Wifed By The Sheikh (All He Desires Book 3)

by Holly Rayner

  Zelda couldn’t quite resist a grin; almost everyone in the room knew the circumstances of their first marriage—not necessarily in intimate detail, but enough to know that it had been a matter of convenience.

  Rasheed wove a spell over the small crowd nonetheless, telling them the miracle of Zayed and Zelda’s discovery of one another, that a marriage that had begun as a matter of simple union to solve two problems had become a union of love.

  “And now, with both of them interested only in affirming their love for one another, I ask you to listen to their vows.” Rasheed nodded slightly to Zelda. Since nothing about their vow renewal was legally official, and they were already settled from the point of view of the government, she and Zayed had written their own vows.

  “I pledge myself to you,” Zelda began, giving Zayed’s hands a quick squeeze. “I pledge myself to be your wife and companion, to take care of you even when you annoy me, to teach you to stay open even in your sadness. I promise to stand with you by night and by day, and to do everything I can to improve your life beyond what money can buy. I pledge never to run away unless you’re by my side.”

  Zayed smiled at that last promise, and a snicker went up through the room as the significance—or some of it, at least—occurred to the guests.

  “I pledge myself to you, Zelda,” the Sheikh began, at Rasheed’s cue. “I pledge myself to be your husband and equal, to provide for you and care for you even if you take impulsive risks, to encourage you to always face your fears. I swear I will stand with you, and protect you, night and day, and to do everything I can to give you the life that you deserve.” Zayed paused and Zelda saw him briefly glance at the audience. “I pledge to always go after you if you run away.”

  A murmur, composed half of soft respectful laughter and half of jealous admiration, rippled through the assembled guests.

  Rasheed continued the ceremony, similar to but not as involved as the first one they had been through to make them husband and wife. He called upon the guests to confirm that they approved of the couple’s vows, and called up Hadya and Tarek, who held the two rings, to present them.

  Zayed put the ring on Zelda’s finger, and she saw that he had gotten the jewelers to add a new coil of metal to the original woven band: silver to mingle with the platinum and gold. Zelda put a similar ring on Zayed’s finger, and the two of them kissed to seal their union, to cheers from their assembled audience.

  The ceremony over, Zayed and Zelda joined their friends, who moved away from the chairs towards the other end of the banquet hall, where the hotel’s servers had set up a bar and a few platters of food, with more coming out of the kitchen. It would not be the same huge feast that they’d served for their first wedding, and Zelda grinned to herself as the guests began to see that the “traditional” wedding foods were all absent, replaced by items she had suggested and taught the kitchen to make.

  She’d started to become just the slightest bit homesick for Miami in the month before their vowel renewal, and as Zelda and Zayed had planned, she had taken over the menu, and put in the things that she loved: Cuban-style roast pork made an appearance, as did seafood harvested halfway across the world. Zelda had put her individual stamp on each of the items served at the reception, and as she circulated amongst the guests she had the pleasure of telling them that they could indeed enjoy some of the delicacies again, by staying at one of her husband’s hotels and ordering them off of the room service menu.

  The reception for their vow renewal was not nearly as drawn-out as the first one had been, and after a couple of hours, Zelda and Zayed left the hotel banquet hall, stopping at home just long enough to change out of their finery before getting into the limo to head to the airport at the opposite edge of the city.

  “I think we pulled that off rather well,” Zayed said as they settled into the plush seats, holding each other close.

  “It was definitely way less stressful than the first time,” Zelda admitted, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Zayed chuckled, his arm tightening slightly around her waist. “And this time, we’re going to have a real, true honeymoon,” he told her.

  Zelda smirked, glancing up at his face. “I didn’t hear you complaining about the first one,” she grinned.

  “I wasn’t complaining—but you have to admit that a month away, in a private villa in Hawaii, is a much better deal than a week spent under the watchful eyes of servants we don’t know.”

  Zelda nodded, accepting that counterpoint. “A month in Hawaii,” she said, wondering. She shook her head, smiling. She seemed to be smiling all the time these days.

  “You know, our vow renewal has created a trend,” Zayed told her. “Wealthy women all over Murindhi are insisting that if they do not get a vow renewal within three months of their wedding, they are barely married.”

  Zelda laughed out loud at that, shaking her head in disbelief. She kissed her husband lightly on the lips before settling against his side once more. “We did it right this time,” she said softly. “No matter what other people think, we know the truth, and we’re going to stay together, always.”

  Zayed gave her hand a squeeze; they were approaching the airport. Zayed had arranged for a private jet to take them on their long trek, and Zelda was more than ready to enjoy it, and everything else that came with her marriage to the Sheikh.

  “This time, yes,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple. “This marriage is for good.”

  Epilogue

  Zelda had been bubbling with excitement as Zayed’s yacht approached Miami, but with the shapes at the marina more and more visible, she found herself becoming nervous at the prospect of seeing her parents again.

  Zayed stood a few feet away, watching her, and Zelda forced herself to smile so that he would worry less. She looked out over the railing, her heart beating faster in her chest as the yacht moved closer and closer to the docks, searching for any sign of her mother and father.

  Her honeymoon—her real honeymoon—with Zayed had ended a few weeks before, and Zelda had decided then that she wanted to reconnect with her parents. The Sheikh had encouraged her all the way, delegating responsibilities at his hotels as quickly as he could in order to make a sail to Miami possible. “It’s sort of poetic in a way,” he’d told her the night before. “Taking the same route that brought us together, only in reverse.”

  “As long as you’re not entertaining any thought about reversing the outcome,” Zelda had told him.

  Zayed had chuckled, shaking his head. “Absolutely not; you’re doubly stuck with me now.”

  The Sheikh stepped closer to her at the railing, and Zelda relaxed a little as his arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her body lightly against his. “It’s going to be fine,” he murmured in her ear. “Your parents love you and always have, right?” Zelda nodded at that. “So they’re going to be overjoyed just to be in real contact with you again. Everything else will only make them happier.”

  Zelda smiled wryly. “Well, I’m not entirely sure how they’re going to react to the news of me being married, especially since it happened after we’d known each other only two weeks,” she pointed out. “My parents dated for years before they got married.”

  The yacht docked at the slip that the port authority assigned it, and Zelda looked out over the docks, searching again for her parents.

  “Why don’t we go down and find them out there?” Zayed gave her hand a squeeze and Zelda smiled at him; he knew that she would feel better and less nervous if she was involved in something, doing something.

  “Okay,” Zelda said.

  She took a quick, deep breath as Zayed led her by the hand away from the railing, down to the gangway, leading off of the vessel. They walked down together, and Zelda felt her heart beating faster and faster in her chest as she scanned the people coming and going across the docks. She had sent her parents an email two weeks before; they should have had enough time to make arrangements if they had wanted to meet with her.

  Sudde
nly she spotted them, looking around, uncertain. Her grip on Zayed’s hand tightened and she pointed out her mother and father to him before advancing on her own towards the couple she knew better than any other two people in the world.

  “Mom! Dad!” Zelda’s heart leaped into her throat as she approached them, and for a moment she thought to herself that her idea had been a terrible one; that she would have been better off waiting for a little while longer to get back in touch with them.

  “Sweetie! Oh goodness, we’ve been so worried,” her mother said, grabbing Zelda and hugging her tightly. “I know you’ve been telling us you’re okay, but we’ve heard nothing else.”

  “The situation’s kind of complicated,” Zelda said, wiping tears away from her eyes as she pulled back from her mother’s intense hug. She embraced her father and then turned to look at Zayed, before looking at them both. “Let’s get on the yacht and get underway, and then I can tell you everything.”

  “This is the yacht?” Her father gestured to Zayed’s ship, his face astonished.

  “Let me explain once we get up there,” Zelda said nervously.

  She guided her parents towards Zayed and took her husband’s hand as they approached the ramp. Zelda saw that her parents wanted to ask questions, but they waited as they followed her and Zayed up the ramp, onto the deck. Zayed gave her hand another reassuring squeeze and instructed one of the crew members to prepare to set sail again.

  Zelda had told her parents to pack for an overnight cruise, and she was happy to see that her parents had taken her at her word, small duffle bags—the kind of luggage they used for in-state conferences—slung over their shoulders. She guided her parents onto the main deck of the yacht and towards the bar, manned by the same tender who had been on duty during her trip to Murindhi.

  “Let’s get a quick drink in, and then I can explain everything,” Zelda said.

  She gave the bartender a look and he made her parents’ orders, two large glasses of sauvignon blanc, then took a deep breath as Zayed moved to her side once more, putting his hand discreetly on the small of her back.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?” Zelda’s mother gestured to the Sheikh.

  “This is Zayed—Sheikh Zayed El-Sharabi,” Zelda began nervously. “He’s…my husband.”

  “Your husband?” Zelda’s father repeated, aghast.

  Zelda showed them her hand, adorned with her engagement and wedding rings. “We’ve been married for a few months, now” she explained.

  “A—a few? A few months?” Her mother stared at her, jaw dropped. “But you’ve only been gone a few months.”

  Zelda smiled ruefully. “Legally, Zayed and I got married about a month after I left,” she said. She saw the two of them staring at Zayed, the beginnings of accusation in their eyes. “I did a foolish thing, and Zayed bailed me out,” she said quickly.

  “Bailed you out—as in jail?” Her father looked stricken.

  “Let me explain from the beginning, okay?” Zelda said, reaching under the table to hold Zayed’s hand tightly.

  “It’s probably going to be a rather long story,” Zayed breathed, giving Zelda’s parents a warm, open smile. “So before we get going, I want to make sure that you were both comfortable with our ultimate destination; I thought we would go to the Keys from here. It’s only a couple of hours away—but if you’re uncomfortable with the idea…”

  “No, no, that’ll be fine,” Zelda’s mother said quickly. She looked from Zayed to Zelda, her eyes full of intrigue. “I just think I need a refill before we get started. You, honey?” She looked to her husband.

  “Sounds good to me,” Zelda’s father replied, and Zayed rose from the table and walked back to the bar to get their drinks.

  “He seems polite and respectful,” her mother mused, when Zayed was out of earshot. “And he’s obviously a wealthy man. But Zelda, honey, is it really wise to marry someone you’ve only known for—what—a few weeks?”

  Zelda took a quick breath. “Let me tell you the whole story, and you can decide for yourselves if what I did was in my best interests,” she suggested.

  Zayed came back to the table with more drinks, and Zelda told her parents the story of how she and Zayed had come to be married: about stowing away on the very yacht they now sat on, taking the job in the kitchens by chance, about the immigration officials’ threats and Zayed’s intercession on her behalf. Zayed fleshed out the information about the deal they had struck, that he needed to be married and had been looking for a wife, and Zelda saw the doubt in her parents’ eyes at that fact.

  “At the time it was the best option in front of me,” Zelda told them. “And I was probably being impulsive when I agreed to it—but it was a consequence of my original idea to climb on board a ship in the marina without having any idea where it was going.”

  “And so you married this man,” her father said, looking Zayed up and down slowly.

  “There’s more to the story,” Zelda cautioned.

  “I would assume so, since you said that you married within about a month of leaving the house, and you’ve been away for more than four months now,” her mother noted, smiling.

  Zelda explained about her sudden crisis of conscience, about running out into the desert in the hopes of getting to the city, and her mother and father stared at her in shock when she told them how close she had come to dying before the Sheikh had come to her rescue. Zelda put an arm around Zayed as she continued with her story, telling them about his dedicated nursing, and his offer to send her home without her having to marry him.

  “So why didn’t you come home?” her mother asked, before glancing at Zayed. “I apologize if that’s insulting.”

  Zayed shook his head. “No,” he said, smiling. “I don’t blame you; I fully expected that she would take me up on that offer and be gone the next day.”

  “After Zayed showed that he genuinely cared about me, I realized I could do worse than to live up to my side of the deal,” Zelda began. “At that point, I didn’t really believe that there was anything between us—I thought that we were just strangers who were helping each other out, but maybe that there was a hint of…” she shrugged, “a hint of something between us after spending so much time together. So to honor my side of the deal I told him that I’d go through with the wedding, and then that we would part ways—me back to the US, Zayed in Murindhi, free to buy his competitor’s company.”

  “So what changed?”

  Zelda saw that her parents were starting to come around. She explained what had brought her to love and care so deeply about Zayed, and for his own part, the Sheikh explained how Zelda’s flight into the desert had given him all the evidence that he’d needed to know that he was truly in love with her.

  “I’m still not entirely certain that I understand how this all came about,” Zelda’s mother said, shaking her head slightly. “But I’m glad that you’re safe and happy.”

  “I would say that I wish that you hadn’t chosen such an impulsive route,” her father added, looking from Zelda to Zayed, “but you’re obviously very happy together.”

  Zelda smiled contentedly; she knew that it would take time, probably a great deal of it, for her parents to truly process the fantastic adventure that she had lived these past few months, but she felt happy knowing that they accepted her decision.

  Once the air had been truly cleared, Zelda and Zayed took her parents on a tour of the yacht, and Zelda introduced her parents to Babette in the kitchens, who laughed at the memory of how Zelda had come into her and the Sheikh’s life, and told her parents how readily Zelda had jumped into work in the galley.

  The initial awkwardness fading, Zelda filled her parents’ ears with small talk about her second honeymoon in Hawaii, and all of the things she had seen on the island chain as she and Zayed had jumped around from one place to another. She asked her parents about their classes, about their research projects, and had the pleasure of seeing Zayed’s fascination with her parents’ learning and knowl
edge, and his ability to converse with them on an intellectual level.

  The yacht made port at Islamorada, and Zelda and Zayed led their guests off of the vessel.

  “Normally I would simply invite you to dine on the ship with us,” Zayed told his parents-in-law. “Even before Zelda took her job in the galley, Babette and the rest of the crew were more than capable of making something exceptional.”

  “But we thought it might be better to stop off here, and have dinner somewhere we can sit at a table that isn’t rocking,” Zelda finished. She put a hand on her stomach briefly, and Zayed glanced at her in concern, but she quickly withdrew her hand, shaking her head to indicate she was okay.

  “I made reservations for us here,” Zayed said, gesturing to a restaurant attached to one of the hotels situated right on the beach. “I thought of all the options on the island, this one would be the best.”

  Zelda felt a flicker of anxiety work its way through her body at her husband’s words, but she didn’t let it show on her face as the group made their way to the front door of the restaurant.

  “Would you like a table inside or outside?” asked the blonde hostess. She was dressed in a crisp, white shirt and black pants; simple but elegant.

  “I think outside would be good,” Zelda said, and Zayed nodded his agreement.

  The hostess led them to the tables outside, which overlooked the beach, and Zelda once more fought down the surge of excitement and apprehension she felt; there was still a good deal more to talk about, and she hoped that the second round of conversation would be smoother than the first.

  They looked over their menus, and Zelda asked her parents to choose a wine to go with the meal, though she had little intention of partaking herself.

  “These selections all sound really interesting,” her mother commented, hesitating when the waiter arrived to take their order. “It’s so hard to choose.”

  “I recommend the lobster, fresh caught today,” the waiter suggested. “Along with the citrus-wasabi tuna with microgreens. Both are superb.”