The Sheikh's Accidental Bride (The Sheikh Wants A Wife 2) - Page 5

She considered quickly going through the rooms in the suite, to see if they’d been piled somewhere. She’d headed straight upstairs from the lobby, but the men who had taken her bags had seemed so efficient that she wouldn’t put it past them to have beaten her here, possibly through the use of dark hotel magic. And if she didn’t find her bags in any of the rooms, she knew that it would just be a matter of waiting for them to show up with them.

But that line of reasoning only brought her back to the rose petals on the floor. If the person who had placed them was still here, and she had no reason to believe he wouldn’t be, then she stood a chance of running into him. And if she ran into him without any kind of explanation, what would he say? What would he do? How much had she transgressed?

The absurdity of what she’d done was beginning to dawn on her. She’d let herself get carried away. She’d allowed it to go far too far already, but it was still almost within the realm of possibility that she hadn’t done anything too unacceptable. She still had a chance of getting out of this. But only if she owned up now, and told whoever it was that was waiting for the real Nadya exactly what had happened.

Nadya swallowed nervously and began to follow the rose petals, being careful not to step on them, so that they would still look fresh and new for whoever their intended recipient was. The trail led her down the hall, and out into an open plan living room area. The light hit her just as she walked out into it, forcing her hand up to shield her eyes. The room was glass on all sides, and the same golden light that had illuminated the entryway light was spilling in, lighting up every tasteful, modern detail.

Outside the room was a terrace, and beyond it, the city. Nadya breathed in involuntarily as she saw it. It was a private garden, with manicured plants. Just enough to feel lush, but not overcrowded. In the middle of it was a table set for two, with a seated figure already there and waiting. He had his back to her, so she couldn’t tell much about him other than that he was tall, with black hair and a well-cut black suit.

She swallowed hard. The worst of her fears that had been confirmed: this was a romantic rendezvous that she had accidentally crashed. But there was no going back now.

Nadya strode out across the living room to the half-open sliding glass door. The rug ended here, and she could hear her own footsteps. The man on the terrace could hear them too, it seemed, and he sprang up and turned around just as she got to the doorway.

Two things at one struck her. First was the breeze. This high above the city, even on a stuffy day like today, the air felt cool and light. It made her involuntarily breathe in deeply, to get every precious molecule of it in her lungs that she could.

The second was the sight of the man himself. He was undeniably handsome, with a strong jawline and an open, honest face. He looked like he could have been an Arab mannequin, but for a single small mole on his chin.

She could tell immediately that he didn’t recognize her. Or, rather, that he didn’t expect to recognize her, and so wasn’t disturbed that he didn’t.

“You must be Nadya,” he said, sincerity radiating off him like sunlight. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

This was going to be much harder than Nadya had expected.

THREE

“Nadya?”

She wasn’t speaking. Why wasn’t she speaking? Why wouldn’t her lips move to form the words to end this disaster before it went any further?

“Nadya, are you all right?”

His voice bore just the slightest accent – just the barest hint. Nadya wouldn’t have even noticed, possibly, except that the words were echoing through her head.

“Yes,” she said. No, no no, she thought. “I’m all right, thank you.” She followed it up with a smile, as though that would gloss over how she’d been standing stock still, unable to speak for the longest of moments.

She had to make her excuses and go. Whichever Nadya he was supposed to be meeting, wouldn’t she be here soon? And why was it, anyway, that he was meeting a woman, here, in a truly extravagant penthouse suite of one of the most exclusive hotels in New York City, and he didn’t know what she looked like?

“I’m just…” she took a shot in the dark, “A bit nervous.”

His smile told her that she’d struck gold. “Perfectly understandable,” he said. “It’s not every day you meet your future husband.”

Nadya could have laughed. Or cried. Any chance that she could just walk away from the whole thing with no harm done was swiftly evaporating. Unless this man was prone to terrible pickup lines – and he certainly didn’t seem like the sort who would need one to begin with – she’d just managed to interrupt the most important day of his life.

At least it explained the high drama of the trail of the rose petals, and the way that his people (she had to assume that they had all been his people) had seemed so stiff and anxious to please her.

Nadya was glad that a few of the pieces were coming together. But she also felt her heart sinking. She’d just met the man. She’d only spoken precious few words to him, and already she was disappointed by the idea that he would be getting married, and it wouldn’t be to her. It would be to some other Nadya, who would surely arrive at any moment.

“You must be tired from the flight,” the man was saying, stepping back and sweeping an arm over to present the table. “And hungry. I know it’s a bit early for dinner, but when the driver said he’d picked you up already, I had them bring it up. It’s amazing that your flight got in so early.”

“Yes,” Nadya replied, already hating the thought that was growing in her head. “I suppose so.”

If the other Nadya’s flight wasn’t meant to come in until much later, Nadya thought, maybe she had some time. If indeed that was the case, then what would be the harm? Maybe she could stay, at least for a few minutes more. At least she could try some of the food. She could smell it from here – the aroma wafted over through the golden air, reminding her that she was, in fact, starving.

She needed a moment to think. She needed to take a moment away from the handsome man, the delicious food and gorgeous view. If she just got away from it, she reasoned, maybe she would be able to start thinking clearly.

“Actually,” she said, trying for all the world to play it casual, “may I have a moment? It was a long flight, and I would love a chance to freshen up.”

“Of course,” he said, looking only a tiny bit dejected as he gave her directions to the guest bathroom.

Nadya only gave a fleeting thought to the absurdity of a hotel suite with its own guest bathroom. Right now, it would be as good a haven as any. When she reached it, she found that it was gorgeous, huge, and richly decorated, just like everything in the suite. Marble was everywhere, and the sound of her trying to catch her runaway breath bounced off the walls.

She’d never felt like she wanted for anything. Not really. Not in the way that some people truly wanted for things. The last three years had been difficult; she’d never really gotten comfortable with having to do math before going grocery shopping. But even then, she’d gotten by.

So why did it feel like being in this place, with this man who clearly never had to think about money except for the passing thought that he had more of it than others, feel like she was coming up for a fresh breath of air after having lived her life underwater?

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