The Sheikh's Tempted Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 13)

by Cara Albany

  "You don't really mean that, do you?"

  Becca gazed around the room. "Look at this place, Zaheer. I don't belong here. This is another world."

  Zaheer shook his head. "You're wrong. You do belong here. With me."

  Becca shook her head. "I thought this would work." She sighed and turned away from him. "I really thought there was a chance that all of this would feel right. That I would be able to do what I had to do. Not just for me, but for Abby."

  Becca shook her head. "Now, I'm not sure what to think."

  Becca saw Zaheer features, steady and thoughtful. The words had just come blurting out faster than she'd have liked. But, wasn't that really what she was thinking? Wasn't this just too much of a different world for her to even think about starting a new life? No matter what she felt for Zaheer. And she did have strong feelings about him. There was no doubt about that.

  Zaheer sighed. "You're right," he admitted.

  Becca felt a curious mixture of relief and disappointment.

  Zaheer took a step away from her and it was as if he was already miles away from her. Watching him move away from her made her feel as if there some part of her that was now missing.

  Zaheer ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I shouldn't even have thought about that," he said pointing toward the bedroom. "Not here."

  Becca nodded and folded her arms. "Wouldn't have been right," she agreed.

  Zaheer nodded and tried to smile, but she could see that it wouldn't come easily. He narrowed his eyes. "You have that effect on me, you know that, don't you," he stated with a grin. "You always will."

  Becca knew he was trying to defuse the situation in the only way he knew how. She lifted a shoulder. "I did notice," she said tilting her head and squinting at him. Zaheer moved back into the sitting room. Becca followed him.

  The pathetic attempt at humor was the only way she could manage the crushing disappointment she felt. Then she remembered what was to happen in a few hours. The family gathering. Nervousness twisted in her middle.

  Zaheer made his way to the door and opened it. "I better go," he said.

  Becca touched him on the arm. Zaheer looked down at her hand and she saw an appreciative smile on his lips.

  "What did you come to tell me?" she asked.

  Zaheer thought for a few moments and then shook his head. "Nothing that can't keep," he said.

  Becca narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not going to tell me?"

  Zaheer smiled and leaned across, kissing her on the cheek. "It can wait," he said softly. "I'll see you downstairs, later."

  Becca tried to read his expression, attempted to see what was behind those gorgeous, dark brown eyes. But he had closed the gate already. He was already putting up the old barrier again.

  And then he turned and left.

  Becca closed the door, leaned back against it and let out a huge sigh of frustration.

  What had just happened? Had she ended it all, just by telling him how she really felt?

  But she couldn't just give up like that. She made a promise to herself, and to Zaheer. Was she really going to quit without seeing everything to the end?

  There was only one thing left to do. Tonight, at the reception, she would have to make her final decision. One way or another.

  Maybe this would end up being her last night with Zaheer.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hours later, Zaheer stood in the garden, beneath a star-filled night sky. He gazed around at the large crowd of guests and wondered what was keeping Becca.

  He peered at the steps which led down from the terrace to the garden, desperate to see her beautiful, elegant figure.

  Still, there was no sign of her. He resisted the impulse to go into the palace and try to find her. Maybe she was determined to be the last to arrive at the garden reception. Zaheer smiled to himself. Perhaps she wanted to guarantee a grand entrance, noticed by everyone.

  He shook his head and sighed. No. It was probably more likely she was trying to delay things. Up in her room that afternoon, he'd sensed she really didn't want to attend this event which his father had hastily arranged.

  The night air was cool now that the sun had set, but Zaheer felt warm, even overdressed in his dark suit. The scents of the garden mingled with subtle hint of the distant desert. He gazed around recognizing just about everyone who was attending.

  Most of the guests had already arrived punctually at eight, over an hour ago, and the reception was in full swing. As of now, around one hundred people had turned up. More than expected. Zaheer guessed his father had made an extra effort to bring so many people out tonight. It was an important occasion for Abbas. And for Zaheer. For their family.

  A huge, white marquee had been erected on the lawn. Well-dressed men and women clustered in groups around it, champagne glasses in hand. There was laughter in the air. Traditional Qazhar music was being provided by a small group of players on a dais next to the marquee.

  For the moment, Zaheer stood on his own, beneath a small tree, hands thrust into the pockets of his jacket. He didn't want to be next to anyone. Not right now, at least. He didn't think he'd be good company. Not until she arrived. Not until he Becca was standing by his side.

  Zaheer could see his father and mother over by the marquee. They were chatting with his younger brother, Qazim and few other guests. Every once in a while, Qazim looked over toward Zaheer, perhaps seeking some kind of signal that he should come over to Zaheer.

  But Zaheer needed to be alone for a short while. He'd already mingled with most of the guests, welcoming them to the palace. It had been a while since the family had held a reception like this. Zaheer remembered how frequent such receptions had been in the past. Recently, though, there had been fewer of them.

  Now Zaheer understood why. He looked across at his father. Even from this distance Zaheer could tell that his father had been weakened by his condition. Abbas had explained it to Zaheer. His father's heart, for so many years like that of a desert lion, had finally succumbed to the years.

  For that reason, his father now felt it was the right time to hand over the reins of authority and control to Zaheer. Zaheer knew his father planned on making a very public announcement tonight. Everyone would know that Zaheer would be the true head of the family when it came to public matters.

  Was that the only announcement that would be made tonight? Even as he asked himself that, Zaheer knew the declaration he so desperately wanted to make.

  Tonight Becca would know that a place awaited her by Zaheer's side and that his entire family approved. Only if she agreed, though. And, after that conversation up in her room, Zaheer could hardly bring himself to consider failure.

  One way or another Zaheer's life was about to change.

  Zaheer was apprehensive just thinking about it. Now that Becca had told him they might not even have a future together, the new family responsibilities about to be thrust upon his shoulders seemed heavier. Even if his father had already given Zaheer his blessing to take Becca as a wife, would it really matter now that Becca seemed to be consumed by doubts about her future?

  If he didn't have Becca, did he even have a future worth looking forward to? She was all he wanted, everything he would ever need. She would make his life complete, enable Zaheer to stand proud and lead his family. Both of their families.

  Then he saw her.

  He watched as Becca emerged through the open doorway which led out onto the terrace overlooking the garden.

  Zaheer rushed forward, instinctively as if a coiled spring had been let loose. He weaved through the crowd of guests and halted at the foot of the wide marble steps.

  Becca was standing at the top of the steps, gazing out across the sea of faces. Zaheer could see the worry on her pretty features. He wanted to race up the stairs, offer her his arm and walk down with her by his side. But he hesitated. Somehow he knew he shouldn't do that. The expression on her face, as she looked down at him, told him that.

  But, she was beautiful!
r />   She was wearing a stunning, very elegant, pearl white gown. She had her blonde hair tied up in a neat bun which merely emphasized the perfect symmetry of her bone structure, her broad cheeks, the high brows, the tempting mouth.

  The gown was full length and had a neatly cut collar. The edges of the gown were embroidered with white pearls. As she stood there, the effect of the gown was to make Becca almost glow. The Zaheer realized his mother must have found the gown for Becca. It suited her perfectly.

  Others had noticed. Eyes were lifted, curious to know who was this new arrival.

  Becca started to walk slowly down the stairs, her hand lifting the edge of the gown up from her ankles as she made her way down each step.

  Zaheer saw a few guests watch as Becca finally reached the bottom stair. He felt pride surge into his chest. Those were looks of curiosity and admiration on the guests' faces. Quite right, too, he told himself. She was the most beautiful woman here tonight.

  Zaheer bowed to Becca. "Glad you could make it," he said lifting a brow.

  Becca smiled back at him and gazed around at the guests. "Quite a turnout," she observed.

  Zaheer nodded. "I think my father is pleased."

  Zaheer saw Becca searching for his father. He extended an arm to Becca and she curled her hand around it. Feeling her touch him made warm sensation pulse through his body. He smiled at her. She still looked nervous.

  Zaheer led Becca through the crowd of guests, occasionally pausing to introduce her to some of them. Each time he did so, Becca chatted pleasantly.

  It took some time to make their way through the gathered guests. It seemed as if everyone wanted to know who was the beautiful woman on Zaheer's arm. At one point, Zaheer had to admit to himself that it all felt as if he was introducing Becca to Qazhar society. Judging by the looks she was getting, most people approved. Or were at least respectfully curious toward the woman accompanying the sheikh.

  He thought of the way it used to be, in past years, when future sheikh brides were shown off to the elites. How stiff and formal people were in those days. These were different times, even if some traditions still had to be respected.

  As far as he was concerned Becca belonged here as much as anyone else. He was proud of the calm, measured way she conducted herself.

  On a couple of occasions, Becca paused, looking earnestly at Zaheer, as if she were about to say something. But, every time, one of the guests claimed his attention and Becca frowned slightly, visibly frustrated. At the back of his mind, Zaheer wondered what she had been about to tell him. But, he told himself, there would be time for discussion later, in private.

  Finally, they reached his parents, standing alone together in front of the marquee. Qazim had wandered off somewhere.

  Tahira smiled at Becca. "You look lovely, Becca. That outfit is beautiful on you," she said.

  Becca blushed and glanced down the length of the gown, tugging at it. "I think it fits, although it is a little tight in places."

  Tahira smiled. "Needs must," she said. She glanced up at Abbas. "Doesn't she look wonderful?" she asked her husband.

  Abbas smiled warmly at Becca and his eyes narrowed appreciatively. "Indeed she does," he said. Then he looked at Zaheer and nodded approvingly. Zaheer hoped his father wouldn't say anything that could be misunderstood, and thankfully his father contented himself with a mere look of agreement in Zaheer's direction.

  "Well, it looks as if we're all here," Tahira said.

  "Except for Qazim," Zaheer said. "Where has he gotten to?" he asked examining the crowd.

  Tahira peered through the crowd and then spotted Qazim. "There he is talking to the minister of finance."

  "Typical," Zaheer snorted. "Always thinking about business. Even on an evening like this," he said.

  Becca looked at Zaheer quizzically when he said those words, but she said nothing.

  "Let me go get him," Zaheer said quickly.

  "No, you wait here," Tahira said to Zaheer. And then she hurried off, weaving her way through the guests.

  For a few moments, there was an awkward silence between Zaheer, his father and Becca. Finally, Abbas broke it: "My son tells me you and he have become very good friends, Becca," he said.

  Zaheer froze and stared at his father. What was he saying? Did he have to be so abrupt, so obvious?

  Becca glanced at Zaheer. "Has he?" she replied.

  Abbas nodded. "Indeed he has. In fact, Zaheer has spoken of you in glowing terms." Abbas peered at Zaheer.

  "Is that right?" Becca said. Once more she looked straight at Zaheer. He didn't know whether she was pleased or horrified at this information. No doubt she'd be wondering just what Zaheer had told his father about Becca.

  Then his father said the last thing Zaheer would ever have expected him to say.

  Abbas leaned forward slightly and smiled at Becca. "And, I have to say, seeing you this evening, I completely understand what drove him to say such things about you," Abbas said.

  Becca's face flushed beneath the light make-up she was wearing.

  Becca peered incredulously at Zaheer, almost as if she was demanding he say something to lessen her embarrassment.

  "Father, all of this must be quite overwhelming for Becca," he said hesitantly, glancing around at the guests. "I think the last thing she needs is being showered with compliments."

  Abbas shook his head. "On the contrary. In the presence of true beauty, one must not hesitate to speak of it," he said grandly.

  Zaheer had never heard his father speak about any of his companions like this before. He could see that Becca was still feeling awkward about being the focus of attention.

  He fetched her a drink from one of the trays carried by a passing servant. Becca took a sip of the champagne and held the stem of the glass tightly.

  Becca smiled at Zaheer, but he could see she was trying to contain her emotions.

  Tahira returned with Qazim in following close behind.

  "Now that the whole family is here," Abbas said, "perhaps it is time for me to make my little announcement."

  That was an understatement, Zaheer told himself.

  "There is one person missing," Tahira said, glancing at Becca. "We have one son who apparently prefers the excitement of the desert life to the comforts of palace life," she added with a patient smile and a shake of her head.

  Qazim snorted. "Riaz will come home. Eventually."

  "It is a pity he could not be here," Zaheer's father said. "Nevertheless, he will be told of what I have chosen to do."

  He started to move toward the dais where he told the musicians to halt their playing.

  Zaheer saw Becca stare at him. Concern was written all over her features. Zaheer turned away from Becca and followed Qazim and Tahira to the platform. He looked to see if Becca had followed him, but she hadn't. She was rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on Zaheer.

  Zaheer stood alongside his mother, father and brother and heard Abbas call out to the guests for quiet.

  From the platform, Zaheer looked down at Becca. For a moment he thought about gesturing for her to come up to stand alongside him. But, one final look at her stern expression told him that wouldn't be a good idea.

  When he spoke, Abbas' voice was strong and echoed out across the garden. "Many of you will be asking why I have asked you to come here, this evening." Abbas turned to look at Zaheer. "Well, it is very simple really. As you all know, there are times in the life of a family when it becomes necessary for change."

  Zaheer glanced down at Becca. Her gaze was still steady and unmoving.

  "And this is such a time," Abbas continued. Zaheer saw his father scan the faces in front of him. "I see most of the great families of Qazhar present here tonight. And I thank you all for coming to this most important evening."

  Abbas turned to Zaheer. "The evening when I officially hand over the authority of managing my family's public affairs to my eldest son, Zaheer."

  There was sudden, excited chatter amongst the guests. Zaheer felt as if
every eye was set on him. But the only eyes that mattered to him were those of Becca, and hers were fixed firmly on him. She looked shocked.

  Abbas laid a hand on Zaheer's shoulders. "I have no doubt my son, Zaheer, is someone most of you already know. From now on, you will all get a chance to know his fine character, his trustworthiness," Abbas said. Zaheer saw his father look at him with sudden pride. "And his honor, as befits a sheikh of this noble Qazhar line."

  That last statement brought a visible tear to his father's eye. Zaheer smiled at Abbas. There had been genuine affection in those words.

  Zaheer knew his father would never have consented to doing this unless he really believed that Zaheer was worthy, that he had become a true man, able to take on the responsibility of leading a family in public life. It was the thing Zaheer had been made to do, even if he'd spent too many of his younger years trying to avoid taking on that responsibility.

  Now was the time to which destiny had led Zaheer. Now he was standing next to his father about to take on the mantle of power.

  And there, looking up at Zaheer was the only woman he had ever truly wanted. The only person with whom he really wanted to share this moment. He was glad she was here.

  Zaheer glanced down from the platform.

  Becca looked stunned.

  Abbas continued: "Ladies and gentleman, I give you the new head of the Al Shirah family," he announced.

  Zaheer saw his mother and brother smiling at him as the guests broke into spontaneous applause.

  Zaheer accepted the applause with as much grace as he could summon. Finally, the wait was over.

  The applause subsided. Abbas lifted a hand. "In addition to that, I have one more, very important announcement to make," he said. "The head of a family needs a wife by his side. The counsel of a wise woman is always necessary," Abbas said smiling at his wife who waved a dismissive, embarrassed hand at Abbas. "And my son is no exception."

  Zaheer stared at his father, feeling a rising tide of unease. What was Abbas doing? What was he about to say? Zaheer could feel the horror welling up inside him. Zaheer couldn't take his eyes of his father, as he watched him take a moment to consider his next words. Surely, his father wasn't about to ruin everything by making some kind of surprise public announcement.