by Holly Rayner
Zayed nodded. “I figured that you didn’t try and flee into the desert because you thought I would be cruel to you,” he said, giving her a wry look. “I thought it must have been something to do with your conscience.”
“It was,” Zelda confirmed. “It was while I was at the fitting with Tahirah. She made a comment about my mom being proud of me, marrying such a great, wealthy man.”
“And you had moral qualms about me being wealthy?”
Zelda chuckled and shook her head. “No,” she said. “About my parents. The fact that they didn’t know where I was, didn’t know that I was going to be getting married. And I remembered my mom’s advice about marriage.” She shook her head again. “Basically, I thought then that it would be a better idea to leave before the engagement party. Forgive me my foolishness.”
The Sheikh smiled faintly. “I assume your mother told you that you should only marry for love, not for social advantage?”
Zelda shrugged. “Not so much that—just that she would rather I was married to a poor man and happy...rather than a rich man just because it was convenient.”
Zayed nodded. “And that was what you were doing with me?”
Zelda looked into her champagne flute. “Yes and no,” she said. She took a deep breath and set her glass aside, feeling nervous in spite of what Zayed had told her. “I thought there was no future—nothing real—between us,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I still don’t know for sure, but I guess…” she swallowed. “I care about you a lot more than I thought I would, when you made the proposal.”
Zayed smiled slowly, gesturing for her to go on.
“I was really— I felt sad that we were going to be parting ways so soon, and so happy when I realized you were coming here with me, but so conflicted all at the same time.” Zelda laughed, shaking her head as tears began to form in her eyes. “I’m babbling on like an idiot.”
Zayed didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed the distance between them, swimming deftly through the water. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and before Zelda could completely understand what was happening, he brushed his lips against hers.
Zelda could feel the hard muscles under his surprisingly soft skin, pressed to her body; for a moment she could do nothing but hover in Zayed’s arms in the water, shocked at the kiss. But then he began to deepen the contact with her lips, holding her tighter, and Zelda’s heart beat faster in her chest.
This was the kind of kiss they would have shared if she had let it happen in the garden, the night before the engagement party; this was the kind of kiss they should have had at the altar and didn’t.
Zelda melted against Zayed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his, letting him deepen the kiss until she was almost giddy with breathlessness.
He broke away from her lips for just a moment to kiss her each of her cheeks, slowly, softly, and then claimed her mouth with his own once more, his tongue exploring, his lips firm and soft against hers, heat blazing up between them so intensely that Zelda was shocked that the water wasn’t boiling around them.
Suddenly, Zayed broke away from her lips once more, pulling back just enough to look Zelda in the eyes. She panted slightly, bowled over by the kiss, and as soon as she was able to focus on his face, Zayed spoke.
“Tell me honestly, Zelda,” he murmured. “Don’t be afraid to lie to me, and please don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Do you think you can stay with me, and be my wife, truly?”
Zelda held Zayed’s gaze for a long moment, seeing all the openness that had so eluded her almost the whole time she had known the billionaire sheik. She pressed her lips to the spot between his mouth and his nose, and then to his forehead, and then to his lips, pulling back before she could give into the temptation for another passionate, satisfying kiss.
“I’m done running away from everything,” she told him finally. “In you, Zayed, I’ve finally found someone that I truly want to stick around for, someone I want to stay with.” She smiled, and saw the Sheikh smiling with her. “I want to stay with you. I want to be your wife.”
Zayed brought his lips down on hers once more, and Zelda gave into the embrace with abandon, letting her hands wander over her husband’s shoulders, over his back. She could taste the champagne on his lips, and an underlying warm sweetness, something that made her want to keep kissing him forever, or at least until she ran out of breath.
Finally, Zayed pulled back, looking into her eyes, and Zelda saw his eyes darkening with desire. “This is going to be a real honeymoon,” he murmured, smiling slowly.
“Is it now?” Zelda squirmed in his arms, slithering out of his grip to kick away from the wall, delving playfully through the water. At some point during their conversation, the sun had finished its descent, and lights had come up around the pool, obscuring the darkness of night around them.
“It will be,” Zayed confirmed, pursuing her in the water with an unmistakable gleam in his eyes.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” Zelda told him, giggling.
“I thought you said you were done running,” Zayed countered.
Zelda laughed out loud, narrowly evading his grab for her. “I’m not running,” she countered. “I’m swimming!”
The Sheikh laughed at her, and Zelda considered letting him catch her sooner, before discarding the idea.
“If you can catch me before I can get back to the champagne, I’ll concede that you’ve won.” She darted away from Zayed again, and felt the movement of his pursuit in the water behind her. She decided then that she would let him catch her—but only after she got to the champagne.
Chapter 16
Two Months Later
Zelda looked at herself in the mirror, shaking her head in amusement. The dress she was wearing was a far cry from the ornate gown Tahirah had made for her first wedding—but it was no less beautiful for being less formal. The ceremony they had agreed to would be shorter, too, but Zelda was certain it would be just as lovely, just as heartfelt. In fact, she was sure that it would be even more so.
It was two months since her sham wedding to Zayed, and as Zelda put the finishing touches on her own makeup, she thought about everything that had happened between them since then.
She had informed her parents that she was safe; she’d done that the morning after the first night of her “honeymoon” with Zayed, in a quick email that went to both of them. At that point, Zelda had only known that she and Zayed wanted to truly be together, not what the shape of her life would look like with him. Prior to that, they had only received the briefest of text messages during her trip to Murindhi, telling them that she was okay, before she had turned her phone off. She still hadn’t turned it back on, nor had she checked her email.
She and Zayed had been busy in the two months since their wedding; Zayed had completed his business deal, purchasing a rival hotel syndicate and assuming the leadership of both companies. He’d worked hard to make sure that everything was in place, and exactly as it should be, so that the two of them could take a real honeymoon after renewing their vows in a more personal, more genuine ceremony, which was to take place later that day. Two months to plan the renewal of vows in a much simpler ritual had made it much easier on both of them to come to an agreement of what they wanted; it was going to be an intimate ceremony, at a prime Murindhi venue--with only a dozen guests.
Zelda looked at herself in the mirror, turning her head one way and then the other. The makeup wasn’t as striking as it had been for her wedding with Zayed, but she thought that she looked good, more true to herself.
Zayed will think that you look good anyway, she reminded herself with a little smile.
She hadn’t quite gotten used to the super-wealthy, super-glamorous people that surrounded Zayed, but even still, Zelda had managed to overcome her sense of being an impostor—especially once she had convinced him to clear the air about her true identity.
That being said, she hadn’t grown up working with stylists and d
esigners; she hadn’t lived a life of wealth and prestige until she’d started living with Zayed. Even if she wasn’t quite as easygoing about fashion, or the need for so many fripperies, Zelda thought that she’d managed to impress more than a few of Zayed’s circle. He’d been right that her parents’ emphasis on her education stood her in good stead with people who’d gone to boarding schools and the best private academies.
Zelda stood back from the mirror and gathered the last few things she would need before she and Zayed left the house for the venue in the city. She had a bouquet—a small one, in comparison with her wedding bouquet, and made up of roses instead of Murindhi blooms, but it was every bit as beautiful. She also had a few pieces of jewelry for the occasion, which were not quite as ostentatious as her original wedding jewelry had been, nor as heavy. Her wedding band was gone from her hand; Zayed had taken it two weeks before to have it altered for the purposes of their vow renewals, along with his own.
“Zelda? Are you ready?” Zayed’s voice cut through her thoughts, coming from the other side of the bedroom door.
Zelda had playfully insisted that he couldn’t see her while she was getting ready, in a mimicry of the rules for her wedding day. But since they were going to the venue together, which was one of the hotels that Zayed owned and the first piece of his empire as a billionaire, she couldn’t exactly keep herself hidden from him the entire time before the ceremony began, nor did she want to.
“Coming,” she called back, checking herself in the mirror one last time before turning to leave the room.
Zelda smiled to herself; all of the traces of sadness she’d felt on the day of her legal wedding to Zayed were gone; the fact that they had agreed to stay together, and the fact that they were making an honest marriage out of a sham wedding, made Zelda happier than she would have imagined possible only a few months before.
She stepped out of the bedroom she shared with Zayed and met her husband’s gaze. “Not as involved as my first wedding outfit, but not bad, right?”
Zayed looked her up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on her body. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he told her, and she believed him.
They had chosen green and silver for their colors; since Zelda was already married, it seemed silly to her to wear the full wedding finery, and it seemed disingenuous to wear the traditional wedding colors for their renewal. Zayed wore a deep green suit which brought out the green tones in his hazel eyes, while Zelda had worked with Tahirah to create a silver dress with green accents that complemented the design of Zayed’s suit.
Zayed took Zelda’s hand and they walked through the house together and out to the waiting limo. Zelda mentally went over the words to her vows once again as they walked, making sure that she remembered them completely. She was learning more and more Murindhi every day, but there were gaps in her understanding that she was sure would take years to fill.
The Sheikh helped Zelda into the back seat of the big car and joined her there. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
It had become a joke between them—Zelda’s escape months before, on the night of their engagement party, and the fact that she had spent so much of her life running away from things.
“Yes,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sure.”
“I think the guests will be pleasantly surprised by the menu at the reception,” Zayed told her.
Zelda snickered; one of the things that they’d agreed on early in the preparations for the ceremony was that she would be in charge of the menu, instructing the kitchens at Zayed’s hotel in what she wanted and how it should be done. It was a useful application of her culinary education and interest, and one that Zayed told her he fully intended on expanding on.
Amongst their other plans, discussed over the meals they shared or late into the night as they lay in bed together, Zayed and Zelda had decided that the best use of her talents would be in designing the room service menus at some of the properties that Zayed owned. Zayed already knew about her skills, both from the trip on the yacht and the random trips into the kitchens Zelda had taken since they’d gotten married, but the vow renewal ceremony would be the debut of her talents to the larger world.
It felt strangely comforting to Zelda to have a place in the world, and a job to do. Her life was busy, but it seemed to be just as full of social obligations as it had ever been with classes or work.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get used to the life of a billionaire’s wife,” Zelda admitted to Zayed as the driver wound his way through the busy city streets, navigating to the hotel.
“Speaking of which, I think there are going to be a lot of people who are scandalized by you inviting Hadya as a guest and not as a staff member for the day,” Zayed countered.
Zelda smirked, leaning against her husband as the driver made a turn. “She’s been here for me since the very beginning,” Zelda pointed out. “I wanted to give her the day off.”
“Still, it’s pretty revolutionary to have one of your household staff as a guest at your wedding,” Zayed told her. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead, lowering his voice to a murmur. “It’s the sort of thing my mother would have done.”
They had talked in depth about Zayed’s parents, to the point that Zelda felt almost as if she had met them. She was saddened by the fact that they couldn’t be present to see their son not only get married, but renew his vows in a ceremony that made the sham marriage a true one.
The car arrived at the hotel, and Zayed helped Zelda out of the backseat, steadying her as she made sure she could walk in the heels Tahirah had made to go with the new dress. They were not quite as high as the ones she had worn before, but Zelda had spent less time in them.
They entered the hotel together, arm in arm, and Zelda could see awe on the faces of the hotel staff, and just a hint of amazement in the eyes of the guests who were milling around. The guests would all be assembled in the banquet room that Zayed had taken up for the occasion, and the officiant would be in place.
Rather than Zayed taking up his position, and then a dozen attendants going down the aisle in a procession, followed by Zelda’s own arrival, they’d decided to walk together, to make it clear that they were husband and wife already, in love.
Zelda was grateful for Zayed’s steadying presence as the thin, spike heels of her shoes wobbled slightly on a crack between two tiles—even if there were far fewer guests to embarrass herself in front of, she didn’t want to fall on her face any more than she had for her first wedding.
Tarek, Zayed’s assistant, stood at the door to the banquet hall, waiting for them. “You’re exactly on time,” he said approvingly. “Everyone is just getting seated inside. I’ll give the cue for them to start the music.” He ducked in through the door, somehow managing not to reveal the two of them to the guests, and Zayed turned once more to Zelda.
“Feeling nervous?”
She shook her head, smiling at him, resisting the urge to kiss him until they were in the right part of the renewal ceremony to do it. “Feeling confident,” she replied.
It was true; she felt more and more certain every day that she had made the right decision when it came to Zayed. Slowly but surely, he had opened up more, and every new facet of her husband’s personality had given Zelda more to appreciate and respect.
He was even more complex than she had originally realized, with a nuanced sense of humor. He was intelligent, witty and kind, generous and funny, serious yet playful. He had encouraged Zelda not only to take up her role designing menus for some of his hotels, but also to resume her studies at university; after all, he’d pointed out, her argument about not being able to find a job afterwards was no longer relevant.
Tarek reappeared and nodded to them, and Zelda listened carefully for the start of their entrance music.
At the just right moment, the doors opened and Zelda and the Sheikh entered the banquet hall.
Just because the ceremony was smaller, and their guest list was more limi
ted, didn’t mean that Zayed hadn’t gone all out; the banquet hall had been totally transformed, decked out in flowers and bunting in silver and green, lit up with candles which gleamed from the crystal chandeliers.
The guests were some of the people that Zayed cared about the most: some of his distant relatives, and the friends whose opinions and friendships he truly valued. Zelda didn’t know the guests as well as her husband did, but she had started getting to know them, and she felt much more comfortable walking down the aisle on Zayed’s arm than she had before, walking by herself to his side, particularly now that she knew some of the people watching her.
Their officiant this time, waiting for them at the end of the aisle, was not just some stranger, some anonymous official that Zelda had never met. He was Rasheed, one of Zayed’s closest friends, and one of the guests who’d been on the yacht when Zelda had stowed away. He, of all of the people in the room, knew about Zelda’s real significance in Zayed’s life. Zelda had learned that Rasheed had known Zayed from their private school days together, and when Rasheed had heard about their plans to renew their vows—when he’d found out his friend was finally going to marry for love—he had insisted on taking charge of the ceremony.
They came to the end of the aisle where Rasheed stood. Zelda smiled to herself as Zayed “presented” her to the guests, turning her to face them, before taking her hand in his and leading her the last few steps to the altar proper.
Rasheed cleared his throat and spoke into a microphone, although the group in the room was small enough to be able to hear him even if he hadn’t. “We have come together today to watch these two beautiful people renew the vows that they made two months ago,” Rasheed explained. “Because their original wedding was a traditional one, and because the circumstances were so rushed, Zayed El-Sharabi and his wife, Zelda Barnes El-Sharabi wish to show their friends their true commitment to one another in a new ceremony, before they spend the rest of their lives together.”