The Sheikh And The Cowgirl

by Holly Rayner

  Rising from bed, Steph padded to the door and opened it to find her mother sitting with a couple other women, deep in conversation. When she stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to her.

  “And this must be the lucky lady!” one of them said, rising, with sparkles in her eyes.

  Both women stood as Steph walked in. They looked elated, as though their own daughter were getting married to a rich and handsome man. One of them approached her and grasped her hand affectionately. Her hair was very curly, and it stood out from her head at least half a foot.

  “We’re your wedding planners from the El Farah side of the family. I’m your mother’s cousin, Anouk, and this is my daughter, Shivika. We’re here to make sure everything is all set for the big moment!”

  Shivika stepped forward and grasped Steph’s other hand. Steph blinked at them both, not knowing what to say. After a pause, they both burst into laughter.

  “Isn’t it funny how scared they always look, Elora? My dear girl, I assure you, your mother has chosen well. I have personally met the man you are about to marry, and he is perfectly lovely.”

  Steph perked up at that piece of information. Perhaps if her parents weren’t willing to tell her about her fiancé, then these new cousins of hers would.

  “Do tell me more! What does he look like? What does he do for a living?”

  Anouk wagged her finger at Steph, releasing her grip and rejoining Elora on the sofa. Shivika followed suit, gesturing for Steph to sit across from them.

  “Ah-ah, we will not be the ones to give anything away. We would be breaking with centuries of custom if we did that, my dear. Now, come join us and we can talk about how we’re going to fix your hair for the ceremony, yes?”

  Steph listened with limited attention as her cousins went on and on about hairstyles that would go perfectly with the tiara her mother had given her. She gazed out at the desert and the sea, wishing she were sitting on the shore rather than listening to new family members drone on about twisting her hair one way or another.

  “Steph, are you paying attention? This is important.”

  Her mother’s voice made her jump, and she brought her attention back to the room.

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’m just…excited.”

  While she thought she was unconvincing, Shivika and Anouk accepted her apology and quickly pressed on before they were suddenly at her side and shoving her back into her bedroom.

  “You’ll want to get a good shower in, and make sure you give your hair a thorough wash. It looks a little greasy this morning.”

  “But—” Steph began to protest, but to no avail. Shivika pushed her all the way into the bathroom before she was able tell the woman she was perfectly capable of taking it from there.

  “I’m sure you are on a regular day, but I can see you are distracted by your excitement. If we have to wash your hair for you, we’ll do it!”

  “I think I can manage,” Steph grumbled, shutting the door behind her and staring at her resigned reflection in the mirror.

  She was doing this to make her parents happy. They had been good to her all her life, and they only wanted what was best for her. Sometime in the night she had finally come to terms with the fact that this wedding would take place and she would be married by the day’s end.

  Stepping into the shower, Steph took her time soaping up and washing her hair, standing under the heat of the water for far longer than was necessary. Finally, her mother knocked on the door.

  “Steph, we don’t have all day. We need to start drying your hair now if we want it to be manageable in time.”

  Steph thought about her cousin’s bushy hairdo and wondered just what they meant by “manageable.”

  “I’m coming,” she called, turning off the water.

  She wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out of the bathroom, and then she was bombarded by her cousins once again.

  “About time. Who takes showers that long? No matter; let’s get you glamorous!”

  Steph was seated on the living room sofa, where a makeshift beauty studio had been set up. Shivika came up behind her and began making quick work of her hair with a blow-dryer and a curling iron. With no mirror to see what she looked like, Steph had no choice but to hope they would make her look somewhat decent—yet another decision taken out of her hands. She felt like a rag doll, a child’s plaything.

  Shivika tugged and pulled at her hair, finally crowning it with the tiara.

  “All right, time to get you in your dress,” Anouk said, helping Steph rise and allowing her mother to escort her to her room. Then they pulled her blue and white wedding gown from her suitcase and opened it up, laying it on the bed.

  “This is so similar to what I wore,” her mother said, staring at the garment.

  Steph couldn’t think of anything to say. The dress you wore when you were unhappy? The dress you wore when you were the most scared and miserable in your entire life, just like I feel now?

  Best not to say anything, she decided.

  Her mother helped her step into her gown, buttoning it up from the back as it cascaded down her lean body. Steph thought about Vermont in that moment and her humdrum little life there. She was about to start a whole new adventure, and there was a tiny part of her that felt excited about that even as her insides roiled with trepidation.

  Her mother grasped her by the shoulders and walked her over to a floor-length mirror, finally letting her get a glimpse of herself.

  She looked beautiful. Steph felt a sense of relief upon seeing that her hair was not big and poufy but rather tightly coiled into perfect curls that were pinned along the back of her head. The tiara glittered in the sunlight that sprinkled in through the window, and her gown shimmered as the blue twirls melted perfectly into the white of the dress. Her train was very short, and she reached back for it, holding it as she gave a small twirl to see herself from all angles.

  Her mother smiled. “See,” she said. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

  Steph took one last look at her reflection in the mirror as her mother headed toward the door.

  “It’s time to get going, Stephanie. The limo will be outside in a few minutes.”

  “Just a moment, please,” she said, her eyes entreating.

  Her mother nodded understandingly and closed the door behind her, giving her daughter some time to come to terms with what was about to happen. That wasn’t why Steph had asked for privacy, though. Turning, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small sewing kit, threading a needle with silky white thread. On the side of her dress, she stitched up a portion of it to create a small bustle that swept the fabric up in a more flattering way.

  Bending down, she bit the thread off and finished the stitch before taking one more look at herself.

  “That’s better,” she said, taking a deep breath as she met her own gaze in the mirror.

  She could do this. She had to find the strength to get through the ceremony. There could be something wonderful on the other side, right?

  Steph pulled open her door. In the living room, her cousins, mother, and father were all standing there, watching her with a combination of pride, sadness, and joy. Her father looked a little gray, she noticed, but when she approached he lifted her hand and kissed it.

  “You make a beautiful bride, Steph. We look forward to celebrating with you after the ceremony. I’m sorry I won’t be able to walk you down the aisle though.”

  He cast a sideways glance at his wife, who ignored his comment and pressed a hand to Steph’s back to usher her from the room. They rode the elevator down in heavy silence, the ding when they hit the lobby floor the only sound they heard. Steph glanced around her, noticing the stares she elicited as they walked as a unit to the front of the hotel. A few people congratulated her, and she offered them a weak smile.

  When they stepped out into the desert air, which had precipitously heated up from the night before, Steph saw a long black limo at the curb. The driver was standing in fro
nt of the car, but when he saw her, he stood at attention and opened the door for her.

  Steph turned back to her parents, gripping each of their hands.

  “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?” she asked.

  Her father looked a little doubtful, but her mother chimed in immediately.

  “Of course it is. It may seem scary now, but you’ll be grateful when you’re living a comfortable life later. Try to enjoy yourself a little, Stephanie. I regret that I did not at least try.” She didn’t look at Jerry as she said this, though he looked at her in surprise.

  Not wanting to be a part of that conversation, Steph turned and thanked the driver before sliding into the seat. He said something in El Farahn, which she had to assume was something akin to “you’re welcome.”

  The driver closed the door behind her, and as she drove away, she saw her parents arguing about something. If they were discussing the possibility of her not having an arranged marriage, it was a bit too late for that, as the limo sped off down long city streets.

  Steph gazed out the window, wondering what Mehdi was up to at that moment. Then she forced herself not to think about him, since it seemed inappropriate to daydream about one man while on the way to marry another. There was a small snack bar in the center of the car, but Steph had been far too nervous to eat anything all day. She could tell she was hungry, but the thought of food made her want to retch.

  The limo continued out of the city and onto a road carved between a stretch of long, mountainous desert. Steph wished she had thought to bring her purse so she could check the time, but she had been instructed to leave her belongings at the hotel, as she would be escorted back there after the private ceremony. She had nothing to distract herself with and nothing to tell her the time; she was lost in a vortex of nothingness as the limo continued on and on.

  After the fifth dune, Steph began to feel nervous. This didn’t seem right, for some reason, and the driver didn’t seem to know any English. How would she find a way to ask him if they were going in the right direction? If it were possible, Steph’s stomach would have turned into one big actual knot after the day’s events. She sat wringing her fingers together as they drove on for what seemed like eternity.

  Suddenly, a building came into view up ahead. Leaning close to the window, Steph did her best to make it out.

  It was a palace! She was getting married in a palace? How was that possible?

  Steph remembered her parents’ description of her future husband. They had said he was rich, but this was clearly something else entirely. This was royalty. While it looked different from what she was used to, Steph knew a palace when she saw one. The structure was a clear, magnificent white, but the rounded tops were capped with solid gold. Even from a distance, Steph knew that gold was real.

  Somehow, she managed to become even more nervous than before. As the car pulled up the long, curving drive to the front of the palace, Steph’s eyes were glued to the window as she took in everything. Finally, they landed on a man, who was leaning nonchalantly in front of the ornate structure.

  Steph gasped.

  There, looking as casual as ever, stood Mehdi. He watched her with a hand over his eyes as he stood in the shade, as though he were looking for her. Was it possible? Could her life really be that wonderful?

  The limo pulled to a stop, and Steph waited with butterflies in her stomach as the driver came around and opened the door, helping her step out. She kept her gaze on Mehdi, who pushed himself off the wall and approached her with a grin on his face.

  “You make a beautiful bride. That much is true,” he said. He stood close to her as he gazed down into her eyes. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, in fact.”

  “Are you… Are you…” Steph stammered, unable to get the question out.

  Here, in front of this palace, Mehdi seemed so much more than he had the night before, if that were even possible. He was tall and handsome and a little imposing, and she couldn’t find the words to ask if he would become her husband.

  “The Sheikh of El Farah? Yes, I am,” he said. “I must escort you from this hot sun though. No need to have a bride melting on her wedding day.”

  “You’re the Sheikh?” Steph asked, incredulous.

  That wasn’t the answer she had been looking for, but she was so taken aback that she forgot that for a moment.

  Mehdi nodded. “I am. It was so nice to meet you last night, and after our conversation I thought you might want rescuing one more time.”

  They stepped into the shade, and Steph felt instant relief from the glaring heat of the El Farahn sun. She gazed up at Mehdi, finding her words.

  “Are you my fiancé?” she asked.

  Mehdi met her gaze and laughed. “Oh, I can see where you’d be confused. No, I am not. However, I do know what it’s like to have choice taken away from you, and I didn’t want you to have to suffer the same fate. I’m giving you a choice now, Steph. You can go back to the limo and I will have my driver take you to your original destination with no questions asked, or you can stay a while with me and enjoy breaking the rules a little bit.”

  Steph’s brain struggled to catch up with what was happening. Mehdi had sent a decoy limo to rescue her from an arranged marriage, and he was now offering her asylum until she was ready to face the consequences of that action.

  She stopped in the main foyer, closing her eyes. “Wait. Hold on a minute. I just need to process this.”

  She opened her eyes and looked back up at Mehdi, who was staring down at her patiently. She pointed at him.

  “You’re like…the king of El Farah,” she said.

  “That’s right,” Mehdi said with a nod.

  She waved her hands around the room at large, which, she noticed, was extremely large and glittering with gold designs.

  “And this is your home,” she said.

  “That is correct.”

  “And you aren’t supposed to be marrying me today,” she said, and he shook his head.

  “Unfortunately not,” he said, and Steph noticed a small pang of disappointment in his voice.

  She stared at him for a moment as it all came together. Then she burst into a wide smile.

  “You are insane,” she said, and Mehdi laughed.

  “Probably, but here we are. So what do you choose, Steph?”

  “What do I choose? You just kidnapped me from my own wedding!”

  She was torn between feeling indignant and feeling relieved. Mehdi looked completely unrepentant, the paragon of confidence.

  “It’s as I said. I think you deserve to choose, and I took action accordingly. If I have acted out of place I will apologize, but I think there is a part of you that is glad you’re not in the middle of a wedding ceremony right now.”

  “And you are used to doing as you please, given your status? Is that it?”

  Mehdi frowned. “Yesterday I told you that I lived in my own gilded cage, always meant to behave in a certain manner. Do you now hold me to that standard, now that you know who I am?”

  Steph thought back to the aquarium, when that worker had been so quick to give Mehdi whatever he wanted. That all made perfect sense now. She felt a stab of guilt at his words.

  “You’re right. I’m already making assumptions about you, and that’s wrong. But you made assumptions about me, too, when you assumed I would be perfectly fine being kidnapped.”

  “And are you?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

  She could have fallen into his arms and kissed him then and there, but instead she stepped back and crossed her arms, mostly to keep them for wrapping around him without her permission.

  “Maybe,” she said, and Mehdi smiled.

  “Aha! There’s the truth now. Worry not, fair maiden, for you will not be another man’s bride this day,” he said, his tone playful.

  Steph glanced down at her elaborate dress. Compared to Mehdi’s casual outfit, she definitely felt silly, even if her surroundings were appropriate for a ceremony of some kind.


  “It does feel strange, to be in this gown with nothing to show for it.”

  “Perhaps you would like a change of clothing?” he said.

  “You keep women’s clothing on hand for just an occasion such as this?” she asked with a skeptical brow.

  Mehdi laughed. “Steph, it’s the palace of El Farah. I’m not the only person who’s lived here. My parents had many dignitaries visit, and they housed many people for a variety of reasons. It is always pertinent to have spare clothing around. At the palace, anything can happen, and it has.”