The Sheikh's Pretend Fiancée (The Sharif Sheikhs 1)

1

The sun lit up the kitchen, making the slowly moving older woman into a shadow of her former self. Liyah watched quietly from her spot in the doorway as Sahaar dutifully stirred the pot of boiling water on the stove. Sahaar was different than Liyah remembered from the last time she had been here. Five years ago, her exchange family had been bubbly and laughing. There had always been something happening in the small household, and whether filled with music or peals of laughter, the house had never been quiet.

With the exception of the bubbly sound of the simmering water, the house was achingly quiet. Liyah’s exchange-mother had lost her husband several years earlier, and the sadness was still etched into Sahaar's face. Her skin was drawn and paler than Liyah remembered, and the older woman moved as though she were trudging through sand.

Liyah was only too sorry that she hadn’t learned of Ibrahim’s death until after the funeral arrangements. Not that she would have been able to fly back and see them—she’d been in over her head studying for her finals, but she would have found a way to communicate with Sahaar, even all the way from Connecticut.

Straightening, Sahaar suddenly turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Liyah! What are you doing? You should be resting after such a long trip.”

Liyah had only flown into Dubai twelve hours ago, and the plane trip, as usual, had been grueling. Despite craving the excitement of an exotic city, Liyah was still uncomfortable around crowds. “I’ve been resting,” she said with a warm smile as she enveloped her exchange-mother in a hug. “Let me help.”

During her senior year of high school, Liyah had been afforded the opportunity to join a studies abroad program for three months. Living with her single mother, Liyah had never even been outside her state, and she couldn’t resist the call to adventure. The trip had been mesmerizing, and Sahaar and Ibrahim had made her feel right at home. Now, five years later, she knew she had to return—if for no other reason than to step out of her comfort zone once again while she decided what to do with the rest of her life.

“You’ve come here to relax and enjoy yourself,” Sahaar chided. “You did not come here to wait on me. Now go, go, go.”

It was nice to have someone fuss over her, but Liyah wanted to help Sahaar as much as Sahaar had helped her five years ago. “Yes, but this time I am not your exchange student. I am a guest in your home, and I will help out, even if I have to annoy you to do it!”

A small smile crinkled over Sahaar's face as she gave in and handed Liyah a knife to slice the pita on the counter. While she set the oven, the older women swept critical eyes over Liyah. “You’ve lost weight,” she fussed. “Please tell me that you have not been on one of those ridiculous Western diets that all you drink is dandelion tea and lemon slices.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Liyah said with a chuckle. “And I assure you, I have not been dieting.” She didn’t point out that Sahaar herself had lost some weight.

“Then it is stress, and that will simply not do,” Sahaar declared. “Mila has been here three months. Took like a duck to water; she’ll bring you around. You should be having fun at your age,” the older woman assured her, eyes on the boiling pot of chickpeas. Liyah licked her lips at the thought of homemade hummus. For five years, she had tried the store-bought brands, and she had even tried making it herself, but for some reason, it didn’t compare to Sahaar's delicious dip. Between that and the moujedhra, Liyah might never leave.

As if the independent woman had heard them talking about her, Mila threw open the door and rushed in. Liyah barely had time to brace herself before her old friend wrapped her in a b

ear hug. “You’re here!” Mila shrieked in her ear.

“Of course I’m here,” Liyah laughed. “You picked me up from the airport!”

“Yes, but you were half-dead, and I was afraid that if I hugged you too tightly, you’d just pass out. And then you were sleeping, and then I had to go to work—but now I can greet you properly!” Mila released her and took a step back to eye her critically, and Liyah knew that her friend was seeing her the same way that Sahaar did.

It wasn’t that she meant to lose the weight. It was just that her life wasn’t exactly following the plans that she’d so carefully laid out for herself four years ago when she’d started college. She had met Mila during her previous trip to Dubai, and Mila had always planned to return. Even though the past five years had separated them, she and Mila had kept in touch, and it was Mila who’d suggested that she take some time and return to Dubai where the temperature was hot enough and the sights gorgeous enough to steal her breath away.

It hadn’t taken much arm-twisting.

“Are you rested?”

“Rested enough to be bothering me,” Sahaar complained with a smile. “Mila, won’t you please take her out of here so she can have some fun? I want to see a bronze sheen on that pale skin and hear some laughter in that girl’s voice.”

“You heard her,” Mila said, her whole face lighting up. “Come on. We’ll walk through the market bazaar. They’ve got the most gorgeous things there, today.”

“They have the most gorgeous things there every day,” Liyah laughed, but she grabbed her bag from the counter. “Sahaar, we can go later, if you want me to finish helping you here.”

“Nonsense. You two young ladies have fun, and this hummus will be ready and waiting for you when you return!”

There were no other excuses, so Liyah quietly followed Mila out. It was a quick walk to the main road where Mila expertly hailed a cab. The driver greeted them with an enthusiastic grin, probably hoping that they were just tourists who wouldn’t know if he took the long way around. Mila exchanged a small smile with Liyah and gave him specific instructions to their destination.

Happy to let Mila take charge, Liyah settled back and tried to get comfortable on the hot leather. It would appear that most of the cabs here still didn’t have air conditioning.

As though her friend knew that she was still getting acclimated, Mila talked a mile a minute about what she’d been doing for the past three months. “The lounge is obviously not my dream job, but it helps me get to know the locals,” she chattered. “Plus, it’s been great to catch up on the gossip. My language skills are still a bit rusty, but when they discover that you’re American, they assume that you don’t know it at all and speak freely in front of you. Girl, I have heard the most salacious stories.”

Mila’s giggle was infectious, and even Liyah cracked a smile. After leaving the cab, Liyah tried to relax as they walked through the marketplace. Everything felt so alive. Men and women alike talked over each other, some excitedly and others in intense haggling with the merchants. Smells mingled in the air from the sweet fragrances of perfumes to the tangy aromas of spices. For a moment, she felt a little lost. The marketplace was so vibrant and loud, and she felt so small. Vaguely, she realized that Mila was asking her a question. “Hm?”

“I was asking what kind of job you were hoping to get here. Liyah, you must tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t like you at all.”

Liyah looked away from her friend, pretending to be interested in a table full of jewelry. “Nothing is wrong. I was just admiring the craftsmanship of this bracelet,” she lied, and she picked up smooth silver links attaching blue and green crystals.

Not so much a lie, after all. The bracelet was beautiful, held against her wrist. She looked up to meet the salesman’s beaming smile. It was something that she could afford—but she needed to save her money in case it took her longer than she’d first thought to find work. She shook her head—with a regretful smile for the merchant’s sake—and put the bracelet down, taking Mila’s arm to resume walking. “I’m going to start with the local libraries. Even if I can’t get a job there, I might be able to find some tutoring positions, either for English or literature studies.”

Mila reached out and grabbed her hand. “Liyah, I want to help you, but I’m not sure what to do.”