The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

Was she being ungrateful, behaving in this way? She had a right to have doubts, didn’t she?

The elevator dinged once it reached the top, and Steph released the breath she’d been holding as she stepped into the hallway. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, then; walking all over the city, jet lag, and a new time zone made for a bad combination, and without Mehdi to distract her she suddenly felt as though she could curl up on the floor and fall asleep right there.

With heavy steps, she made her way to the door. She leaned forward on her toes and slid the key gently into the lock. The light turned from red to green, and when she opened the door, there was a loud clap that echoed across her nerves. The door groaned as she slowly pushed it forward, stepping in and closing it quickly to keep out the light.

Steph tiptoed into the living room, which was swathed in darkness save for the glow from the streetlights outside. She breathed as lightly as she could, staying on her toes as she moved closer to her own bedroom, glad to have chosen one across the way from her parents.

She was nearly at her bedroom door when a light clicked on behind her and she stopped cold. She turned slowly to see her mother sitting on the living room sofa, one hand still hanging on to the lamp string as her dark eyes stared daggers at her daughter.

Staring back defiantly at her mother, Steph felt anything but brave. Still, she had to defend herself for once in her life, for if she didn’t do it now, she might never again get the chance. Taking a deep breath, she said the one thing she had thought she’d never have the courage to say.

“I’m not getting married tomorrow.”

SIX

Steph

Elora’s stare was unmoved as Steph shifted beneath her fiery gaze. She had never been able to stand up to her mother. The woman was a stone wall when she wanted to be.

“Come sit down, Stephanie. Let’s have a talk.”

While her voice was even and calm, her tone sent lava-hot fear down Steph’s spine. She knew she was in trouble when her mother used that tone.

Not knowing what else to do, Steph finally made her way to the living room and sat across from her mother, who was looking at her with well-hidden rage.

“You will be getting married tomorrow.”

“I told you that’s not going to be the case,” Steph said.

“Listen to me, and listen to me well. I have been sitting on this sofa for six hours waiting for you to come home. Six. Hours. You left me to wonder if you were alive or dead, if you’d run away and would never return, any number of terrible possibilities, and I wouldn’t have known what had happened to you because you refused to answer your phone. After all this, you come home to tell me you’re not going through with the marriage we arranged for you. What do you think I plan to do about that?”

Steph quivered at her mother’s words, a trickle of guilt dripping down over her entitled anger. She hadn’t meant to make her mother worry. She’d just wanted a moment of freedom before she was cast into a marriage she hadn’t chosen for herself.

“I’m not getting married,” she said again, though her voice shook.

Her mother stared her down, but Steph maintained eye contact, not willing to look away.

“Mom, an arranged marriage isn’t what I want. I want to fall in love with a man that I choose, not you.”

Her mind swept to Mehdi—his kind smile, his teasing manner, all of it. He was exactly the man she had pictured marrying in her dreams. Why should she be forced to do otherwise?

“You think I wanted to be married to your father?” Elora hissed.

Steph’s eyes widened in shock. Her mother had never used that tone with her, ever. It was clear she was whispering to keep her father from waking up, but the venom behind it was all too real.

“He was a foreign man with no knowledge of my culture or upbringing. I didn’t want to marry him at all. I was in love with another man. Still, I did my duty by my parents, and I am glad I did.”

Her expression softened a little, even as anger bubbled beneath the surface.

“It took some time, but I eventually fell in love with your father. He is a kind and loving man, and he deserves to be loved back in the same way. So, too, you will find love. I understand why you ran away, and I don’t blame you for that. I blame you for letting me sit here and worry, but I do not blame you for your fears.”