Christmas Bride for the Sheikh

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘It’s going to be wonderful, Maggie,’ Flo said as they lay being massaged, but despite her brave words even Flo could not let go of her tension.

  Not just about the no-show of Hazin.

  Today her best friend would be married and become a princess and the future Queen.

  Flo looked over and, given she was so pregnant, Maggie lay on her back. Her eyes were closed as one maid massaged her scalp. Two others worked quietly on her feet.

  No, it was not a regular spa day.

  Flo was scared of change and did not want this valued friendship to slip away, yet she did not see how it could possibly stay the same.

  She said nothing, though, for today was about the wedding, and Maggie was already nervous enough.

  ‘What happens now?’ Flo asked as they were led, wrapped in hammam towels, back through the tunnels to Maggie’s suite.

  ‘I guess hair and make-up,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ll ask Kumu to have your clothes and things brought over to my suite.’

  But it was not to be, for they found out that Flo could not be with Maggie in the final preparations.

  ‘Only family can be present,’ Kumu, who took care of details, explained.

  ‘But Maggie doesn’t have any family,’ Flo said. ‘I’m her closest friend. We’re like sisters.’

  ‘There can be no exceptions,’ Kumu responded, and then turned to the bride-to-be. ‘I am sorry, Maggie.’

  ‘Surely...’ Flo started, and was about to put on her assertive midwife voice, but she knew it might be best not to use it today so she changed her tone and turned to her friend. ‘Maggie?’ she checked. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Maggie said, but Flo could see that her teeth were chattering. ‘You go and get ready.’

  ‘In a bit,’ Flo started, but it was clear she was no longer welcome.

  ‘I’ll see you at the service.’ Maggie tried to be brave. ‘Wish me luck.’

  ‘You don’t need luck,’ Flo said. ‘You’re going to do beautifully. I just know it.’

  Flo was not best pleased as she made her way to her suite, but there was nothing she could do.

  The next time she saw Maggie it would be at the ceremony.

  After that, Maggie and Ilyas and other Royals would appear on the Palace balcony and then there was to be a formal meal before the couple went to the desert.

  She doubted there would be even a moment to speak properly with her friend.

  And tomorrow Flo flew home to London.

  Things were changing and there was nothing she could do, except get herself ready for the wedding.

  Her hair had never been silkier and Flo decided she would leave it down, so she took out her tongs and added a few curls.

  Then a few more.

  Whatever oil they had used was amazing.

  The treatments had done wonders for her skin and all she needed was a little blush and eyeliner and then mascara and she was done.

  Flo put on a silk robe that had been left out for her and headed out onto the balcony, willing herself to be calm. Yet the sight of all the planes and helicopters was daunting. This was a huge Royal wedding and Maggie was facing it alone.

  And as for Hazin...

  She scanned the tails of the jets but she didn’t know what she was looking for.

  Flo just wanted to see him.

  Not for the sake of his brother.

  It was selfish of her perhaps, but she had an aching need to see Hazin again.

  She and Maggie had been shopping before they’d left for Zayrinia and Flo had found the perfect dress.

  It was full length and worked with all the guidelines, but it was bright red and as sexy as hell.

  And had been bought with Hazin in mind.

  She put on her very red lipstick, which had been bought with both the dress and Hazin in mind!

  It killed her that he wouldn’t be there to see it.

  Surely he might still come, Flo thought as she headed to take her place in the gardens.

  There was still no sign of Hazin, so the dress and lipstick were rather in vain.

  But then she forgot about him when Maggie arrived.

  She was smiling so widely and seemed utterly relaxed, so unlike the tense woman Flo had left.

  It was the most beautiful ceremony, and it was clear they were deeply in love.

  And there was time to speak after.

  Maggie made the time for them.

  ‘Did they drug you?’ Flo beamed. ‘You looked so calm...’

  ‘Stop it.’ Maggie laughed. ‘Ilyas and I spoke before the ceremony.’

  ‘You saw him?’

  ‘No.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘We just spoke and it calmed me down a lot. I have to go out to the balcony now. Will you come up and wait for me there?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Ilyas and Maggie led the way back to the Palace and the Royals and Flo walked behind.

  She wouldn’t be going onto the balcony, of course, it was just nice to be a part of things. But then, just as they turned on the grand stairs, the entrance doors to the Palace opened and a sight for sore eyes staggered in.

  Hazin.

  His hair was dishevelled, and he was dressed in a crumpled suit and carrying a bottle of cognac. He clearly hadn’t shaved in days.

  ‘Keep walking,’ someone advised, but of course the procession halted while Ilyas took charge and went to deal with his errant younger brother.

  ‘Ilyas!’ The Queen called him back but he ignored her summons. ‘You...’ the Queen said, and Flo was startled as she met the Royal glare. ‘You’re a nurse—deal with Hazin.’

  ‘I’m a midwife, actually.’

  ‘It’s the same thing.’ The Queen dismissed Flo with a wave of her hand.

  Flo would have loved to tap her on the shoulder and correct her, but she had actually done her general nursing too.

  It had been a very long time since she had been in the emergency department and dealing with drunks, though.

  It was like riding a bike once you got down to it.

  Hazin was led off by the guards and on the Queen’s instructions Flo followed.

  Down corridor after corridor they went and she found herself in an apartment within the Palace.

  There the guards placed him on the bed.

  ‘Thank you.’ Flo smiled at them and when they were gone she stood there and looked at Hazin.

  He really was terribly gorgeous with his tie undone and his shirt untucked. His eyelashes were flickering and she knew he was only pretending to be asleep. She looked at the bottle of cognac in his hand.

  ‘I’m surprised you didn’t drop it,’ Flo said, and took it from his grip.

  Yes, it was like riding a bike, for her training was ingrained and she knew he wasn’t drunk!

  Drunks weren’t so pretty!

  And Hazin had told her himself that he didn’t drink.

  ‘I know you,’ he said as he opened one eye slightly.

  ‘Indeed you do.’

  She bent over and he frowned as her lips hovered over his.

  ‘Is that within your nursy duties, Florence?’

  ‘You’re stone cold sober, Hazin. Couldn’t you at least have taken a swig from the bottle?’

  He smiled.

  Busted.

  ‘I can’t stand the stuff.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just stay away if you didn’t want to come?’

  Hazin didn’t answer that.

  It was a good question indeed.

  ‘Why didn’t you want to be at your brother’s wedding?’

  ‘It isn’t the wedding so much...’ He closed his eyes and it was all too hard to explain. ‘Maybe it is,’ Hazin said. ‘The la
st wedding I was at...’

  ‘Was yours.’ Flo said. ‘Maggie told me.’

  ‘What else did she tell you?’

  It was time to be honest, Flo decided, for pretending she had no idea who he was hadn’t served them well. ‘That you hope to be disinherited.’

  ‘I never meant that to get out,’ Hazin said, and he told her first-hand what had happened in his cabin that day. ‘I was fed up,’ he said. ‘I had tried coming home for a visit but ended up taking out the yacht. I invited a few friends and...’ He shrugged. It had been the usual debauched party. ‘I was just tired of it and I went into my cabin and Maggie was there. She’d gone to lie down. I could tell she was upset and she mentioned it was the anniversary of her mother’s death. She said how she missed having a family. I told her she was lucky, how I was sick of mine, and that I wouldn’t mind being disinherited. It was how I felt on the day. I might have no choice in the matter now.’

  He was making the choice for them, Flo was sure, and she was rather sure she knew why. ‘Maggie also said that you have to give a speech for the anniversary of your wife’s death.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’

  He sank back on the pillows.

  ‘When is that?’

  ‘December.’

  ‘It would be hard to do...’

  ‘You have no idea,’ he said, though not unkindly, more wearily. ‘Go,’ Hazin said after a little while. ‘I don’t need a nurse.’

  ‘Could you use a friend?’

  ‘I don’t need one of those either.’

  ‘Are you sure you want me to go?’ Flo checked, and he nodded.

  Hazin liked it that she didn’t push and he watched her depart and close the door.

  It felt odd, having her here.

  Hazin behaved badly, but never when he was at home.

  Not in this bedroom.

  There had been no one since Petra in this bed.

  The Palace and furnishings were intricate and ancient. Hazin could hardly have a clear-out and pop out to the furniture store, so he had asked for a new suite in the Palace.

  His father had told him to toughen up.

  Hazin could tell no one his feelings.

  He looked out at the glorious sky and wished the drapes were closed.

  Everyone assumed they knew why he had gone off the rails—Hazin’s grieving, they’d said.

  Of course he had been grieving, for Petra had been nineteen when she’d died and he had done everything he could to save her. Flying in different doctors for opinion after opinion. An operation had left her unable to have children and he would never forgive his parents for their reaction to that news.

  They felt they had chosen unwisely.

  Hazin could not forgive them for that.

  He had been by Petra’s side every step of the way and had held her hand through the hell of surgery and chemotherapy. And, when there had been nothing more that could be done, Petra had asked to come home.

  Here.

  Her parents and brother had moved into the vast apartment and they had done all they could to love and support Petra.

  Sometimes when tears had refused to remain hidden, Kumu, Petra’s assistant, had stepped in and read to her or sat a while.

  Hazin and his in-laws would step out onto the balcony and comfort and draw strength from each other before heading back to her side.

  Now and then, Hazin would carry her from the bed to glimpse the desert and enjoy the warm breeze on her skin. Hazin had made her smile as often as he could. In fact, making Petra smile had been his daily mission.

  But for all Hazin had cared, he hadn’t loved Petra.

  On his wedding day, staring out at the cheering masses, he’d known he had married in an attempt to please his father, rather than follow his dream and study classical archaeology and ancient history at university.

  He had told Petra how much he loved her, though, and had done everything he could not to let her know his truth.

  Yet she had.

  Right near the end of her far too short life, he had lain with her on this very bed, holding her to him, refusing to believe it was close to goodbye.

  And then she’d said it. ‘I want you to find true love, Hazin.’

  ‘I have already found it.’

  ‘No, Hazin. You have been a wonderful husband. I have been so happy in my time with you but I know you don’t love me.’

  ‘Petra—’

  ‘Stop.’ She had told him and he’d been able to see her struggle to open her eyes and that every breath had been an effort. ‘I want you to find the one who makes your heart beat too fast.’

  And then hers had stopped.

  He loathed it that she had felt unloved.

  To Hazin’s eyes he had even messed up on Petra’s deathbed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FLO HEADED BACK down to the wedding celebrations, which were in full swing.

  The feast was incredible and Maggie and Ilyas looked so happy. It was a wonderful occasion and full of food and much dancing.

  And then came the gorgeous candle dance. Flo had no idea what it was but smiled as Maggie stood with two lit candles, just enjoying the goings-on, when unexpectedly she was handed one herself.

  All the woman were, and with candles lit they stood behind the bride and followed her to the sounds of a soulful song. And then Flo was moved along the entourage so she stood by her friend and Flo realised then that this should have been Maggie’s mum.

  It was a special moment and Flo danced alone with her friend, who had been through so much.

  And then it was the men’s turn to dance and Maggie must have been thinking the same thing—that Hazin should be here.

  Yet Flo understood why he could not be.

  ‘How’s Hazin?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Flo said, but she didn’t divulge to Maggie that he hadn’t been drunk at all. ‘I’ll check on him later.’

  As the celebrations eased down, and the bride and groom were about to leave for the desert, she said goodbye to her friend.

  ‘Thank you for coming all this way.’

  ‘It was hardly a burden. I’ve had the most wonderful time.’

  And now it was goodbye.

  Flo held back from crying until she could be alone in her suite. But she would miss Maggie terribly. They had been friends for years. When Flo had first started at the Primary she had found the chocolate café and their friendship had soon formed.

  And she didn’t know how this marriage and Maggie’s new title might change that, only that she knew it would.

  She was so ready for a good old howl that she actually forgot about Hazin, right up until she got to her suite.

  His apartment was quite a walk from hers but she trudged down there.

  Yes, she wanted to check on him, but not because he was drunk.

  She wanted to check on him, on them, while she had the chance, for she loathed the way they’d parted.

  There was a guard outside, one of the guards who had deposited him on the bed, and he gave Flo a nod and let her in. She walked down a long corridor and when she got to his bedroom she knocked softly and opened the door quietly.

  Moonlight lit the room.

  Hazin was asleep on top of the bed. In fact, he was just as he had been when she’d left. Flo slipped off his shoes and covered him with a large throw and he stirred.

  ‘I told you,’ he said, ‘I don’t need a nurse.’

  ‘I know you don’t,’ Flo said. ‘And whether or not you need a friend, tonight I do.’ She slipped off her shoes and climbed onto the bed beside him. Without a word, he pulled her in and covered her with the throw.

  It wasn’t sexy or anything, it was just nice, to lie there in the quiet.

 
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew who you were.’ Flo said.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He gave her arm a squeeze. ‘It was a good night until then.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘So you were there for Maggie?’

  ‘She wanted to tell Ilyas about the baby.’ Flo nodded slowly as she looked back at that night and then sighed. ‘I’m going to miss her an awful lot.’

  ‘You’ll still see her. She’s hardly going to have to save up her frequent flyer miles to come and see you.’

  ‘Perhaps, but it won’t be the same. I was so happy when she came back from her year away. I was looking forward to being like an aunty to the baby...’

  ‘You still can be,’ he said, and then asked a question. ‘Did you used to go out on the town together?’

  Flo smiled to herself. ‘We met for coffee most days. Maggie’s not into clubs.’

  ‘And you are?’

  Not any more, Flo thought, but she did not say it.

  ‘So when does your self-imposed exile end?’

  Flo lay there and still said nothing.

  It had ended with him, but she could not see herself heading back out there.

  Something had shifted within her on the very night she had met Hazin, though she hadn’t explored it properly and could not do so now, for she doubted that Hazin wanted to hear on this night that she was completely crazy about him.

  He misread her silence.

  Or not.

  For there was sadness in the air; he just didn’t put it down to being about him.

  ‘What happened, Flo?’ Hazin already knew that her ex had been married but he wanted to hear it from her. ‘Why have you been hiding yourself away?’

  She hadn’t just been hiding, it had been a punishment, one she had inflicted on herself.

  ‘He was married,’ Flo said. ‘I honestly didn’t know, though looking back I should have. I knew he went away on business a lot. At the time, I was fine with it because it was coming up for Christmas...’ She thought about it some more. It had actually been a bit of a relief when he’d gone away for he’d liked to see her at short notice and would be put out if she had other plans. On-call sex, really, now she looked back. ‘We didn’t actually go out that much,’ Flo admitted. ‘I met him at Dion’s and after that it was always bloody hotels.’