The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be Read online

  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 bubbled 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.”

  Steph wasn’t sure if her mother was talking to her or to herself, but she decided not to think too hard on it as she bade her a quiet good night.

  “Is there anything else you would like to say to me?” Elora asked pointedly.

  Steph knew the drill. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice tired.

  Elora nodded. “I forgive you. Now please get some sleep. We need you fresh for the morning.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Steph said, opening her door and closing it behind her.

  She stood with her back to the door, looking out at the crashing waves of the ocean. With the muted lights of the city upon it, the shore was still clearly visible, but the rest was a dark mass that stretched as far as the eye could see. Steph stepped out to the small veranda to get some fresh air before going to bed.

  When she opened the door, a cool breeze whipped across her face, and she wrapped her arms around her middle as she stood next to the metal bars of her balcony, staring at the ocean and the vast, black mass of desert that accompanied it.

  She wondered where Mehdi was. He was probably in a comfortable bed somewhere, fast asleep, moving on with his life. But what if he wasn’t? What if he was thinking of her, and the life they could have had together were it not for her impending marriage? She held out her hand, the one he had touched, and stared at it as the wind danced between her fingers.

  El Farah really was a beautiful place. She could see in that moment how she could find a home here. She just didn’t want to make it with the wrong man.

  Sighing, she turned back inside, shutting the door and changing into pajamas before sinking into her comfortable bed. She imagined what it would be like to have Mehdi’s strong arms around her, holding her tight, and she fell asleep to the fantasy of becoming his wife in the morning.

  Anything was possible, right?

  SEVEN

  Steph

  Steph heard muted voices outside her door.

  She kept her eyes closed, breathing deeply as she lingered in her dreamlike state, comfortably settled in Mehdi’s embrace. Then reality entered her mind, and her stomach dropped.

  She was getting married today.

  Steph blinked a few times, feeling paralyzed. Perhaps if she never left her bed, they would forget she was in here and not make her go through with it. Perhaps pigs had already learned how to fly.

  There was nothing for it. Steph would have to face her fate, and whatever happened would happen. She had to find the courage to believe that the man she was to marry would be a good fit for her. She had hardly given him any credit, constantly assuming the worst, always looking at the negative. What if, for once, she allowed herself to feel excited at the prospect of meeting her husband for the first time? What if she gave him a chance, even without knowing him?

  Rising from bed, Steph padded to the door and opened it to find her mother sitting with a couple other women, deep in conversation. When she stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to her.

  “And this must be the lucky lady!” one of them said, rising, with sparkles in her eyes.

  Both women stood as Steph walked in. They looked elated, as though their own daughter were getting married to a rich and handsome man. One of them approached her and grasped her hand affectionately. Her hair was very curly, and it stood out from her head at least half a foot.

  “We’re your wedding planners from the El Farah side of the family. I’m your mother’s cousin, Anouk, and this is my daughter, Shivika. We’re here to make sure everything is all set for the big moment!”

  Shivika stepped forward and grasped Steph’s other hand. Steph blinked at them both, not knowing what to say. After a pause, they both burst into laughter.

  “Isn’t it funny how scared they always look, Elora? My dear girl, I assure you, your mother has chosen well. I have personally met the man you are about to marry, and he is perfectly lovely.”

  Steph perked up at that piece of information. Perhaps if
her parents weren’t willing to tell her about her fiancé, then these new cousins of hers would.

  “Do tell me more! What does he look like? What does he do for a living?”

  Anouk wagged her finger at Steph, releasing her grip and rejoining Elora on the sofa. Shivika followed suit, gesturing for Steph to sit across from them.

  “Ah-ah, we will not be the ones to give anything away. We would be breaking with centuries of custom if we did that, my dear. Now, come join us and we can talk about how we’re going to fix your hair for the ceremony, yes?”

  Steph listened with limited attention as her cousins went on and on about hairstyles that would go perfectly with the tiara her mother had given her. She gazed out at the desert and the sea, wishing she were sitting on the shore rather than listening to new family members drone on about twisting her hair one way or another.

  “Steph, are you paying attention? This is important.”

  Her mother’s voice made her jump, and she brought her attention back to the room.

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’m just…excited.”

  While she thought she was unconvincing, Shivika and Anouk accepted her apology and quickly pressed on before they were suddenly at her side and shoving her back into her bedroom.

  “You’ll want to get a good shower in, and make sure you give your hair a thorough wash. It looks a little greasy this morning.”

  “But—” Steph began to protest, but to no avail. Shivika pushed her all the way into the bathroom before she was able tell the woman she was perfectly capable of taking it from there.

  “I’m sure you are on a regular day, but I can see you are distracted by your excitement. If we have to wash your hair for you, we’ll do it!”

  “I think I can manage,” Steph grumbled, shutting the door behind her and staring at her resigned reflection in the mirror.

  She was doing this to make her parents happy. They had been good to her all her life, and they only wanted what was best for her. Sometime in the night she had finally come to terms with the fact that this wedding would take place and she would be married by the day’s end.

  Stepping into the shower, Steph took her time soaping up and washing her hair, standing under the heat of the water for far longer than was necessary. Finally, her mother knocked on the door.

  “Steph, we don’t have all day. We need to start drying your hair now if we want it to be manageable in time.”

  Steph thought about her cousin’s bushy hairdo and wondered just what they meant by “manageable.”

  “I’m coming,” she called, turning off the water.

  She wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out of the bathroom, and then she was bombarded by her cousins once again.

  “About time. Who takes showers that long? No matter; let’s get you glamorous!”

  Steph was seated on the living room sofa, where a makeshift beauty studio had been set up. Shivika came up behind her and began making quick work of her hair with a blow-dryer and a curling iron. With no mirror to see what she looked like, Steph had no choice but to hope they would make her look somewhat decent—yet another decision taken out of her hands. She felt like a rag doll, a child’s plaything.

  Shivika tugged and pulled at her hair, finally crowning it with the tiara.

  “All right, time to get you in your dress,” Anouk said, helping Steph rise and allowing her mother to escort her to her room. Then they pulled her blue and white wedding gown from her suitcase and opened it up, laying it on the bed.

  “This is so similar to what I wore,” her mother said, staring at the garment.

  Steph couldn’t think of anything to say. The dress you wore when you were unhappy? The dress you wore when you were the most scared and miserable in your entire life, just like I feel now?

  Best not to say anything, she decided.

  Her mother helped her step into her gown, buttoning it up from the back as it cascaded down her lean body. Steph thought about Vermont in that moment and her humdrum little life there. She was about to start a whole new adventure, and there was a tiny part of her that felt excited about that even as her insides roiled with trepidation.

  Her mother grasped her by the shoulders and walked her over to a floor-length mirror, finally letting her get a glimpse of herself.

  She looked beautiful. Steph felt a sense of relief upon seeing that her hair was not big and poufy but rather tightly coiled into perfect curls that were pinned along the back of her head. The tiara glittered in the sunlight that sprinkled in through the window, and her gown shimmered as the blue twirls melted perfectly into the white of the dress. Her train was very short, and she reached back for it, holding it as she gave a small twirl to see herself from all angles.

  Her mother smiled. “See,” she said. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

  Steph took one last look at her reflection in the mirror as her mother headed toward the door.

  “It’s time to get going, Stephanie. The limo will be outside in a few minutes.”

  “Just a moment, please,” she said, her eyes entreating.

  Her mother nodded understandingly and closed the door behind her, giving her daughter some time to come to terms with what was about to happen. That wasn’t why Steph had asked for privacy, though. Turning, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small sewing kit, threading a needle with silky white thread. On the side of her dress, she stitched up a portion of it to create a small bustle that swept the fabric up in a more flattering way.

  Bending down, she bit the thread off and finished the stitch before taking one more look at herself.

  “That’s better,” she said, taking a deep breath as she met her own gaze in the mirror.

  She could do this. She had to find the strength to get through the ceremony. There could be something wonderful on the other side, right?

  Steph pulled open her door. In the living room, her cousins, mother, and father were all standing there, watching her with a combination of pride, sadness, and joy. Her father looked a little gray, she noticed, but when she approached he lifted her hand and kissed it.

  “You make a beautiful bride, Steph. We look forward to celebrating with you after the ceremony. I’m sorry I won’t be able to walk you down the aisle though.”

  He cast a sideways glance at his wife, who ignored his comment and pressed a hand to Steph’s back to usher her from the room. They rode the elevator down in heavy silence, the ding when they hit the lobby floor the only sound they heard. Steph glanced around her, noticing the stares she elicited as they walked as a unit to the front of the hotel. A few people congratulated her, and she offered them a weak smile.

  When they stepped out into the desert air, which had precipitously heated up from the night before, Steph saw a long black limo at the curb. The driver was standing in front of the car, but when he saw her, he stood at attention and opened the door for her.

  Steph turned back to her parents, gripping each of their hands.

  “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?” she asked.

  Her father looked a little doubtful, but her mother chimed in immediately.

  “Of course it is. It may seem scary now, but you’ll be grateful when you’re living a comfortable life later. Try to enjoy yourself a little, Stephanie. I regret that I did not at least try.” She didn’t look at Jerry as she said this, though he looked at her in surprise.

  Not wanting to be a part of that conversation, Steph turned and thanked the driver before sliding into the seat. He said something in El Farahn, which she had to assume was something akin to “you’re welcome.”

  The driver closed the door behind her, and as she drove away, she saw her parents arguing about something. If they were discussing the possibility of her not having an arranged marriage, it was a bit too late for that, as the limo sped off down long city streets.

  Steph gazed out the window, wondering what Mehdi was up to at that moment. Then she forced herself not to think about him, since it seemed ina
ppropriate to daydream about one man while on the way to marry another. There was a small snack bar in the center of the car, but Steph had been far too nervous to eat anything all day. She could tell she was hungry, but the thought of food made her want to retch.

  The limo continued out of the city and onto a road carved between a stretch of long, mountainous desert. Steph wished she had thought to bring her purse so she could check the time, but she had been instructed to leave her belongings at the hotel, as she would be escorted back there after the private ceremony. She had nothing to distract herself with and nothing to tell her the time; she was lost in a vortex of nothingness as the limo continued on and on.