The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(19)

Finally, I asked her, “What do you see?”

Surprised, she glanced at me, her eyes still full of wonder.

She smiled. “Oh Rashid, it’s beautiful. I mean, look at it.” She took my hand and whispered in my ear, “That unbroken gold carpet of sand, the navy ocean of sky, the silver pinpricks of stars. It’s stunning.”

And, as she spoke in her soft, sweet voice, maybe it was her hand in mine, or maybe it was me straining my eyes with all my might, but, for a second, I saw it how she did. I truly appreciated the endless sandy vista before me, with its black-blue ceiling and white twinkles of stars. I saw, perhaps for the first time, just how beautiful it all was—this sight, this very moment.

The wind kissing our cheeks carried the scents of our feast and far-off flowers from somewhere. I absorbed the beauty we were right in the middle of—and, most of all, the most wonderful part—the extraordinary woman I was beside. She, who had somehow made me see it too, somehow let me experience it with her.

“Doesn’t it make you feel so grateful?” she whispered.

I nodded and turned to face her. “Yes. Yes it does.”

Now, I couldn’t stop myself. I took her chin in my hands and turned her face towards mine. Then, I pressed my lips to hers. In that second, nothing else existed but kissing her. Her lips were soft, giving, allowing mine to do what they pleased. My hands cupped her face, then ran down over her shoulders, down her arms, holding her sides.

A camel brayed and I jerked back. I looked at her, stricken.

“Lacie, I’m so sorry, I got so swept up in the moment…”

In the moonlight, she was luminous, angel-like.

“Don’t apologize.”

I was rendered speechless with her quiet confidence, her silent understanding. She turned her attention back to the sky and spoke to it.

“It’s nice, your dedication to your parents. Not many people back home would understand it. Most don’t even understand what I’ve been doing for my parents.”

Her words surprised me. “Really? What do people in the U.S. value, then?”

She shrugged and waved her hand dismissively.

“Themselves.” She returned her gaze to me with a sheepish half-smile. “Though, it’s not their fault, really; it’s how they were raised. Our culture and values can be hard to escape.”

After a few seconds of quiet, she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have said that—that not many people back home would understand me sacrificing going to school for my parents. Really, it was only one person, mainly—or one person who came out and said it, I guess. She thought it was a stupid decision.”

“Oh?”

“Nadia. She was the woman in the video, the one who was laughing about me being…about me never having been with anyone.”

My gaze flicked to her, surprised. “That woman is your friend?”

She nodded. “Yeah…well, she and I have been friends since we were kids. She’s always been like that.”

The longer my gaze searched the profile of her face, the less it found.

“But why?”

Still, she avoided my gaze. “I…don’t know.” She sighed. “She just chose me to be her friend when we were young. She’s always been the outgoing one, the assertive one who threw the parties and was popular. She’s never been very kind to me, but I guess I always figured…”

The answer came to her as another angry sigh.

“I’m afraid, that’s why. Or, I was, anyway. Of ditching her and having no friends, having no one to talk to, having her shun me.”

I gave a nod of understanding, but she wasn’t finished yet.

“But I was wrong. What’s the worst is letting her keep treating me how she has.”

Her usually shy, quiet demeanor had changed into a bolder aura, and she continued.

“Earlier, in the plane, you were right; I was afraid. Ever since I was a kid I’ve hated being the center of attention, to the extent that I refused anything that involved public speaking—or even just standing in front of a crowd. And back there, I was freaking out, and yet, when you squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear—” her eyes locked on mine, “Everything was okay.”

After hearing her words, I felt some of my own bubbling up inside me. The truth that I’d kept locked away, of which it was time to reveal. I turned to her and took her hands.

“A few days ago, with the dress and my parents getting upset. I want to explain it to you, make you understand—that it wasn’t about you at all. It was about my sister.”

The more I spoke, the worse I felt. I almost wanted to tell her that I had to stop, that I couldn’t bear it. And yet, as the weight grew heavier, I knew it wouldn’t let up until I’d said it entirely.

“Aliya was her name. My darling younger sister. She was the kindest, most gentle girl I’ve ever known. We spent all our time together, the two of us, chasing each other when we were young, discussing everything under the sun when we were older. She died in a car accident the day before her 16th birthday.

“My parents were devastated. That was when my father’s illness really set in; I think he just couldn’t take the stress of it all. They still haven’t gotten over the loss, and I think they may never get over it. That’s partly why I’m so determined to attain the crown. I don’t want to disappoint them; I’m not sure they could handle it.”