Read Online A Family Affair by Fern Michaels - Free Book Online Page A

gaze on her brother and opined, “Perhaps it is you, my brother, that has upset our guest.”
    “Me! Don’t be ridiculous. If that is the best you can come up with, go back to bed. Rashid?”
    Rashid shrugged. “Women are strange creatures. How many times have we discussed this? Too many to count. Maybe she was crying with happiness. It is possible. Women do cry when they are happy. Your sister herself told me this.”
    “And you believe my sister!” There was such outrage in Malik’s voice that Rashid cringed.
    Rashid shrugged. “There is a way to find out, Malik. You simply ask her in the morning, when you meet for breakfast. Of course, she might not like your asking, knowing that people are and have been spying on her. You don’t know a lot about women, do you?” Rashid said.
    “About as much as you do, obviously. Women cry. I understand that. I just don’t know the why of it. We have treated her like a princess. We showered her with gifts. We have seen to everything. What did we miss? Well? What did we miss?”
    “Look, this is just a wild guess on my part, Malik, but maybe it’s you. Maybe she expected you to . . . I don’t know . . . be more amorous, more like American men. She is an American, you know.”
    “What are you saying? I have too much respect for Trish to . . . to . . .”
    “Yes,” Rashid drawled.
    “You know what I’m saying. Do you really think she thinks I should . . .”
    “Like I’m suddenly an authority on women? I don’t know, Malik. Maybe she was expecting you to sweep her off her feet, declare undying love, like in American films. It is a possibility, and it’s the only one I can think of.”
    Malik sat down on the edge of his bed. “Rashid, I can’t kiss her, have sex with her, not that I don’t dream of that night and day, because I have to be true to my faith. Only if we are betrothed can I kiss her.”
    “Aha! You know that. I know that. But does Miss Holiday know that? Of course she doesn’t. She’s American. She thinks you aren’t interested in her in a romantic sense. See, Malik? Now it all makes sense. She thinks she isn’t good enough for you. Otherwise, you would have made a . . . What’s the saying? A move on her . . . by now.”
    “Is that possible, Rashid?” Malik asked, misery ringing in his voice.
    Flushed with this newfound knowledge of women, Rashid beamed and said, “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Therefore, it must be true.”
    “Then that makes me stupid, Rashid.”
    “Yes, my friend, it does.”
    “So, what do I do now?”
    Rashid threw his hands in the air. “What do you want me to do? Draw you a diagram? Figure it out. I’m going back to bed. Remember this, though. You have only two more days. Actually, less than two days. Good night, Malik.”
    The moment the door closed behind Rashid, Malik got dressed and beelined to his cave, where he popped a bottle of Budweiser and sat down to contemplate his next move. All those years of study, all the academics, and here he sat, looking like a fool.
    He was a fool. He now had less than forty-eight hours to make a decision. Why had he thought that miraculously something would come to him to help him along? Was it his intention to wait till the eleventh hour to declare his intentions? How stupid was that? Where did that kind of thinking come from? Rashid was right: He knew less than nothing about women, and he had no one to ask. Just blunder along and hope for the best. Well, obviously, that wasn’t going to be good enough.... Correct that thought.... It wasn’t good enough for Trish Holiday.
    He loved her. Had loved her the minute he set eyes on her. Had been waiting for her to give him a sign, a clue, that she felt the same way. She’d told him that she loved his eyes, his smile, that she felt safe with him. Wasn’t the man supposed to make the first move? But they were of different