Bride Behind The Desert Veil (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Marchetti Dynasty, Book 3) by Abby Green (free e reader .TXT) 📕

Up until the cataclysmic moment when she’d realised who her husband was, she’d felt safe in the knowledge that her uncharacteristic behaviour would never be scrutinised in the cold light of day. But the universe was laughing at her now. Not only would her behaviour be scrutinised, but she’d married a man whose only impression of her was based on the illicit night they’d shared together. And she had no defence. She’d been bolder and more brazen than at any other time in her life.

‘Don’t call me Aaliyah. It’s Liyah. Please.’

‘Liyah, then.’ His gaze dropped, taking in her change of clothes. ‘Dark matte colours and pinks do nothing for you,’ he observed. ‘We’ll remedy that. I have lots of events lined up that you’ll be required to attend by my side.’

Liyah flushed at the way he assessed her so coolly, as if she was some kind of mannequin. Feeling defensive she said, ‘I didn’t choose the clothes. They were picked for me.’

‘Well, you didn’t offer any information on what you preferred,’ Sharif pointed out.

Liyah said nothing, because she had scant interest in fashion or trends, and she wasn’t sure she would have been adept at knowing what did suit her. The fact that she suspected this man did made her feel defensive all over again. She really knew next to nothing about him.

‘My father said you control a...a luxury conglomerate?’

His dark gaze narrowed on her face. She felt very bare. Not that she was used to wearing make-up, but she’d like some kind of armour right now.

‘Yes, I run it with my two half-brothers.’

So, he had family. Liyah absorbed that.

Sharif frowned. ‘You really didn’t know who I was at the oasis?’

She shook her head. ‘I figured there would be plenty of time to learn about who you were. After all, we’re married now, for better or worse. For a long time.’

‘You weren’t much interested in the prenuptial agreement. My staff told me you only glanced through it before signing.’

Liyah shrugged. ‘I thought that would please you?’

‘It intrigues me. I don’t know a woman who wouldn’t have gone through the document with a team of lawyers and dissected it to within an inch of its life before engaging in negotiatons for the maximum they could get their hands on.’

‘The women you know don’t sound very nice.’

A muscle in his jaw ticked. ‘That could very well be the case, but as one of the wealthiest people on the planet I do tend to attract a certain type. So what makes you different? I know you don’t have your father’s fortune to fall back on, because your family is all but bankrupt—like your country. Hence the eagerness to marry you, or anyone, off.’

Liyah blinked. ‘So it’s true...the rumour about the fiscal debt in Taraq?’

Sharif nodded. ‘Your father and his ministers have overextended themselves hugely in redeveloping the country.’

Liyah had heard the rumours—especially when she’d been abroad—but hadn’t known if they were true or not. Naturally her father would never share such information with her. Not even when she was helping dig her own country out of debt with this marriage.

‘I don’t depend on my father for an income or an inheritance,’ Liyah said. ‘He wrote me out of the family will long ago.’

‘Why?’

‘Because my mother left an inheritance to me, her only child. My father couldn’t touch it, and I inherited when I was eighteen. It’s probably nothing compared to the wealth you command, but it’s enough to keep me secure.’

‘That’s the only thing you checked in the prenup—to make sure that our marriage didn’t give me any rights over the money you have independently.’

Liyah nodded. ‘So I don’t need anything from you.’

An expression crossed his face, too fast to decipher, but Liyah thought it was scepticism.

He said, ‘That’s refreshing to know. But let me know how you feel when I initiate our divorce and you’ve become used to a life of comfort and luxury beyond your wildest dreams.’

‘Divorce?’ They’d only just got married.

‘You really should have read that prenuptial agreement properly. It’s all in there. When you signed the contract, the day before the wedding—hours before we met at the oasis—you agreed to a divorce at the earliest in six months and at the latest in a year’s time. This is a marriage in name only—purely for appearances.’

Liyah let this sink in. She should be feeling relief right now, at the thought that not only was this a marriage in name only but that it was also to be shortlived. But what she was feeling was more ambiguous. Curiosity...

‘Why such a specific timeframe?’

‘Because I only need a wife until such time as I don’t need one any more. Once certain...objectives have been met.’

The air steward approached them again, to inform them that they’d be landing any minute and to ask them to make sure they were buckled in.

Liyah’s head was buzzing with this information. If what Sharif was saying was true, then within a year at the most she’d have her freedom again. And by that time Samara would be married into her new family, so Liyah wouldn’t have any reason to return to a place that had never really welcomed her. She really would be free.

So why didn’t that induce joy?

The wedding ring on Liyah’s finger felt very heavy all of a sudden, and she twisted it absently on her finger.

Sharif asked sharply, ‘Does it not fit?’

Liyah looked at him. She shook her head. ‘It fits fine...it’s just...big.’

The plane touched down smoothly at that moment. As the roar of the throttle eased, and the plane made its way to the hangar where they would disembark, Liyah asked, ‘This really was always intended to be a marriage in name only?’

Sharif nodded. ‘As per the prenuptial agreement—it’s all there in black and white.’

‘But what...?’ Liyah stopped, suddenly hesitant.’

Sharif lifted a brow. ‘What...?’

Liyah could feel herself getting hot again. ‘What about the fact that we...?’ She stopped again, unable to articulate the words.

‘Slept together?’

She nodded.

Sharif’s expression hardened.