The Sheikh's Pregnant Wife - Leslie North Page 0,44
scent of cologne, something cedar-like and fresh, got to her a moment before he did. Nadim extended one of his large hands, the set of his shoulders powerful. He’d caught her looking. I know what you’re thinking, his expression said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Aisha shook his hand, forcing herself back into action just in time. “Sheikh Nadim. I’ve been looking forward to our meeting.” She sat down, brushing her hands over the front of her skirt to keep the wrinkles away. He followed her lead, sitting easily across from her as if he were sitting in his own office. “Now. I know you’ve been briefed by your people. We both know this is just the first official meeting before we begin our tour.”
The tour, the tour. Their staff members had arranged a tour of Kendah for the two of them that was set to begin the next day. They would spend about a week together, by the end. Aisha allowed herself only the barest hint of hope that they’d end with a positive outcome. Nadim was the best candidate she had at the moment—or all along—despite his flaws.
Not that she could particularly remember those flaws now, with him looking at her like that, an easy smile on his face. An easy, gorgeous smile. Right—the women. He was a known playboy. And he’d probably try to use those ways against her, too.
Aisha cleared her throat. “Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?”
He pressed his lips together, studying her, eyes firmly on her face. “Coffee or tea?”
She blinked. “What?”
Nadim leaned one elbow against the arm of his chair and rubbed a hand over his beard. “One thing I wanted to be sure to ask you was whether you prefer coffee or tea in the mornings. I tend to be an early riser, and if I’m the one getting drinks, I don’t want to spend all week bringing you tea when you’d rather have coffee instead.” He laughed. “What kind of impression would that make?”
“I have to say, I don’t expect you to bring me any beverages.”
“No?” He arched an eyebrow. “Well, just in case the opportunity arises. Which is it?”
“Coffee. With a splash of milk and two sugars,” she added, irritation heating her face in spite of herself. She’d expected, based on Nadim’s reputation, for him to hit on her. To try and pick her up. And here he was, asking a completely benign question. Was he even going to try? And why did she care, all of a sudden, about whether or not he saw her as a sexy prospect. “There is one thing I wanted to make clear.”
He sat up straight, looking at her with a serious expression. “What’s that?”
“I’m looking to fulfill the letter of the law with this marriage, not adopt a ruler.” She didn’t have to do a thing to match his posture—Aisha already sat straight and tall at the edge of her seat. “I intend to rule.”
Nadim nodded. “Good. I like the sound of that.”
Another surprise. “You do?”
“I’m here to placate my parents.” He shrugged. “I’m glad to hear you have your own plan for the years ahead, because I have mine, too—and it doesn’t involve ruling a country. Or marrying anyone. Not for a long time.”
An odd disappointment tumbled through her gut like a loose stone down the mountainside. “Good to know.” She stood again, and he followed her. “One of my men will show you to your quarters for the night. I trust you’ll find everything you need there.” She’d prearranged this signal for one of her security guards, who came into the office at just the right moment. “Let any of my people know if you need anything.”
Nadim offered his hand to shake again, and she took it, shaking as quickly as she could without appearing rude. “It was lovely to meet you, Sultana.” He flashed her a smile so handsome it made her knees go weak. She put a casual hand on the desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then he was gone, following the security guard out. Echoes of his voice made their way back to her. Befriending the guard, no doubt.
Sanaa stepped back in, eyes wide, eyebrows raised.
“He’s not the one.” Aisha flipped through some papers on her desk, trying to sort out what it meant that her heart was beating so hard and fast as her chest filled with a foreign mix of excitement and hope and longing. “He’s far too...”
“Good looking?”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly.