A waft of her scent, that combination of spice and flowers that he would never again be able to smell without thinking of her, tantalized him. She looked tired. He’d bet good money that Burton was responsible for that, too. It made Raif want to physically remove Shanal from the man’s noxious sphere. But, he reminded himself grimly, she’d made her choice and that choice had not been him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a fierce undertone, looking over her shoulder at the road—almost as if she was afraid she was being watched.
“I had to return this. I imagine you’ll be needing it again soon?” He deliberately let the jibe fall from his lips.
She flinched as if the words had held more sting than he’d intended. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, raising her eyebrows a little at the receptacle he’d chosen to return the dress in. She took the bag from him and then stood to one side as if, dress delivered and accepted, she now expected him to leave.
“And we need to talk,” he continued.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Please leave.”
“Not until you answer at least one question.”
“Fine,” she huffed, her eyes drifting up and down the street before returning to his face. “Spit it out.”
“Why are you marrying him?”
“Because I have to. You’ve asked your question. I’ve answered it. You can go now. If Burton knew you were here—”
“What?” he interrupted. “What would he do?”
“Please, Raif, just leave,” she begged.
A sour taste filled Raif’s mouth when he recognized the fear behind her words. “What? Can’t you do anything without his approval? And you’re telling me you want to marry him? Is he really the kind of man you want to be bound to for the rest of your life?”
“I’ve asked myself a lot of things, Raif, but it all comes back to the same thing. He’s the man I’m going to marry.”
Raif shoved a hand through his hair. “I just don’t get it. Why him? You don’t love him, I know that for a fact. A woman like you... Well, I doubt you’d have shared yourself with me the way you did if you actually had feelings for him. Unless...unless you were using me. Playing me off against him for some crazy reason. Was that what it was?”
If anything, her face paled even more. The garbage sack fell from her fingers and her eyes filled with tears. “Is that what you think? That I’d do something like that?”
“Is it true?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, it’s not. Now, I’ve answered more than one question. Consider the extras a bonus and please leave.”
Shanal reached into her handbag and pulled out a house key. Her hand was shaking as she fitted it to the lock. Raif reached to take the key from her and finish the job, but she pulled away so quickly when his fingers brushed hers that the key fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up, and shoved it into the lock, giving it a sharp turn and pushing the door open. He extracted the key and made a show of handing it back to her carefully so that they didn’t need to touch at all this time.
“I’m not going to let this go, Shanal. You ran away from him once.”
“That was a mistake. Finding out you used me to get back at Burton helped me to realize what I need to do,” she said breathlessly, and pushed past him to get inside the house.
“Shanal, really? Do you honestly think that what we shared together was about revenge?”
She sighed deeply. “No,” she admitted with a huff of air, and started to close the door.
“I’m still here for you. Confused as hell about why you’re doing this, but here for you. Do you understand me?”
“I don’t need you, Raif. I have Burton. Goodbye.”
The door shut in his face. He considered knocking on it, demanding she explain further, but he knew it would be futile. He went back to his car, and all the way home replayed her words over and over in his mind. Not once had she mentioned caring for Burton or, heaven forbid, loving him. So why the hell was she going through with this again?
Love was, or at the very least should be, the only reason one person married another. Marriage was a lifetime commitment. It was the blending of two people to make a better whole. A combination of personalities that knitted together with one thread. It was the root stock of a family, the basis for generations to come. What sense was there in starting a relationship like that without a strong foundation of love in the place first?