The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be(9)

She wondered where Mehdi was. He was probably in a comfortable bed  somewhere, fast asleep, moving on with his life. But what if he wasn't?  What if he was thinking of her, and the life they could have had  together were it not for her impending marriage? She held out her hand,  the one he had touched, and stared at it as the wind danced between her  fingers.         

     



 



El Farah really was a beautiful place. She could see in that moment how  she could find a home here. She just didn't want to make it with the  wrong man.



Sighing, she turned back inside, shutting the door and changing into  pajamas before sinking into her comfortable bed. She imagined what it  would be like to have Mehdi's strong arms around her, holding her tight,  and she fell asleep to the fantasy of becoming his wife in the morning.



Anything was possible, right?





SEVEN



Steph





Steph heard muted voices outside her door.



She kept her eyes closed, breathing deeply as she lingered in her  dreamlike state, comfortably settled in Mehdi's embrace. Then reality  entered her mind, and her stomach dropped.



She was getting married today.



Steph blinked a few times, feeling paralyzed. Perhaps if she never left  her bed, they would forget she was in here and not make her go through  with it. Perhaps pigs had already learned how to fly.



There was nothing for it. Steph would have to face her fate, and  whatever happened would happen. She had to find the courage to believe  that the man she was to marry would be a good fit for her. She had  hardly given him any credit, constantly assuming the worst, always  looking at the negative. What if, for once, she allowed herself to feel  excited at the prospect of meeting her husband for the first time? What  if she gave him a chance, even without knowing him?



Rising from bed, Steph padded to the door and opened it to find her  mother sitting with a couple other women, deep in conversation. When she  stepped into the living room, all eyes turned to her.



"And this must be the lucky lady!" one of them said, rising, with sparkles in her eyes.



Both women stood as Steph walked in. They looked elated, as though their  own daughter were getting married to a rich and handsome man. One of  them approached her and grasped her hand affectionately. Her hair was  very curly, and it stood out from her head at least half a foot.



"We're your wedding planners from the El Farah side of the family. I'm  your mother's cousin, Anouk, and this is my daughter, Shivika. We're  here to make sure everything is all set for the big moment!"



Shivika stepped forward and grasped Steph's other hand. Steph blinked at  them both, not knowing what to say. After a pause, they both burst into  laughter.



"Isn't it funny how scared they always look, Elora? My dear girl, I  assure you, your mother has chosen well. I have personally met the man  you are about to marry, and he is perfectly lovely."



Steph perked up at that piece of information. Perhaps if her parents  weren't willing to tell her about her fiancé, then these new cousins of  hers would.



"Do tell me more! What does he look like? What does he do for a living?"



Anouk wagged her finger at Steph, releasing her grip and rejoining Elora  on the sofa. Shivika followed suit, gesturing for Steph to sit across  from them.



"Ah-ah, we will not be the ones to give anything away. We would be  breaking with centuries of custom if we did that, my dear. Now, come  join us and we can talk about how we're going to fix your hair for the  ceremony, yes?"



Steph listened with limited attention as her cousins went on and on  about hairstyles that would go perfectly with the tiara her mother had  given her. She gazed out at the desert and the sea, wishing she were  sitting on the shore rather than listening to new family members drone  on about twisting her hair one way or another.



"Steph, are you paying attention? This is important."



Her mother's voice made her jump, and she brought her attention back to the room.



"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I'm just … excited."



While she thought she was unconvincing, Shivika and Anouk accepted her  apology and quickly pressed on before they were suddenly at her side and  shoving her back into her bedroom.



"You'll want to get a good shower in, and make sure you give your hair a thorough wash. It looks a little greasy this morning."



"But-" Steph began to protest, but to no avail. Shivika pushed her all  the way into the bathroom before she was able tell the woman she was  perfectly capable of taking it from there.         

     



 



"I'm sure you are on a regular day, but I can see you are distracted by  your excitement. If we have to wash your hair for you, we'll do it!"



"I think I can manage," Steph grumbled, shutting the door behind her and staring at her resigned reflection in the mirror.



She was doing this to make her parents happy. They had been good to her  all her life, and they only wanted what was best for her. Sometime in  the night she had finally come to terms with the fact that this wedding  would take place and she would be married by the day's end.



Stepping into the shower, Steph took her time soaping up and washing her  hair, standing under the heat of the water for far longer than was  necessary. Finally, her mother knocked on the door.



"Steph, we don't have all day. We need to start drying your hair now if we want it to be manageable in time."



Steph thought about her cousin's bushy hairdo and wondered just what they meant by "manageable."



"I'm coming," she called, turning off the water.



She wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out of the bathroom, and then she was bombarded by her cousins once again.



"About time. Who takes showers that long? No matter; let's get you glamorous!"



Steph was seated on the living room sofa, where a makeshift beauty  studio had been set up. Shivika came up behind her and began making  quick work of her hair with a blow-dryer and a curling iron. With no  mirror to see what she looked like, Steph had no choice but to hope they  would make her look somewhat decent-yet another decision taken out of  her hands. She felt like a rag doll, a child's plaything.



Shivika tugged and pulled at her hair, finally crowning it with the tiara.



"All right, time to get you in your dress," Anouk said, helping Steph  rise and allowing her mother to escort her to her room. Then they pulled  her blue and white wedding gown from her suitcase and opened it up,  laying it on the bed.



"This is so similar to what I wore," her mother said, staring at the garment.



Steph couldn't think of anything to say. The dress you wore when you  were unhappy? The dress you wore when you were the most scared and  miserable in your entire life, just like I feel now?



Best not to say anything, she decided.



Her mother helped her step into her gown, buttoning it up from the back  as it cascaded down her lean body. Steph thought about Vermont in that  moment and her humdrum little life there. She was about to start a whole  new adventure, and there was a tiny part of her that felt excited about  that even as her insides roiled with trepidation.



Her mother grasped her by the shoulders and walked her over to a  floor-length mirror, finally letting her get a glimpse of herself.



She looked beautiful. Steph felt a sense of relief upon seeing that her  hair was not big and poufy but rather tightly coiled into perfect curls  that were pinned along the back of her head. The tiara glittered in the  sunlight that sprinkled in through the window, and her gown shimmered as  the blue twirls melted perfectly into the white of the dress. Her train  was very short, and she reached back for it, holding it as she gave a  small twirl to see herself from all angles.



Her mother smiled. "See," she said. "Everything is going to be just fine."



Steph took one last look at her reflection in the mirror as her mother headed toward the door.



"It's time to get going, Stephanie. The limo will be outside in a few minutes."



"Just a moment, please," she said, her eyes entreating.



Her mother nodded understandingly and closed the door behind her, giving  her daughter some time to come to terms with what was about to happen.  That wasn't why Steph had asked for privacy, though. Turning, she  reached into her purse and pulled out a small sewing kit, threading a  needle with silky white thread. On the side of her dress, she stitched  up a portion of it to create a small bustle that swept the fabric up in a  more flattering way.



Bending down, she bit the thread off and finished the stitch before taking one more look at herself.



"That's better," she said, taking a deep breath as she met her own gaze in the mirror.         

     



 



She could do this. She had to find the strength to get through the  ceremony. There could be something wonderful on the other side, right?