The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

by Rayner, Holly

  Steph groaned. “Do we have to?” She could just imagine the torment of facing relatives who would judge her harshly for the decision she had made.

  Elora opened her door then, her expression brooking no argument. “Yes, we do. You should have thought of the repercussions before you ran off.”

  “Great,” Steph said, not moving.

  She could still smell the ocean on her skin, the slight scent of the sunscreen Mehdi had rubbed on her back still lingering on her bedding. She secretly hoped housekeeping didn’t change the sheets while they were gone. She wanted another chance to breathe it in.

  “Come on then, let’s get going,” Elora said impatiently.

  “Okay, okay. Let me just take a quick shower and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Elora grunted something incoherent before closing the door behind her, clearly grumpy about having to face her family in the wake of Steph’s actions. Still, Steph knew her mother would be by her side, and that was what really mattered.

  Reluctantly, Steph shed her clothing and stepped into a hot shower. It was nothing compared to the one she had experienced in Mehdi’s palace, but it still got the job done. She took a little extra time to enjoy the hot water on her tense shoulders before stepping out and dressing, braiding her hair to keep it in place.

  When she stepped out into the living room, she found her parents ready to go, her father looking a little worse for wear.

  “Are you all right, Dad?”

  Jerry sniffed, but with one glance at her mother he stood a little straighter.

  “Just a little jet lag. Nothing some fresh air can’t help.”

  Steph nodded. She could see he wasn’t terribly thrilled about this outing either.

  The three of them made their way out onto the street and hailed a cab, which drove them to the northern part of the city. There, the car pulled up in front of a large, teal-colored house.

  “Here you are,” the driver said.

  Elora paid the man before exiting the vehicle, and they all stood in front of the building, preparing themselves for a taxing afternoon. Steph had been surprised to see that she had slept into the afternoon, but she was grateful. Sunset would come all the faster for it.

  They walked up to the front door and rang the bell, and a young girl opened it almost immediately.

  “You’re here! I’m Beyah. I’m your cousin!”

  The young girl’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Steph found a smile for her even as her stomach twisted into a nervous lump.

  “Come in, come in!” Beyah said, grabbing Steph’s hand and pulling her inside.

  Her two cousins from her wedding day were there, along with their husbands and several children. There were a few other people Steph didn’t know, and while she was introduced to everyone, she almost immediately forgot their names.

  Shivika watched as they came into the kitchen, her eyes searching for and not finding the husband who should have been there.

  “What is this? Where is your new husband? He would insult us by not joining you for this ceremonial meeting?”

  Steph glanced at her mother, who nodded, which was in no way reassuring.

  “There was no wedding,” Steph blurted out, and the room went silent.

  Steph allowed her family to absorb that information. It felt so strange to have a room full of strangers so heavily invested in her marital status. She defiantly made eye contact with everyone in the room, though it was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.

  “And why not?” Shivika asked.

  Everyone continued to stare at Steph, who looked around with as much solemnity as she could muster.

  “It turns out an arranged marriage isn’t in my future. I’m going to marry for love.”

  The room burst with noise at that moment, the whole family beginning to argue. Steph could hardly hear a word anyone was saying. Then she felt a tug on her hand. Beyah was looking up at her with wide, brown eyes.

  “I think that’s brilliant,” she said, beaming.

  Steph patted her hand. “Thanks, Beyah. Now we just have to convince everyone else that it is, too.”

  “We will,” Beyah said, still smiling.

  Once the commotion died down, Steph’s mother cleared her throat.

  “I understand that this is unprecedented. However, after speaking with Steph and the groom, it became clear that this was the best possible decision.”

  “She saw the groom before the ceremony?” an uncle said.

  “I did,” Steph said. “He is a lovely man who happens to be in love with someone else.”

  There was another uproar at that statement. Elora put her fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle. Everyone stared at her in stunned silence.

  “Now listen, you lot. Steph has another love interest, and the man happens to be one of the most influential men in the country, so pipe down. The whole point of this is to ensure a safe and happy future for my daughter. While she would have had that with Sadiq, there’s a chance she can still have it with another man.”

  “How do you know that? Why are you being so vague?”

  Elora glanced at Steph and gave her a small smile before addressing the rest of the room. “I’m sure we’ll all be back together celebrating soon. Until then, why don’t we enjoy the meal that’s been prepared and try to get to know one another better? After all, this is the first time we’re meeting as a family, and Steph’s first time in El Farah. You don’t want her to think we’re all a bunch of uptight matrons, do you?”

  There was a lower level of grumbling at this statement. Then Anouk stepped forward, holding out a glass of rose-colored wine.

  “Here you go, Steph. Sounds like you could use a bit of a drink. If, after you have a sip, you’d like to share with us what happened, we’d be more than happy to hear it.”

  Steph looked at the glass before taking it from her cousin’s fingertips, lifting it up to the room at large. Automatically, everyone raised a glass.

  “To family,” she said, lifting her cup and taking a sip.

  Several people smiled at that.

  “To family!” they agreed, drinking liberally.

  Beyah had a soda that she used for the toast, and she sipped it delicately as she proceeded to hang on to Steph’s hand the rest of the time.

  Person after person approached her, telling her their own stories and how they were related. Steph realized she was going to need to draw a chart to figure it all out as she gave them bits and pieces of her own failed engagement story, not bringing Mehdi up though they demanded to know who it was she would really be marrying.

  It was going to be a long afternoon.

  Chapter 17

  Mehdi

  Mehdi shifted when he heard footsteps enter his bedroom.

  There could only be one reason someone was in his room, and when he opened his eyes he found Kalin rummaging around the immaculately organized closet, preparing a ceremonial outfit for him.

  “Kalin, remind me why you are doing that again,” Mehdi said, his voice creaky with first use.

  Kalin nodded as he brought over a white tunic and matching pants, laying them out on the bed.

  “You had planned to visit a session of parliament today, sir. Would you like to cancel?”

  Mehdi considered it. His whole world had been upended when he met Steph, but the truth was that there was a long time to wait before sunset, and it would be better to stay busy, lest he think about standing on that beach alone.

  “I would not. Thank you for your help. I can take it from here.”

  “Very good, sir. Shall I call the car for you?”

  “Please,” Mehdi said, and Kalin bowed and exited the room.

  Mehdi wished he could drive himself around, but pomp and circumstance were important to the people of El Farah. He thought about buying a jeep and driving to Steph, the two of them escaping to the north and enjoying the forests there together.

  It was a wonderful thought, albeit an impossible one. Mehdi knew how o
ften duty won out over the heart, and to believe otherwise would be foolish.

  Still, he had to hope.

  Stripping down, he took a quick shower before changing into his clothing for the day. As he exited his room, he decided to make a stop at the family chapel before heading over to the session.

  The chapel was only a few doors down from the master bedroom, and Mehdi anointed his wrist with holy water as he approached a seat near the front. Before sitting, he lit an incense stick and used it to light two white candles in front of a framed photograph.

  “Hello, Mother. Hello, Father,” he said, bowing to the picture of his parents.

  He had often been told that he was the spitting image of his father, and he hoped that was true. The former sheikh had been a kind-hearted man who, with his wife, had spent his life fighting for the betterment of mankind. Mehdi had been only thirteen when his mother died unexpectedly—a cancer that took her quickly and painfully. His father had been devastated by the loss, and while he had continued his work, he only lived a few years more before Mehdi found him cold in his bed.

  Mehdi had been only seventeen when he’d taken the throne. While the position didn’t hold the kind of responsibilities that the actual ruling of a country did, he’d been thrust into adulthood far sooner than many others his age, and he had dealt with the consequences of that by taking his parents’ stance on bettering the world for as many people as possible. He often found himself falling short of his father’s example, and with no one to assure him otherwise, Mehdi was harder on himself than perhaps he ought to have been.

  He spent some time reflecting on the previous day’s adventures as well as preparing for a day at parliament. It wasn’t always an easy trip to make, and he would certainly be faced with challenging confrontations. Taking a breath, he realized it was time to face his duties. He bade a fond farewell to his parents’ image before heading back to the main entrance.

  A limo was waiting for him there, and he slid into the backseat, the car pulling away from the palace as soon as he closed the door. His briefcase had been left on the seat for him, and Mehdi went over some of the bills that were making their way through as he was driven toward the gleaming capital building.

  Men and women in suits stood on the vast stairway that led to the parliament chambers. As Mehdi’s limo approached, many faces turned in his direction, waiting for him to exit.

  “Your Highness, it’s good to see you! I wasn’t aware you planned on attending our session today!”

  One of the senators who was particularly keen to get into Mehdi’s good graces was reaching his hand out for Mehdi to shake, which he did, albeit reluctantly. The man’s brow was glistening with sweat, though he made no move to wipe the offending drops away.

  “There are a few pieces of legislation I would like to see passed today, Senator,” Mehdi said, and the man’s head bobbed up and down.

  “I imagine so, sir. Please, let’s remove ourselves from this heat so we can be fresh when deliberation begins, shall we?”

  “Of course,” Mehdi agreed, allowing himself to be ushered into the building.

  The parliament hall was a vast room filled with sleek wooden desks set up in a crescent pattern, to allow all members to see one another. The walls had been hand painted by one of El Farah’s most celebrated artists, and they depicted images of justice, fairness, and truth. While government was not always that way, the paintings provided a solid reminder of politicians’ purpose in that building—to serve the people of El Farah in the best way possible.

  The senator reluctantly left Mehdi’s side, as he was due at his desk for roll call in a few minutes. Glad to see him go, Mehdi he was preparing to take his own seat when a voice addressed him from behind.

  “You really felt it necessary to come here today?”

  Mehdi’s muscles tensed at that voice, and he turned slowly, his eyes meeting the dark black gaze of his ex-wife.

  “Jia. You’re looking well today,” he said.

  It was true, after all. Jia was a beautiful woman. It was a small part of what had drawn his parents’ attention when they began seeking a bride for him. Of course, they had died before the ceremony could take place, so Jia had been selected by default when their files were located by the royal attorney. It was the attorney who had taken the role of acting parent in the marriage negotiations, and he had remained unaware that Jia had become quite manipulative by the time she was ready to marry the sheikh.

  “Why are you here, Mehdi? You have no place in this building.”

  Mehdi shrugged. “I actually have a reserved seat, right over there, that I have access to at any time. You, on the other hand, are merely borrowing yours until the people deem you unworthy to serve. When is the next election again?”

  Jia sneered. “You exist as a fortunate accident of our history. There are several of us that are working to dismantle your reign entirely, which would eliminate any need for you ever again.”

  Mehdi laughed. “I certainly hope you all succeed. I would like to enjoy living in a house of my own choosing at some point. Besides, the palace is a waste of resources. We all know that. I hope you and your team work extra hard to see this through, Jia.”

  Jia simmered at his words, clearly miffed that her comments hadn’t hurt him. Mehdi nodded politely to her and then turned his back on her, effectively ending the exchange before she could get the final word in. He knew that would leave her just as angry as anything, and he grinned to himself as he took his seat.

  Still, seeing Jia was a stark reminder of just how different she was from Steph. His marriage had been beyond miserable, with Jia doing her best to control and manipulate him at every turn. With Steph everything just came so easily. With Jia everything had been a fight. She had gotten her position in parliament based on her marriage to him, which was laughable. She told the people she had garnered extensive experience working for the state while she lived in the palace.

  They didn’t seem to care that she had only been there mere weeks before the marriage was dissolved. Nor did they seem to care that she’d had nothing to do with running the estate or government. She had gotten in solely on her convincing words and beautiful face, though if that wasn’t politics in a nutshell, what was?

  The gavel was struck and roll call was taken, and parliament began their session. A few bills were proposed that Mehdi wasn’t concerned with, and the ones that he wanted to pass were passed, admittedly with a few stares in his direction as senators placed their votes.

  Mehdi bit back a smile at this; while he didn’t hold the power to make changes directly, he certainly held influence over those who did. Sometimes that certainly came in handy.

  “I would like to make a motion.”

  Jia’s clear voice rang across the floor, which fell silent as the senators waited for her to continue. She glanced up at Mehdi with venom in her eyes.

  “I move that all funding for the royal family be revoked and returned to the people’s fund of El Farah. That money is useful to us, and there is no reason to use it to fund an ancient landmark that involves so much upkeep.”

  Several senators glanced nervously at Mehdi, who held a perfectly neutral gaze as he watched Jia try to upheave him for the millionth time. A man cleared his throat before answering.

  “I respectfully disagree. Our palace is the hallmark of our country, and it should be cared for with the dignity that entity deserves. Would you have France eliminate the Eiffel Tower, or Egypt their pyramids? Our palace is as much a part of our history and identity as those landmarks, and it should be cared for in much the same way.”

  The hall echoed with general agreement, and Jia frowned deeply as she glared around the room.

  “We can’t afford it!” she spat.

  “We can, and we will be able to for many years to come. Jia, this motion is a waste of our and our taxpayers’ time. Let’s get this over with, please, so we can adjourn. All in favor?”

  The room was heavy with silence. Jia and a few others raised
their hands.

  “All opposed?”

  Hands shot up in the room. The senate leader slammed his gavel back down, the echo reverberating around the hallowed hall.

  “Motion declined. We will now adjourn this session of parliament. Thank you for your time, Senators.”

  There was a general bustle as everyone rose from their seats. Mehdi caught Jia’s eye. He grinned, lifting an eyebrow and shrugging his shoulder as she huffed and turned away, storming from the hall.

  “In your dreams” Mehdi mumbled, satisfied.

  If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was seeing his ex humiliated in public by her own design. He made a mental note to continue fighting for the people of El Farah, even as she worked for her own best interests. It was obvious to the people who would have their back when it came down to it, which was something Jia couldn’t see. She was too blinded by her own ambition.

  Making his way out of the building, Mehdi took a deep breath, checking his watch. The day had managed to slip away from him as the session had dragged on, and the sun would be setting in a couple of hours.

  Waving to the limo, Mehdi opted to walk to the beach, which was only about a half hour stroll from the building. He placed his hands in his pockets as he sauntered, nodding to people as he passed them by on the sidewalk. He was met with the usual wide-eyed stares of people wanting to address him but also give him his space. A couple of times he was stopped and asked to take a picture, which he did with a smile.

  Mehdi loved being among the people. It was something his parents had always made sure he did, so that he could be reminded that they were not above anyone just because they were royal.

  He heard the lapping waves of the beach before he saw them. As he approached the ocean, he gazed out at the blue sky which was dotted with a few clouds. The beach was fairly busy, with children playing and couples relaxing on the fine, warm sand.

  Mehdi’s eyes combed the beach, looking for Steph. Perhaps she had come early and would be waiting for him? When he saw no sign of her, his hope dwindled.