by Holly Rayner
Dylan paused and regarded her “You really are nervous, aren’t you?” he said. “We were teasing, but…you really do have cold feet.”
“Not cold feet,” she said. “I’m not having second thoughts about the wedding. But yeah, I guess I am nervous. Maybe it’s what Mom was saying, you know. All the cameras. Everyone’s going to be watching me tomorrow.”
“And since when do you get stage fright?” Dylan folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Doesn’t sound like you at all, Dakota. If anything, I would have expected you to be excited about all the publicity. I think you’re nervous because you like him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Majeed. You went into this thinking it wouldn’t be emotional, that it was just a business deal, right? And somewhere along the way you realized you like him. You developed real feelings. And now you’re about to marry a guy you’re actually into after dating him for less than a month, and that’s a lot scarier than going in with a clear head.”
Dakota stared at her brother. Since when had he been so insightful? Dylan had always been the troublemaker of the family, never one to think twice about the ramifications of his actions or the deeper meaning of anything. And yet, somehow, he had her all figured out.
He tipped his glass toward her, drained his drink, set it down on an end table, and headed upstairs, leaving Dakota alone to her thoughts. Was Dylan right? Was she afraid to marry Majeed because she’d developed real feelings for him?
She couldn’t deny that she liked him. He was incredibly smart and funny, and she enjoyed bantering with him, trading lighthearted barbs or debating things. He was cultured, well read, and politically engaged, not at all the pampered palace prince she had expected when she’d first set out to get to know him. He was, she thought, the best friend she had here in Baraq. Even if they hadn’t shared the common experience of being pressured by their families to clean up public relations messes, she would have liked him for who he was. She was glad he was in her life.
But that wasn’t what Dylan was suggesting, was it? He seemed to think Dakota’s feelings for Majeed went beyond respect and friendly affection, that she felt romantically toward him. That had certainly not been part of the plan. Dakota thought of Majeed’s cousin Padma, the one who had entered reluctantly into her own arranged marriage only to develop a bond of love with her husband over time. But this wasn’t over time. That had been Dylan’s point. She and Majeed hadn’t even known each other for two months.
But Dakota couldn’t deny that she felt something. When she’d learned that he wouldn’t be coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight, she had worried about her family’s reactions, but before that concern had entered her mind, the very first thing she’d felt had been a flicker of sadness that she wouldn’t be seeing him tonight. She had been looking forward, not to the dinner itself necessarily, but to spending time with Majeed. Now she had lost out on the opportunity to see him the night before the wedding. They would be married tomorrow, but tonight, she missed him.
It was strange, but on this pivotal night, when Dakota’s whole life was about to change, there was only one person she wanted to talk to. She wanted to stay up late, not with her family and a bottle of vodka, but with Majeed. She wanted to tell him everything she was feeling—her excitement at the idea of being at the center of tomorrow’s festivities, her anxiety about what it would mean to be someone’s wife, her worries about joining the royal family, and, under everything, how reassuring it was to know that he would be by her side for all of it. She felt so much braver thinking that he would be there with her.
Did she love Majeed?
And was there any possibility—unlikely though it seemed—that he might love her in return?
If only they were together tonight. If only there was some way they could have this conversation before getting married. Because if he did love her, if he was feeling everything she was, then their wedding would no longer be a business arrangement at all, would it? It would be hasty and somewhat reckless, but imagine if the two of them could stand up tomorrow and genuinely say they were marrying for love. How much better would that be?
And if Majeed didn’t love her…well, Dakota thought, she’d want to know that too. She would want to know so she didn’t let her own feelings balloon out of control if he was never going to return them. It wasn’t too late to rein this in. She was a professional.
Dakota went up to bed, but hours went by before she was able to sleep. Her mind was locked in an image of herself and Majeed standing at the altar, hand in hand, about to kiss. As she stood there, in her mind, she imagined that she would be able to tell by the look in Majeed’s eyes or the feel of his kiss whether he felt the way she did. Somehow, in the moment, she would know. And if he returned her feelings…well, then she would allow herself to fall completely.
Chapter 11
The sky was clear and bright on the morning of the royal wedding. Dakota lay in bed gazing at the ceiling and feeling, already, like a princess. She ought to get up, she knew. There was a lot to do today. But as long as no one came to get her, she would permit herself to lie here and enjoy her last day in her family home.
Tonight, she would be a bin Ayad. After the wedding, she and Majeed would leave for their honeymoon in Rome, and by the time they returned, all her things would have been sent over to the wing of the bin Ayad manor they would occupy together. Her life would become even more public than it had ever been.
And she would have Majeed.
A knock came at her door. “Dakota? Are you awake?” her mother called softly.
Dakota sat up in bed. “Come in.”
Anne entered the room, balancing a breakfast tray with pancakes and bacon. “Good morning, sweetheart. Your prep team is waiting down in the living room, but I thought you might like to have a quiet breakfast before everything gets started.”
“Prep team?” Dakota asked.
“Hair, makeup, seamstresses to make sure your dress fits perfectly,” Anne said. “The photographer is here too. He wants to take some shots of you getting ready, and some of our whole family, before we go over to the hall. And the bridesmaids are here too. They’re already getting dressed. Majeed’s sister is just lovely.”
“The bridesmaids!” Dakota had forgotten that Rachel would be here. She was close with her brother’s girlfriend and was looking forward to seeing her. A part of her wanted to race downstairs, but she forced herself to stay calm. Today was going to be hectic enough. Her mother had been very thoughtful by planning this short window for Dakota to relax and get something to eat. She popped a strip of bacon into her mouth and gazed out the window. The weather was perfect. That was a good sign.
“Has anyone heard anything from the bin Ayads yet?” she asked, taking a sip of juice.
“Karida tells us everything’s running smoothly on their end too,” Anne said. “They’ve got a photographer of their own, of course, so we’ll be able to look at the photos of their family getting ready once it’s all over.”
Dakota finished her breakfast and climbed out of bed, pulling on her bathrobe. She hadn’t expected to feel so charmed, so magical, today, but it felt like a real wedding. It was a real wedding, she reminded herself.
She went into the bathroom adjoining her room and washed her face, then looked at herself in the mirror. It was a surprise to see the same old Dakota looking back at her, the same face she’d seen in the mirror all her life. She felt like a different person today.
The living room was unrecognizable. All the furniture had been pushed back to make way for three-way mirrors, pedestals, a makeup station, and professional lighting rigs. Dylan stood on the pedestal having final adjustments made to his tuxedo. In front of the photographer’s backdrop, Karida and Rachel stood clutching bouquets of roses and chatting like old friends. Ben Lee was on the phone, but when he saw Anne and Dakota enter he hung up and rushed over. “The bride is here!”
Everyone dropped what they were doing and hurried to Dakota’s side. Ra
chel enveloped her in a hug. “I can’t believe you’re getting married!” she cried. “This is like something out of a fairy tale.”
Karida leaned in to hug Dakota too. “We’re all so excited you’re joining the family,” she said. “Majeed speaks very highly of you.”
“I think he’s great too,” Dakota said, feeling awkward.
The girls escorted her over to the makeup station. “Karida’s father hired the best beauty team for us,” Rachel gushed. “Check out my makeup. I look like I’m going to a celebrity awards show, don’t you think?”
“I think you look amazing,” Dakota said. “But then, you always do. It’ll take a lot more work to make me look like royalty.”
“Nonsense,” Karida said briskly as the makeup artist got to work. “You are gorgeous. Everyone agrees on that. The makeup will just enhance your natural beauty.”
Dakota relaxed into the chair. It was soothing to be worked on, and she let her thoughts drift to Majeed. What was he doing to get ready for the big day? And what would he think when he saw her? She found herself looking forward to his reaction. Hopefully he would be stunned. She smiled, imagining it.
“Please keep your face still,” the makeup artist said tightly.
“Sorry.” Dakota relaxed her face muscles.
When Dakota’s makeup was finished, a hairdresser appeared and took over. She teased and combed and arranged Dakota’s hair architecturally on her head, clipping in a gauze veil. The headpiece was designed not to cover Dakota’s face, for which she was grateful. The moment she was most excited for, in all of today’s hoopla, was seeing Majeed for the first time as she walked toward him down the aisle, and it would be that much better not to have a layer of fabric between them.
With hair and makeup done, the girls headed into the kitchen for a sustenance break. Rachel and Karida, who were already in their bridesmaid dresses, were instructed by the prep team to tuck towels into their necklines to protect against spills. Champagne and orange juice sat on the counter, and Rachel prepared mimosas and passed them around. “To Princess Dakota!” she cheered, raising a glass, and Dakota and Karida followed suit. “To Sheikha Dakota,” Karida said.
“Is that the word for it?” Dakota asked. “Sheikha?”
Karida nodded. “I would have thought Majeed would have told you that.”
“We mostly focused on getting to know each other,” Dakota admitted. “Not on the particulars of royal life.”
“Hmm.” Karida sipped her drink.
A feeling of foreboding crept over Dakota. “Is that bad?”
“It’s different,” Karida said. “Most people who marry into royal families have grown up with an understanding of the different roles royals play. Majeed should have done a better job preparing you for what being a sheikha would mean. I’m surprised he didn’t. I’m surprised he didn’t consider educating you to be very important.”
“Well, Majeed isn’t actually in power, is he?” Rachel said. “I thought this country was run by an Emir.”
“And your father is the head of the bin Ayad family, not Majeed,” Dakota pointed out. “How many royal responsibilities does he really have?”
“It’s just strange that you don’t know,” Karida said quietly. “I’m not judging you, Dakota. I see how hard you’re working to make this a success. But with the tension between our families and the differences in our cultures…it feels like a long shot. Don’t you agree?”
Rachel was frowning. “I’m not sure there’s any reason to be so negative. Come on, there’s a wedding in a few hours. We’re supposed to be celebrating here.”
“Of course,” Karida said, raising her glass again. “I apologize. And please don’t allow what I said to worry you, Dakota. It doesn’t matter that you’re coming in without much knowledge of royal life because we’ll be there to help you. Majeed and I, my brother Nadim, our parents—everyone wants this to go well.”
“Are you sure?” Dakota asked. She didn’t want to point it out, but historically the bin Ayads hadn’t exactly been heartbroken when things weren’t going well for the Lees.
“Of course,” Karida said. “He’s my brother. I want him to be happy. And I believe you make him happy. These last few weeks he’s been practically floating.”
Rachel grinned. “Sounds like somebody’s in love.”
Dakota took a long gulp of her drink. Could Rachel be right? Was Karida telling the truth?
Lunch was Dakota’s final meal before the wedding. “You’ve got to eat light,” Anne said, placing a salad in front of her daughter. “It’s important not to bloat before you put on the dress.”
“Can I at least have some dressing for this?” Dakota asked, spearing a piece of grilled chicken. It was juicy and tender, and she knew the caterers who had been sent to take care of her must have been the best Majeed and his family could find. But still, the salad was dry and bland.
“No dressing,” Anne said firmly. “Too much salt.”
Dakota sighed and ate quickly. In the living room, the prep stations had been cleared away, leaving only the photography equipment and the mirror. She was excited to get into her dress, which she had never seen in person. She had made the selection from a website, and the royal tailors had measured her so they would be able to build the dress to fit her perfectly.
Dylan came into the kitchen, strode over to the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. He cracked it open and took a long swig. “Ladies.”
“Give me some of that,” Dakota said, holding out her hand. Her mother had disappeared into the living room to check on the photographer.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Are you supposed to have beer? I thought you were on an all-salad diet today.”
“Just a sip, Dyl, come on.”
He passed her the bottle, and Dakota swallowed considerably more than just a sip before passing it back. The warmth of it stole over her, relaxing her muscles.
“God,” she said, letting her head fall back on her neck. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Hey.” Dylan sat down beside her at the table. “Are you okay?”
His expression was deeply serious. His eyes, fixed on hers, were full of concern.
“I’m okay,” Dakota said. “What do you mean?”
“If you want to get out of here,” Dylan said, “if you don’t want to go through with this…well, say the word. I’m your guy.”
Dakota was touched. “Are you offering to help me run away from my wedding, Dyl?”
“I’m saying, if that’s something you want to do, if you’ve decided this arrangement isn’t for you, I’d understand. We could get out of here right now, no weird conversation with Mom and Dad, no phoning the bin Ayads to explain. We could just hightail it to Greece for a while and wait for everything to die down. Make Mom and Dad explain why you didn’t go through with it.”
“You know we’d probably be kicked out of Baraq,” Dakota said. “We’d have to go back to the States.”
“Well, that wouldn’t kill us or anything,” Dylan said. “If you’d rather do that, you have my support.”
“Thanks, Dyl.” She reached over and hugged him. “I’m good, though. I promise.”
“Wow, Dakota,” Rachel said, sighing. “You look gorgeous.”
Dakota turned on the podium in front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection. The dress had been perfectly tailored and fit her like a dream. It was ivory colored, with long, sheer sleeves and a structured neckline in the shape of a butterfly’s wings. The outer layer of the dress was lace, patterned with leaves and pearls, giving the whole thing a very opulent look. Dakota stared at her reflection, taking it in—the dress, the ornate hairdo, the bedazzled veil, and the flawless makeup. It had all been done to perfection.
Rachel and Karida, in their gold bridesmaid dresses, climbed up on the pedestal behind her, bouquets of red roses in their hands. It made quite a picture. Dakota could hardly believe she was the centerpiece in this beautiful image. Yes, she was used to being in the spotlight, i
n front of cameras, but never like this. Today she would be the focus. Everyone was coming to see her.
Anne Lee entered the room in her mother-of-the-bride dress. It was an elegant pale-gold shift, cinched at the waist with a belt, overlaid with a patterned lace reminiscent of Dakota’s own dress. Behind her came Ben, clean-shaven and tidy looking in his tux, and Dylan, fiddling awkwardly with his tie.
“Right,” said the photographer. “Family photos here at the house, and then we head off to the hall. Should we do the bridal party first?”
The photo session was actually a lot of fun. The photographer told jokes and got the girls laughing, and Dakota could tell that the finished shots would look like they were of three best friends—quite an achievement, considering she and Karida had never really spoken before today. She liked Majeed’s sister and imagined a friendship would probably develop eventually, so it was a good thing their wedding photos would reflect that.
The bridesmaids stepped aside, and the photographer took pictures of Dakota with her family. These were handled a little more seriously, although he couldn’t prevent Dylan from making faces in a few of the shots. The session ended with several pictures of Dakota by herself—some from behind, some sitting on the couch gazing longingly out the window, some close up of her smiling or laughing. “These are the ones we’re likely to submit for publication,” the photographer explained. “You’re the people’s Sheikha, coming as you did from humble beginnings.”
“Humble beginnings,” Dylan scoffed.
Dakota, though, understood what he was getting at. Theirs had been a privileged upbringing. Dakota couldn’t remember ever wanting for any material thing in her life. And this photographer was making it sound like she had overcome adversity. It was silly.
The journey to the hall where the wedding was to be held was beyond strange. They traveled in a motorcade, surrounded by armed guards, and as they wound their way through the streets of Kezab, she saw people stopping by the side of the road and waving at the cars as they went by like they were watching a parade. Her nerves spiked. This was more than a spectacle to these people. They were greeting the newest member of their royal family. They felt love and devotion for her. What if she let them down?