Chosen as the Sheikh's Royal Bride - Page 35

So why didn’t he just announce Laila’s name, already? Just say it, she thought fiercely, her whole body tense as she blinked back tears.

“I choose...” Omar took a deep breath. “Dr. Beth Farraday.”

She froze, stunned, unbelieving. The crowd behind her screamed with joy.

For a shocked moment, a wave of happiness went through her, greater than she’d ever known.

Then her blood turned to ice, as she realized what she’d done.

CHAPTER FIVE

STANDING ON THE platform at the top of the palace steps, Omar heard his vizier’s furious hiss. “Sire!”

Turning, Omar said flatly, “The choice is mine.”

Khalid’s face was dark with fury. “But the council chose Laila!”

They had. Unanimously. A situation so unusual it was no wonder, even now, that Omar heard the members of the council muttering darkly around them.

He had grimly planned to accept their advice, and announce Laila’s name. Though he couldn’t imagine taking any woman to his bed, or having any other woman at his side, but Beth.

Looking down from the palace steps, he saw her, and sucked in his breath.

Black kohl lined Beth’s eyes, her lips were a slash of scarlet, and her hair was veiled in the traditional headdress. So different. So familiar. She looked like everything he’d ever wanted. He’d felt a sharp pain in his throat as he opened his mouth, trying to force himself to speak a different woman’s name.

Then a miracle had happened.

He heard his people shouting Beth’s name. Chanting it to the rhythm of the blood rushing through his veins.

“Beth! Beth!” his people had begged.

And his heart had stopped.

Was he king, or not?

Beth was right, he suddenly realized. Whatever his council advised, he was choosing more than a queen today. He was choosing a wife. A lover.

He wanted Beth. And if the only thing that stood between them now was her career, so be it.

She could keep it.

“Dr. Beth Farraday,” he’d heard himself say, and his people had gone crazy with joy.

“Why?” Khalid ground out now.

Narrowing his eyes, Omar said in a voice that would brook no opposition, “Because I want her.”

His viz

ier’s jaw tightened. “But she’ll never give up her career.”

“I know.” Omar’s voice was clipped.

Khalid’s eyes widened in shock. Then he bowed, still radiating resentment.

It was no wonder Khalid was still pushing Omar to marry Laila. After all, Hassan al-Abayyi was a second father to him. Khalid had grown up in their house, after losing his parents.

But surely, Omar thought wrathfully, it would be best for Samarqara if he married a woman he actually wished to bed? A woman who would clearly be an excellent wife and mother? A woman whom his people already adored?

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