The Sheikh's Priceless Bride
“Ten thousand dollars,” I sighed in disbelief as I wandered toward the window, staring out at the street. Mere blocks away, I could see the market, where we’d eaten together only days before. “I could really use that ten thousand dollars.”
“And don’t forget, my net worth is in the billions…” he said, trailing off. His words sizzled with arrogance.
I flashed around, spinning back to face him. Without hesitation, I lifted my hand and reached for his. We shook on it, just like that, over the top of the desks between us. Instantly I felt grimy. But I felt that I was on a path toward saving my mother’s life.
“All right. Well. I guess I’ll send you some details…” Rami said, stepping back. His expensive shoe clacked on the floor. “Maybe that means I should get your number.”
“Right. Yes. Phone.” I lifted a pad of paper from my desk and wrote it out in scrawling handwriting, passing it toward him. “I’m not sure how all of this will work.”
“You can leave it up to me,” Rami said, giving me a wink that made my stomach stir. “But know that we’re going to have to see each other a bit more. My friend Alim will know something’s wrong if—”
“If we just get hitched, like that. I know,” I sighed, feeling the heaviness in my heart. I wanted to go lie down, but I knew I couldn’t. I was trapped.
“Right. Well, as long as you get it. You seem like a clever girl,” Rami said. He turned back toward the classroom door, giving me a salute. “I suppose I should start calling you a pet name, now. Angie-bear?”
“Don’t push it,” I said, finding a smile rush between my cheeks.
Moments later, he was gone, and I collapsed in the chair behind my desk, allowing my forehead to fall toward my hands. I heard the clatter of feet at the door and looked up, finding Rita there, watching me. She sniffed, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses.
“That man was here again,” she said brashly.
“He was,” I replied, suddenly wanting to put as much distance between us as possible.
“Have you dated much in Al-Jarra?” she asked me, leaning further into my classroom. Her hair was frizzy, swirling toward her shoulders. “Because the culture, it’s completely different. You’re going to want to be aware…”
“It’s not really… I mean, we’re not really dating,” I told her, knowing full well that I would have to come clean about the engagement very soon. “He’s just a guy.”
“They always start out as just guys,” Rita told me, “until suddenly…”
“I’d better get going for the day, Rita,” I sighed, dragging myself up from the desk and pushing past her into the corridor. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Just let me know if anything’s wrong,” Rita told me, calling down the hall. “You know I’m here for you.”
But I couldn’t even tell her what was going on with my family. I couldn’t bring any of the worlds together in my mind.
I blasted out into the sunshine and raced around the corner, finding the path toward my apartment. When I couldn’t sprint any longer, I placed my hands on my knees and let myself fall to the ground. When I caught my breath, I realized I had a text message from Rami.
“Let me know your bank details when you can,” it read. “And thanks for doing me this huge favor. You don’t know how much grief I’d get from Alim if I lost you.”
If he lost me. The words echoed through my brain. There was nothing between us to lose. And yet, in his little world, without cancer and without tumors and without oceans between him and his family, he was allowed to worry about such drivel. What a scandal. How stupid.
And here I was, at the center of it all.
Chapter 8
Rami
I met up with Alim the following morning, catching him in the corner of the little coffee shop between our penthouses. The place was bustling, filled with gorgeous women who studied me with interest. I nodded to them instinctively, still unaccustomed to the fact that I was going to get married—married!—to a woman I barely knew, all for a bet. Whatever. I was sure I’d done crazier things.