The Sheikh's Forbidden Wife (Desert Kings Alliance Book 3) by Mel Teshco

Author:Mel Teshco [Teshco, Mel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Yasmine surreptitiously watched her husband as he read the menu, her own menu in front of her face as she pretended to do the same thing.

He looked up and caught her staring, and he grinned and asked, “How does steak tartare sound?”

She resisting an emphatic shake of her head and telling him raw meat wasn’t her thing, no matter that the citrus gently cooked it. But thanks to her dad, staying agreeable and polite to Jamal was in her best interest now.

She didn’t want her marriage wrecked before it’d even begun, yet that was exactly what might happen if she kept giving into her dad’s demands.

What other choice do you have? Your people need you, too.

It didn’t make her any less sick to the stomach having to go through with it.

The waiter arrived and Jamal ordered their steak tartare and a bottle of champagne. The chilled bubbly was brought to them minutes later and Jamal poured them each a glass, then raised his flute in a toast. “To us,” he announced.

She lifted her own glass, then added, “May our marriage be a long and happy one.”

His gaze turned speculative as they clinked their glasses together and drank deep. Her stomach roiled again. But if he suspected something he didn’t bring it up, instead they talked about neutral subjects until the waiter arrived with their dinner.

Yasmine hid a grimace at the compressed round of meat with capers and herbs, and topped with a raw egg yolk. She swallowed hard as she picked up her fork, spearing a piece of the meat dressed with lemon juice and some of the egg yolk before she took a delicate mouthful. The meat was tender and no doubt tasty, but she had serious trouble swallowing it.

She played with her food for a handful of minutes while Jamal ate his with gusto. Then placing her fork onto the side of her plate, she leaned back in her seat and pushed her plate away. Forcing herself to eat anymore would make her stomach rebel further.

Jamal dabbed at one corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Are you not enjoying your meal?”

“It was…lovely. But I’ve had enough.”

He cocked a brow. “You’ve barely eaten more than a mouthful.”

Her husband was far too observant. She was beginning to resent how he noticed absolutely everything and nothing got past him. Her father wouldn’t have cared less if she picked at her food like a sparrow. Perhaps that was why her dad was flailing while Jamal was so successful.

Next time she’d order what she wanted.

“Steak tartare possibly wasn’t the best choice for me,” she conceded.

“Oh?”

She ran her finger along the gold edge of her plate. “I usually enjoy my steak well-done.”

His brows lowered. “Then why didn’t you say so?” He raised his arm and a waiter hurried over. “Can we exchange this steak tartare for your finest piece of steak, cooked well-done.”

“Of course, Sheikh Jamal,” the waiter said, his voice shaking with nerves. He clearly had a serious case of hero worship.

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