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Lauren gripped the wooden surface, an ie of Zafir dead instantly pressed upon her by her overactivethe sweet taste of the sherbet into bitterness
That he o Yet having seen hi to him She picked up a napkin and knelt to soak up the stain fro “Why would—”
A knock at the door to the suite cut off her question
A woman, dressed in a maroon kaftan and head robes that covered her hair, entered the suite She had a silver tray in her hand, the contents of it covered by a red velvet cloth lined with gold threads
Kohl-rilances at her as the woman spoke to Farrah Her eyes wide, Farrah stared at Lauren and back at the wohness wants to see you in an hour on the rooftop garden,” Farrah said, her gaze tellingly blank of any expression
The woman stepped forward and stretched her ar low in her belly
Her heart going thuasp With shaking hands, she took the precious eown from the tray and unfolded it, the soft crunch of tissue wrapped in its folds puncturing the silence
Thousands of tiny crystals, sewn along the deht bodice, winked at her A pencil line skirt flared froh slit in the back
A dress fit for a princess, a sheikha, or a rich
It would fit her like a glove, Lauren realized Her gaze caught Farrah’s for a second, and the sa, she dropped the gown, feeling more dirty than she had ever felt
The curiosity hich the tomen watched her every move, every nuance in her expression, scraped at her nerves
Were they couest tucked away in the High Sheikh’s quarters, on whoifts of the most intimate kind
What kind of a ga?