The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(34)
“You’ve done it. You’re king!”
I tried the word out, but each time I said it, it felt as unreal as the last.
“King!” Lacie cried.
“King!” I cried back.
We laughed together and we kissed—her and I, king and queen. When I caught her eye, I let a mischievous smile come over my face.
“I have a confession to make…”
“Oh, no.”
“It was a joke, all of it—the TV broadcast, this, right now, everything.”
For a split second, Lacie almost believed me. Her smile twitched, she caught my twinkling eye, then she grabbed a pillow and whacked me with it, playfully hitting me over the head.
Next, my pillow was against hers and we were flinging them back and forth, laughing, eyes filled with tears, whooping, kissing.
Going home was much the same. When we stepped out into the palace garden, where I was to be crowned, the roads were lined with my cheering people. Every face was jubilant, every arm waving. The whole sky was filled with a cheerful song, and even the birds seemed to be warbling along. Carnation petals were in the air and somewhere, I saw her. Aliya. Smiling.
But no one was happier than my Lacie, clad in a resplendent purple-and-gold robe, waving to the crowd, beaming at her people.
I took her hand and whispered in her ear. “You ready for this?”
“Not a chance.”
I kissed her hand and we laughed. Neither of us were ready, but we had each other, and we had our love. And that was enough. More than enough. It was all we needed.
The End
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The Sheikh’s Contract Bride
Holly Rayner
Next up, I’ve included my recent book, The Sheikh’s Contract Bride, in full!
I hope you enjoy!
Copyright 2017 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One
“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”
A man with grizzled hair and tattered clothing dashed down the dark streets of L.A., a recent rain casting a shining glow on the pavement beneath his feet as he sprinted toward a chain-link fence.
“I said I’ll shoot!” Kaye shouted, her voice breaking. She took a breath, prepared to do what she had to.
“Cut!”
Breathing hard, Kaye turned to look behind her, where a series of cameras and a whole crew of people stood watching the scene. The man who had shouted cut was the director, Barry, and Kaye looked at him expectantly as the extra who had been running jogged back to his starting position.
“What’s going on, Barry?”
The director held a cellphone in his hand, his eyes dark even in the obscurity of predawn. It was the only time they could reserve the street for shooting without having to pay to clear or close it.
“We’re through,” he announced, his eyes darting around to the shocked stares of his cast and crew. “The network just called; they’re pulling the show.”
“What?” Kaye asked, stunned. “Barry, this was supposed to be my big break. You can’t do this to me.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he reminded her, his tone defeated. “They said our pilot didn’t test well. Apparently it’s not original enough for a cop show. We’re finished.”
He turned and looked back at the crew.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Pack up. Find another gig. It’s time to move on.”
After a heavy pause, people began to move, folding up camera gear, chairs, and breaking everything down while Kaye continued to stare at Barry, as though waiting for him to look up and grin at how he had managed to fool everyone so effectively. When he didn’t, she approached him.
“I need this paycheck, Barry. I need to pay my rent.”
Barry shrugged her off, a far cry from his usual genial attitude.
“Sorry, kid. We all needed it; believe me. You’ve got a pretty face. You’ll find another gig.”
“Are you serious? In this town?”
“You landed the lead role in your own show. You have the talent. Others will see that.”
“My own show that got canceled before even airing!”
When she realized that she would get no satisfaction from Barry, she stormed off the set, packing the small bag she’d left in a trailer. For a few minutes, she sat in her ancient yellow Beetle, her gaze drifting toward the sun rising over the city.