The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(13)

When Mom came to, her eyes sought out mine. “Lacie?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

She was between Dad and me, each of her hands in one of ours. I kept my gaze on that hand so she wouldn’t see my tears.

“What were you saying?”

I shook my head, took her hand to my lips, and kissed it.

“It’s nothing, Mom. Nothing.”

“You sure?”

I rose. “Yes. I have to go now, but I’m glad I got to see you. I love you.”

I hugged them both, and then, I left. I didn’t feel bad for not telling them about Rashid and the choice I had to make. I couldn’t. Not after what had just happened, what I’d just seen.

Besides, my visit had done what it was supposed to—now, my mind was made up. Now, there was no doubt about what I had to do.

On the subway home, I closed my eyes. I opened them to Rashid smiling down on me.

“Morning, darling.”

He kissed me lightly on the cheek, while I could only gape back at him.

“Is this a dream?”

An amused smile played on his face.

“I guess you could say that. I mean, I’m married to the love of my life and today is the day your parents are visiting us.”

“What?”

He chuckled, took my hand, and helped me out of an ivory silk-sheeted bed.

“Come on, sleepy, the attendants have brought breakfast out for us.”

He led me outside to a balcony which looked out over a gorgeous blue ocean. It was only when I flopped onto one of the wrought-iron seats that I noticed the spread of food before us. Pancakes, bacon and eggs, and my favorite—apple waffles. Rashid patted my hand.

“You did request an American breakfast this morning; is this what you envisioned?”

“Yes,” was all I could manage to gasp.

No sooner had I taken my first bite of food and directed my gaze to the beach, than I glimpsed some far-off figures.

Rashid, following my gaze, grinned. “Ah, they must have arrived early.”

I couldn’t tear my gaze away, didn’t chew my food, didn’t even move. What he’d said, what I thought it meant—it couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening.

When they were fully in view, the sun was shining down on them, turning my mom’s smile into a bright sparkle. My parents waved at me. Stopping under the high-up balcony, they shaded their eyes as they yelled up to me.

“Hi, honey!”

I was speechless. My mom was walking steadily; her cheeks full and rosy; her eyes glowing. She was healed. This was…

“Amazing, isn’t it, how that new treatment has almost completely healed her.”

Rashid was smiling at me kindly once again, as if I knew this already, as if this wasn’t hands-down the most astounding, incredible thing I’d ever seen.

“Oh my God!” I cried, and opened my eyes.

I was back on the subway, in the dingy car, across from a glazed-eyed girl. As my eyes slowly took in my surroundings and I came to grips with my dream, suddenly, everything became clear. I would accept Rashid's offer. If not for myself, then for my mom and dad.

Calling my parents went easily enough—they were surprised but supportive of my last-minute trip. Calling my work went less smoothly, ending with the owner making vague hints about firing me, though they didn’t seem to hold their usual threat and power over me.

No, I was too filled with adrenaline, already at home, heaping clothes into my duffel bag. Handfuls of T-shirts, shorts, tank-tops, skirts, and dresses I hadn’t worn in years. Happier clothes for a happier me, a more hopeful me, the one who was back now, stronger than ever. All my toiletries I could find I dumped in the little flowered bag Mom had given me years ago.

When I finally stumbled out the door, I didn’t worry. No, anything I had forgotten, I could just buy once I was there. I was sure with my $1,000,000 I just might be able to afford it. As I waited for the taxi I had called to take me to the airport, I texted Rashid.

I’m in. Meet you at the airport in 30.

At the airport, my tentative question to the flight attendant about a flight with Rashid produced a better response than expected.

“So, you’re Lacie?” Her kindly face peered into mine, and I nodded. “Just go to Terminal A, gate number seven. That’s where Rashid’s jet will be waiting.”

I nodded again and faked a casual smile, as if boarding private jets with sheikhs was something I did regularly, and set off for Terminal A.

During my whole walk through the airport and trek through security, the name Rashid bin Ahmed Qarani worked like a magic charm. No need for any ticket, and no need for any further explanation. I’d just say “I’m with Sheikh Rashid,” and every time, I received the same courteous, respectful shoo-through.

When I got to the gate, I saw him. He was standing right under the sign, looking straight at me, as if he had known that I’d come all along, as if he hadn’t doubted it for a second.

When I reached him, he threw his arms around me in an ecstatic hug.

“Lacie. You have no idea how happy this makes me. I’m so excited that I get to show you my home.”

I relaxed my body into his warm, reassuring embrace. “I am, too.”





Chapter Eleven





Rashid