Fated Lovers (Sold To The Sheikh 2)

“You’re getting married today,” Karima said. “That is a big deal to me!”

Mia giggled. “I already have a baby; all it’s going to change is legal stuff. Nothing is going to change in the way Rami and I feel about each other.”

“Look at her hands shaking,” Becky said. “She’s not as cool and above-it-all as she’s trying to make us believe.”

“Shut up, Becky!” Mia half-opened an eye to pin down her friend with a mock-serious glare.

“Someone bring a glass of champagne for the bride, please,” Karima said from several feet away, and Mia assumed she must be addressing the friends and family gathered outside of the room.

After a few moments, Mia felt her chair being spun around, and someone put a cold glass stem in her hand.

“You can open your eyes now, Mia,” the makeup artist told her.

Mia took a breath and opened her eyes. She was looking at the mirror, and the sight that greeted her was at once so startling and so familiar that she almost dropped the champagne glass. Mia turned her head one way and then the other, taking in all the details that had gone into preparing her for the day ahead.

The hair and makeup gown covering her shoulders did nothing to diminish the work of the two aestheticians. Looking in the mirror, Mia’s eyes began to well up with tears at just how beautiful she looked, even to herself. “Oh God, someone get me a Kleenex before I ruin this makeup.”

The makeup artist laughed. “Sweetie, you’re going to need an industrial solvent to ruin that makeup,” she told Mia, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ve got it set on there good—it ain’t budging.” Mia met the woman’s gaze in the mirror and smiled her gratitude.

Initially, Mia had wanted to do her own hair and makeup for the wedding, but Rami had insisted that she should at least have a little bit of luxury on one of “the most important days of your life.” As she admired the results of the women’s work, Mia had to admit that she appreciated it. She had also insisted that her small bridal party should also have a chance to look and feel glamorous. They had all gone before her, so that they could be ready before the bigger effort of Mia’s hairstyling and makeup was underway.

“All right,” Becky said, nodding to Karima. “I think it’s about time we got the bride in her dress, don’t you?”

Mia took a deep breath and stood, knocking back half a glass of champagne before she let her maid of honor and bridesmaids lead her to the corner of the room where her dress waited. She had almost argued with Rami about the dress, arguing that since the wedding was taking place so much after the fact of them having a child together—contrary to the traditional order of things—a simple, off-the-rack dress from a department store would be fine.

Rami had received valuable backup from Amie and Karima on his position that Mia should still wear a white or off-white dress for the ceremony. Both women had insisted that while they didn’t mind Mia choosing a fairly simple dress, they were not going to see her “married in something off of a mannequin at Macy’s.” Mia had, under their supervision, tried on dresses at a small bridal store.

As her bridesmaids helped her slide out of the robe and into her dress, Mia had to admit that there was something exciting about it. The gown had a halter neck, with cream-colored fabric as its base. The hem was trimmed in dark green, with the halter neck edged in the same color. Mia was tingling all over. She never would have admitted it to her friends, but she was secretly glad that they had convinced her to buy a gown that was actually intended for a wedding. If it weren’t for the fact that Rami was starting to make a little more money now, and wasn’t going to have to go into debt to pay for the ceremony and reception, Mia never would have let anyone convince her not to go the cheapest possible route.

They had actually managed to put together the simple wedding for much less money than Rami had intended to spend. Mia had curtailed some of his more costly ideas, pointing out that they didn’t have the budget for it. Rami, who had only rarely been used to having any kind of budget or constraint on his spending, sometimes forgot and went back to his old ways. They had saved money primarily by being selective about whom they invited. Rami had much more extended family than Mia, and there were some relatives who had resented being left out, but most of those who hadn’t been asked to attend understood that it was a matter of money more than lack of desire to have them there.

More than once, Mia had put forward the idea that they could just elope, but Rami and his mother had both insisted that there be some small amount of ceremony, some small reception at the very least.

“The flowers are looking great,” Becky told Mia as they finished tying sashes and straightening her train behind her. Becky’s gift to the couple had been organising all of the floral arrangements for the ceremony and the reception—her sister owned a flower shop, and she had insisted that since she could get “the family rate,” it would be her pleasure to make sure the flowers were as nice as anyone could afford.

With her bouquet in hand, Mia and her bridesmaids moved to the position they had been told to wait in. Mia’s heart pounded in her chest; she could hear the guests just starting to settle down in anticipation of the event. Even though she knew there were fewer than fifty people inside the chapel where she would soon wed Rami, it seemed, from the sounds, like there were five hundred. Mia heard the music start up, and all at once the room went quiet. One after the other, her bridal party went in. Mia tried not to fidget, telling herself that there was nothing to be nervous about. After all, it was just family and friends; when the ceremony was over she and Rami would love each other the same as they always had.

A few seconds later it was time for Mia to make her appearance. The music for the bridal party cut out, and Mia stepped up to the closed door, swallowing against the tight feeling in her throat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for her cue to enter. She remembered the evening before—the rehearsal—and nearly convulsed in laughter at the memory of Rami rolling around on the floor, “practicing what to do in case someone gets lit on fire.” Mia pushed down the mirth she felt, forcing her face into serious—if joyful—lines. The music started up again and Mia took one final breath before the doors opened.

She had expected that the guests would turn to look at her when she made her entrance and began walking down the aisle, but she hadn’t anticipated just how she would feel with their affectionate, pleased gazes on her. Beginning to feel flustered, Mia looked up at the altar, and spotted Rami, who was watching her intently as she made her way down the aisle. As she moved closer to him, Mia realized that he looked absolutely stunning; the green accents on his expertly tailored tuxedo matched the trim on her dress exactly. When she was close enough to see his face clearly, Mia saw tears running down his cheeks, making his expression of complete and utter adoration all the more powerful.