The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(59)

“Isn’t the show entirely about your fake engagement that’s leading to a fake marriage?” Amalia asked, sharp as a tack.

“Uh…” Kaye said, unhelpfully.

“Mother, Kaye is simply trying to make conversation, and you are hounding her like a wolf. Yes, we know the premise of the show. Can we move on?”

“Why did you agree to do it?” Kaye asked, unable to help herself.

She knew Amir wanted to change the subject, but she was fascinated. Why would these people, who clearly had to have better things to do with their time, be willing to be a part of an American reality show?

Jamir took a sip, savoring the flavor of the wine before he answered.

“When Amir came to us with this project, I admit that we doubled over laughing for quite some time before we were able to discern that he was being serious.”

Amalia nodded.

“At least a full ten minutes. When he kept glaring at us, we realized he was actually planning on pursuing this silly project.”

“It’s not that silly of a project,” Amir protested.

Jamir smiled benevolently at his youngest son.

“Of course, son. It’s a capital venture that’s going to help your business. We’re all on board for helping you with whatever dream you may chase, even something as ridiculous as American reality television.”

“Thank you, Father,” Amir said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Before they could continue their conversation, the waiter returned with a series of plated foods. Everything smelled delicious, wafts of foreign spices tickling Kaye’s nostrils as he set the plates down around the table.

“This is a traditional Al Rayyan luncheon. We tend to enjoy a variety of spiced meats, though apparently none of them measure up to steak,” Jamir said, emphasizing the last word.

“You’ve clearly never tried my steak, Father. I assure you, you would be amazed.”

“I’m sure I would,” Jamir said.

Kaye watched as Amir’s family bantered between themselves, the love in their eyes evident even as they teased and cajoled each other. She thought about what it would be like when they went to film with her family, and dismissed the thought. Even thinking about calling them to give them a head’s up was out of the question. She had to hold on to the hope that the element of surprise would make them agree to the project, because she knew if asked, the answer would be a definitive and resounding no.

Amalia gestured toward the steaming plates of food.

“Eat, everyone, eat! Amir looks as though he’s wasting away.”

“And you look ever-radiant, Mother,” Amir replied.

Amalia rolled her eyes.

“What a suck-up. Can you believe this boy? My youngest child, and he thinks he still has to pull this nonsense.”

“I will never pass up a chance to compliment my own mother. You raised me to do so, if you’ll remember.”

“That I did. I’m glad you’ve remembered at least some of your manners, you rascal child.”

“Gentle reminder that I am thirty-two years old.”

Kaye’s head bounced back and forth as mother and son teased one another, their eyes filled with love as they did so. Heeding Amalia’s call, she scooped some food from each dish, loading her fork up with delicious meat before taking a bite. The spice combined with the fact that it melted in her mouth had her nearly groaning. It was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted…except for Amir’s steak.

Her thoughts drifted back to when she had been living off of stale carbs, and she sent up a quick note of thanks towards the heavens for the meals she had indulged in since crossing paths with Amir. The rest of the meal passed pleasantly, with Amalia and Jamir regaling Kaye with embarrassing childhood stories from the Amir chronicles, all while he crossed his arms and took the verbal beating admirably.

As the main dish plates were removed, a pie dusted with cinnamon, powdered sugar, and nutmeg was placed on the table. Amir glanced up at his mother.

“You remembered!”

“My son’s favorite pie? Of course I remembered. You haven’t been away that long.”

“It’s been nearly ten years, dearest,” Jamir reminded her.

She waved a dismissive hand.

“Time flies. My son’s tastes will never truly change. He is a Sheikh of Al Rayyan. If all of his siblings pass, he will be the rightful heir to this throne.”

“That would take quite the feat,” Jamir noted.

“So it would. Be that as it may, it would seem we are roped into quite the shenanigan. I hope you’ll forgive me for my future acting, Kaye. Just know, I already like you better than Amir.”

“Mother!” Amir protested.

Kaye grinned as a slice of the cinnamon pastry was placed on a plate and set in front of her.

“I completely understand,” she said, taking a bite.

Once their meal was finished, Amalia insisted that Amir show Kaye to her quarters.

“Your wish is my command,” Amir said, with an overstated bow.

“Kaye, get some rest. If there is anything you need, you’ll find a bell located under your bedside table,” Amalia said.

“You are a gracious host, Your Highness,” Kaye thanked, followed by a respectful bow.

“Just don’t forget to learn our anthem by tomorrow. Otherwise, my character will have to kick you out.”