The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(11)

“Does it ever get old—the beauty of it?” she asked the gondolier.

He shook his head, causing wisps of grey curls to escape from his baseball cap.

“Every night it’s different, and more exquisite. Like getting closer to a diamond with a microscope.”

He went on to tell us how he had been a jeweler, how he had worked with diamonds, what kind of customers he’d had—celebrities, wealthy, demanding businessman and regular people alike. Then, he told us how this was where he’d taken his first wife before he’d proposed, and then met his second wife, years later.

“With relationships, what do you think makes them work?”

Lacie’s face wore a pensive look. The man smiled, though it was a sad one, stretching his wrinkles into a series of horizontal and vertical lines over his face.

“I’m in the process of divorcing my third wife, so I can’t tell you that.”

He sighed and gave one big nod, making more hair wisps tumble out.

“Though I can tell you what makes a relationship not work. Holding part of yourself back, not being true, not letting yourself be vulnerable. Doing those things will always hinder your sense of trust and intimacy with your partner.”

His gaze wasn’t on us anymore; instead, he looked out towards the sun, which had begun its descent. It looked far away, almost like a misplaced part of the city, some streetlight that had moved.

My gaze went to Lacie, but hers was back on the flickering city’s reflection on the lake, which we had started to float over.

“When I was six, my dog drowned in a lake when we vacationing up north. I’ve never gone in the water since.”

My hand found hers, and my voice found words. “I’m so sorry, Lacie.” After a moment, I spoke again. “I’m almost as afraid of this—us—working, as I am of it not. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to be a king—or a husband.”

When she turned to face me, her eyes were teary as she spoke. “I’m absolutely terrified.”

I pressed her head against my chest and stroked her silky hair. “I know. But we can and we will make it work. I truly believe that.”

And then, as the tiny waves lapped at the gondola and the gondola glided atop the reflection of the sunset, we sat there, us and the gondolier, quiet as the still water. Far-off birds sang of the coming shore, but we didn’t listen. No, we listened only when the gondola started heaving. The gondolier cursed.

“Too close to the rocks.”

I turned to him.

“What’s that?”

“You’ll have to get out; we’re too close to the rocks. If we all stay in, the boat’ll sink.”

As the import of what he’d said settled into my fuzzy brain, I shook my head.

“Could I get out, and you and Lacie stay?”

He shook his head.

“I’m sorry. Either you both go or the whole boat does.”

Lacie’s body was now rigid.

“Lacie, I…”

“It’s okay.” Her voice was cold, tense, her body shivering.

“We can do this.”

Her harried gaze sought out mine. “Don’t let me drown.”

I wrapped my arms around her. “I won’t, I promise. I’m a good swimmer.”

And then we were lowering ourselves into the icy-cold water, and I was proving the truth of my words.

Her whole body was a rigid sinking machine, one which took all of my strength to keep upright. Silently thanking God for those many hours spent doing laps in the palace pool, I made my way to shore, all the while keeping an iron-tight grip on Lacie.

It was only once she was safely on the sand, and I was seated beside her, that I let the exhausted exhale of relief explode from my lips.

Lacie was hunched over, her teeth chattering. I wrapped her in my arms.

“We did it, did you see that? We did it!”

And, amidst her deathly white face, a smile trembled up and she nodded weakly. “We did it.”

She let out a half-hysterical laugh of relief. Once again I hugged her, holding her tightly her until the trembling stopped, until her breaths were no longer gasps. And, when I released her, she lifted her head to give me a grateful smile.

“Oh, God, I was out-of-my-mind scared. You saved me. Thank you.”

“Anything for my—"

At her poke, I jerked backwards.

“Hey…”

“I told you, I haven’t made up my mind yet.

“How did you know I wasn’t going to say ‘my very favorite Lacie in the whole wide world,’ hmm?”

Under the scorch of her glare, I sighed.

“Okay, okay. Though, really, I don’t know what’s holding you back, I mean, any girl would kill for the opportunity to nearly drown in a lake with me.”

We laughed as we made our way back to the lake’s dock. Once the gondolier reached us, he apologized profusely, before handing us a coupon to a bubble tea shop down the road.

“What do you say about drowning in some bubble tea for our next adventure?” I asked Lacie.

By now, the wind had blown both our clothes to a semblance of dryness, and she nodded. “Today wouldn’t be complete without some tea drowning, too.”

So, on to the bubble tea shop we went.

It was small but empty, with cheery bubblegum-pink walls and marmalade colored tables. We choose a booth at the back and cozied up, side by side. There, Lacie gulped down the big-bubbled fruit tea she’d chosen and I slurped my chocolate one. We toasted teas and drank and talked and talked. We talked about little things, our favorite smells—mine being the ocean, and hers, fresh vanilla—and big things, like what we wanted in a marriage, if we wanted kids.