The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be
“Wonderful. I can show you to one of our guest rooms. Right this way.”
Mehdi started down a long, shimmering hallway, and Steph fell into step with him, finally taking the time to observe her surroundings. The walls were white, like the exterior, and they were loaded with ancient portraits, colorful tapestries and rugs.
“These are amazing,” Steph said, taking in all the art.
Mehdi glanced around, nodding nonchalantly. “Yes, I suppose so. These pieces of art have been in my family for generations. The whole palace has, actually. El Farah, if you haven’t noticed, is really big on tradition, history, and family loyalty. It is because of this that the palace has remained unchanged for many centuries. We update it, of course, when the gold starts to get weathered, but generally the place looks exactly as it did when my ancestors lived here.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Steph said.
Mehdi shrugged. “I think tradition certainly has a place, but I’m not the same man as my great-great-grandfather. Why would I want to live in a palace coated in gold? It’s a waste of resources, and the upkeep is atrocious. I don’t want our tax dollars going toward something like this.”
“Do the people agree with you? Perhaps you could use popular vote to create that change.”
Mehdi frowned. “They do not. As I said, tradition is a big part of our culture. The people like the palace the way it is. They want it to look like this for their grandchildren and beyond. I’m afraid any children I may have will have to endure the level of exorbitance this castle provides.”
Steph was surprised to hear a sheikh speak in such a way about his palace. Mehdi seemed to like things simple, even as he complicated her own life with wild, spontaneous gestures like a secret limo kidnapping. He was an enigma, a puzzle she wanted to pick apart and solve.
They reached the end of the hallway and Mehdi opened a door on the left. The room was expansive, but Steph hesitated before going in.
“What is it?” Mehdi asked.
She blushed. “I just… I’ll need a little help getting out of this dress.”
“Oh,” Mehdi said, clearing his throat.
“Not a lot! Just the buttons on the back.”
They paused for a moment before Mehdi nodded and she turned her back to him. Steph felt a searing heat as his fingers brushed lower and lower down her back, pulling each button from its loop, before stopping right at the base. She took a bracing breath, trying to calm herself as she turned back to him with a sheepish smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
Mehdi’s expression was unreadable, but in that moment Steph was sure he was fighting the urge to kiss her, too. After a pause, he stepped back toward the hallway.
“No problem. You’ll find spare clothing in the armoire by the bed. I’ll have someone come get you in a bit. I imagine you haven’t eaten yet?”
“I have not,” Steph agreed, stepping inside her room.
“Good. I’ll have something delicious prepared. See you soon,” he said, nodding to her before turning and walking briskly in the opposite direction.
Steph watched him go once again, and she couldn’t believe her life.
She was in a palace, with the Sheikh!
EIGHT
Steph
The room Steph was in was all high, arching ceilings and tasteful furniture. The dome theme continued, the room arching over her like a sand-colored rainbow, curling over a large, comfortable-looking bed. Her back still tingled where Mehdi had touched her. Knowing now that he had servants, she wondered why he hadn’t sent a maid in to help her instead of taking on the task of undressing her himself. She decided not to think about it, lest she get any more ideas in her head. The man was a king, for heaven’s sake. There was no way she could entertain a relationship with him. He probably had an arranged marriage himself!
Allowing her dress to fall to the floor, Steph padded across the room in her slip to the spectacularly large armoire Mehdi had mentioned, tossing the doors open and taking a look inside. The clothing was splendid. There were many variations of sizes, and Steph poked through until she found a pale yellow dress and a white cardigan—simple, just as she liked it. She slid into the dress before turning toward the mirror.