Marriage Behind the Fa?ade by Lynn Raye Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

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    This at least was something of which her father could approve. Something useful and practical, unlike art. She’d even thought of taking some classes in graphic design, of working to create things for people. It wasn’t the same as painting, but it was artistic—and you could make money doing it.
    She made a few last changes, and then uploaded the new page to the website. The blazing purple graphic she’d created for The Reed Team stood out, her parents’ smiling faces gazing at her so confidently.
    Now theirs was an admirable marriage. John and Beth Reed had met in college and been inseparable since. They’d married within a year, had two children, started their business and built it into something they could be proud of. Alicia, her older sister, was an overachiever like their parents. She was blond, stunning and wildly popular when they were still in school. As an adult, she hadn’t stopped excelling: a Rhodes scholar, Alicia had graduated at the top of her law class. She was a huge asset to The Reed Team now that they’d branched into commercial real estate.
    Sydney slapped the laptop closed with more force than necessary. The old sibling rivalry was alive and well. She loved Alicia and applauded her success. But she’d always felt like the odd duck in her family of swans. She was the only fair-skinned redhead, the only artistic type, the only one who didn’t get a visceral charge out of making business deals. When she was little, she’d thought she was adopted—but now she knew it wasn’t true. She had her mother’s bone structure, her father’s eyes. She was a Reed all right.
    But she was still the odd duck.
    Lunch arrived sometime after the noon hour, served by Hala and a man who stood mutely by with the tray of food as Hala retrieved dishes and arranged them on the low table in the living area of Sydney’s suite.
    There were dishes of olives, hummus, baba ghanoush, and grilled lamb with tomatoes that was served over fragrant basmati rice. Hala bowed and backed away, the man with her following suit. When they were a certain distance from her, they pivoted and hurried out the door.
    Sydney blinked, and then shook her head slowly. The only time Alicia had been the tiniest bit envious of her was when she’d started to date Malik. If her sister could see this, she would no doubt turn pea-green.
    Except that appearances were certainly deceptive. There was nothing to be jealous of, unless Alicia had a burning desire to live with a man who turned her inside out—and not in a good way—for the next forty days. Since Alicia’s current boyfriend basically worshipped the ground she walked on, Sydney doubted she’d want to trade places. Who would?
    Sydney frowned. She had to stop comparing her life to Alicia’s perfect one. It did no good and only made her feel worse.
    “They do you honor because you are a princess,” Malik said, and Sydney whirled to find him entering her rooms from the terrace. Today he was wearing a pair of khaki trousers and a crisp white shirt. Not so exotic as the dishdasha, but still unbearably handsome. Even in Western dress, he somehow managed to look as if he’d just ridden in from the desert on the back of a fiery Arabian steed.
    Sydney’s heart kicked up several notches as he met her gaze, her skin heating by degrees until she knew she must have been red in the face.
    She couldn’t help it. She was flustered, embarrassed and angry. Not a good combination.
    “I wish they wouldn’t,” she said. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
    His sensual mouth flattened. “I know this. Why do you think I did not bring you to Jahfar before?”
    Sydney tilted her chin up. “If that was your reason, why couldn’t you have told me? Seems awfully convenient to say that now, Malik.”
    He strode toward her. She stood her ground until the last second, until he was nearly upon her. Just as she turned to flee, he sank onto the cushions arrayed around the table. She stared down at him,