window, she wondered if she could look as if she loved the man to distraction when her heart was buried with Alexander.

  Yet, he knew her. He could believe she’d fallen in love. He’d often teased her for being a romantic. And her family would welcome Khalid like they never had Alexander. This time they had no reason to suspect he was interested in her money. Next to him, she was almost a pauper.

  “Do you think it’ll work?” she asked, grasping the idea with faint hope.

  “What could go wrong?” he asked. “You’ll convince your brother you’re deliriously happy. He’ll go home and you’ll go back to making glass art.”

  “What do you get out of this?” she asked cynically.

  “No more tears?” he said.

  She flushed. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, I didn’t mean to make light of it. Just make sure you don’t have another meltdown. I’ll be gone again soon so you’ll have the place to yourself again, like before.”

  “So you’re not planning to sell?”

  “Maybe not for a while. I find I’m enjoying living by the water.”

  “Okay. We’ll try your plan. But if he doesn’t leave, or tries anything, I’m taking off.”

  Khalid arranged dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. He picked Ella up at seven and in less than twenty minutes they arrived at the restaurant. She saw her brother waiting for them once they entered.

  “Ella,” he said in Italian, coming to kiss both cheeks.

  “Antonio,” she replied. It had been almost a year since she’d seen him. He looked the same. She smiled and hugged him tightly. No matter what—he was still her older brother.

  He shook hands with Khalid. Soon all three were seated in a table near the window that looked over a garden.

  “We’ve been worried about you,” Antonio said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “More than fine. Engaged to be married again.” He gave her a hard look.

  She looked at him. “And?”

  “It will come as a surprise to our parents.”

  “As learning about Giacomo’s gambling problem surprised me.”

  Antonio flicked a glance at Khalid and shrugged. “A way will be found to get the money. Family needs to support each other, don’t you think?”

  When the waiter came for the order, conversation was suspended for a moment. “Khalid doesn’t speak Italian. He speaks English or French, so you choose,” Ella said in English.

  “English is not so good for me. But for, um, good feelings between us, I speak it,” Antonio said.

  “Ella tells me your family has been in the winemaking business for generations,” Khalid said. “You are a part of that operation?”

  Antonio nodded. “I sell wine. Giacomo helps father with the vineyard and the make. My father wants Ella to come home. She goes a long time.”

  “Maybe in a while. She cannot come now,” Khalid said flatly.

  Antonio looked surprised that anyone would tell him no. Ella hid a smile and took a moment to glance around the restaurant. The tables were given plenty of space to insure a quiet atmosphere and offer a degree of privacy for the customers. Her eye caught a glimpse of the minister of finance just as he spotted her.

  “Uh-oh,” she said softly in Arabic. “The minister is here.”

  Antonio frowned. “If we speak English, all speak,” he said.

  “Sorry, I forgot,” she replied, looking at Khalid for guidance.

  A moment later the minister was at their table.

  “Ah, the lovely Madame Ponti,” he said with a smile, reaching out to capture her hand and kiss the back. “Rashid, I didn’t expect to see you with Madame Ponti,” he said with a quick glance at Khalid.

  Khalid stood, towering over the older man, exposing the scar when he faced him. “Minister,” he said.

  “Ah, my mistake. Khalid. No need to get up. I’m on my way out and saw you dining.” He smiled affably at Antonio. “Another guest?”

  “Ella’s brother.” Good manners dictated an introduction which Khalid made swiftly. Explaining Antonio was Italian and didn’t speak Arabic.

  “English?” he asked.

  Antonio nodded.

  “Welcome to Quishari,” the minister said with a heavy accent.

  “Happy to be here. We are celebrating good news—Ella’s engagement.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ELLA was struck dumb. She wished she could stuff a sock in her brother’s mouth. Her horrified gaze must have shown, as Khalid reached out and touched her shoulder.

  “Congratulate us, Minister. You are the first outside the family to know,” he said easily.

  His grip tightened and she tried to smile. What a disaster this was turning out to be. Khalid must be furious. That’s what they got for trying to put something over on Antonio.

  “My felicitations. I have to say I am not surprised after seeing you at your mother’s event the other evening.”

  Khalid nodded, releasing his hold on Ella’s shoulder as if convinced she would not jump up and flee—which she strongly felt like.

  “Don’t let me keep you from dinner,” the minister said as the waiter approached with their meals on a tray.

  When he left, Ella gave a sigh of relief. Maybe Khalid could catch him later and explain. She needed to concentrate on getting her brother on the next plane to Italy.

  “Mother and father will want to meet your fiancé,” Antonio said as they began to eat. “You two should visit soon. I can wait here a few days and return with you.”

  “Unfortunately I am unable to get away for a while and Ella must work on her art,” Khalid said.

  “Art?” Her brother looked puzzled.

  “You have not seen the beautiful glass pieces she makes?” Khalid asked in surprise.

  “Oh, those.” Antonio gave a shrug. “I’ve seen bowls and such. Nice enough.”

  Ella knew better than to take offense at her brother’s casual dismissal of her work. He had thought it an odd hobby when she’d been younger. But she’d come a long way since those early attempts. Not that she needed to show him. If Khalid was successful in getting him to leave, she’d be grateful. If not, then maybe Plan B would work better—get Bethanne to fly her somewhere far away and tell no one.

  The meal seemed interminable. Ella wanted to scream at her brother to leave her alone. She couldn’t forget his part in Alexander’s death. If he had not tried to take her home last year, Alexander would still be ali
ve.

  Everything was different. When they finished eating, Khalid escorted them to the curb where the limo was waiting. Ushering them both inside, he gave instructions for Antonio’s hotel and settled back.

  “We will drop you at your hotel and in the morning I will arrange for the limousine to pick you up to take you to the airport. Ella will contact your parents when it is convenient to visit.”

  Never underestimate the power of money, status and arrogant male, she thought as she watched her brother struggle with something that would assert his own position. But one look from the dark eyes of the sheikh had Antonio subsiding quietly.

  “As you wish. My father will be delighted to learn his daughter is engaged to one of the leading families in Quishari. I hope you both can visit soon.”

  The ride home from the hotel was in silence. Ella didn’t know whether to be grateful to Khalid or annoyed at his outlandish handling of the situation. If the minister hadn’t learned of the bogus engagement, they could have muddled through without any bother.

  “What if the minister says something?” she asked.

  “Who’s he going to tell? We are not that important in his scheme of things. You worry about things too much,” he said, studying the scenery as they were driven home.

  “At least I didn’t go off half-cocked and say we were engaged. Too bad he speaks English. The language barrier could have prevented it. I doubt he speaks Italian.”

  Khalid looked at her. “Your brother will return home, tell your parents you are safe and go on with his life. Once things settle down, you can tell them things didn’t work out.”

  She laughed nervously. “I doubt things will settle down. They will push for marriage.”

  “Tell them I am not ready.”

  “Oh, Khalid, if they really need money for Giacomo, then my guess is the next step is get me safely married to you and hit me up for some money. If you were poor as Alexander was, they would never be satisfied with a marriage between us.”

  “You’re an adult. Just tell them no.”

  “Antonio tried to force me from the country last time. Just say no doesn’t work with my family.”

  “He won’t try you in the future, not as long as you live in Quishari.”

  “Then I may never leave,” she said, still worried about the entire scenario.

  Khalid had the limousine stop by Ella’s cottage and dismissed the man. He escorted her to her door.

  “Thanks for dinner, and for standing up for me,” she said, opening it.

  “That’s what fiancés are for,” he said, brushing back her hair and kissing her lightly on the lips.

  He turned and walked to the villa, wishing he had stayed for a longer good-night kiss. He had hidden it from Ella, but he was worried the minister could stir up trouble that would be hard to suppress.

  When he entered the study a few moment later, the answering machine was flashing. He pressed the button.

  “What’s this I hear about your engagement? You couldn’t tell me before the minister?” Rashid’s voice came across loud and clear—with a hint of amusement. “Or did he get it wrong? Call me.”

  Khalid sighed and sank onto the chair. Dialing his brother, he wondered if he could finesse this somehow. It was hard sometimes to have a twin who knew him so well.

  “Hello.”

  “Rashid, it’s Khalid.”

  “Ah, the newly engaged man. I didn’t have a clue.”

  “It’s not what you think?”

  “So what is it?”

  Khalid explained and heard Rashid’s laughter. “Sounds almost like Bethanne and me. We pretended she was my intended to close the deal I was working on when the woman I expected didn’t show up. Watch it, brother—fake engagements have a way of turning real.”

  “Not this time. In fact, I wasn’t going to tell anyone beyond Ella’s brother. Once he was back Italy, she’d be left alone.”

  “Now you have the minister calling me and undoubtedly Mother to congratulate us on your engagement. And I know from experience, Mother isn’t going to be happy.”

  “She should be glad anyone would even consider marrying me with this face.”

  “Not if it isn’t someone she picked out—which I’m coming to believe means someone she can boss around. Bethanne isn’t exactly docile. So what’s the plan?”

  “I haven’t a clue. It would have gone smoothly if the minister hadn’t come over. Her brother would have left and things would have returned to normal.”

  “Whatever that is these days.” Rashid was quiet for a moment, then said, “Any chance…”

  “What, that she’d want to marry me? Get real. First off, I’m not planning to marry. Your kids will carry on the line. And second, she’s still hung up on her dead husband. And I see no signs of that abating. She was crying over him today.”

  “Fine, you’ve played the role of hero, rescuing her from her brother. Would that make her feel she owes you? Maybe vacate the cottage so you can sell the place sooner?”

  “I wouldn’t use that to get her gone.”

  Rashid was silent.

  “Anyway, things will work out.”

  “Call me if you need me,” Rashid said.

  When he hung up, Khalid contemplated finding a job ten thousand miles away and staying as long as he could. Who would think inheriting a beautiful estate could end up making him so confused.

  The phone rang again.

  When he answered, he sighed hearing his mother’s greeting.

  “I just had an interesting call,” she began.

  “I know.” For a split second he considered telling her the truth. But that fled when he thought of her calling to set the minister straight. He would not like having been lied to.

  “Is it true? Honestly, if I had thought you were planning to marry, which you have stated many time you are not, I know several nice women who would have suited much better than a widow of dubious background.”

  “I know her background.”

  “I don’t. Where is she from? Are you certain she wants to marry you to build a life together, or is she in it to keep the cottage? Once her career takes off, will she leave for greener fields?”

  “Who knows what the future holds,” he said.

  “Your father used to say that all the time. Honestly, men. I suppose I have to have another party to introduce her formally to everyone like I did with Bethanne.”

  “Hold off on that, Mother.”

  “Why?”

  His mother was sharp; anything out of a normal progression would raise doubts. And he didn’t want Ella talked about, or word to reach her family that the engagement wasn’t going strong.

  “You just had a party…we can wait a few weeks.” Maybe by then something would occur to him that would get him out of the situation. He’d thought it the perfect answer to getting rid of Ella’s brother. The first time in recent months he did anything spontaneous and it grew more complicated by the moment. Give him a raging oil fire any day.

  “Nonsense. I’ll call your aunt. She’ll be thrilled to hear you are getting married and want to help. We had given up on you, you know.”

  Hold that thought, he wanted to say. But for the time being, he’d go along with her idea. He wondered if Ella would. Or if she’d put an end to it the minute her brother took off in the morning. She hadn’t welcomed the idea when he first told her.

  He went to change into casual clothes and headed for the beach. He didn’t know if she’d join him on a walk tonight. He could gauge her reaction by her manner if she did show up.

  When he reached the beach, there was no sign of her. He’d wait a bit. It wasn’t that late.

  Sitting on the still warm sand, he watched the moonlight dance on the water. The soft night breeze caressed. The silence was peaceful, tranquil. Why did men make things so complicated. A quiet night surrounded by nature—that’s what he needed. That’s what he liked about the desert. The solitude and stillness.

  He heard her walking through the ga
rden. Satisfaction filled him. She was coming again. Despite their differences, he felt closer to her in the dark than he did anyone except Rashid. Theirs was an odd friendship; one that probably wouldn’t last through the years, but perfect for now.

  “I wondered if you’d want to go walk,” she said, walking over and sitting beside him. “You were right, you know. I overreacted, but this was a perfect scheme to get rid of Antonio. You know, of course, that had this been real, the minute we married, he’d be hitting you up for money.”

  “It crossed my mind,” Khalid said. Antonio didn’t know him well—nor ever would. But giving money away to people who wasted it was not something he did. Though he could understand family solidarity. Wonder if there were a different way to handle the situation.

  He rose and reached out his hand to help her up. With one accord, they left their shoes and began walking to the water. Once on hard-packed sand, they turned north.

  Khalid liked the end of the evening this way. Ella was comfortable to be around. With the darkness to cloak the scar, he had no hesitation in having her with him. She didn’t have to see the horrible deformity and he didn’t have to endure the looks of horror so often seen in people when they were around him. Not that he’d caught even a glimpse of that with Ella after that first day. She seemed to see right through the scar to the man beneath.

  “At least we don’t have to worry about that. I’m still working on a catalog and will see if I can get a showing earlier than originally planned. Once I have a way to earn a living, I’ll be out of your way.”

  “There is one complication,” he said.

  “What?”

  “My mother thinks we are engaged and is planning a party to announce it to the world.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding? How did your mother find out?” She stopped walking and stared at him.

  “She called me tonight. The minister wasted no time. He has it in for Rashid and I expect is trying to gain an ally with mother in getting insider info or something.”

  Ella shook her head. “I can imagine how delighted she is to think we’re engaged. Did you set her straight?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

 

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