Date with a Surgeon Prince by Meredith Webber

Author:Meredith Webber [Webber, Meredith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin (UK) Limited
Published: 2013-11-19T23:00:00+00:00

The Plaza Hotel was surely bigger than the palace!

That was Marni’s first thought on seeing it as they drove up a long drive to an immense building spread across the top of a slight rise.

And far more opulent, she realised as she entered the enormous lobby so gilded and arched and carpeted it looked more like a posh showroom of some kind than a hotel.

Tasnim was waiting, perched on a chair beside a lounge setting.

‘Would you believe they don’t have ordinary chairs like this in the lobby?’ she demanded, when she’d greeted Marni with a kiss on the cheek. ‘I had to ask someone to find one for me. There’s no way I could have stood up from one of those low, soft sofas without making a total fool of myself.’

Marni smiled, doubting the formidable Tasnim could ever make a fool of herself anywhere.

‘Come,’ Tasnim continued. ‘We’ll be given refreshments in the boutique. I phoned ahead and asked for my favourite one to be closed for us. The women from the other boutiques will come there with whatever else we need.’

A shop closed so she could shop? Once again Marni found herself in fantasy land.

‘I’ve made a list,’ Tasnim told her. ‘I thought half a dozen everyday things for a start. Just things like you’re wearing today so your way of dressing doesn’t offend anyone. Then half a dozen formal outfits—two kinds—Western for entertaining diplomats and other foreigners, and Eastern for entertaining locals. And some casual clothes for at home and for when Ghazi visits.’

‘I have my own clothes for at home,’ Marni protested as they entered the boutique, a woman bowing them through the door.

‘Nonsense! You can’t be wearing the same thing every time you see Ghazi, now, can you?’

Couldn’t she?

Marni felt a little lump of sadness lodged beneath her breast.

Because she knew Ghazi didn’t really care what she was wearing?

Probably!

Although he had said she looked beautiful this morning…

The lump remained.

Tasnim was talking to the saleswoman, the words rattling around the beautifully set-up salon.

Marni was checked out, looked up and down, ordered to turn around, then told to sit on a low love seat and offered tea.

She shook her head and looked about her. There was only one gown on display—a Western evening gown made of some silvery material, and sewn with beads and crystals so it shimmered under a discreetly placed light.

It appeared perfectly simple in style and cut and yet was breathtakingly beautiful.

‘Local things first,’ Tasnim declared, returning with the saleswoman and a young woman who was pushing a trolley hung with clothes, spectacular clothes in rich greens and blues, long loose trousers, patterned and beaded tunics that would go over them and at the end of the rack a selection of black abayas.

An hour later, Marni was the rather hesitant possessor of four new pairs of trousers and five new tunics. She’d put her foot down over Tasnim’s suggestion she’d need half a dozen, listened in disbelief as Tasnim and the saleswoman claimed to have hundreds of such outfits, and had been talked into the fifth tunic because it was so beautiful.

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