His Bought Fiancée (Wedded to the Sheikh Book 1)

by Holly Rayner

  Chapter 10

  Ali

  Ali stood next to his sports car, watching the front of Alyssa’s building. His pulse was racing, and his palms were clammy.

  Was he…nervous? The thought made him chuckle. Alyssa brought out emotions that he hadn’t felt in years. He was an excited schoolboy all over again.

  This can’t be good.

  He ran his palm over his jaw and looked down. It had been years since he’d been so interested in a woman. In college, he’d thought he was in love with one girl. As time passed, he wondered if that had been the case, or if he’d merely been lost in youthful infatuation.

  All he knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Alyssa. He wanted to know everything about her, from what her life was like growing up to what her favorite books were.

  Was this a bad idea? She was his fake fiancée. Perhaps it would be better to not complicate things with romance, the practical side of his brain said.

  But Ali had never been good at playing by the rules. Though he’d gone to business school in England, his parents had expected him to return to Baqar after his graduation. Taking off for America had disappointed them greatly. Ali did his best to respect his parents, but in many ways, they were too traditional. He needed to be his own person, not a slave to customs.

  “Hello, stranger.”

  Ali looked up. Without his noticing, Alyssa had come out of the building. She stood in front of him wearing a dress with an orange-and-red floral pattern, a denim jacket, and tan sandals. Her long hair was swept up into a loose bun, wavy tendrils falling around her face and neck here and there. Her lips were painted a soft pink, and her thick, dark lashes swept her cheekbones as she blinked. Looking at her, Ali felt as if his breath was being squeezed from his lungs.

  “What’s wrong?” Alyssa asked. She looked down at her dress. “Is this not appropriate? I’m sorry, I didn’t know where we were going. I can go upstairs and—”

  “No,” Ali interrupted. “It is only that you look so beautiful. I apologize. I couldn’t help but stare.”

  “Oh.” Alyssa self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck. “Thank you. You look nice, too. Then again, you always do. I like the, uh, dress shirt.” She laughed and shook her head.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s just funny that this is the most dressed-down I’ve ever seen you.” She gestured at his dark jeans and white button-up.

  “I see.” Ali smiled.

  “Do you own any T-shirts?”

  “A few.” He extended his arm. “Shall we?”

  Once Alyssa was settled in the passenger’s seat, Ali hopped behind the wheel.

  “I can put the top up,” he said, looking at her hair.

  “Oh, no. That’s okay.” Alyssa delicately patted her bun. “I’m prepared. I have, like, a hundred pins in.”

  Taking off, Ali guided the car down Broadway.

  “Where are we off to tonight?” Alyssa asked as they idled at a red light. “Dinner with the president?”

  “Is that what you want?” Ali grinned at her.

  Alyssa gave him a cheeky look. “Something tells me you could make that happen.”

  The light turned green. No time to answer. Giving Alyssa a wink, Ali hit the gas, and the roar of wind surrounded them.

  At the edge of Tribeca, Ali parked in front of a little pub. Helping Alyssa out of the car, he tossed the keys to the waiting busboy. Alyssa watched the young man drive off, then looked at the green-and-gold pub sign.

  “This place has a valet?” she asked.

  “Uh, well…” Ali gave a half-nod, half-shrug, not wanting to answer.

  “Ah. I get it. They valet for you. I assume you called ahead of time to tell them you were coming.” She raised her eyebrows, but she also smiled. “I don’t even want to know how much you pay for that.”

  “Fine by me.” Opening the door to the pub, Ali waited for Alyssa to go through.

  Jasmine, the manager, was behind the bar, her pink hair in braids. Her hands were busy pouring a draft, so she smiled at Ali and then nodded at the window table behind him.

  “How is this?” Ali asked, gesturing at the table.

  “Sure.” Alyssa slid into the wooden booth, and Ali took the spot across from her.

  All around them, people chatted over pints and wings. At the very back of the pub, a baseball game played on the television mounted in the corner. Ali turned back from taking the scene in to find Alyssa staring at him.

  “Okay,” she laughed, “What’s going on here?”

  Ali lifted his palms. “What do you mean?”

  “This place…it doesn’t exactly scream ‘Sheikh of Baqar’.”

  “Does everything about me scream ‘Sheikh of Baqar’?”

  Alyssa’s gaze traveled up and down his torso, and Ali’s skin heated up.

  “No,” she decided. “But I thought you were…well. I thought you were, like, super fancy all the time.”

  Ali chuckled. “Super fancy. No one has ever called me that.”

  Alyssa buried her pink cheeks in her hands. “Forget I said that.”

  “No.” Ali laughed harder. “I liked it.”

  “You’re a normal person, too. I get that. I’m just not…uh…”

  “What?” Ali asked, scooting along the round bench to get closer to her.

  Alyssa tilted her chin up, and her floral perfume kissed his nose. “I guess I’m still a little in shock over—you know—all of this.”

  Which part? Their meeting? The fake engagement?

  Before Ali could ask, Ross, one of the servers, showed up with laminated food menus.

  “Hey, Ali, how we doin’?” he asked. “We got that pilsner you like back.”

  “I’ll have that, thanks,” Ali said. “Alyssa?”

  “Sure,” she said. “That sounds good.”

  “Who’s your friend?” Ross asked, offering Alyssa his hand.

  “This is Alyssa,” Ali said. “Alyssa, meet Ross.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Alyssa said, shaking his hand.

  “Ali’s one of our regulars here,” Ross said. “I’ve never seen him come in with a girl, though.”

  Ali cleared his throat, feeling much more put on the spot than he typically liked.

  “Oh, really?” Alyssa’s gaze slid to Ali. “How interesting.”

  “So, where’d you two meet?” Ross asked.

  “I walked up to Ali on the street and asked him on a date,” Alyssa said.

  Ross laughed and clapped his hands together in amusement. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding,” Alyssa said with a smile.

  Ross looked at Ali. “That true?”

  Ali nodded. As there seemed to be no way of ending the conversation, he realized he might as well enjoy it. “And who was I to turn her down?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. You two look real nice together. Real nice. I’ll be right back with your beer.”

  Ross left with a satisfied nod, and Ali looked back to Alyssa. Instead of reading her menu, she was giving Ali a penetrating gaze.

  “How long have you been coming here for?” she asked.

  “A few years.”

  “And do they—” Alyssa glanced toward the bar, then dropped her voice. “Do they know who you are?”

  “They know I’m a sheikh, yeah. It’s not something I advertise, but people usually find out sooner rather than later.”

  “Hm.” Alyssa fiddled with the corner of her menu, looking thoughtful. “You didn't introduce me to him as your fiancée,” she said.

  Ali blinked. For a minute, he’d forgotten all about that ruse. “No, I didn’t.”

  “And…” Alyssa looked away and took a breath. “Why is that?”

  “Um, well…” Ali struggled to understand why she’d brought the topic up.

  “I just thought that you would want to keep the facade up,” Alyssa said. “You know, just in case anyone should ask.”

  “I don’t think that it’s necessary,” Ali said. “Thi
s pub is where I come to relax. It’s an escape from the rest of my life.”

  “And why did you bring me here?” Alyssa asked, her voice soft.

  Ali’s breath hitched in his chest, and he closed the bit of space that was left between them. “Maybe you are also an escape.”

  Alyssa searched his face. What was she thinking? There always seemed to be so much going on in her head. Ali could nearly see the thoughts running a thousand miles per hour behind those hazel irises.

  “This place is one of my favorites in New York,” Ali explained. “A place where I can come and be myself.” He paused. “Within certain parameters.”

  “Parameters?” Alyssa asked, her sweet breath washing over his face.

  “They know who I am here,” he said. “I tried to keep my heritage a secret for as long as possible, but sooner or later, everyone finds out about it.”

  “I’m sorry; that sounds like it might suck. You never get to go truly incognito, do you?”

  “It’s hard.” Ali lifted a shoulder. “But, it is what it is. I know I am fortunate.”

  Alyssa gently sighed. “I don’t know if I would have the same opinion if I was in your shoes. You seem to deal with it really well, though.”

  Ali smirked. “Don’t put me on a pedestal just yet. I am quite the disappointment to my parents.”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t gonna put you on any pedestal.” Alyssa grinned wickedly.

  “You two ready to order?” It was Ross, back again, this time with their beers. He set them down on two coasters on the table.

  “I haven’t even looked at the menu,” Alyssa told him. “Sorry. I’ll take whatever Ali is having.” She looked at him. “You don’t have any weird food preferences I need to know about, do you?”

  “Like what?” Ali asked.

  “I dunno. Ketchup on mashed potatoes. Hamburgers as raw as you can get them.”

  “That first one don’t sound too bad,” Ross said. “A potato is a potato, whether you fry it or mash it.”

  Ali laughed. “I don’t like either of those things. I take my hamburgers medium well. Speaking of which, they have great ones here.”

  “Then I’ll have that,” Alyssa said.

  “Same here,” Ali told Ross.

  Alone once more, Ali looked back at Alyssa. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”

  Her eyes softened, and Ali’s lips burned with the need to kiss her. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about such a public display of affection, though, so he settled with running his palm over her shoulder and down her bare arm. As his fingertips grew closer to her wrist, the tiny hairs on her forearm rose. Ali skimmed the top of her hand, his light touch grazing across her fingers.

  Alyssa’s pupils widened, and Ali was painfully aware of his rising temperature. How could it be that even touching her the slightest bit had him feeling wild and lightheaded?

  “I’m, um…” Alyssa licked her pink lips, “…glad to be here.”

  “You all right?” Ali chuckled.

  “Yeah…” She cleared her throat and wiggled a bit on the bench. “Just a little distracted.”

  “You and me both.”

  Alyssa stopped wiggling, her face taking on a serious look. “You know, Ali, I’m really honored that you brought me here.”

  Ali smiled, not knowing what to say, for he feared the truth would be too much too soon. He’d brought Alyssa to his favorite hideaway because he wanted a more intimate evening with her. Usually, he took his dates to whatever flashy restaurant or bar was all over the food blogs and magazines at the moment. In those places, people knew who he was, and everything was orderly. There was a certain comfort about it, because Ali could go to one of those places and know what would happen.

  But with Alyssa, he didn’t want things to be the same. He wanted their time together to be a unique experience.

  Because he saw her in a way he hadn’t wanted to admit at first. He saw her as something more than a weekend fling or a girlfriend to take on a vacation or two. She had a sensitive nature that made him want to protect her. When had he ever felt that way about a woman?

  Ali reached for his beer, hoping the cool drink would calm the heat in his body. He didn’t even remember Ross dropping the drinks off. He must have been too busy staring at Alyssa.

  “I wanted to get to know you in a more private setting,” he said, “so thank you for coming.” Ali raised the pint glass in a salute. Alyssa raised hers, and they knocked the glasses together.

  Ali took a long swig of his beer. He wanted to say more to Alyssa—to tell her about the things she was making him feel—but for the time being, he would keep all of that to himself.

  Chapter 11

  Alyssa

  Music drifted out of a bar, cars honked down the block, and college-aged kids laughed in a circle at the edge of a postage-stamp sized park. On the sidewalk, Alyssa strolled arm in arm with Ali.

  A stylishly dressed woman, who looked to be in her thirties, walked past them, gazing appreciatively at Ali before shooting Alyssa a jealous look. Alyssa smiled to herself. Did everyone think Ali was her boyfriend?

  What would that be like, to date him for real? Alyssa wasn’t naive. She knew every night wouldn’t be romantic outings filled with an endless stream of back and forth compliments. It would have its rough times and its boring times. And maybe really hard times, as well.

  It had been so long since Alyssa had had a serious boyfriend, and she was ready for something like that again. With her last relationship, the attraction had steadily decreased as time went on. Looking at Ali, she couldn’t imagine it being that way. Any woman who was into men and not attracted to Ali had to be out of her mind.

  “Can I ask you a question about your work?” Alyssa asked. Through dinner, they’d talked mostly about their childhoods. They were both an only child, which gave them something big to bond over.

  “Of course,” Ali said.

  “What is your regular workday like?”

  Ali had told her that he looked after his family’s business assets in the United States, and she didn’t think a vaguer job description had ever existed. It sounded like something a Mafioso might say.

  “Hmm…let’s see,” Ali crooned in that deep, smooth voice. “I usually make a few calls. Check my email. See how everything is running.”

  “Everything, what? What kind of business is your family in? And does it have anything to do with their royal life?” Alyssa hurried to add the last part. “And stop me if I’m getting too personal.”

  “It’s work. It’s not personal.”

  “Okay, good,” she said in relief.

  At the street corner, Ali stopped them, even though all the other pedestrians were rushing ahead. He took his time checking for turning traffic before guiding Alyssa across the street.

  “My father has his hand in several industries,” Ali explained. “Energy and technology among them. Here, we own a hospitality company that comprises several businesses.”

  “What kind of businesses?” Alyssa asked.

  “Restaurants, mostly. Do you know the Red Peony?”

  “I’ve heard of it,” Alyssa said. When Lucy’s birthday had come around the year before, the two of them had wanted to treat themselves to a meal there, but the waiting list had been ridiculous.

  “That’s one of them.”

  “Oh. That’s cool.”

  “I suppose,” Ali said.

  “You don’t like it?” Alyssa asked.

  “It’s not a passion of mine. But I do my duty and perform to my father’s expectations. At least I have not failed him in a business sense.” Ali smiled, but there was something sad in his expression.

  “Parental expectations are a bitch,” Alyssa muttered.

  She pressed her lips together, thinking she might have been too vulgar for Ali’s taste, but he threw his head back with laughter.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “They are. Here is the bakery.”

  He stopped walking, and Alyssa noticed the delic
ious smell of cookies filling the air. Before they’d even finished their hamburgers at the pub, Ali had suggested dessert at his “preferred bakery,” as he’d so formally put it, and Alyssa had agreed right away.

  Alyssa paused on the sidewalk next to the bakery’s green metal chairs and tables. “One more question.”

  “Certainly.”

  Ali had dropped her arm to reach for the door, but now he put his hands at his sides and turned to face her. That’s the way he was in their conversations—while everyone else scrolled through their phones or looked over their shoulders, when Alyssa spoke, Ali gave her his full attention. It made her give extra thought to her words, made her not want to waste his time by saying the wrong thing.

  “Your family isn’t, like—Okay, this will sound weird, but your family isn’t in Baqar’s version of the mafia, is it? I’m asking because it sounds like you guys have your thumb in every pie out there.”

  She was joking, but Ali didn’t so much as crack a smile.

  “What did you hear?” he asked, his voice sharp.

  Alyssa’s stomach dropped. Oh my God. He’s in a Middle Eastern mob!?

  Then, suddenly, Ali was smiling. “Kidding. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my family isn’t that interesting.”

  Alyssa blinked, relief washing over her. “I was only joking.”

  “Really?” Ali narrowed his eyes. “Because you seemed quite shaken.”

  Scoffing, Alyssa went for the bakery’s door. “What? Yeah. As if.”

  Ali chuckled. “Sure thing, Alyssa.”

  A pleasurable shiver went through her at hearing her name on his lips, and she him a playful look over her shoulder.

  “Hey, but how do you know I’m not in the mob?”

  “Now that would make for a very interesting twist, indeed.”

  They sidled up to the long case full of cupcakes iced in every color of the rainbow and cookies as big as Alyssa’s face.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “Yum.”

  “Do you have a sweet tooth?” Ali asked, his exhale hitting the back of her neck. Again, Alyssa shivered in delight.