She sat there, staring at the glass wall, the small planes sitting on the black tarmac, the bright lights, and the night sky over Zahkim.
What did she want in her heart? The words burst out. "I want to be happy with Arif."
"Well, good. Now who's this Arif guy?"
The story tumbled out even more disjointed than the one about the lost books. Once she got it out, her dad asked, "You tell him any of this? About how you feel?"
"No…no. And I should." Her pulse kicked up. "Knowledge doesn't do much good when it's kept back. Gotta go, Dad."
"Go get 'em, Tiger."
Ending the connection, she started back to the airport entrance. She'd take a taxi to the palace—could a taxi even get through the gates? Well, she'd call someone. Why had she never asked Arif for his cell phone number?
At this late hour, the airport wasn't crowded. A janitor looked up from moping the floor as she rushed past. A security guard watched her hurry down the concourse. She started out the door only to bump into Arif as he was trying to come inside.
He held out something wrapped in a brown cloth. "The books. Bian hid them, but Nasim discovered her trick. Take them for safekeeping for Zahkim. They are probably safer in your arms than anywhere else. I know I was…and I…" He stopped, pulled in a deep breath. "I love you, habibi. I don't want to say it. Even now, I feel as if I am tempting fate to take you from me, just as my parents were taken from me. But I've loved you from the moment I set eyes on you. You are my world—and I…ah, I've run out of words."
She clutched the books to her chest, her eyes stinging, her heart thudding. "I…I…you can make their loan to me a wedding gift. To me. To us."
"A what?" He stared at her.
The janitor had moved closer, and Christine was aware of the guard watching them. She wet her lips. "Ask me to marry you. Again. For the last time."
Arif's throat worked. She saw him gulp down a breath. Suddenly, she knew it mattered to him as it hadn't the first time he had asked. Fingers shaking, he took her right hand. The ring slipped off her finger as if it had never given her a problem. Arif slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. "Will you marry me, my maddening, sweet, troublesome, book-loving Christine? I fear it is the only way to keep these books in the kingdom, and for me to keep my head."
Standing on tiptoe, she wrapped one arm around his neck and kept the other tight around the books. "Oh, I lost mine long ago. But it's going to have to be on that auspicious day, and after my dad helps me publish on this."
Epilogue
Christine swayed to the smooth jazz playing. Her father twirled her once and then caught her. She frowned at him. "Dad, remember what the doctor said."
"Yeah, yeah, watch the exertion. But I am not missing the first dance at your wedding. Now tell me who is the old biddy glaring at us?" He swung her around so she could see Bian—now her Aunt Bian—sitting as far as she could from the reception in the garden, arms folded over her chest.
"That is Aunt Bian, and she thinks I'm not good enough for Arif—or for a royal bride." The breath hitched in Christine's chest. "Am I crazy?"
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Yep, that's how you know it's real love. I'm going to go over there to see if I can sweeten up the old sourpuss."
"Da-ad?"
"Come on, you know I was a hit with great-aunt Clemestra, and she didn't like anyone. Besides, your groom is headed this way, looking ready to behead me if I don't give you up." He twirled her again, then gave her hand to Arif.
Christine shook her head and let Arif put his arm around her. Next to the food, Nasim was trying to pick up one of her bridesmaids. Tess and Tarek joined them on the dance floor, Tess giving her a grin and wink. Arif's beard tickled Christine's ear, and she turned back to him.
"This dry climate is doing dad's respiratory problem a lot of good."
"I do not wish to t
alk about your father."
She tipped her head to one side. "Tarek and Tess look happy."
"I do not wish to talk about them either."
"My paper's kicked up a shitstorm back home—I've got a half-dozen defenders, and five times that many saying I'm following in my dad's footsteps with wild claims. And you know what? I don't care."
Arif grinned. "Nadira is already trying to forecast a date for us to conceive a child."
"Really, well, you can tell her we beat her to the punch."