Anne was never jealous of Carolyn. Even now with a lifetime of happiness ahead of her, Anne only wished her the best. Carolyn deserved it. After spending years planning weddings for other people, she’d finally planned her own to a man she was madly in love with.
Anne was determined to try to enjoy the reception for as long as she could. The good news was she’d been able to avoid the groom’s cousin completely so far. The bad news was she was so terribly tired. All she wanted to do right now was to lie down and take a nap. It was a side effect of the medicine, she knew. At least her tears had dried up and she wouldn’t be accused of getting emotional over a wedding.
The house on the bluff above the ocean was beautiful. The view from the garden was spectacular. Guests were handed a glass of champagne or sparkling fruit juice as they arrived at the entrance to the patio. Anne sipped her champagne gratefully. Her mouth was as dry as cotton. She found a chair half hidden behind a native fern and drained her glass. She heard voices, saw shapes and forms but hoped that no one, especially no one from the wedding party, could see her or they’d ask her what was wrong, insist she join the party, meet someone and say something. Never a social butterfly, she had never felt less social than today.
Suddenly the murmur of voices got louder. Voices she recognized.
“Say, Carolyn,” a familiar male voice said, “have I told you how beautiful you look? Too bad Tarik saw you first. He has all the luck.”
“I’m the one who’s lucky, Rafik. And so happy. One of these days we’ll be dancing at your wedding.”
“Have you been talking to my father? That’s his idea of happiness, not mine. Why get married when there are so many wonderful willing women around. By the way, who’s your bridesmaid?”
“Which one?”
“In the pink dress.”
“They’re all in pink dresses.”
“Reddish hair, blue eyes.”
“You mean Anne. My best friend from high school. Stay away from her, Rafik. She’s a wonderful woman, but she’s not willing. And she’s too good for a player like you,” Carolyn said in a teasing voice.
“Why don’t we let her decide?” he asked. “Besides, everything’s about to change. I’m going to be in charge of the new office here in San Francisco. I’m afraid my party days are over and my playboy ways are going to be sharply curtailed. Not that I’ll ever settle down, but I can’t stay out all night partying anymore if I’m going to be in the office at nine every morning. Woe is me.”
“You’re too much, Rafik. Let me introduce you to Lila. She’s a lot of fun.”
“I met her. She’s fine but not my type. Have you seen Anne around?”
“Rafik, I warned you…” Carolyn sighed. “No, I haven’t seen her since the church.”
Just as Anne was congratulating herself on her apparent invisibility, the pollen from the flowers that bordered the ferns she was hiding behind overcame her antihistamines and she sneezed.
Carolyn peeked around the plants. “There you are,” she said. She and Rafik circled around the ferns and stood looking down at her. “Come on and join the party. You’ve met Tarik’s cousin Rafik, haven’t you?”
“Yes, of course, I mean, that is I…I….” she stammered. “Not formally.”
Rafik held out his hand and he pulled her to her feet. If it weren’t for him she might have fallen over. Her knees wobbled and she felt dizzy. She hoped they wouldn’t notice. Carolyn didn’t, but then her head was in the clouds. Rafik gave Anne a searching second glance.
“Happy to meet you, Anne,” he said, trapping her hand between both of his. She tugged, but he had no intention of letting her go. Maybe it was just as well. Without his support she might have toppled over.
“If you two will excuse me,” Carolyn said. “I must say hello to some people. Rafik, remember what I said,” she added pointedly.
Anne wanted to go with her. Surely there were people she had to say hello to, too. But she couldn’t move. So she stood there, her hand still being held tightly by the sheik who showed no sign of remembering anything Carolyn had said. Why? she asked herself. Why didn’t he go off and dance with Lila, why stay with her?
“You look like you could use something to drink,” he said, studying her with narrowed eyes.
She nodded. “I’m really thirsty.”
“Let’s get some champagne and a few of those delicious hors d’oeuvres.” He tucked her hand securely under his arm for the second time that day and they strolled over to a table laden with all kinds of delectable canapés. With his support, she felt stronger, more in control.
“Champagne?” she asked. “I didn’t know you were permitted to drink.”
“My brother and I were sent to boarding school in the U.S. as kids. Then we stayed in this country for university on the east coast since the family business is multinational. I’m afraid we’re pretty much Americanized by now. For better or worse.” Again that disarming grin. The one that charmed all those willing women who were no doubt in his life. “You notice Tarik is serving fruit juice, too, for those like my parents who observe the religious rules of our country.”
Anne felt much better after she’d eaten two stuffed mushrooms and drunk another glass of champagne. “I’m fine now,” she said to the sheik. “Thank you.” You can go now. Don’t feel obliged to take care of me.
“Sure you’re all right? Not going to cry anymore?”
“For the last time, I wasn’t crying.” Goodbye.
“Right. You notice I didn’t mention it to your friend Carolyn.”
“I appreciate that,” Anne said. “If you’ll excuse me I’m going to uh…I see some friends over there. Nice meeting you.” If that wasn’t a decided exit, she didn’t know what was, she thought as she walked slowly across the lawn, her high heels scraping the ground. She didn’t turn to see if she’d hurt his feelings. She was sure she wasn’t capable of any such thing. He was most likely on his way to find another woman, chat up another bridesmaid, hoping she’d be more receptive to his so-called charm.
Rafik stood watching the woman wobble across the lawn, Carolyn’s words ringing in his ears. A wonderful woman. Stay away from her. Too good for you.
She was right. Anne was just the type he was not interested in. Shy. Quiet. Emotional. Heaven save him from the weepy kind of women who cry at weddings. Oh, it was okay if you were the mother of the bride or groom. So what was wrong with him, hitting on a woman who was most definitely not his type? There was something about her, the way she tried to hold back the tears that brought out the protector in him. She made him feel admirable. The way she looked at him through damp lashes, cheeks flushed, her face framed in that gorgeous red-gold hair.
He reminded himself he was not interested in being admirable. He was not looking to protect someone. He was looking for a smooth, sexy, smart and sassy woman who could protect herself. Anne Sheridan was none of the above. Besides she was a friend of Carolyn’s, his new cousin-in-law whom he respected. Half-reluctantly, he turned and looked over the bevy of lovely women, enough women gathered here to please a whole family of sheiks. For some reason he couldn’t seem to focus on any one of them.
“Hey,” his brother threw an arm around his shoulders. “Having fun? Who was the lady in pink I saw you with?”
“Just one of the bridesmaids.”
“I know it was one of the bridesmaids,” Rahman said. “What’s her name?”