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“I can live with that. I think.”
Amira turned out to be just as good with makeup as she was with hair. When she finished, Mila looked like the kind of woman who enjoyed an elegant lifestyle. Her eyes had just a subtle hint of amber glitter, her skin was smooth and had a slight glow, and her lips were full with a dark and sexy hue.
“You just have to trust me. I will always know best,” Amira boasted as she dressed herself in a gorgeous maroon gown. “You were born to be a show stopper. You just needed the right touch. My touch.”
“So modest,” Mila joked.
A guard waited outside the door to escort the ladies to the gala at the Armani hotel. A car pulled around front, and Mila followed her friend in. Belatedly, she thought to ask, “What’s the gala for?”
Amira frowned as she adjusted the skirts of her dress on the seat and waved her hand. “The birthday party for the Kattans’ oldest daughter. She’s turning eighteen.” She pushed a button near the lights on the ceiling and the partition between them and the chauffer and the guard moved up.
Mira’s mouth dropped open. “Eighteen? When I turned eighteen, we bought a pack of cigarettes from the local gas station and went to see a movie.”
“You smoke?”
“No. We just did it because we could. I wouldn’t even have been able to imagine having a birthday party at a luxury hotel with the wealthiest families in the city on the guest list.”
Amira smiled bitterly. “I think that your birthday celebration sounds the more entertaining of the two. You were able to spend it with friends. You were celebrated. These lavish affairs are nothing more than another excuse for the wealthy to show off and rub elbows. I guarantee most of them won’t even speak to the guest of honor. I don’t even know her name.”
“That’s awful,” Mila said quietly, and she meant it. She knew that there was a darker side to the lives of the rich and famous, but she’d never thought that she’d be experiencing it.
“I know it’s hard for you to understand, but Rashid and I, and my two brothers, we’ve been brought up a certain way. Rashid is acting the only way that he knows how. It’s all about public image, and that’s all he’s going to show you. If you pry deep enough, you’ll learn who Rashid really is, and then you’ll know if he might actually be a man you can respect.” Amira reached over and squeezed her hand. “I would love if we were closer to you.”
Mila couldn’t help but wonder if this was the Amira who had been raised to protect her family, or if this was the Amira that Liyah always talked about.
Still, she couldn’t fault the girl’s words. Rashid wore a mask, and the question was whether Mila wanted to be patient enough to reveal the man underneath.
The car pulled up to the front of the luxury hotel, and an usher opened the door. To her surprise, there were no reporters when she stepped out, and for that, she was grateful. There was already wild speculation about her relationship with Rashid. What would happen if people knew that she was socializing with Amira?
The hotel ballroom was filled with people she only recognized from television. Politicians, models, celebrities, and royalty alike rubbed elbows. Mila stood in shock as she glanced around. The fanciest thing that Mila had ever been to had been Liyah’s wedding, and Liyah had insisted that it be kept small. Of course, small for the Sharif family was still two hundred people.
“Mila. You look beautiful,” Rashid said in a low voice behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the compliment wrap itself around her. She still hadn’t forgiven him for the stunt he’d pulled yesterday, but she couldn’t lie to herself. There was something strong between them.
She just wasn’t sure what it might be. Amira reached over and squeezed her hand. “I see someone that I want to speak with. Enjoy yourself.”
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“Don’t—“ Mila bit her tongue as her new friend abandoned her. She felt exposed, knowing that Rashid was right behind her.
Slowly turning, she propped her hand up on her hip and studied him. The man was dangerous in a tuxedo, sexy as sin, and based on that smile, he knew it, too. It did nothing to stop Mila’s heart from skipping a beat as she struggled to hold on to her indignation. “Most people call to invite someone to a party. Send an e-vite. In the old days, you actually got a card. But you—” she eyed him narrowly. “You send a car and a driver to kidnap me. Couldn’t do the dirty work yourself?”
“I knew you were upset, and I wanted to show you a good time that didn’t involve any cameras. This seemed like the best way to do it.” He didn’t exactly offer an apology, but he did present his arm.
Knowing how bad it would look if she caused a scene, she accepted it. “You thought a pretty dress and celebrities would turn my head?” she whispered as they wove their way through the crowd.
“I was hoping that I might turn your head,” he said with a devilish grin. “A romantic atmosphere is always a good start.”
He reached out and snagged a glass of champagne to hand to her before getting one of his own.
She took a grateful sip and hoped the bubbles would soothe her nerves. She felt jumpy tonight. “A romantic atmosphere is a candlelight dinner. This is just showing off.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Not to mention, I’m crashing the birthday party of someone I’ve never even met.” Remembering Amira’s confession, she suddenly wondered if Rashid himself had ever met the birthday girl.
Rashid stopped suddenly and gazed down at her. “If there is anyone in this room that I would like to impress, it would be you, Mila. I would like your approval, and that’s not something I usually have to seek with most people.”
Her heart started to pitter-patter, and she took another sip of her champagne to try and hide her reaction. She was supposed to be annoyed with him, not charmed. Seeing a well-known Hollywood star in the middle of one laughing group of celebrators, she brightened. “Do you think Brad Pitt is here, too?” she whispered excitedly.
An annoyed expression crossed his face, and she couldn’t help giggling.
“I do love it when you smile,” he said as he shook his head.
