The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

by Rayner, Holly

  “It is no trouble at all, Your—”

  Mehdi shook his head firmly, glancing pointedly at Steph, who was oblivious.

  “Sir,” the man corrected. “You’re welcome back any time, of course.”

  Steph’s stomach was in knots as they stepped back out into the night. She was too scared to look at her phone to check the time, lest she see a slew of angry text messages from her parents.

  “What time is it?” she asked as Mehdi stepped out, joining her.

  He looked at an expensive-looking watch on his left wrist. “Close to midnight.”

  Steph swallowed. Still, she had come this far, and it was likely her parents had seen her note and opted to go to bed, knowing she was capable of taking care of herself. Did they know she could take care of herself? Thinking of where she had been before Mehdi arrived, the truth was she was in quite a bit of trouble.

  “Why don’t you head back to your hotel? It might take your mind off the anxiety,” Mehdi suggested.

  Steph nodded, falling into step with him as he headed in a direction she wouldn’t have chosen. She really was completely and utterly lost in El Farah. She had so much to learn.

  “So, being from here, what do you really think about arranged marriages? Do you think I’m being crazy?”

  Having the chance to speak plainly with someone about her predicament was too good an opportunity to pass up, and Steph decided to make the most of it with Mehdi. The fact that there was an obvious spark of attraction between them was a moot point, but at least she had a momentary friend to confide in.

  Mehdi ruminated on his answer for a moment.

  “I don’t think you’re being crazy. It’s perfectly rational to be afraid of the unknown. It’s your body’s response to the possibility of danger, and it’s trying to protect you. I’m not the biggest fan of arranged marriages, if I’m being totally honest.”

  “The chances of us meeting again are fairly slim, Mehdi. You can be nothing if not honest with me on our first and last walk together.”

  Mehdi’s eyebrows shot up at her blunt honesty. “You really don’t think we’ll ever see one another again?”

  Steph shrugged. “I’m going to be getting married tomorrow, and I can’t imagine my future husband would be thrilled to meet the man who took me on a midnight adventure the evening before our wedding.”

  “No, I suppose he wouldn’t be,” Mehdi agreed. “In that case, I find myself more of a progressive on a lot of issues facing our country. I have spent some time in the West, and I think they are doing many things right—by women, by minorities, with education. I would like to see more of that here. Arranged marriages aren’t really a thing out there, as you’ve said, so I think it’s fair to say that I’m not really supportive of that method of dating.”

  Steph smirked. “Method of dating? That’s one way to describe it.”

  “And how would you? That’s all arranged marriage is, isn’t it? A way for two people to meet and start a life together? The only difference is the dating happens in conjunction with the marriage.”

  “That’s a pretty big difference,” Steph said, though she wasn’t entirely certain of her own conviction on that point.

  “Perhaps,” Mehdi said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t do something like, say, outlaw the practice, but it certainly wasn’t for me.”

  “Wasn’t for you?” Steph said, and Mehdi hesitated before he laughed.

  “I misspoke. I mean it wouldn’t be for me, were that to ever happen.”

  Something in his tone made Steph feel like he was hiding something, but she let it drop. She could detect many secrets under Mehdi’s top layer, but she hardly had the time to delve into them.

  As they walked, a food cart came up on their left, and Steph’s stomach began to rumble.

  “Are you hungry?” Mehdi asked.

  “I haven’t,” Steph admitted.

  Not missing a beat, Mehdi walked over to the cart and greeted the man, who watched him with wide eyes as he placed an order for two kebabs of meat and vegetables. He handed the man a wad of bills before thanking him and turning back to Steph, holding out a stick to her.

  “Try this. You’re going to love it.”

  Steph took the stick between two fingers, eyeing the meat with suspicion.

  “Travel magazines advise against eating food from a cart, as it’s likely not properly prepared.”

  Mehdi rolled his eyes. “Why would you ever listen to that? This is where the best food comes from,” he said, holding his stick up for emphasis.

  “What kind of meat is it?” Steph asked, eyeing the kebab a little more closely. It looked no different than a beef stick she would have gotten at home, with some grilled vegetables mixed in. Still, she cast a curious glance at Mehdi, waiting for his answer.

  “Who cares what kind of meat it is? You’re about to get married tomorrow. Why don’t you try to live a little first?”

  Steph narrowed her eyes at him, keeping her gaze steadily on his as she brought the stick to her lips and took a hearty bite of meat. It was perfectly flavored with a spice she had never tasted before. Her eyes opened wide, and she grinned.

  “This is delicious!” she said.

  Mehdi smiled back at her, taking a bite himself as they continued walking.

  “Sometimes a little risk pays off. Hey, that could apply to your whole wedding situation too, right? Maybe what you don’t know could end up being the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted.”

  Steph rolled her eyes. “That metaphor is incomplete. My fiancé is not food.”

  Mehdi wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I think it makes perfect sense.”

  She swatted his arm gently, liking the feel of the defined muscle underneath her hand. If only, if only.

  “Shut up. Anyway, I get your point. Maybe the unknown isn’t always a bad thing, right?”

  “Right,” he said, finishing off his kebab. “Besides, what have you got to lose? It could be the greatest day of your life. Or it could be a complete train wreck. You won’t know until you walk the path, right?”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” Steph said, losing her appetite as she considered just how close she was to being married.

  Mehdi stopped walking, and when Steph looked up she realized they had made it to her hotel. She dangled her empty stick by her side as she glanced at Mehdi, who was staring at her.

  “You have such unique features,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?” Steph asked.

  She was standing so close to him, she could have stood on her toes and kissed him then and there.

  Then again, that wouldn’t exactly have been the best idea, now would it? The look in his eyes hinted that he was perhaps considering the same, though Steph hardly dared to dream of what that would be like.

  “Your eyes are a startling blue given your skin tone. It makes them stand out far more than they would were you paler.”

  “You can thank my mother for that. She is your kinsman.”

  “And so are you,” Mehdi reminded her.

  “Yes. I suppose I am.”

  Mehdi placed two bracing hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look up into his eyes. The green specks there danced, and she forced herself to focus on his words.

  “I know you feel like an outsider right now, but with time you’ll feel at home here. El Farah is a beautiful country full of wonderful people, and I think you’ll fit in just fine. Have a little faith, will you?”

  “I’ll try,” Steph breathed.

  She could smell him when he was that close to her. His scent was spicy, masculine and clean—just how a man ought to smell, she mused. She was almost lost in a trance as he stared down into her eyes, making sure she understood his words. Then he took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I suppose you won’t tell me your last name before I go, so I can remember that one night I took a stroll with Steph from El Farah?”

  “It’s O’
Hanlon,” she said with a small smile.

  “Well now, that is not a very El Farahn name.”

  Steph frowned. “No, it is not. Luckily for me, my name will be changed this time tomorrow.”

  Her heart sank just thinking about it. Here she was, standing next to the handsomest, kindest, most amazing man she had ever met, and she had to have met him mere hours before she would be marrying another. Life was so unfair.

  “Well, no matter what happens, I wish you luck, Steph O’Hanlon. I think the man who will hold your heart is very lucky.”

  “He won’t hold my heart,” Steph said automatically. “He’s just an investment my parents are making for my future.”

  “Well, I suppose you would say that’s just the realist in you talking, right?”

  “I suppose I would,” she said, feeling empty.

  Mehdi nodded, taking a step back. “I suppose that’s my cue to leave, then. I hope for your sake that your parents are sleeping soundly in their bed. You would do well to get some sleep too, you know. You don’t want to look tired on your wedding day.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” she said, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him back as he drifted further and further away.

  “And thanks again, for your help,” she said, trying to drag the conversation out just a moment longer.

  She held out her hand for him to shake one last time. He stopped walking backward and stepped forward, placing his hand in hers and holding it tight. His gaze was intense.

  “If you need anything, Steph, you come find me, okay? I’ll always be willing to help you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she said, not letting go of his hand.

  “I don’t need to. I have exceptional instincts, and something tells me you’re the kind of woman any man would be lucky to take care of. If your future husband doesn’t see that, I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can.”

  Steph swallowed back a sob, not wanting to think about how badly the next day could go. How could any man compare to Mehdi?

  “How would I find you?” she asked.

  A twinkle sparkled in Mehdi’s eye, as though he were laughing at his own private joke.

  “Just ask anyone for Mehdi. They’ll guide you in the right direction.”

  “That seems like a pretty common name,” she said.

  “It isn’t.”

  After a moment, he finally released her hand, their fingers still touching until he stepped back one last time.

  “It was an honor to meet you, Steph. I sincerely hope we do meet again someday.”

  “I hope so, too,” she said.

  “Really?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

  Steph laughed. “Of course! You’re my first El Farahn friend. How can I survive in this country without you to help me out?”

  Mehdi smiled at her words, nodding to her. “Fair enough. Until the next time, then. Sleep well.”

  “Thanks,” Steph said.

  Finally, they could delay their departure no longer. Mehdi turned and walked down the street, and Steph watched his retreating back until he was out of sight. He didn’t turn around.

  Turning back toward the hotel, Steph took a deep breath as she stepped into the lobby, and froze.

  There was no way she could go through with the wedding. Not after meeting Mehdi.

  She realized then that she hadn’t managed to catch his last name. He had told her if she needed anything to ask for him by first name only, mysteriously keeping his last name a secret. Perhaps he really didn’t want to be found after all.

  Regardless, meeting him had solidified Steph’s feeling that there was no way she would be getting married the following day.

  Pulling her room key from her purse, she walked to the elevator and pressed the button for her floor, holding her breath as she rose high into the air. She thought about her future husband—how he had funded her family’s stay in the lavish penthouse suite she was about to sneak back into.

  Was she being ungrateful, behaving in this way? She had a right to have doubts, didn’t she?

  The elevator dinged once it reached the top, and Steph released the breath she’d been holding as she stepped into the hallway. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, then; walking all over the city, jet lag, and a new time zone made for a bad combination, and without Mehdi to distract her she suddenly felt as though she could curl up on the floor and fall asleep right there.

  With heavy steps, she made her way to the door. She leaned forward on her toes and slid the key gently into the lock. The light turned from red to green, and when she opened the door, there was a loud clap that echoed across her nerves. The door groaned as she slowly pushed it forward, stepping in and closing it quickly to keep out the light.

  Steph tiptoed into the living room, which was swathed in darkness save for the glow from the streetlights outside. She breathed as lightly as she could, staying on her toes as she moved closer to her own bedroom, glad to have chosen one across the way from her parents.

  She was nearly at her bedroom door when a light clicked on behind her and she stopped cold. She turned slowly to see her mother sitting on the living room sofa, one hand still hanging on to the lamp string as her dark eyes stared daggers at her daughter.

  Staring back defiantly at her mother, Steph felt anything but brave. Still, she had to defend herself for once in her life, for if she didn’t do it now, she might never again get the chance. Taking a deep breath, she said the one thing she had thought she’d never have the courage to say.

  “I’m not getting married tomorrow.”

  Chapter 6

  Steph

  Elora’s stare didn’t waver as Steph shifted beneath her fiery gaze. She had never been able to stand up to her mother. The woman was a stone wall when she wanted to be.

  “Come sit down, Stephanie. Let’s have a talk.”

  While her voice was even and calm, her tone sent lava-hot fear down Steph’s spine. She knew she was in trouble when her mother used that tone.

  Not knowing what else to do, Steph finally made her way to the living room and sat across from her mother, who was looking at her with well-hidden rage.

  “You will be getting married tomorrow.”

  “I told you that’s not going to be the case,” Steph said.

  “Listen to me, and listen to me well. I have been sitting on this sofa for six hours waiting for you to come home. Six. Hours. You left me to wonder if you were alive or dead, if you’d run away and would never return, any number of terrible possibilities, and I wouldn’t have known what had happened to you because you refused to answer your phone.

  “After all this, you come home to tell me you’re not going through with the marriage we arranged for you. What do you think I plan to do about that?”

  Steph quivered at her mother’s words, a trickle of guilt dripping down over her entitled anger. She hadn’t meant to make her mother worry. She’d just wanted a moment of freedom before she was cast into a marriage she hadn’t chosen for herself.

  “I’m not getting married,” she said again, though her voice shook.

  Her mother stared her down, but Steph maintained eye contact, not willing to look away.

  “Mom, an arranged marriage isn’t what I want. I want to fall in love with a man that I choose, not you.”

  Her mind swept to Mehdi—his kind smile, his teasing manner, all of it. He was exactly the man she had pictured marrying in her dreams. Why should she be forced to do otherwise?

  “You think I wanted to be married to your father?” Elora hissed.

  Steph’s eyes widened in shock. Her mother had never used that tone with her, ever. It was clear she was whispering to keep her father from waking up, but the venom behind it was all too real.

  “He was a foreign man with no knowledge of my culture or upbringing. I didn’t want to marry him at all. I was in love with another man. Still, I did my duty by my parents, and I am glad I did.”

  Her expression softened a little, even as anger bubb
led beneath the surface.

  “It took some time, but I eventually fell in love with your father. He is a kind and loving man, and he deserves to be loved back in the same way. So, too, you will find love. I understand why you ran away, and I don’t blame you for that. I blame you for letting me sit here and worry, but I do not blame you for your fears.”

  Steph sat back, running a hand across her eyes. She felt her mother place a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she moved her own to see Elora by her side.

  “You are not a wayward dreamer, Stephanie. You are my practical girl, a realist like me. You understand that a marriage based on initial attraction cannot last. We can guarantee a lifetime of security and happiness for you by choosing a man who is suitable. Why won’t you let that happen?”

  Steph stared at her mother, her emotions fighting for control. She was in turmoil, but she also felt numb. She was moments away from resigning to her fate, but there was one last question that wouldn’t be held back.

  “What if I never grow to love him?” she whispered.

  Elora shook her head. “Those are your fears talking. Don’t listen to them. We wouldn’t pair you with anyone who wasn’t completely worthy of you. You must know that.”

  Steph wasn’t entirely unsure of that, but she didn’t want to offend her mother, so she kept her reservations quiet. Elora ran a gentle hand along Steph’s hair, tucking it behind her ear.

  “You’re going to be just fine, Stephanie. Look at me. I’m happy, your father is happy, we have you. Everything has a way of working out for the best.”

  Steph gave in to her exhaustion then, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. She allowed Elora to stroke her hair until she realized she was dozing off. Her mother made to stand then, and Steph stood up with her.

  “Now get some sleep. You are going to need as much as you can get if you want to look fresh tomorrow, though I’m afraid it might already be too late for that. Still, an understanding husband will know that there is a little trepidation involved in this process. I’m sure he’ll understand.”