The Sheikh's Captive American (Zahkim Sheikhs 1)

"Tonight we celebrate Zahkim's first steps into the future but we bring what is good from our past with us. As you know, a prophecy was spoken to me in my own past. I chose not to believe in such things. I see it differently now—what is a prophecy but a way of imagining the future? And I cannot imagine my future without the woman I love beside me."

Tess gulped down a breath. The crowd had stilled, and she did as well.

"My Ashira fell from the sky as was foretold. She saved me—and Zahkim—in her own way. But the part of the prophecy that matters most is that I, in turn, must fall as well. Fall deeply in love, far deeper than I believed possible. Such a love has led me to empathy for my people. And to find that I was a man who lived by reason, but without hope. With a mind, but without a heart. She led me to the truth—that there is more to this life than we can see or touch. And now, if you will have her, and if she will have me, I give you my future bride."

He turned to face her. He did not move, and Tess felt as if the entire world held its breath. Did she want this? To be a wife to this man?

She knew the cost—she would have to live here with him. He couldn't give up Zahkim any more than she could give up her music.

Her own song lyrics came back to her—and now my hopes are back to climbin', and someday again I'll fly.

With this man, she could fly. He'd take her to places she'd never know without him—maybe to heartache, but always to more than she could be without him.

Her throat tightened, and tears blurred the world to swirling colors, but her feet started moving without her asking.

When she reached his side, he took her hand and leaned close to whisper in her ear, his beard tickling, "Some say the world's all logic…I no longer say such a thing. Because of you. And I cannot lose you."

She pressed the back of her free hand to her nose and sniffled. "You make me cry now, and I'm going to end up looking like a raccoon with all that running mascara."

He smiled. "Then let’s do something else and shock the world." He swept her into his arms and into a kiss that rattled her down to her toes. Her skin tingled, her heart thudded into her ribs, and she wrapped an arm around his neck.

When he put her back on her feet, she swayed and glanced at the utterly silent crowd. Uh, oh—had he just lost his throne because of her and kissing her like that?

For another heartbeat, the crowd seemed shocked into silence, and then a shrill, "Yaaa!" erupted. Cheers and applause spread from the front to the back.

She leaned close to him. "Do we bow?"

He grinned, swept her into his arms and carried her off stage. "I have a better idea."

He got them to the car through the VIP section. After the door closed, Tess let out a breath "Your people like a good romance, don't they?"

"Our people now." He took her hand and kissed her palm.

Tess's skin went cold. "I'm going to be a queen?"

"A sheikha. My grandmother will be pleased. She loves weddings."

Tess sank lower in her seat, and then remembered what everyone had been saying about a celebration. "Hey, wait a minute, what is this festival really all about? And how did you manage to put it on? These things cost a fortune up front."

He smoothed his beard. "They do, but the royal treasury could afford it."

She stared at him. "You paid for it out of your own pocket?"

"To get you to return to Zahkim, I would have plucked a desert diamond from the sky itself. I didn't think an email, text, phone call or video conference would do the trick. And it didn’t do me any harm politically. If I am willing to do this for my people, my people—especially the wealthy—should be willing to do similar for their country."

Tess laughed. She wanted to jump up and turn cartwheels—he loved her. He'd done this for her—and to make some folks put up or shut up. "You're showing them the way. Nice move."

Moving closer, he put his arm around her waist. "As insightful as you are beautiful. When do we marry?"

She put her hand on his chest. "I love you, Tarek. And your country. And your people. But I have a new label to get up and running, and I've got to be in the recording studio in three weeks. I can't do all that and plan a wedding."

Tarek waved aside her excuses. "My grandmother will plan it. You will only have to approve or not, as you like. And work can start on a studio for you in the north wing of the palace." He started to pull her into a kiss.

She braced her palms on his chest. "Whoa, slow down there a touch. Are you making decisions for me?"

He cupped her cheek. "I may be a stubborn fool at times, but I am not an idiot." Leaning down, he put his mouth on hers. He pulled her closer and kissed her, slowly and carefully, as if exploring her mouth for the first time. She curled her fingers into the soft cloth of his robes, her body vibrating, as if fireworks were going off inside her.

The car came to a stop. Tarek opened the door and pulled her out. Inside the palace, instead of going up to his room, he kept going up the stairs, higher and higher, until a narrow door stood before them. He opened it and ushered her onto one of the turrets of the palace. She gasped at the view down to the festival and then looked up to the sky in time to see a falling star.