ago. Even so, her throat was raw and her eyes watered. It was clear she’d need another pill before the flower-filled garden reception to be held at the groom’s mansion. Unable to reach for a tissue, she blinked back the tears and bit her lip. She was grateful all eyes were on the bride so no one would notice her red-rimmed eyes and obvious discomfort.
But someone did notice. One of the groomsmen at the altar was staring at her and not the bride. It was one of Sheik Tarik’s twin cousins she’d met the night before at the rehearsal dinner. He was good-looking in an exotic way, but she couldn’t tell the difference between the twin brothers. They’d both flirted with every woman there except for her. She wasn’t the type men flirted with. She was a sane and sensible private-school teacher who stayed in the background and watched the festivities.
Whichever twin he was, he wasn’t flirting now, he was just looking at her intently as if he couldn’t believe she was getting carried away and crying at her best friend’s wedding. He raised one eyebrow, and she knew he must think she was an emotional basket case. As if she cared. After today she’d never see him again. He and his brother were just two of the out-of-town guests here for the wedding and would be leaving soon afterward.
She tore her gaze from his admittedly handsome face and focused on her friend Carolyn, thinking how happy she was for her. Marrying a rich and gorgeous sheik. After years of planning weddings for others, Carolyn was finally able to plan one for herself. And what a wedding it was. Somehow Anne got through the rest of the ceremony without coughing or sneezing and made it down the aisle and out in front of the church where she took a deep breath of fresh air.
“Are you all right?” A deep voice, a hand on her bare shoulder made a shiver go up her spine. Somehow she knew before she turned around. It was him. “Of course, I’m fine,” she said breathlessly, trying to ignore the warmth of his hand on her bare skin. Telling herself the goosebumps that had popped out on her arms were due to the cool air and not his warm touch.
“Look, it’s just a wedding. Nothing to cry about,” he said. “If anyone’s crying it should be Tarik. Losing his freedom. Yes, it’s enough to make every man in the place weep.” He gave her a good-natured grin and removed his hand from her shoulder.
Immediately she missed the warmth of his touch. Ridiculous. A strange man took his hand away and she felt a chill. She tried to shrug off his remarks, which were obviously those of a confirmed cynic. He was just a typical, macho male with a commitment phobia. “You don’t understand,” she said. “I wasn’t crying….”
“Not crying?” There was amused surprise in his tone. Surprised that she’d try to deny it. Surprised that she’d dared disagree with him. He leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers and studied her carefully. His eyes held her gaze for a long moment. She tried to look away but couldn’t. She was trapped in the depths of those deep-brown eyes. Could that be sympathy she saw there or curiosity or something else? All she knew was she felt he was looking deep into her soul and she didn’t want him to. After all, she didn’t even know him.
He brushed a thumb against her cheekbone to wipe away a tear. A surprisingly gentle touch from a sophisticated man who looked like he came straight out of GQ. She felt a quiver run up her spine. Her legs felt like jelly. What was wrong with her, anyway? It must be the wedding, the tears, the joy and the music that were having an effect on her. Not to mention those allergy pills. No man had ever made her feel like this. No man had ever brushed away her tears either.
“Those were tears there,” he continued, cocking his head to one side. “You’re not a very good liar, sweetheart. I know what I saw.”
Anne took a deep breath and looked around. She had to get away from this man. Just in case it wasn’t the music, the tears and the flowers, just in case her condition had something to do with this man, with the way he looked at her, the way his thumb left an imprint on her cheek and the way his hand felt on her shoulder. She had to escape, right now. Before this cousin of the groom jumped to the conclusion that his unwanted attention was affecting her one way or another. That it was because of him she felt cold on the outside and hot on the inside. Or that she was afraid to look into his eyes again, which she absolutely was not.
She didn’t know where to go. Looking around, it seemed everyone was with someone. The photographer was snapping candid pictures, people were throwing rice and laughing and talking. No one was looking at her except him. She wished he wouldn’t. She wished he’d go join one of those other groups. But he didn’t. He just stood there looking at her. As if she were some rare bird like the ones she tracked on their migratory routes.
Thank heavens no one heard him call her “sweetheart” or noticed him touching her. Thank heavens no one knew what an effect that touch had on her. She felt it even now, the brush of his thumb on her skin. What an innocent she was. Any other woman would have shrugged it off, because it didn’t mean anything after all. Not to him.
“All right,” she said, “you saw tears, but not because…not for the reason you thought.”
“Cheer up,” he said with a smile that showed a flash of white teeth against his bronzed skin. “Think of it this way, you’re not losing a friend, you’re gaining a sheik.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, trying to strike a lighthearted, bantering tone, as if she dealt with handsome sheiks every day of the week. If she did she’d know how to deal with this man who undoubtedly needed a dose of humility. Not that she was the one to teach him. She taught six-year-olds to count and spell and read. She’d never met a sheik until Carolyn introduced her to Tarik, her fiancé, a kind and charming man who was obviously totally different from his cousin.
“A very good thing,” he said, his dark eyes dancing with fun.
Flirting. That’s what he was doing, she realized with a start. He was flirting with her, but she didn’t know how to flirt back. So she just stood there staring at him, wondering why he bothered with her. Why not hit on one of the other bridesmaids who’d know what to do, know what to say to a good-looking bachelor on the prowl. Anyone else would know how to put him in his place with a lighthearted riposte.
She was saved from responding to this bit of braggadocio by a request from the photographer for a picture of the entire wedding party inside the church.
“I guess that means me,” she said, grateful for the distraction.
“It means us,” he said, offering his arm.
She smiled weakly. As much as she wanted to, she knew it would be rude to ignore him, to stalk on ahead as if he hadn’t spoken, as if he hadn’t held out his arm. So she gingerly took his arm, so gingerly that he paused.
“I won’t bite, you know,” he said, slanting a teasing glance in her direction. Again his eyes danced with fun. At her expense. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. And they walked back up the aisle of the church. Thank heavens she wasn’t a bride, because she stumbled on the red carpet halfway to the altar, which caused the sheik to tighten his grip on her arm. He finally had to let her go so she could take her place with the bridesmaids and so he could take his place next to the groom.
But before the flashbulbs starting popping, she was compelled to cast a glance in his direction and found him looking at her. When he caught her eye he winked flirtatiously at her, and she quickly looked away.
Luckily she had to help the bride with her train on the way back down the aisle, and she lost sight of the sheik. Otherwise who knew what would have happened? She might have ridden with him back to the reception. She might have been wedged into one of the limos next to him all the way through town. The thought of his thigh pressed
