The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be(11)

Steph glanced down at her elaborate dress. Compared to Mehdi's casual  outfit, she definitely felt silly, even if her surroundings were  appropriate for a ceremony of some kind.



"It does feel strange, to be in this gown with nothing to show for it."



"Perhaps you would like a change of clothing?" he said.



"You keep women's clothing on hand for just an occasion such as this?" she asked with a skeptical brow.



Mehdi laughed. "Steph, it's the palace of El Farah. I'm not the only  person who's lived here. My parents had many dignitaries visit, and they  housed many people for a variety of reasons. It is always pertinent to  have spare clothing around. At the palace, anything can happen, and it  has."



Steph thought about anything happening at the palace, and her thoughts  turned to Mehdi's lips before she gave herself a mental shake. Obviously  being in a wedding gown was not helping the direction of her thoughts.



"I would be grateful for a change of clothing, yes," she said.



"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.



Her makeup was still perfect, but it seemed a little much for the simple  outfit. She carefully unpinned her hair until it was in a curly  ponytail and washed a layer of makeup off. By the time she was done, she  looked perfectly suited for a late afternoon lunch rather than the  wedding she was meant to be at.



Another rush of guilt shot through her, but she pressed it down. Steph  was allowed to enjoy her own life, and she had never before done  anything she'd truly wanted to do. In this moment, what she wanted was  to be with Mehdi, enjoying his company in a country she was still  getting to know. Who better to get the details from than the ruling  monarch himself?



As she finished cleaning herself up, there was a knock at the door.  Steph walked over to answer and found a young woman there, who bowed.



"His Majesty has sent me to guide you in the right direction, miss," she said, her voice slightly accented.



Steph nodded, smiling, before she looked down and realized she didn't  have proper shoes. The young woman took notice of the direction of her  gaze and entered the room, opening a drawer at the bottom of the armoire  and showing Steph the selection there. Steph picked out a delicate pair  of flats and slid them on before following the young woman out of the  room and down several corridors.



Mehdi hadn't been wrong. The palace was showy in a way that didn't suit  his personality at all. Steph wondered what it would take to make some  changes, though of course that was far beyond any decisions she could  make. The woman opened a veranda door which led to a small, shaded  courtyard. There, Mehdi was enjoying a cool drink as he sat at the  table, and when he saw her he stood.



"That looks far more comfortable," he said, his eyes taking her in.



Steph blushed again beneath his stare, but she smiled. "Thanks for  giving me access to your collection. Everything was so beautiful. It was  difficult to find something I liked most."



"You have chosen admirably," he said, gesturing for her to sit down, which she did, thanking the girl who had guided her there.



"Are you hungry?" Mehdi asked, and she nodded.



"I couldn't stomach food all day, but now that things have relaxed a bit, I could eat a horse!"



"Well that is barbaric," Mehdi said, appalled, and Steph laughed.



"It's just an expression; don't worry. Anyway, wasn't it you telling me  not to question the meat I was eating just the other day?"         

     



 



Mehdi grinned. "That was because I knew it was regular old beef, but I wanted to see if you'd dare to try it."



"Did you think I'd chicken out?"



"You? Never." Mehdi laughed, taking another sip of his drink. "Do you like punch?" he asked.



Steph nodded. "As much as anyone, I suppose. Why?"



"You must try this. It's made with fruit which is only grown here in El  Farah. It doesn't travel very well, which is why you've likely never  tried it, but it is delicious."



Steph reached for the ornate goblet in front of her and took a sip of  the red punch. Her eyes widened at the taste. It was sweet, citrusy, and  delicious. It was the perfect thing to calm her nerves after a couple  of stressful days.



"This is outstanding!" she said, and Mehdi smiled, satisfied.



"We'll also be having a lunch of all of El Farah's traditional dishes,  so I can introduce you to anything your mother might have missed in your  education of your heritage."



Steph grinned. "I can't wait," she said, taking another sip of punch.  "So what do you do, as the sheikh? I'm surprised you have enough free  time to kidnap unsuspecting women from their arranged marriages."