Read Online Desert Orchid: The Desert Princes: Book 1 by CC MacKenzie - Free Book Online
Authors: CC MacKenzie
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wear make-up, Yasmin. And do not understand why I must start now." Charisse leaned closer into the mirror to inspect her sister-in-law’s handy work. The fluttering in her heart bothered her – it bothered her a lot. And it had been going on all day since The Kiss. "I don’t look like me."
"You do look like you, only more you."
"That comment doesn’t make sense."
"It doesn’t need to make sense, it just is. Now turn around and let me look at you."
Charisse did as she was told.
Her dress had been specially made for her by the house of Chanel. It was made of heavy black silk to just above the knee with a high round neck and tight sleeves to her elbows. The neckline, hemline and sleeves were stitched with fine gold and silver embroidered leaves, which matched the embroidery at the hem of narrow legged Capri pants the colour of pewter. On her slim feet were open toed sandals of soft gold leather, which tied at the ankle. A waterfall of tiny gold balls fell from the ankle strap across her lightly tanned feet.
"You look beautiful, habibiti ," Yasmin told her as she placed a slim gold band around her neck.
Since Charisse regarded her so called beauty as nothing more than a curse, vanity had never been a problem. After all, her looks had brought her nothing but fear, rejection and horror. Unlike most women her age, she never wore artificial enhancements. Until the arrival of Khalid there had been no one in her immediate sphere of influence to tell her she looked sexy or desirable. Why would they? Certainly Asim had taken absolutely no notice of her appearance. He’d taught her, shown her, that her mind was a beautiful and wondrous thing. And he'd encouraged her to voice whatever entered her mind as long as the thought was worth hearing. Their debates on the pros and cons of global communication technology along with the positives and negatives of social networking used to rage for days. If something didn’t make sense to her, Asim had encouraged her to unravel the facts, seek the alternative point of view, and to get to the heart of the matter.
To Charisse’s way of thinking Khalid might be a handsome (okay, stunning) man, but he was a man with real issues of character. He might have made a promise to his father and say he was reformed, but she wasn’t buying it.
In her world actions spoke louder than words. His well-documented behaviour, how he’d partied his way through three continents, living and bedding woman after woman, was a recorded fact not fiction. How could he expect her to accept his word that he was happy to give up his way of life, to change the habits of a lifetime, and embrace the polar opposite in just few days? To be the ruler of a country, marry a complete stranger, father a child and live happily-ever-after was too incredible for Charisse to believe. Remembering the passion in his eyes when he spoke of making the oath to his father, Khalid had certainly sounded sincere, but would a promise be enough for an enduring change in his behaviour?
These thoughts and more spun around her brain.
Perhaps the words Asim had written in his letter about her helping Khalid fulfil his potential should be her goal? It sounded arrogant, but if Asim reckoned his nephew had potential, then it was up to her to help Khalid realise that the life he'd promised to embrace was now full of fantastic possibilities. That there was nothing he could not do, if he put his mind to it.
If anyone had told her she had an impossible task ahead, Charisse might have argued that no one, not even a spoilt prince, deserved to be tossed onto the scrap heap of life. As far as she was concerned, she’d been given a chance to live a full life, therefore Khalid deserved to be given the same opportunity. Even if what he did with that opportunity was up to him.
Ultimately, for their relationship to work, it was up to Khalid to make a real effort.
As Yasmin dabbed a light floral scent behind her ears, Charisse had to admit that the signs,
"You do look like you, only more you."
"That comment doesn’t make sense."
"It doesn’t need to make sense, it just is. Now turn around and let me look at you."
Charisse did as she was told.
Her dress had been specially made for her by the house of Chanel. It was made of heavy black silk to just above the knee with a high round neck and tight sleeves to her elbows. The neckline, hemline and sleeves were stitched with fine gold and silver embroidered leaves, which matched the embroidery at the hem of narrow legged Capri pants the colour of pewter. On her slim feet were open toed sandals of soft gold leather, which tied at the ankle. A waterfall of tiny gold balls fell from the ankle strap across her lightly tanned feet.
"You look beautiful, habibiti ," Yasmin told her as she placed a slim gold band around her neck.
Since Charisse regarded her so called beauty as nothing more than a curse, vanity had never been a problem. After all, her looks had brought her nothing but fear, rejection and horror. Unlike most women her age, she never wore artificial enhancements. Until the arrival of Khalid there had been no one in her immediate sphere of influence to tell her she looked sexy or desirable. Why would they? Certainly Asim had taken absolutely no notice of her appearance. He’d taught her, shown her, that her mind was a beautiful and wondrous thing. And he'd encouraged her to voice whatever entered her mind as long as the thought was worth hearing. Their debates on the pros and cons of global communication technology along with the positives and negatives of social networking used to rage for days. If something didn’t make sense to her, Asim had encouraged her to unravel the facts, seek the alternative point of view, and to get to the heart of the matter.
To Charisse’s way of thinking Khalid might be a handsome (okay, stunning) man, but he was a man with real issues of character. He might have made a promise to his father and say he was reformed, but she wasn’t buying it.
In her world actions spoke louder than words. His well-documented behaviour, how he’d partied his way through three continents, living and bedding woman after woman, was a recorded fact not fiction. How could he expect her to accept his word that he was happy to give up his way of life, to change the habits of a lifetime, and embrace the polar opposite in just few days? To be the ruler of a country, marry a complete stranger, father a child and live happily-ever-after was too incredible for Charisse to believe. Remembering the passion in his eyes when he spoke of making the oath to his father, Khalid had certainly sounded sincere, but would a promise be enough for an enduring change in his behaviour?
These thoughts and more spun around her brain.
Perhaps the words Asim had written in his letter about her helping Khalid fulfil his potential should be her goal? It sounded arrogant, but if Asim reckoned his nephew had potential, then it was up to her to help Khalid realise that the life he'd promised to embrace was now full of fantastic possibilities. That there was nothing he could not do, if he put his mind to it.
If anyone had told her she had an impossible task ahead, Charisse might have argued that no one, not even a spoilt prince, deserved to be tossed onto the scrap heap of life. As far as she was concerned, she’d been given a chance to live a full life, therefore Khalid deserved to be given the same opportunity. Even if what he did with that opportunity was up to him.
Ultimately, for their relationship to work, it was up to Khalid to make a real effort.
As Yasmin dabbed a light floral scent behind her ears, Charisse had to admit that the signs,
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