by Holly Rayner
“I always imagined a huge staff here,” Dakota admitted. “The Emir has so many servants and valets at the palace, and you’re part of the royal family.”
“It’s very different,” Majeed said. “The Emir’s staff is required, by both law and tradition, to attend him. And remember that he has the responsibility of governing on his mind. He can’t be spending his time worrying about how to poach an egg—it’s essential that he has someone to do that sort of thing for him. It’s different with my family. We’re royals, but we aren’t rulers.”
“I see.” Dakota had known that, of course, but it had never occurred to her to ponder it, to really appreciate the ways in which the bin Ayads’ station differed from the Emir’s.
Majeed placed a plate in front of her. The hamburger patty, topped with cheese and lettuce, rested on a toasted bun, surrounded by a pile of golden french fries. He stood back and folded his arms, looking extremely pleased with himself. “Well? What do you think?”
“It looks just about perfect,” she said.
“Try it!”
Dakota bit into the burger. The meat was perfectly cooked, juicy and tender, and the onions and peppers gave it a unique and deliciously sharp flavor. “Majeed, this is amazing! Is this really your first time making this?”
“I’ve worked with ground beef, of course,” he said, somewhat modestly. “The preparation is sort of the same as how I make kibbeh. But it’s cooked differently. I’ve never done that part before.”
“Well, it’s wonderful,” she said and pointed to his plate, which rested on the counter behind him. “Come on over here and join me.”
The next day, Majeed arrived at the Lee home at five thirty sharp. It was Dakota’s turn to try to impress him with her cooking prowess, and since he’d served her American food, she was determined to whip up something Middle Eastern for him. After all, she thought as she laid out a row of grape leaves to stuff with meat and rice, this meal wasn’t just about winning a competition. She wanted to show Majeed that, as his wife, she would be up to the task of cooking for his parents on occasion.
Dakota’s own family had very kindly vacated the house for the occasion. It had taken some persuading—Anne had wanted to stay and get to know Majeed in person, an opportunity she hadn’t yet had. Dylan had argued that there was no reason he should have to leave the entire house as long as he stayed upstairs, and he didn’t ask Dakota to leave when Rachel came over to visit, did he? Finally, however, her father had put his foot down, reminding them that Dakota was making a tremendous sacrifice for the family. The least they could do was to help her out as much as they could. Dakota had been surprised and rather touched at the realization that her father did, after all, understand what he was asking of her.
She showed Majeed into the dining room. “The food’s already prepared,” she said. “I’ll go grab the first course.”
“I thought I was going to get to watch you cook,” he called after her in a mock-complaining tone.
“You have your whole life to watch me cook,” she shot back.
The first course was vegetables and hummus. They devoured it quickly, and then Dakota brought out her stuffed grape leaves. Majeed picked one up with his hands and admired it. “Did you roll these yourself?”
“Oh no, did I do it wrong?”
“No, it’s perfect. Look at the shape! Did they all come out like this? None of them split open in the pot?”
“No.”
“Mine always split open,” he said. “This is fantastic. Now I’ll have someone to make me stuffed grape leaves!”
Dakota laughed. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven. It’s a good thing our parents are business rivals.”
Majeed swallowed his bite and looked across the table at her. “You know that I do see you as more than a convenient settlement, right?”
Dakota felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I just wanted to make sure. You know, we talk so much about the wedding and the terms of our arrangement. It seems like it’s been the focus of almost every date we’ve been on.”
“Not the last few,” Dakota pointed out.
“I agree. I feel like we’ve been getting to know each other at last, and…I really like you, Dakota.”
“I like you too,” she said.
“And then, just now, I made that joke, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t think I was only concerned with how this marriage benefits my family and me. I don’t see you as an acquisition, a person to cook for me and make the Emir happy with my family. I don’t want you to think that I think of you that way.”
She hadn’t thought that—hadn’t thought it in a while—but hearing it said out loud caused something to shift within her. She saw Majeed in a new light—as a partner, aligned with her, rather than as friendly opposition to be negotiated with.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me.”
He stood, took her hand, and pulled her close, closer than she had ever been to him before, and suddenly—before she knew it, before she knew what was happening—his mouth was on hers.
And then it was as if they had jumped, or fallen, off a cliff together, arm in arm, and there was no escape from the gravity that was drawing them down, drawing them into each other.
She forgot that this had been arranged by their families, that he was Majeed bin Ayad, the son of her father’s biggest rival. All her senses were filled with the intensity of him, his rich scent and hard muscles and the scrape of his chin, and when his hands began to move up under her shirt she did not withdraw, did not complain…
It was over as quickly as it had begun. Majeed had pulled away, leaving Dakota gasping.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that…”
“We should—” She was aching to step closer to him.
“We should wait.”
She could see in his eyes, in the way his hands twitched toward her as if they wanted to reach out on their own and pull her closer, that he did not want to wait. He wanted this, wanted her, tonight.
She wanted him, too.
Usually, it was logic that governed Dakota’s life. It was her logic, her ability to detach emotionally, that had enabled her to agree to an arranged marriage in the first place. It was the best practical choice for everyone involved, and she was a very practical person. A pragmatist. And he was right. He wanted them to take things slow. Hurrying this could have terrible ramifications for their impending marriage, and that would spell disaster for both families. She had to be responsible.
But it was so hard, with him standing there looking at her like she was all he wanted in the world. It was so hard, now that she’d had a taste of him, to back away. The agreement they’d made just a few weeks ago that they wouldn’t be compelled to sleep with each other when they were married seemed laughable now. How would they possibly be able to restrain themselves?
Majeed retook his seat at the dining room table, moving almost cautiously as if there was something in the air that might be broken now, and after a moment Dakota joined him. He asked her about work, and she answered automatically, not really thinking, not really listening to herself. Her mind was still trapped hopelessly in his kiss.
Chapter 10
Two weeks had gone by in a blur. The arrangement between the Lees and the bin Ayads was publicly announced the day after Majeed and Dakota’s second dinner date, and from that moment on, they had barely had a moment’s peace.
Reporters came to the Lee house to write profiles on the bride, and Dakota spent hours posing for photos and answering questions while her mother bustled around opening bottles of wine and passing plates of crudités. When the last of the publicity obligations was finally over, Dakota made a bowl of popcorn, changed into sweats, and collapsed in front of the TV with Dylan for a movie marathon.
“It’s going to be like that all the time when you’re royalty,” Dylan said. “You’ll probably have t
o do a press event every day. Every time you go to the grocery store or make a coffee run.”
“Oh, God,” Dakota groaned. She knew her brother was right. She had seen the magazines and the internet articles featuring Baraq’s royal families, the biggest celebrities in the nation. But the truth was, she hadn’t minded all the publicity as much as she’d expected to. It was nice to have a fuss made over her, and her job as a communications officer had certainly prepared her for the responsibility of answering questions and representing herself well.
The engagement party had come a few days later. Although Dakota had been warned that it was a big deal, she was still overwhelmed when the car stopped and she and Majeed stepped out into what was practically a red-carpet event.
Reporters snapped their photo as they moved from guest to guest, shaking hands and thanking people Dakota had never met before for coming. Waiters moved through the party bearing trays of intricate looking appetizers and glasses of champagne. As one of the trays passed by, Dakota hoped idly that Dylan was behaving himself tonight. But if he wasn’t, she realized with a pleasant rush of freedom, it wasn’t her responsibility. Her only job tonight was to stay by Majeed’s side and look happy.
It wasn’t a difficult job, because she was happy. Majeed and Dakota had fast become legitimate friends, and now every time something amusing happened at the party, he was the one she wanted to talk to about it. Several times they exchanged glances, sharing a silent laugh over something, not even needing to articulate what was so funny.
Anne insisted on throwing a wedding shower, even though it wasn’t included in Baraqi tradition. Almost nobody attended since it would have been a ridiculous expense for the Lees’ western friends to travel that far. But an online registry was established, and several friends from back in the States sent gifts. Majeed and Dakota sat together at an appointed time and opened their presents in front of a webcam, thanking their video guests one by one.
Finally, the eve of the wedding arrived. Dakota could hardly believe it had been less than a month since she’d made her arrangement with Majeed. Her whole life had changed so dramatically that it seemed as though it must have been longer.
Her parents had arranged a rehearsal dinner, just for the Lees and the bin Ayads, as a last opportunity to quietly work out any details of the arrangement that still needed to be discussed. Even though in her parents’ mind, the event was little more than a business meeting, Dakota was looking forward to it. She dressed in a rose gold cocktail dress she thought Majeed would like and arranged her hair in a careful updo. This would be her last chance to spend time with Majeed before the wedding when they officially became man and wife. She was feeling a little nervous, and for some reason the idea of time spent with him was the perfect tonic. She knew tonight’s dinner would be just the thing to calm her down and make her feel ready to face tomorrow.
Dakota met the rest of her family in the front hall. The dinner was to be held, at Dakota’s request, in the restaurant where she and Majeed had had their first date. The owner had been only too happy to set aside a room for the royal wedding. Dakota had been brushing up on her Arabic and planned to impress Majeed—and, hopefully, his parents—by ordering her own dinner from the menu.
Upon arriving at the restaurant, Dakota saw that the room in which they were to dine had been decorated by the staff. Red and gold lanterns had been hung from the ceiling, and two of the chairs had been adorned with flowers. Dakota took one of the decorated chairs and her family settled themselves around her.
“Are we early?” Dylan asked.
“They’re late,” Ben said.
“No, they aren’t,” Dakota said. “One of us had to get here first.”
“The hosting party should arrive first anyway,” Anne said. “That’s just good etiquette. I, for one, would be embarrassed if the bin Ayads had beaten us here. We want them to see that we have just as much class as they do.”
“I’d say we have a good deal more,” Ben muttered. Dakota let it pass without comment—if that was the rudest thing that was said today, then the dinner would be a success. She and Majeed were getting along wonderfully now, but unfortunately, even after some positive initial signs, the same could not be said of their families. Although Ubaid bin Ayad and Ben Lee had agreed on the need for their children’s marriage, they hadn’t spoken since, and Dakota was worried that having everyone in the same room would stir up old conflicts.
Several minutes passed, and the bin Ayads hadn’t arrived. The waiter brought a basket of bread and a bottle of wine. Dakota checked her phone anxiously. Surely Majeed would call her if they were running late?
There was an unread text message from him. Dakota clicked it open, expecting to see that they’d been delayed but were on their way. Instead, the message read—Can’t make it tonight. Business deal fell through, and we’re all stuck at the office in negotiations. Please convey our sincere regrets to your family, and I’ll see you tomorrow.
Dylan had noticed her staring at her phone. “What’s up?”
“They’re not coming,” Dakota said. “Something about a deal falling through.”
An ominous silence fell around the table. Nobody seemed to know what to say. Anne’s jaw had dropped, and she looked from her husband to her daughter and back as if waiting for one of them to provide an explanation.
Finally, Ben spoke. “They’re not coming?”
“They couldn’t, Dad.” Dakota heard the ire in her father’s voice and felt compelled to defend her future in-laws. “You know how it is when you can’t get away from the office. How many times has that happened to us?”
“Of all the inconsiderate…” Ben broke off. “Do they know how much we spent to get this room? How much planning your mother put into tonight? And they couldn’t even muster the decency to show up? You know, this is exactly like them. I don’t know why I expected anything different. This is the same thing they’ve been doing to us for years.”
“Dad, come on,” Dakota protested. “Give it a rest. I’m marrying Majeed tomorrow. The whole point of this arrangement was to fix all this negativity between them and us.”
“She’s right,” Dylan said. Catching his father’s glower, he quickly added. “I think they should have shown up too, but we have to start letting these things go, don’t we? And besides, was anyone really that excited about this dinner? This place is way too fancy. Let’s pay for our wine and go get takeout. Dakota’s getting married tomorrow. Tonight should be just the four of us.”
By the time they got home, Ben was in better spirits. Majeed’s text to Dakota had been read aloud, and everyone had admitted that he did sound sincere in his apology. Ben still felt Ubaid bin Ayad ought to have made the gesture of reaching out to the Lees rather than leaving it to his son. “If we’d had to cancel,” he grumbled, “I would have called them.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the better man.” Dylan kicked off his shoes, flopped down on the couch, and opened his takeout box. “The Emir is deluding himself if he thinks any of this is going to lead to better relations if you want my opinion. You’re always going to fight with the Sheikh, even if he is Dakota’s father-in-law.”
“I don’t think it’s about that, really,” Anne said. “This is all about appearances. Our families don’t have to like each other, as long as we put on a good show. That’s all the Emir wants.”
“You’re awfully quiet, Dakota,” Dylan pointed out. “I don’t think you’ve said a word since we left the restaurant. Having second thoughts?”
“What?” Dakota looked up. She hadn’t really been listening. Her thoughts were across town with Majeed and his family. How unfair to be stuck at the office on the night before your wedding. She knew him well now, well enough to know that he would have preferred to spend this evening the way she was, with family. He had been excited about the rehearsal dinner. He must be so disappointed.
“She’s got cold feet,” Anne said. “I was the same way before I married your father. I thought I’d never get to sleep
the night before.”
“This isn’t like when you married Dad, though,” Dylan said. “It’s a business transaction. What’s to be nervous about?”
“Oh, no, every bride is nervous before the big day,” Anne said. “And Dakota’s wedding will be the event of the year here in Baraq. Just think of all the publicity. I’d be worried if she wasn’t nervous!”
But that wasn’t it, Dakota thought. She spoke in front of reporters all the time, and they didn’t make her nervous. She was used to being in the public eye. And yet there was something, an uncomfortable stirring in her gut. She wasn’t having second thoughts, as Dylan had suggested. She definitely wanted to go through with the wedding tomorrow. But she couldn’t deny that she was nervous.
Ben emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of vodka. “Here we are. The perfect tonic for nerves.” He poured a little into five highball glasses and topped them off with some cola, then passed them around to everyone in the room. He tipped his toward his daughter. “To the bride,” he said and drank.
“To the bride,” Anne and Dylan repeated. Even Dylan seemed to be taking the occasion very seriously—his tone was suddenly somber, and there were no signs of a smirk on his face. He was supporting her. He had her back. They all did.
One by one, the family eventually drifted off to bed. Anne left the living room first, citing the fact that she had to be up early to prepare for the wedding. About an hour later, Ben kissed Dakota on the cheek and joined his wife. Dylan stayed a while longer, but eventually he too yawned and stretched and said he thought he really ought to get to bed. “Will you be okay?” he asked Dakota, who was curled up in an armchair hugging a throw pillow and staring at late night TV programming.
“I’m fine,” she said. In truth, she hadn’t felt at peace since they’d returned home from the restaurant. But there was nothing Dylan could do about it other than distracting her, and the TV could do that job just as well as her brother could. He might as well get some rest.