Read Online Sheikh's Castaway by Alexandra Sellers - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexandra Sellers
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had flown halfway around the world to celebrate with her, and she hadnât even done them the simple honour of telling them that she had changed her mind and the wedding wouldnât take place.
As if that understanding unlocked a door in her heart, a host of other visions suddenly flashed through her unwilling mind, one after the other. Moments in her past when she had acted selfishly, even cruelly. Girls at school whom she had cut, or insulted, or laughed at when they tried to be popular, or wore the wrong clothes. Friends she had dropped without explanation, a boy she had mocked when he asked her outâ¦
All the time believing she was in the right. NoorAshkani could do no wrong. She brooked no criticism. Dare to doubt Noorâs actions and you were out of the charmed circle before you took another breath.
All her life she had acted as if she were the person who mattered. She hadnât believed that consciously, but she could see with painful clarity now that it had been the unconscious basis of her actions.
The discovery that Bari didnât love her had cut to the quick her self-importance, and she had reacted with pure arrogance. She had hurt and insulted everyone.
Noor looked up. Bariâs expression was grim, but even if it hadnât been, she couldnât tell him what thoughts and what painful self-realization poured through her. Not Bari, of all people, who sat in such harsh judgement and had never lovedâprobably didnât even likeâher.
Bari watched his bride impassively, her chin trembling as she struggled against emotion. She sat with head bent, her hands hiding her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. He let her cry for a few minutes. It was probably no more than the shock of the crash being released, and he was angry enough to remain unmoved. But when the choked sobs began to become a wail, it was time to call a halt.
âThatâs enough,â he ordered without apology, tossing another packet at her. It landed on the rustling gold blanket. âYou canât afford to waste any more energy.â
Noorâs breathing shifted into a series of panting gasps, like a child, as she struggled to stifle her tears. She wiped her face and blew her nose on her beautiful dress, picked up the little plastic box and gazed at it stupidly.
âWhat is it?â
âFirst aid kit,â he said.
Why had she asked for the kit? The mixture of shameand misery kept her head bent, and she found relief in wrestling with the plastic seal. She reached for the flashlight and shone it briefly on the contents. The first thing her eyes fell on was a vial of seasickness pills.
As if there were a direct causal link, Noorâs stomach heaved. With a strangled cry she tossed the kit and the flashlight aside and dived for the entrance, her gold foil cloak rustling wildly. She ripped the flap down and, thrusting her head out into the storm, clutched the side of the raft, leaned over, and heaved up the shock and grief and shame and the million other undefined things she was feeling, until there seemed to be nothing left, either in her stomach or in her heart.
When it was over at last, she reached her hand down into the sea and scooped up handfuls of water to wash her face and rinse her mouth. The salt stung her eyes and tasted on her lips, but the coolness of the water seemed to bring her back to herself.
When she was through she felt purged, cleansed. She drew her head back inside and sealed the flap again. Bari ignored her.
Well, she wasnât asking for his sympathy. She wasnât asking for anything from him. She had learned something about herself in the past half hour, and it had been a very painful lesson. Some fundamental shift seemed to have happened in her, and for the second time in a few months she had the sensation of not knowing who she was.
But there was no way she was going to try to tell Bari that. He would probably think she was making it up.
âThe storm is
As if that understanding unlocked a door in her heart, a host of other visions suddenly flashed through her unwilling mind, one after the other. Moments in her past when she had acted selfishly, even cruelly. Girls at school whom she had cut, or insulted, or laughed at when they tried to be popular, or wore the wrong clothes. Friends she had dropped without explanation, a boy she had mocked when he asked her outâ¦
All the time believing she was in the right. NoorAshkani could do no wrong. She brooked no criticism. Dare to doubt Noorâs actions and you were out of the charmed circle before you took another breath.
All her life she had acted as if she were the person who mattered. She hadnât believed that consciously, but she could see with painful clarity now that it had been the unconscious basis of her actions.
The discovery that Bari didnât love her had cut to the quick her self-importance, and she had reacted with pure arrogance. She had hurt and insulted everyone.
Noor looked up. Bariâs expression was grim, but even if it hadnât been, she couldnât tell him what thoughts and what painful self-realization poured through her. Not Bari, of all people, who sat in such harsh judgement and had never lovedâprobably didnât even likeâher.
Bari watched his bride impassively, her chin trembling as she struggled against emotion. She sat with head bent, her hands hiding her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. He let her cry for a few minutes. It was probably no more than the shock of the crash being released, and he was angry enough to remain unmoved. But when the choked sobs began to become a wail, it was time to call a halt.
âThatâs enough,â he ordered without apology, tossing another packet at her. It landed on the rustling gold blanket. âYou canât afford to waste any more energy.â
Noorâs breathing shifted into a series of panting gasps, like a child, as she struggled to stifle her tears. She wiped her face and blew her nose on her beautiful dress, picked up the little plastic box and gazed at it stupidly.
âWhat is it?â
âFirst aid kit,â he said.
Why had she asked for the kit? The mixture of shameand misery kept her head bent, and she found relief in wrestling with the plastic seal. She reached for the flashlight and shone it briefly on the contents. The first thing her eyes fell on was a vial of seasickness pills.
As if there were a direct causal link, Noorâs stomach heaved. With a strangled cry she tossed the kit and the flashlight aside and dived for the entrance, her gold foil cloak rustling wildly. She ripped the flap down and, thrusting her head out into the storm, clutched the side of the raft, leaned over, and heaved up the shock and grief and shame and the million other undefined things she was feeling, until there seemed to be nothing left, either in her stomach or in her heart.
When it was over at last, she reached her hand down into the sea and scooped up handfuls of water to wash her face and rinse her mouth. The salt stung her eyes and tasted on her lips, but the coolness of the water seemed to bring her back to herself.
When she was through she felt purged, cleansed. She drew her head back inside and sealed the flap again. Bari ignored her.
Well, she wasnât asking for his sympathy. She wasnât asking for anything from him. She had learned something about herself in the past half hour, and it had been a very painful lesson. Some fundamental shift seemed to have happened in her, and for the second time in a few months she had the sensation of not knowing who she was.
But there was no way she was going to try to tell Bari that. He would probably think she was making it up.
âThe storm is
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