She wasn’t the wife his father had wanted for him, but she’d definitely do in a pinch.

Sadie, the flight attendant, appeared to check on them and when she saw that neither of them had eaten the risotto she asked if there was something else she could bring.

“The cheese plates,” Dal answered. “And whatever chocolates you might have. It’s an emergency.”

Poppy muttered something unflattering beneath her breath and Dal looked at her, eyebrow rising. “You once said chocolate helps everything.”

“Well, not this.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think once you eat some proper food and then have some excellent chocolate you’ll calm down and realize you don’t want to walk away from me in Mehkar, at the Gila airport—”

“Why not? It’s supposed to be a gorgeous country.”

“Without a passport, or money, or bra. Mehkar is not as conservative as some of our neighbors but it’s still an Arab country with a traditional culture.”

“I can’t believe you felt the need to mention the bra.”

“Men are men.”

“Well then, once we land, and you get out, send me back to England in your plane. That way I won’t be stranded and my lack of undergarments won’t create alarm.”

“And what will you do once you’re back in London?”

“Go on the holiday. Sleep in. Enjoy the freedom of being unemployed.”

“And then when you’re properly rested you’ll begin looking for a new job.”

“Yes.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “But won’t it be hard to get a decent position without references? I’d think you’d need me to put in a good word for you. You did work for me for four years after all.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What happened today in the chapel wasn’t fair, either.”

“Sophie always did say she knew you better than I thought. Clearly, she was right.”

His secretary was so disillusioned that he almost felt sorry for her. “It will be better tomorrow.”

“What will be?”

“The disappointment. You’ll realize it’s just a temporary setback, and life goes on.”

Poppy glared at him, her brown eyes flashing. “Thank you for that extremely deep and insightful philosophy lecture.”

Sadie returned with two cheese plates, each plate filled with cheeses, crackers and fruit, along with a bowl of chocolates. She set the plates down, centered the bowl of chocolate and disappeared.

Dal watched Poppy try to ignore the chocolates and cheese plate. It was almost comical because he knew how much she loved both things. “You really will feel better if you eat something.”

She refused to look at him, her smooth jaw set, lips pursed, expression mutinous. He’d never seen this side of her. She had a temper. He was pleased to see it, too. He’d worried that she had no backbone. He’d worried that Sophie had taken advantage of her generous nature.

“There is no reason to continue the starvation diet,” he said. “The wedding is over. No one is going to compare you to Sophie’s stick friends.”

Poppy gave him an indignant look. “They’re not sticks. They’re models.”

“They’re annoying.”

“You really think so?”

“You’ve never noticed that they live on their phones? For them, social media is more important than real human interaction.”

“It’s because they get paid for their Instagram posts. The more likes they get, the bigger the bonuses.”

He rolled his eyes. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“It’s true. I didn’t know it until one of them explained that modeling has changed.