The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

by Rayner, Holly

  “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.”

  Steph thought about anything happening at the palace, and her thoughts turned to Mehdi’s lips before she gave herself a mental shake. Obviously being in a wedding gown was not helping the direction of her thoughts.

  “I would be grateful for a change of clothing, yes,” she said.

  “Wonderful. I can show you to one of our guest rooms. Right this way.”

  Mehdi started down a long, shimmering hallway, and Steph fell into step with him, finally taking the time to observe her surroundings. The walls were white, like the exterior, and they were loaded with ancient portraits, colorful tapestries and rugs.

  “These are amazing,” Steph said, taking in all the art.

  Mehdi glanced around, nodding nonchalantly. “Yes, I suppose so. These pieces of art have been in my family for generations. The whole palace has, actually. El Farah, if you haven’t noticed, is really big on tradition, history, and family loyalty. It is because of this that the palace has remained unchanged for many centuries. We update it, of course, when the gold starts to get weathered, but generally the place looks exactly as it did when my ancestors lived here.”

  “You make that sound like a bad thing,” Steph said.

  Mehdi shrugged. “I think tradition certainly has a place, but I’m not the same man as my great-great-grandfather. Why would I want to live in a palace coated in gold? It’s a waste of resources, and the upkeep is atrocious. I don’t want our tax dollars going toward something like this.”

  “Do the people agree with you? Perhaps you could use popular vote to create that change.”

  Mehdi frowned. “They do not. As I said, tradition is a big part of our culture. The people like the palace the way it is. They want it to look like this for their grandchildren and beyond. I’m afraid any children I may have will have to endure the level of exorbitance this castle provides.”

  Steph was surprised to hear a sheikh speak in such a way about his palace. Mehdi seemed to like things simple, even as he complicated her own life with wild, spontaneous gestures like a secret limo kidnapping. He was an enigma, a puzzle she wanted to pick apart and solve.

  They reached the end of the hallway and Mehdi opened a door on the left. The room was expansive, but Steph hesitated before going in.

  “What is it?” Mehdi asked.

  She blushed. “I just… I’ll need a little help getting out of this dress.”

  “Oh,” Mehdi said, clearing his throat.

  “Not a lot! Just the buttons on the back.”

  They paused for a moment before Mehdi nodded and she turned her back to him. Steph felt a searing heat as his fingers brushed lower and lower down her back, pulling each button from its loop, before stopping right at the base. She took a bracing breath, trying to calm herself as she turned back to him with a sheepish smile.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Mehdi’s expression was unreadable, but in that moment Steph was sure he was fighting the urge to kiss her, too. After a pause, he stepped back toward the hallway.

  “No problem. You’ll find spare clothing in the armoire by the bed. I’ll have someone come get you in a bit. I imagine you haven’t eaten yet?”

  “I have not,” Steph agreed, stepping inside her room.

  “Good. I’ll have something delicious prepared. See you soon,” he said, nodding to her before turning and walking briskly in the opposite direction.

  Steph watched him go once again, and she couldn’t believe her life.

  She was in a palace, with the Sheikh!

  Chapter 8

  Steph

  The room Steph was in was all high, arching ceilings and tasteful furniture. The dome theme continued, the room arching over her like a sand-colored rainbow, curling over a large, comfortable-looking bed.

  Her back still tingled where Mehdi had touched her. Knowing now that he had servants, she wondered why he hadn’t sent a maid in to help her instead of taking on the task of undressing her himself.

  She decided not to think about it, lest she get any more ideas in her head. The man was a king, for heaven’s sake. There was no way she could entertain a relationship with him. He probably had an arranged marriage himself!

  Allowing her dress to fall to the floor, Steph padded across the room in her slip to the spectacularly large armoire Mehdi had mentioned, tossing the doors open and taking a look inside. The clothing was splendid. There were many variations of sizes, and Steph poked through until she found a pale yellow dress and a white cardigan—simple, just as she liked it. She slid into the dress before turning toward the mirror.

  Her makeup was still perfect, but it seemed a little much for the simple outfit. She carefully unpinned her hair until it was in a curly ponytail and washed a layer of makeup off. By the time she was done, she looked perfectly suited for a late afternoon lunch rather than the wedding she was meant to be at.

  Another rush of guilt shot through her, but she pressed it down. Steph was allowed to enjoy her own life, and she had never before done anything she’d truly wanted to do. In this moment, what she wanted was to be with Mehdi, enjoying his company in a country she was still getting to know. Who better to get the details from than the ruling monarch himself?

  As she finished cleaning herself up, there was a knock at the door. Steph walked over to answer and found a young woman there, who bowed.

  “His Majesty has sent me to guide you in the right direction, miss,” she said, her voice slightly accented.

  Steph nodded, smiling, before she looked down and realized she didn’t have proper shoes. The young woman took notice of the direction of her gaze and entered the room, opening a drawer at the bottom of the armoire and showing Steph the selection there. Steph picked out a delicate pair of flats and slid them on before following the young woman out of the room and down several corridors.

  Mehdi hadn’t been wrong. The palace was showy in a way that didn’t suit his personality at all. Steph wondered what it would take to make some changes, though of course that was far beyond any decisions she could make. The woman opened a veranda door which led to a small, shaded courtyard. There, Mehdi was enjoying a cool drink as he sat at the table, and when he saw her he stood.

  “That looks far more comfortable,” he said, his eyes taking her in.

  Steph blushed again beneath his stare, but she smiled. “Thanks for giving me access to your collection. Everything was so beautiful. It was difficult to find something I liked most.”

  “You have chosen admirably,” he said, gesturing for her to sit down, which she did, thanking the girl who had guided her there.

  “Are you hungry?” Mehdi asked, and she nodded.

  �
��I couldn’t stomach food all day, but now that things have relaxed a bit, I could eat a horse!”

  “Well that is barbaric,” Mehdi said, appalled, and Steph laughed.

  “It’s just an expression; don’t worry. Anyway, wasn’t it you telling me not to question the meat I was eating just the other day?”

  Mehdi grinned. “That was because I knew it was regular old beef, but I wanted to see if you’d dare to try it.”

  “Did you think I’d chicken out?”

  “You? Never.” Mehdi laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “Do you like punch?” he asked.

  Steph nodded. “As much as anyone, I suppose. Why?”

  “You must try this. It’s made with fruit which is only grown here in El Farah. It doesn’t travel very well, which is why you’ve likely never tried it, but it is delicious.”

  Steph reached for the ornate goblet in front of her and took a sip of the red punch. Her eyes widened at the taste. It was sweet, citrusy, and delicious. It was the perfect thing to calm her nerves after a couple of stressful days.

  “This is outstanding!” she said, and Mehdi smiled, satisfied.

  “We’ll also be having a lunch of all of El Farah’s traditional dishes, so I can introduce you to anything your mother might have missed in your education of your heritage.”

  Steph grinned. “I can’t wait,” she said, taking another sip of punch. “So what do you do, as the sheikh? I’m surprised you have enough free time to kidnap unsuspecting women from their arranged marriages.”

  Mehdi laughed, and Steph found herself leaning in closer, wanting to be near that energy.

  “My position is ceremonial, mostly. I’m a monarch, but we have a parliament that seems quite content running the show.”

  “Interesting. Do they let you in on any decisions at all?” she asked.

  “Sometimes. If there is an issue I feel particularly strongly about I will make my opinion known.”

  “And what is the political atmosphere like in El Farah? Is there one party that hates another?”

  Mehdi thought about that for a moment. As he did, their food arrived, and the table became laden with exotic-looking dishes that smelled like heaven.

  Mehdi explained what every dish was, from the meat pastries to the fruit pies and local vegetables. Steph filled her plate and took a succulent bite, closing her eyes as she experienced the cuisine of El Farah for only the second time.

  “To answer your question,” Mehdi said, picking up where they left off, “there is some political discord here, but El Farah has been a prosperous country for many years now. When the people do not suffer, the government is working correctly, and peace ensues. I find that we have managed to strike that balance, though I do believe some of our laws to be a bit too conservative.”

  Steph took another sip of punch to wash down her fruit pie, tilting her head. “It seems you are in the minority, though I suppose since you’re the only person here I really know, I can’t say that’s a fully informed observation.”

  “I spent many of my formative years in Europe and the United States, and I learned a lot while I was there. I think taking on some Western ideals would be good for our country. It would help us become more united with the world as a whole, and help blend us into the twenty-first-century global community.”

  “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Steph said, and Mehdi shrugged.

  “Yes, well. Enough about me. Tell me a little more about you. What did you do back in the States? I don’t think I even know what state you’re from!”

  Steph smiled, thinking about the humid Vermont air as she sat out in the dry desert heat. The shade certainly helped, and Mehdi’s courtyard was filled with various vegetation that seemed to cool the area. She made a mental note to ask him about how that worked later.

  “I’m from Vermont. It’s a bit south of Canada and a bit north of Boston. Very humid summers, though nothing compared to this. The heat here is a whole other level.”

  “Yes. I imagine it is. What did you do in Vermont?”

  His eyes were engaged, and Steph realized he was truly curious about her. She wasn’t sure how much of herself she was willing to share. After all, her time with Mehdi seemed so limited.

  “I worked at a bank. It was what my father wanted me to do, so it’s what I did.”

  “Again with that loyalty to your family’s wishes. You are more El Farahn than you think, Steph.”

  She smiled at that. “I suppose I may be. They have always been the best to me, so I feel like they deserve my best in return. It didn’t occur to me until now that I might actually be able to do things my own way, though.”

  Mehdi leaned in, his expression impish. “Fun, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Her smile deepened. “Yes, it is,” she agreed, though her smile faltered.

  “What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

  “I just feel bad. My parents must be worried sick right about now, and I don’t have my phone. At least then I could text them that I’m okay, you know? The longer I’m gone, the more they’ll worry.”

  Mehdi pulled out a cellphone and handed it to her. “Text them. Tell them that you need a few days to think and clear your head. At least that way they’ll know you’re okay.”

  Steph held the phone in her hand, wondering what she could possibly say that wouldn’t drive her mother into a rage. Knowing there was nothing for it, she tapped in her mother’s number and the message Mehdi had suggested, then hesitated before pressing send.

  “A few days?” she asked, looking up at him.

  Mehdi smiled. “You can stay with me at the palace, of course. We have a guest room and plenty of provisions for you. It would be no trouble whatsoever.”

  Steph’s heart fluttered at his offer. She would get to spend more time with Mehdi, which, if she were being honest, was all she wanted to do. She inhaled and pressed send, exhaling after the message had been sent. Then she handed the phone back to Mehdi, who pocketed it with a grin.

  “There now. Your parents know you’re safe. They might be mad, but they love you and they’ll get over it. Now why don’t you try to enjoy yourself for a little bit. Have you ever gotten to let loose before?”

  Steph shrugged. “Not really. I’ve had expectations put on me my whole life, especially since my father was wealthy. I had to behave a certain way, lest it hurt his image.”

  “You come from a wealthy background?” Mehdi asked, surprised.

  “Yes. Why does that surprise you?”

  “Because a girl who comes from money wouldn’t need an arranged marriage,” he said.

  “Ah, you figured that part out, huh? Yes, but notice I said that I was wealthy. The stock market crash took everything we had, and my dad had to rebuild from scratch. It wasn’t enough, in their minds, to support me in my future, so my parents looked toward an arranged marriage. Personally, I think that’s just an excuse though. My mother always intended for me to be married this way.”

  Mehdi nodded. “That’s very likely. It is custom here for a girl of middle income to arrange a better situation for herself. I can understand why your mother would want that kind of security for you.”

  “You can?” she asked. “Then why would you do all of this?” She waved a hand around them, gesturing toward the palace and the courtyard.

  Mehdi cleared his throat. “I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing to do?”

  “Subtext: you’re not going to tell me?”

  “Correct,” Mehdi said with a maddeningly handsome grin.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, enjoying the cool air of the immediate area, knowing that the walls beyond were steaming with heat. After a while, servants came to clean up the dishes. Steph assumed they would be parting ways at that point, but Mehdi didn’t move, and soon, another round of plates were brought in.

  Steph laughed. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite!”

  “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind. Everyone always ha
s room for dessert,” Mehdi said, watching as plates of chocolate-filled pastries and custard cakes mingled with baklava and various puddings.

  “I suppose they do,” Steph agreed, filling her plate and taking one of everything.

  They enjoyed lighter conversation over dessert, Mehdi talking about what it was like growing up in the palace and how easy it was to get lost at first. He explained the history of the palace itself before launching into a full-blown history lesson about El Farah. Steph found herself on the edge of her seat as she listened to him recant the tale of their shared heritage.

  “It wasn’t until 1859 when the monarchy was dispelled and parliament was put into place. It wasn’t a violent thing, really. My great-great-great-grandfather was a very amiable man, and he saw the needs of his people. He knew that the best thing was to let them find a form of governance that worked for the most people, and he happily gave up his reign. Because of this, the people revered him and allowed him to maintain his status as sheikh, albeit in a ceremonial sense.”

  “So that’s how you came to be in the position you’re in,” Steph said, and Mehdi nodded.

  “Yes. The government has a fund that goes toward maintaining this residence, though I do try to live simply, knowing my livelihood comes from the kindness of my people.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Steph said, and Mehdi shrugged.

  “It’s important as a ruler to be mindful of your people’s welfare. I may not be a ruler in the true sense of the word, but my family has ingrained in me that sense of duty. I will not abuse it, as long as I live.”

  Steph stared at Mehdi with a new sense of respect in her eyes. He was becoming more and more appealing with every word that came from his perfect mouth.

  She was in serious danger of losing her heart to the benevolent Sheikh.

  Chapter 9

  Steph

  By the time they finished eating dessert, it was already early evening. The sun was sinking toward the sandy horizon when Mehdi offered to give Steph a more in-depth tour of the palace, which she readily accepted.