The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be

by Holly Rayner

  “Oh hey, hot mama,” Sarah commented when she saw me.

  “Not as hot as you,” I replied.

  The bride-to-be had opted for a sparkly halter top and a black miniskirt with a pair of black espadrilles. Sarah wasn’t normally the type to wear makeup, but tonight she was done up to the nines. It made me feel a bit plain.

  “You’re not wearing any makeup?” Ariana asked.

  “I don’t really have any,” I replied.

  The girls swarmed me like a flock of seagulls at an abandoned picnic. One second I was my normal self but in a nice dress, and the next I was a downright bombshell. Heather, the self-professed “master of hair,” had curled my mane into sleek waves. Ariana and Elyse collectively had an arsenal of cosmetics that would rival a Sephora. When they were finished with me, my blue eyes popped and my lips were poutier and more defined.

  I couldn’t stop looking at myself in the mirror.

  There you are. I haven’t seen you in years.

  I’d missed this side of me—the girly, glamorous side. She used to come out all the time. I hadn’t ever expected that having a kid would change me so much. It was nice to feel like I’d turned back the clock, if only for one night.

  “You look amazing, Skyler,” Sarah said. “I’m tempted to tell you to take it all off just so I can go back to being the most glamorous one here.”

  “No you don’t!” Heather objected.

  I laughed. “I’m glad you like it, babe,” I said, grinning. “Because you’ll be the one taking me home tonight.”

  Sarah winked. “Aren’t I the lucky one.”

  We had another drink in the room and then headed down to the restaurant for dinner. We’d chosen the main hotel restaurant for our first evening’s meal because there was a coupon in our welcome package, but also because we were all so beat from our day out that we didn’t feel like straying too far from the hotel.

  “You know what we should do tonight?” Sarah said, munching on one of the biggest burgers I’d ever seen.

  “What?” Heather asked.

  “Let’s save the clubbing for tomorrow and spend tonight in the casino,” she replied. “I’ve been dying to play a few games of blackjack.”

  I sensed Heather had originally planned on something a little more adventurous, but she didn’t argue. It was Sarah’s weekend after all.

  I didn’t love the plan either. Spending money to ride a roller coaster or go to a show was one thing, but throwing money at a game you could never truly win was another thing entirely.

  “I like that idea,” said Heather. “But let’s get out of here, at least. Let’s go somewhere fabulous, like the Bellagio, or Paris!”

  After some deliberation, we decided on the Bellagio since Ocean’s Eleven was one of Elyse’s favorite movies. Though Heather assured me that it wouldn’t cost any more to gamble at the Bellagio than it would at our own casino, I still balked at the idea of going somewhere even fancier than where we currently were.

  But I was here to support my friend and have fun, even if we weren’t having my kind of fun. I was beginning to feel like I didn’t know how to have fun anymore. The other girls had let their inhibitions fly, whereas I couldn’t help but tally up every cent I spent.

  That was why I was so excited that all you had to do to get free drinks at the Bellagio—or any Vegas casino, as Sarah informed me—was sit and play one of the penny slot machines. We took up a whole row of machines, adding to the cacophony of electronic chimes and beeps.

  “This is the most fun you can have with your pants on,” Elyse said, sipping her beer. She pulled the lever again and watched the symbols spin.

  “Are you kidding?” replied Sarah. “This is the most fun you can have, period.” She grinned, her eyes glued to the screen. “I’m up nearly three dollars.”

  I was playing much more slowly than the rest of them. Sure, a dollar here and there wouldn’t make too much of a difference, but I’d already fed the machine five of my hard-earned dollars and wasn’t anxious to give away any more.

  That being said, Elyse and Sarah were onto something. The flashing lights and smoky atmosphere of the casino floor gave it a sense of dream-like fantasy, and the chance of winning back my money for only a small sacrifice made it hard to quit. Not that any of us had tried.

  After a few free drinks, however, my bladder demanded I take a break.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” I announced, grabbing my clutch from between the machines.

  Normally I could have expected at least one of the girls to hop up and come with me, but all four of them were far too occupied by their games. I couldn’t blame them. Besides, I’d never been much for group bathroom visits.

  “Have fun,” Sarah said.

  “Make good choices,” Heather chorused.

  Ariana and Elyse said something too, but I was already on my way toward the main path.

  I took my time on the way back from the restroom, and my tipsy meandering led me past all sorts of interesting characters: elderly women camped out in front of slot machines, couples draped across each other at card tables, cowboys with wide-brimmed hats and booming voices—everything I’d ever pictured Vegas to be.

  Apparently, I was too engrossed in my people watching to look where I was going. One second my feet were connected with the solid, carpeted floor. The next I was veering off sharply to the right as I tripped over my own foot.

  I barely had time to register the fact that I was falling before I collided into something solid.

  No, not something. Someone.

  FOUR

  I fell, yelping in alarm. Someone said something in a language I couldn’t understand. Then I collided with a man at the craps table.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I started spouting out apologies before I’d even righted myself.

  I was face-first against the man’s shirt. He must have been quite a bit taller than me, because my face didn’t rise above his shoulders. That being said, I was leaning into him pretty heavily.

  “I honestly have no idea how that happened. Jeez, I’m such a—”

  I stopped speaking as soon as I looked up at his face.

  Holy moly macaroni.

  The man who caught me looked like he’d walked off the cover of some high-profile business magazine. He looked down at me with warm, chocolaty eyes and full, curved lips. He had the rich, dark complexion of someone from the Middle East or Western Asia.

  While I continued gaping at him, he set me back on my feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was lightly accented and sounded Middle-Eastern in origin.

  He stared down at me through lashes as dark as the inky black waves on his head. The dusting of stubble on his elegant chin was just as dark. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I knew I should say something, but the embarrassment surging through my veins made me fear that if I opened my mouth I’d only end up making more of a fool of myself.

  “Mr. Afsal,” a woman’s voice called. I couldn’t see her behind my savior’s broad frame.

  He glanced over, his hands still on my shoulders to hold me steady. “I know. I threw the dice too early. It’s fine.”

  Oh God! Not only had I bowled over the most attractive man in the casino—and I didn’t need to see the rest of the men there to know this for sure—but I’d messed up his game too! How much money had I just lost him?

  My face flushed with heat. I readied myself to pull away from him.

  And then the dealer said, “Actually, Mr. Afsal—that’s craps!”

  The table around us went up in cheers. Startled, I went to take a step back, but the man didn’t let me. He grinned and pulled me into a tight hug. His deep, masculine laugh rumbled through me, sending a shiver of delight down my spine.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. My face was pressed into the soft cotton of his shirt again, only this time I noticed the intoxicating smell of his cologne. I breathed in the scent of sandalwood and something musky before he released me again.

&n
bsp; “What’s happening?” he repeated. “Do you know anything about craps?”

  “Not a thing.”

  I glanced around at the table, where a crowd of people had gathered and were celebrating something. I found it odd that the man holding me hadn’t abandoned my clumsy ass to join in.

  “Let’s put it this way.” He smiled and tapped my chin affectionately. “You must be some kind of lucky charm, because that throw I made just won me over twenty thousand dollars.”

  My mouth dropped open and a very undignified gasp escaped. And then I shrieked with joy, overcome with relief at not having ruined this guy’s day.

  Twenty. Thousand. Dollars. I’d never even seen that kind of money before. The fact that this guy had just won it because I hadn’t quite mastered the art of walking made me positively giddy.

  Mr. Afsal’s grin grew wider and he turned back to the table, pulling me with him to present me to the crowd. With a gentle arm around my shoulders, he nudged me forward. “This gorgeous woman is my new lucky charm!”

  People all around us cheered. A couple of them even surged through the crowd to place a hand on my arm or my hand for good luck. I was too excited to find it creepy. My heart was going a million miles a minute.

  “Mr. Afsal,” the dealer interrupted. “I’ll need you to watch while I count out your winnings.”

  “Of course.” He stepped around me to where the dealer began counting out stacks of chips.

  I took that as my cue to leave, though that didn’t stop me from lingering just a moment longer to check out my mysterious savior from behind. He was wearing a deep purple button-down shirt that probably had my face print on the front of it now but was immaculate from the back. His pants were jut normal black dress pants, but they fit him so well that I suspected winning twenty thousand wasn’t nearly as big a deal to him as it would be to me.

  I took one last look and slipped off back toward the slot machines, dreaming about what that kind of money would mean for Sam. I would put most of it away for college, of course, but I would spend a little of it now. Maybe we’d go on trip together somewhere fun, like Disneyland. Maybe even Disney World, if I was feeling really spendthrift.

  I found my friends exactly where I’d left them. Elyse turned to me as I sat down, her expression stern.

  “Sorry, that seat—oh.” She smiled. “Skyler. You’re back!”

  The rest of the girls glanced down at me from the line.

  “We thought you’d got lost,” Heather said.

  “Sarah wanted to send a search party,” Ariana added. “I told her you’d make it back to us eventually.”

  “You told me she probably fell asleep somewhere,” Sarah objected.

  I laughed. “You guys won’t believe what actually happened.”

  “If it’s crazier than the idea of you falling asleep on a busy casino floor, then I’m all ears,” Sarah said, sliding back from her machine and sipping at her drink. The rest of the girls followed suit, until I had a line of cheery faces waiting to hear my story.

  I told them about falling face-first into the guy at the craps table and about his lucky throw. Before I even had the chance to tell them how good-looking he was, Elyse interrupted to ask if he was sexy.

  “He was,” I confirmed. “Really sexy. He had these dreamy, expressive brown eyes. If he hadn’t turned away from me for a minute, you guys might never have gotten me back.”

  “Go back there and talk to him!” Sarah insisted. “He sounds like a total babe.”

  I shook my head, chuckling. “I can’t do that,” I said. “Just because I fell into him and caused him to win a ton of money doesn’t mean he wants me hanging around.”

  “You can’t profess to know that about him,” Heather pointed out. “You never asked. Maybe he did want you to hang around and you totally ditched.”

  “In which case, he probably wouldn’t want me coming back,” I reasoned. “Going back would just be really awkward.”

  “You’re talking yourself out of it because you’re scared,” Sarah observed, pointing one perfectly manicured finger at me. “You always do this.”

  “Hey!” I objected. “I’m just being realistic.”

  “You’re being a scaredy-cat,” Elyse said. “You’re in Las Vegas—this is the place to do crazy stuff like chatting up a handsome stranger.”

  “You don’t understand,” I reasoned. “He’s too handsome. I haven’t dated anyone since Sam was born, and the last time I flirted with a guy it was a complete accident. If I’m jumping back in the pool, I need to start at the shallow end.”

  “Since when has that ever taught anyone how to swim?” Sarah took a sip of her drink and raised an imperious brow. “If you can touch the bottom, you’re never going to learn how to stay afloat.”

  “I’m getting mixed messages from this metaphor,” Elyse said.

  “I’m with you,” Ariana chimed in. “But I do agree that you should go talk to this guy.”

  I released a sigh of frustration. “He was model hot, you guys. And really tall. He looked like the kind of guy who would pop up if you googled ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’ The only time I’d ever have enough confidence to approach a guy that attractive would be if I was really drunk and he was taking my order at McDonald’s.”

  All of a sudden, Sarah paled. Ariana and Elyse snickered. But it was Heather’s reaction, a tight, lip-biting smile, that let me know the reactions of the other three weren’t due to my unfunny joke.

  A feeling a dread settled into my stomach like a lead weight. The faintest whiff of male scent drifted to my nose. It was familiar. Too familiar.

  I turned to see the man I’d just been gabbing on about like an excited teenager standing right behind me.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said smoothly. He was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  My friends continued to titter among themselves while I stood there, dumbfounded. Heather eventually took the lead on the conversation.

  “Hello,” she said. “I think congratulations are in order.”

  He chuckled. “Thank you, though your friend should really take the credit for that.” He turned to me and inclined his head. “I failed to introduce myself at the table, and for that I apologize. I’m Sheikh Jalaal Afsal.”

  One of the girls gasped. I managed to keep it together, thankfully. “I’m Skyler Monroe,” I said. “These are my friends, Sarah, Heather, Elyse, and Ariana.” I pointed at them without turning around. Part of me was afraid if I blinked he’d be gone, like some sort of fever dream. The other part of me just couldn’t stop looking at his perfect face.

  “Do you think I could possibly steal you away for a thank-you drink, Skyler?” Jalaal asked. “I meant to ask you at the table, but you ran away from me.”

  I laughed nervously, heat flooding my face. “Uh, it’s my friend’s bachelorette party,” I said. “I don’t know if I—”

  “Go!” Sarah interjected, before I could finish my sentence.

  I glanced back at her. Her eyes were nearly as wide as the impish grin that cut through her face.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  It all seemed too good to be true. There had to be some reason I couldn’t have a drink with this guy, but Sarah looked anything but apprehensive at the thought of me leaving them.

  “Oh my God, yes!” she urged. “Get out of here, Skyler.”

  “If you don’t go, I’ll go,” Elyse added.

  Ariana nodded along, gobbling up my suitor with her eyes. Heather waggled her eyebrows at me.

  Embarrassed, I turned back to Jalaal and offered up an apologetic smile. “I suppose the people have spoken.”

  He extended a hand to help me up and I took it, hoping to God my hand wasn’t as sweaty as the back of my neck. The moment our hands touched, I felt an electric current skim through me.

  I was excited that Jalaal had come to find me, but everything I’d said about being nervous was true as well. I had no idea how to talk to men anymore. For the most part, I hadn’t wanted to over th
e past few years. I’d been occupied with raising my son and paying the bills, and I still hadn’t quite gotten over the taint my ex had left.

  What kind of dirtbag disappeared when his girlfriend was eight months pregnant with his son? It was a nightmare scenario that had made it hard for me to even think about dating in the years since. If Jackson hadn’t been able to commit to his own flesh and blood, how likely was it that I’d find a man who wanted to commit to me and all of my crazy problems now that I had a son, too?