This affair seemed a smaller event than Khalid’s wedding had been, with just relatives attending, if you went by the robes and traditional garb. The guest settled into clumps—no chairs had been set out, and Casey figured it was about time for the wedding to start. She took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her stomach, which was currently doing back flips. She was probably going to end up in jail again, but she’d thought ahead this time and had emailed Luke in advance to warn him she was going to need his help getting out of Sharjah. She’d also blasted him for publishing her background material without so much as a heads up—no one ever won a Pulitzer for fluff travel pieces.

One of the other women standing next to her nudged her arm and said something in Arabic. She was going to guess that was a hint to get moving. Wetting her lips and staring at the carpet design, she started forward.

Zaid had entered from the other side of the room. She could tell that from the flutter of movement and the creak of a door. Sneaking another glance, she saw he’d gone for full traditional dress—flowing robes, headscarf and like her, he seemed to prefer to keep his head down. Great—neither of them really wanted this. She was doing more than a favor for Fadiyah, she was probably saving the girl from a lifetime of misery.

And then something caught her eye.

For a moment, she thought…oh, but no, that was just her mind playing tricks. She was seeing Khalid’s broad shoulders and his athletic movement under Zaid’s robes because she wanted to.

She’d been such a fool.

She’d known from the start that Khalid was a playboy—a man who didn’t want to settle down. But she’d gone ahead and slept with him. She’d thought she could keep it all fun and games. Instead, he’d not just rocked her world—he’d rocked her heart. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but when he was so upset about having his father’s approval for their engagement, she had realized the truth. He didn’t love her. He never had. She was just one more girl he had taken to bed. She was just a fling.

The truth had hurt.

Well, she was done with him and with this whole country. She was getting Fadiyah out of this jam of an arranged marriage to Zaid and then she was out of here—that was, if she wasn’t in jail.

Staring down at her red and gold robes, she thought she’d never worn anything so lovely. Her heart tightened. She’d always thought her wedding dress would be white, but now she thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful. It was going to be a shame to have to change it for prison garb.

When she reached the front of the room, she stopped and stood still, her heart hammering. Zaid had reached her side. She peaked up at him from under her lashes and her veil, but she couldn’t see more than his shadowed face—his headscarf hid his features. The cleric started to speak—and Casey wished now she’d brushed up on Arabic weddings. Was she married now or at the end? Did she pull off her veil now and blow this up? She wanted to wait as long as she could to give Fadiyah and Hazim time to get as far away as they could, but she also didn’t want to end up as Zaid’s bride.

She started to count. At twenty, she’d pull off her veil and face whatever came next.

Instead, when she hit ten, the man standing next to her straightened and pulled off his headscarf—and Casey stared up at Khalid’s face, not Zaid’s.

Khalid pulled off his keffiyeh and turned to face those gathered. He heard the gasps and the muttered curse from his father. Mehmood stood and shot an accusing finger at Khalid and started to demand what trick this was. Khalid knew that Ahmed had spirited Zaid from the palace after slipping sleeping tablets into Zaid’s tea this morning. At least his father would not be able to prop up a confused Zaid and insist this wedding continuing.

But he was under no illusions about his fate—his father would most likely disown him. However, that did not seem to matter. Not when he feared he had lost Casey.

He had never thought love could happen so fast, but it seemed that with him it had. When she had pull

ed off the ring he had given her, he realized then that he was in love with her. He had seen the tears glinting in her eyes and they had torn into him as nothing ever had.

But she would not listen to him. Perhaps she would listen after this—she must. That was assuming his father did not throw him into prison.

Glancing around the room, Khalid raised his voice and said, “I am sorry, but this wedding cannot continue. I am not Zaid and I know Mehmood will not have me for a son-in law.”

The sultan stepped forward from the crowd. “Khalid, you dare make a mockery of this ceremony?” The room seemed to be buzzing with whispers and gasps and shocked laughter.

Raising his hands, Khalid said, “The mockery is in the arrangement. This woman loves another man, yet is being asked to give up her happiness and for what? For nothing more than an alliance? One that could easily be worked out on paper. This makes no sense. Everyone, thank you for attending, but once again, you will not be witnessing a wedding. It is one thing to arrange a marriage when the bride and groom are agreeable to such a thing. But to force a woman into a marriage she does not desire will dishonor my family with a partnership based on lies. My father sees tradition. I see injustice. I will honor traditions when it is wise to do so, but when tradition threatens only sorrow, I must do what I can to change the way of things. Father, we must look to the future—and our future is one best served by undoing what is unjust.”

Mehmood’s face reddened. He sputtered. Khalid kept his stare on his father’s face. The sultan was frowning, but had not ordered Khalid to be dragged from the room. Nor had he asked where Zaid was. Both were good signs.

Khalid started to relax, and then the woman standing next to him pulled back her veil. Gasps echoed around the room. Khalid turned and stared down at Casey’s face and her bright, blue eyes. “I guess now is the time I should explain I’m not Fadiyah.”

“Where is my daughter? What have you done with her?” Mehmood demanded. He stormed forward.

The sultan lifted a hand. “I think it is time to take this to my office. Khalid, you and your…that American follow me. Mehmood, you will come as well. Everyone else, please wait and I will arrange for refreshments to be sent in.”

Turning, the sultan strode away, his robes swirling.

Khalid turned to Casey and held out a hand. “I thought I told you I had this handled.”

She smiled at him, but the expression seemed hard. “Seems we had the same idea.” Pushing past him, she followed the sultan. And Khalid couldn’t help but frown—she had not taken her hand.

Once the door to the sultan’s study closed, the sultan faced Khalid. “Explain this farce.”

Khalid shrugged. “Did you not choose your own wife, my mother? But you expect others to accept your choices in all things. Zaid was willing to do this, but once I learned that Fadiyah’s heart belongs to another, I could not allow her life to be ruined.”

Tags: Leslie North Sharjah Sheikhs Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net