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  “Hang in there,” Donna said. “The bridal dance will be over soon and we can leave.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “We can burn your dress in my fireplace. I bet it will go up in a matter of seconds, no lighter fluid necessary.”

  “Sure.” But she was barely listening. What was Madani doing right now? she wondered. What was he feeling? His engagement would become a matter of public record in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Hey, Em.” Donna elbowed her side. “There’s a guy looking at you. A really good-looking guy.”

  “Don’t mention men to me, good-looking or otherwise. I’ve sworn off of them. And this time I mean it.” She took a liberal swig of her drink and coughed after swallowing. “God, this tastes like straight booze. Did you have them put any tonic in it?”

  “He’s coming this way. Maybe he wants to ask you to dance.”

  Emily stirred her drink without looking up. “Not interested.”

  Donna whistled. “God, I think he could be that underwear model whose picture is plastered all over the city.”

  Her head snapped up and she scanned the crowd. No. It couldn’t be, but then she spied Madani and the breath squeezed from her lungs. She rose on shaky legs, met him halfway across the room. That put them in the center of the dance floor during a fast song. Half a dozen gyrating couples were forced to move around them. She didn’t care.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. Why are you here?” She had to shout the words to be heard over the music.

  “I came for you.”

  “But your engagement—”

  “Has been called off to the relief of nearly everyone involved.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The song ended. The dance floor cleared. Murmurs began among the guests. The DJ came on the microphone. “Someone has requested a slow song for the couple now on the dance floor.”

  Emily glanced up to see Donna standing next to one of the speakers. Her friend raised her glass of gin and tonic and grinned. Madani took Emily’s hand. Without the thumping bass, the music didn’t seem as loud. Or maybe it was just easier to hear Madani since she was in his arms, her temple pressed to his cheek.

  “I think you should know that your mother offered me money to leave the country.”

  “Yes. It was her way of being sure that you truly love me. It was a lucrative sum, I understand.”

  His chest rumbled with a laugh, but Emily wanted to be clear on this point, “I didn’t take her money.”

  “Nor would you take anything from me.”

  “It’s only right.”

  He leaned back, his expression as intense as his tone. “No. It’s not right. Your restaurant, Emily—”

  “I’ll open it someday. Or I won’t. Oddly enough, it’s no longer the most important thing in my life, though I still plan to do it eventually.”

  “Maybe you can open a second one in Kashaqra.”

  She liked the sound of that. “Maybe.” She frowned then. “Speaking of contracts, you made it seem as if the arrangement with Nawar’s family was set in stone.”

  “I thought it was. Or, perhaps for the sake of my father’s health, I resigned myself to believing that. But after seeing you in the garden, I couldn’t lose you. I was determined to find a way around it.” The arm around her waist tightened as if he never planned to let her go. “Then I didn’t have to. It turns out, my father wants me to marry the woman I love.”

  “Love.” She smiled, felt her heart lift. “It’s an impossible emotion to deny.”

  “It is indeed.”

  Emily’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He stopped dancing and dried her damp cheeks. “Where else would I be, where else could I be, when I love you so much?” He turned to the crowd of guests, many of whom were openly gawking. “I love her,” he said loudly.

  The commotion his announcement caused all but drowned out the music. Elle wasn’t going to be happy to be upstaged, especially on her wedding day. None of that mattered right now.

  “I love you, too,” Emily told him, returning to his arms for a kiss.

  When it ended a few minutes later, the sleeves of her peach gown were crumpled a mess, and the spray of flowers that had been in her hair had fallen to the dance floor.

  Madani tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Please tell me you don’t need to stay.”

  “I don’t.” Emily smiled. “What I need—all I need—is you.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5655-6

  A DINNER, A DATE, A DESERT SHEIKH

  First North American Publication 2010.

  Copyright © 2010 by Jackie Braun Fridline.

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