The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

Jalaal’s hotel was just as close as he’d said. As soon as we stepped out onto the strip, I could see it, towering just a block behind the other casinos. It was probably one of the tallest hotels in Vegas—if not the tallest.

I checked the time after texting the others to tell them where I was. It was nearly midnight, and yet all kinds of people still populated the streets. If it wasn’t for the darkness, I wouldn’t have been able to tell if we were nearing twelve a.m. or twelve p.m.

“Las Vegas sure is an interesting place,” I commented.

Jalaal strolled alongside me, one hand in his pocket and the other holding mine. I was trying to act nonchalant about the gesture, but in truth, it had been years since anybody had held my hand like that, and I was positively giddy about it.

“It has its advantages and disadvantages,” he said. “Being able to get ice cream at all hours is definitely a plus.”

“You like ice cream?” I glanced across at him with a grin.

He returned my smile. “Anybody who says they don’t like ice cream is lying. I have that on good authority.”

“Oh yeah? Is that something you learned from your royal connections?”

“If it were, I couldn’t tell you.” He squeezed my hand.

We arrived in front of his hotel, which looked even more magnificent up close. The tall structure was all glass and steel beams, stretching up into the sky as far as I could see. The front doors led into a bright, airy lobby, with a babbling water feature just inside the doors.

“I don’t think I’d ever be able to get used to this,” I said, staring up at the ceiling and its thousands of glittering lights.

“You’d be surprised.” Jalaal strode toward the elevator at the far end of the lobby. “You can get used to anything with enough time.”

The front desk came into view. Behind it, a perky blond man smiled affectionately at us. Or at Jalaal, anyway.

“Good evening, Sheikh Afsal,” he said. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Rodney.” Jalaal nodded toward the man and then pulled me into the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor. The child in me was tempted to press every button on the panel. There were so many.

“This is a pretty big hotel,” I said. “They must have a lot of guests.”

Jalaal cocked an eyebrow down at me. “I believe they do.”

“Does the receptionist know everybody by name?”

Jalaal smirked. “No, not everyone.”

“Do you live here or something?” I asked.

Jalaal chuckled and continued to gaze at the elevator doors. I wasn’t sure whether it was because it had been a stupid question or not. I wasn’t rich; I didn’t know how these things worked. Maybe the receptionist was obligated to know all resident royalty by name and title. Maybe Jalaal was just a friendly guy who spoke to a lot of people.

Whatever the case, I wasn’t going to let my confusion ruin my night.

I needn’t have worried; all doubt was wiped from my mind the moment the elevator doors slid open to reveal the largest, grandest hotel suite I’d ever seen.

My mouth dropped to the floor. Jalaal didn’t give me time to collect it before he was tugging me out of the elevator and into a wide reception space, which was decorated more elegantly and with more care than any of the houses on my Pinterest board.

“Oh my God…” I released Jalaal’s hand and ran over to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end of the room. Vegas’ flashing lights extended for miles, eventually tapering off into the pitch blackness of the desert.

“It’s a nice view, huh?”

I jumped. I wasn’t sure if Jalaal had just been very quiet when he snuck up behind me, or if I’d been too overwhelmed by the vista to notice anything else. His warm laugh rolled over me, and I felt two strong arms encircling my waist.

I leaned back against Jalaal’s hard chest. It felt right. I had been worried that I would be nothing but a ball of nervous energy as soon as he tried to touch me, but I was okay. I was better than okay.

“It’s amazing.” I sighed. “But I couldn’t see myself ever getting used to this.”