The Sheikh's Virgin Bride - A Sweet Bought By The Sheikh Romance Page 5
I couldn’t tear my gaze away, didn’t chew my food, didn’t even move. What he’d said, what I thought it meant—it couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening.
When they were fully in view, the sun was shining down on them, turning my mom’s smile into a bright sparkle. My parents waved at me. Stopping under the high-up balcony, they shaded their eyes as they yelled up to me.
“Hi, honey!”
I was speechless. My mom was walking steadily; her cheeks full and rosy; her eyes glowing. She was healed. This was…
“Amazing, isn’t it, how that new treatment has almost completely healed her.”
Rashid was smiling at me kindly once again, as if I knew this already, as if this wasn’t hands-down the most astounding, incredible thing I’d ever seen.
“Oh my God!” I cried, and opened my eyes.
I was back on the subway, in the dingy car, across from a glazed-eyed girl. As my eyes slowly took in my surroundings and I came to grips with my dream, suddenly, everything became clear. I would accept Rashid's offer. If not for myself, then for my mom and dad.
Calling my parents went easily enough—they were surprised but supportive of my last-minute trip. Calling my work went less smoothly, ending with the owner making vague hints about firing me, though they didn’t seem to hold their usual threat and power over me.
No, I was too filled with adrenaline, already at home, heaping clothes into my duffel bag. Handfuls of T-shirts, shorts, tank-tops, skirts, and dresses I hadn’t worn in years. Happier clothes for a happier me, a more hopeful me, the one who was back now, stronger than ever. All my toiletries I could find I dumped in the little flowered bag Mom had given me years ago.
When I finally stumbled out the door, I didn’t worry. No, anything I had forgotten, I could just buy once I was there. I was sure with my $1,000,000 I just might be able to afford it. As I waited for the taxi I had called to take me to the airport, I texted Rashid.
I’m in. Meet you at the airport in 30.
At the airport, my tentative question to the flight attendant about a flight with Rashid produced a better response than expected.
“So, you’re Lacie?” Her kindly face peered into mine, and I nodded. “Just go to Terminal A, gate number seven. That’s where Rashid’s jet will be waiting.”
I nodded again and faked a casual smile, as if boarding private jets with sheikhs was something I did regularly, and set off for Terminal A.
During my whole walk through the airport and trek through security, the name Rashid bin Ahmed Qarani worked like a magic charm. No need for any ticket, and no need for any further explanation. I’d just say “I’m with Sheikh Rashid,” and every time, I received the same courteous, respectful shoo-through.
When I got to the gate, I saw him. He was standing right under the sign, looking straight at me, as if he had known that I’d come all along, as if he hadn’t doubted it for a second.
When I reached him, he threw his arms around me in an ecstatic hug.
“Lacie. You have no idea how happy this makes me. I’m so excited that I get to show you my home.”
I relaxed my body into his warm, reassuring embrace. “I am, too.”
Chapter Eleven
Rashid
After releasing Lacie from my embrace, I took a moment to regain my composure. I had almost forgotten how beautiful she was, with her long, soft hair and rosy cheeks. Or, maybe she seemed more stunning now, because I hadn’t seen her face all lit up and excited like this before. At any rate, I couldn’t help myself from impulsively grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
“Come. Let me show you what will be taking us there.”
“But my luggage…”
I continued pulling her along. “Forget the luggage. My attendant will deal with it.”
Once we reached the jet, Lacie couldn’t help but let out a low gasp. I paused for a moment myself, enjoying her delight, trying to get it myself. I wished I could regain the wonder I’d experienced the first time I saw its striking navy exterior, all streamlined and stunning with the flock of white herons painted on the side.
Inside the cabin, Lacie was utterly speechless, while I, once again, tried to experience her awe for myself, taking in all the details I knew so well. After all, I had designed the interior myself; I’d chosen the plush white leather seats, the teal walls, the gold-framed paintings. Squeezing her hand, I led her into a seat and took the one beside her.
As the engines started up, the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
“Welcome on board, Sheikh Rashid and Lacie. I’m Paul, and I’ll be your pilot today. Make sure to strap on your seatbelts when the light comes on. I hope you two have an enjoyable trip.”
After the jet had taken off and Lacie had finally pulled her gaze away from the window, I turned to her.
“Before we get there, I’m sure you’d like to hear more about my country, where we’re headed.”
“Yes, please.”
She looked so eager that I almost felt worried. Was Zayed-Kharan really so wonderful, or was I setting this girl up for disappointment? As soon as I asked myself the question, however, I knew the answer.
“Zayed-Kharan is the best place in the world. I, of course, having been born there, am completely unbiased.”
We laughed together.
“No, but seriously. I grew up there, sure, but I’ve also had the good fortune to travel the world—Europe, North and South America, Asia. I’ve been to more than 25 countries so far, and there is nowhere like Zayed-Kharan. Some places may have our beaches but not our parks, others may have shopping malls that rival ours but not our magnificent museums. Our people are friendly and welcoming, and the climate is nice and warm year-round. Really, there are no downsides to living there. Except, for you, perhaps.”
Lacie’s face fell. “Oh?”
“Yes, your family and friends. They will not be there.”
Her expression remained disappointed. “Of course, you’re right. I didn’t really think of it… I hadn’t really had time to fully consider…”
I lightly touched her hand.
“There’s no need to explain. I completely understand and, more than that, I know that this is still a tentative agreement—one that you’re free to change your mind about at any point before the ceremony. Although, I hope you won’t.”
Her lowered eyes indicated she felt the same. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I mean it, though. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured into this, or for you to agree to something you know to be wrong for you. Screw my problem of getting the crown, you do what is right for you. At any point before the ceremony, I will have you flown back, and there won’t be any hard feelings between us.”
Her lips moved upwards into a half-unbelieving, grateful smile.
“Really?”
I nodded. Our eyes met. “Really.”
And she looked so lovely then, with her shy, excited eyes and eager, parted lips, that I could’ve kissed her right then. Instead, I tore my gaze away, directing my words to the white puff of cloud outside my window.
“Enough of that. Let’s get the particulars out of the way so we can enjoy the rest of the flight.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“First off, we have a fair bit of time before the ceremony itself. So, if it’s fine with you, I thought we could tour my country and its different cities, see the sights, so you can get a taste of the life you’re in for.”
When I peered over, she was smiling shyly once again.
“Sounds good to me.”
I poked her in the side. “If you’d rather, we could focus our vacationing in cellphone stores, since that’s what you’re probably the most comfortable in.”
At this, her face broke into a fiery glare, and I held my hands up in mock surrender.
“Kidding!”
Now, her face was assuming an evil grin of its own.
“Or, we could practice dropping our phones, since that
’s what you’re probably the most comfortable doing.”
At this, my own face fell. Our gazes locked, challenging each other, then we both grinned and burst out laughing. I almost stopped myself from saying anything more; I was having so much fun, don’t want to kill the mood. But it was better to get this over with.
“Now, about the ceremony…”
“Yeah?”
“Before the ceremony can take place, you’re going to have to swear an oath in front of the council…about being a virgin.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she said, “That’s fine.”
I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until I breathed out all at once, my whole body sinking into the leather seat. I shot her an appreciative smile.
“That was way easier than I expected.”
She shrugged and smiled herself. “I was worried it might be something more invasive.”
Now, she had me intrigued. I raised a brow. “Such as?”
Her face was now beet red.
“Such as…I don’t know, those medieval ceremony rituals, where you have to consecrate the marriage in the same room as them or somehow get a doctor to prove your virginity or something.”
I shook my head. “No, thank God. We do have this antiquated law, but we aren’t totally barbaric.”
Now, it was her turn to raise her brow at me. “Not totally?”
I grinned. “Well, you know, we still participate in the occasional witch hunt.” As her eyes widened in horror, I was quick to pipe in, “Joking, joking!”
Despite her still-disgusted face, Lacie managed a laugh. “I’ll have to be careful with you.”
Automatically, I replied, “And I with you.”
We shared another extended eye lock, then turned to face the window once more.
I’d said the words unthinkingly, but now that I thought of it, they were more truthful than they should have been—but for different reasons.
Chapter Twelve
Lacie
When Rashid gently shook me and murmured in my ear, “Nearly there, now,” I almost jumped out of my seat.
At his chuckling, I stretched my arms high in the air. “I was sleeping?”
He nodded, smiling. “You just had your eyes closed for about ten hours, so my best guess is maybe.”
I gave him a light tap on the shoulder, which only served to further broaden his smile.
“I also wanted to warn you, though. About what to expect when we get off the plane.”
Just then, the seatbelt light came on and the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
“Hello again, just a heads-up that we’re ten minutes away from touching down, so it’s going to get a little bumpy. Make sure to strap yourselves in and enjoy the rest of the ride.”
I did so, at the same time as dryly reflecting that the second part of his recommendation, that of me enjoying the ride, was unlikely. Just then, turbulence picked up.
Squeezing my hand, Rashid continued. “There will probably be paparazzi and camera crews. I let my parents know as soon as you told me you’d come, and they let everyone else know, apparently. This is a big deal for my country. I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed.”
I could only manage a queasy smile. The plane dipped, my stomach flip-flopped, and I was unsure if it was due to the turbulence or what was set to happen once we landed.
I hated being the center of attention; as a child I had flat-out refused to perform for speeches and plays in school—a stage fright that no amount of punishment or coercion could dissuade me from. And now, I was going to be striding off a plane in front of cameras and paparazzi, broadcasting my arrival to thousands—possibly hundreds of thousands—of people. It was a nightmare come true.
The plane landed all too soon. As soon as the wheels touched the ground, the uneasiness in my stomach increased. The pilot was saying something else and Rashid was squeezing my hand encouragingly, but all I could notice was that the air in the plane had suddenly become thick; I was nearly hyperventilating.
“You okay?” Rashid asked as the plane rolled to a halt.
I nodded. By the time I’d gotten up on my shaky legs, however, and taken his arm, there was no more lying. No, when I reached the door and watched it open to reveal an actual army of blinding lights and deafening shouts, I was paralyzed. Everything was too loud and too bright, and I was frozen. I was trapped. And yet, in the blaring, searing swirl, I heard him.
“Lacie. Lacie.” I felt him, his warm hand squeezing mine. “You ready?”
I looked at Rashid, his kind, confident face, and I nodded. And, as I walked down the steps, I reflected that this time it hadn’t been a lie. No, the cameras were still snapping pictures every millisecond, the paparazzi were still howling over each other like hungry dogs…and yet, it was okay—all of it.
I was okay. Not because I was different or because this was any less overwhelming than before. No, all my calm was concentrated in the clasped hand by my side—the hand of the understanding, powerful man who knew what he was doing, the hand of the man who had my back, who would support me through this. The hand of my possible husband-to-be.
The sea of paparazzi parted as we made our way through the crowd, and, when one, clear shout reached us—“Rashid, how are you feeling right now?”—Rashid grinned and replied, “Happy.”
And then, we were stepping into a dark-windowed limo, Rashid closed the door, and it was over.
“Are you all right?” Rashid was looking at me with concern, his easy bravado gone.
I found my breath and squeezed his hand. “Yes, yes I am.”
Rashid’s worried gaze didn’t let up at my affirmation. “You looked like a deer in headlights back there.”
“I was,” I laughed. “That was pretty overwhelming. I’ll explain another time.”
Rashid indicated for the driver to head off, then turned to me. “I look forward to hearing the story.”
“Thanks for being so understanding.”
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Though, I wouldn’t say no to you telling me everything right here and now.”
Despite myself, I laughed. “Okay, well, let’s see. My favorite color is purple, I like to play badminton, and I hate salami.”
Rashid’s face transformed in mock-horror. “Are you being serious? You hate salami?”
When I gave him a sad nod, he responded with a supportive pat. “Well, nobody’s perfect.”
I shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t say that…” I said with a wink.
We laughed together at that. The rest of the ride was more playful, easy banter. Every time the conversation lagged, every time I started to notice how ridiculously good Rashid smelled, or how beautiful his gold-flecked eyes were, or worry that maybe we wouldn’t get along as well as it seemed, the conversation picked up again. Talking to him was like breathing; it may have paused or slowed, but it was easy—undeniably, incredibly easy.
By the time the limo had come to a stop and the door was opened, my face hurt from smiling so much. As he stepped out, Rashid gave the attendant who’d opened it an appreciative smile and thanked him, before turning his attention back to me.
“So, what do you think?”
I had to tear my gaze from his handsome face to see what he meant—the palace he was indicating behind him.
I gasped. My eyes, couldn’t decide where to stop, whether it was the lush acres of garden all around the majestic building, the ten-foot-high fountain in front of it, or the palace itself. And palace was even too paltry of a word for the structure, for it was made of ivory-white pillars and gold trellises, everything topped off with a large, teal dome.
No, this building before me was something between a temple and a palace, a fairy tale and a dream.
Self-consciously, I cleared my throat before speaking. “Rashid, it’s the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen.”
Rashid didn’t even turn to look at it. Clearly pleased, he came up to me, took my arm in his, an
d smiled down at me.
“Thank you, Lacie. Thank you.” Seeing the question in my face, he continued, “For everything.”
Inside, the palace was one spell-binding sight after another. There was a library the size of the one in my neighborhood, with bookshelves as tall as elephants, everything a green-upholstered and dark-wooded vision. There was a pool bigger than I’d ever seen, with clear blue waters fanning out like the horizon on the sea. The kitchen looked like that of a small restaurant, while the bathroom was the size of my whole house, with a silver jet tub so shiny, it almost looked like a mirror.
Rashid saved the best for last: the marble-floored, tastefully decorated room he explained was his own. He opened the blinds, then gestured out to his backyard, which was a natural paradise, with lush trees and exotic plants alike.
“When the sun shines into the room in the morning, I…” He shook his head. “Of course, you aren’t expected to sleep here until after the ceremony. Or ever, if you prefer.”
The last words he said with a touch of sadness that made me impulsively grab his hand.
“Rashid, I…”
But he was already continuing on down the hallway.
“Let me show you your room.”
And then, I was speechless once more before this latest gorgeous sight. A purple-themed room, with a mauve satin-sheeted bed, lilac curtains, and a plum-colored armchair.
“As soon as you mentioned what your favorite color was, I knew this room had to be yours. It was…” He fell silent, then shook his head as if shaking a thought away. “I think you should have it.”
I hugged him, grinning. “Rashid, thank you.”
But, suddenly, the mood had dampened. Drawing himself away, Rashid addressed me monotonously, as if I were a stranger.
“In a few minutes, we’ll have dinner with my parents. I’ll come get you in twenty.”
And then, he was gone, leaving me wondering what had caused the change and what I was supposed to do about it. As I slumped onto my new bed, a glance in the silver-bordered mirror revealed that I was as ill-dressed for a meal with the Sheikh and Sheikha as I had expected.