My Desert Rose
Authors: Kalia Lewis
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #love, #contemporary romance, #weddings, #sheikh, #somali pirates, #kalia lewis
Rose
Romance
Lewis
Rose
Kalia
Lewis
Copyright 2013
by Kalia Lewis
Smashwords
Edition
Cover: Licensed
photograph: Curaphotograpy
Editor: Jools
Bond: [email protected]
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This ebook is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events,
or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
I would like to
thank Mike Robinson: for the continuous support and for being a
mirror to bounce off: for doing the cleaning, feeding me and making
endless cups of tea. Love you.
Many thanks
also to:
Cheyanne
Lowther: for being my romance gauge and inspiration (plus Ian and
Isla!). Love you.
Louiza Le-Rose:
for your encouragement (you were right about Amira!). Love you.
Nigel Smith
& Katie Webber (and Gussey!): for your sharing. Love you.
Mum and dad:
love you, and dad, thanks for sharing my first book with all your
nurse friends :0)
Jools Bond: for
your wonderful support and funny comments during the editing!
To all my
friends on Facebook (especially W/W) - for the love and laughter -
you know who you are!
And to you dear
reader - I write for you - it's you who helps me to learn and
grow.
Thank you.
The wedding
itself was simply flawless. The only small detail that could be
considered questionable was the fact that she wasn't doing the
photography. Okay, so being the maid of honour
and
the
photographer would have proved to be no easy feat, but hey, she was
an expert at multitasking, or so she told herself.
Shifting from
foot-to-foot again, Katie really wished she'd visited the washroom
before walking down the tree-lined avenue with the wedding parade.
The slightly rounded, red-cheeked vicar turned and gave her another
one of his 'stop fidgeting' looks over his shoulder. It wasn't her
fault that the obligatory glass of champagne in the bride's
quarters while getting ready had turned into two.
Katie watched
the bride with affection as she walked down the avenue towards the
white arched podium, under which they were currently standing.
Overhead, a canopy of maple trees set the scene as the Texan sun
bounced off their autumn leaves of russet-red and spun-gold. Fallen
leaves had also created a romantic carpet of interwoven garnet and
citrine tones for the bride to walk upon. The groom, along with his
and the bride's nine year old daughter, April, were waiting for her
to join them in front of the hearty vicar. They'd chosen to marry
as a family.
Annabelle was
wearing a simple white 50s style lace wedding dress, which flared
out and came to her ankles. The nearly five-month pregnancy was
hardly noticeable. Katie recalled the joke from that morning about
how Annabelle had fallen pregnant on the first and second time of
having sex with Tristan - once ten years ago with April and then
during their first time since reuniting a decade later.
Katie smiled.
Tristan was looking at Annabelle as if the sun rose and fell with
her. Oh, what she'd give to be loved like that. A deep yearning
stirred inside of her, causing her eyes to mist over and she
sniffed loudly. Annabelle had given her a pep talk beforehand and
slapped a 'no crying' rule on her. She was a loud, messy crier, she
couldn't help it. When emotion hits you, it hits you and she wasn't
one for having those dainty little whimpers from the black and
white movies. No, not her, she was definitely a bawler.
Gulping back
the emotion of it all, she looked down at her own dress. It was a
shorter replica of Annabelle's, but in gold. It was pretty and
quaint, but not quite what she'd pick out for herself. The slimline
style of Audrey Hepburn was more her taste than the big skirts of
Grace Kelly. Realising that she was actually on full show before
dozens of congregational eyes, she self-consciously stood up
straighter and sucked in her stomach for the fiftieth time that
day. The dress had fitted fine last week, but it was all that
scrummy fried chicken she'd eaten since landing in Texas that was
widening her waistline and making the dress feel tight.
If only they'd
allowed her to be the photographer. This would have guaranteed her
more exercise from walking and sizing up the area rather than
adding unnecessary pounds to her already generous frame from
sampling the chef's delights in the kitchen. Mentally, she kicked
herself again for missing out on some incredible shots. Locating
Jeremy, her replacement, taking pictures from the back of the
congregation, she copied the vicar by giving him one of her own
'I'm watching you' looks. His response was to grin at her.
Obviously, the twenty minute verbal warning she'd given him as he'd
arrived that morning had not fazed him at all! Well, he'd better
pull out all the stops and capture the magic of the day.
Turning away
from Jeremy to the other side of the podium, she caught a wink from
the best man, Wade, Annabelle's brother and Tristan's closest
friend. Now there was a hunky man if she ever saw one. Tall and
athletic with dirty-blonde hair, he was a James Dean look alike. If
only she could feel something romantic about him. She checked
inside, nope, no rush of butterflies, just good old-fashioned
affection.
Sighing heavily
at the state of her non-existent love life, she scanned the
congregation, who were sitting in neat rows of white chairs along
the avenue. The gold and white sashes tied around the backs of the
chairs had been left to drape to the floor, complementing the whole
effect.
Katie's eyes
rested upon Annabelle's mother, Rose, at the front, who kept
sharing secret glances with Tristan's father, Preston. Hmmm,
interesting, she thought, looks like a budding romance on the
horizon. A small group of Tristan's business associates sat behind
Preston. One or two of them kept looking at their watches. That
riled her. If they didn't want to be here, why come? Snapping her
eyes off the group, they moved a row behind and fell on a man's
pair of dark eyes looking right back at her. One of his eyebrows
was raised, as though asking her what she was doing with her loud
sniffles, stomach sucking and nosey parkering. Katie ignored the
look, but she did shiver in delight as she took in his eastern
profile, which was dark and dangerous and dripping with sexuality.
A little flutter tingled in her belly. Oh yeah, move over James
Dean, hello Imran Khan from Bollywood!
Trying not to
look too affected by his attention, she glanced away and looked
over the rest of the congregation. Smiling faces, mainly Tristan's
ranch hands and their families, peered back as they watched the
loved-up pair say, 'I do'. Flicking her eyes back to those dark
ones, she saw that he was now smiling at her in open amusement.
This time she raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Would you like your
picture taken hot Bollywood boy?' Clearly, that was the wrong
question to send his way, as the amusement drained from his eyes
and a fire so primal and intense replaced it. Even from this
distance she could feel the sexual challenge he was sending her
way, possibly something like, 'Only if you do it naked'. Oh my, a
blush infused her cheeks. The look was so blistering she'd need a
fan to cool down her rising temperature.
After the
service, the congregation walked back down the jewelled avenue and
along to the main house where all the patio doors were open and a
marquee was waiting, ready to receive the guests for a lavish, yet
intimate dinner.
Sitting at the
top table, Katie had refused to look in the direction of the
mysterious man, even though it meant a cricked neck. Whoever had
done the seating plan had promptly sat him in the beeline of her
vision. Annabelle kept giving her little encouraging smiles and
slightly nodding her head his way as if to say, 'Have you seen him
yet?' Katie would bet her latest camera that this was her doing.
The food was really delicious though, but it's not exactly easy to
swallow with your head turned to the side. Rose kept looking at her
strangely and asking her if she was okay. Well, you would ask
someone that if their head was turned in your direction, staring at
you while chewing over the same piece until it dissolved. At one
point, deciding that she really must eat something, she looked
straight ahead, met his amused look, swallowed and then quickly
looked away.
Why couldn't
she
have done the photography, she sighed to herself again.
That way, she would've had something to occupy herself with instead
of trying to avoid Mr. Hot Bollywood's eyes. Not being behind a
lens really did make her feel vulnerable. Thinking about shots and
angles, she purposely sought out Jeremy again. He was taking a shot
of Mr. Hot Bollywood. Nice. At that moment Mr. Hot Bollywood caught
her looking and he had the cheek to wink at her. Annabelle was so
not on her Christmas card list this year.
After dinner,
most of the guests moved out onto the lawn to watch the sun as it
began to set on a perfect day. Katie located Jeremy once again. The
poor man really couldn't get away from her professional attention.
Pulling him to the side, she made the excuse of chatting to him
about lighting and shutter speeds. To be honest, she was panicking.
The magnetic pull of Mr. Hot Bollywood was making her feel a bit
too giddy. Work had the ability to switch her mind off anything
that did not include a lens, so she didn't see Annabelle approach
until she felt a hug from behind. Jeremy made a loud noise of
relief and left quicker than Speedy Gonzalez. "Was it something I
said?" she mused out loud to herself.
"There you
are!" Annabelle chirped into her back.
"Hey, your bump
is kicking my kidneys," she joked.
Annabelle
laughed. "You truly are the best maid of honour ever."
Katie turned to
see the joy and love on her face. "Awwww, look at you. Marriage so
suits you and it's only been two hours." She didn't think she'd
ever seen Annabelle this happy. The way they'd exchanged vows and
added extra ones for April had nearly brought her to her knees in a
heap of Grace Kelly lace while bawling loudly. "It was a beautiful
ceremony," she sighed dreamily.
Annabelle
grinned mischievously. "It really was, and it only took Tristan ten
years to get me to the altar."
"Ah well,
better late than never," she joked back as she bent over to rub
Annabelle's bump. "So, how's the bubba today?" she asked it.
Patting her
expanded tummy, Annabelle chided it in humour. "Bubba has been a
very naughty boy!"