"There. Now you look like a proper woman." She started moving again before Rachel could get an explanation of what that was supposed to mean, but after she'd handed over a credit card to the clerk, she spoke over her shoulder at Rachel. "The press will certainly have quite a bit to say about Nazir marrying an American woman, of course. So I'm sure that they'll be able to ignore, however briefly, if you don't look completely conservative. That doesn't mean we can have you coming out dressed like…"
"Oh," was all Rachel could think to say.
This whole thing seemed much more thought-out than she had realized, as if they were already expecting it. While she slept, there must have been several people sitting and discussing the ramifications of what she was about to do, and trying to minimize the effect it would have.
The only problem she had now was that nobody told her any of what they had decided or what they had learned. She was on her own to try to figure that out.
Rachel was surprised to find, when she slid into the seat, how comfortable it was to just be able to lean her head back and relax. She closed her eyes. If Tazeen wasn't going to explain what was happening, there was no reason to watch what they were doing. She could just let it happen.
She woke to the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "Miss Rachel," a voice was saying. "Miss Rachel, wake up."
Rachel's eyes snapped open. "Is everything okay?"
"We are here, Miss. It's time to wake up."
"What? Where?"
She looked out the window. They were in a parking lot, beside a large building that she didn't immediately recognize. Tazeen sat beside her, her hand still resting on Rachel's shoulder gently. "We have to go inside and get you dressed."
"Oh," Rachel said softly. "I see."
Tazeen's expression softened. "This has been very quick. I know it. But we have a very limited time right now. After tonight, you can be told more comopletely about what is going to be happening over the next several days. Yes?"
Rachel was still not completely awake. She couldn't have been, because Tazeen had never been so forthcoming with her before. She nodded groggily, and slid out of the car, following Tazeen. She only noticed out of the corner of her eye, the driver going around to the back and taking her new clothes out of the trunk.
Tazeen took her through a series of winding halls, signs all over the walls with Arabic text that Rachel could almost make out after her week of practice. But they were moving too quickly for her to stop and try to recognize every letter of every word. They came up to a door with a piece of paper on it, with what was presumably writing but seemed more like a scribble.
"This is it, Miss. Come inside with me, and I'll help you dress."
Rachel didn't respond, just went inside when the door was opened. There was a large vanity mirror, and a trio of chairs, but other than that the room was mostly empty. She was guided to the central chair, and Tazeen helped her to sit down comfortably.
She'd been told she was going to be getting dressed, but that wasn't the first thing. She was in the chair for nearly an hour before she took off her street clothes, with Tazeen and another woman carefully doing and redoing every aspect of her makeup until they had deemed it perfect.
Then, with the help of both women, she was wrapped up in her new dress and her new jacket, and her hijab. Then they stepped back and gauged their work, speaking in hushed tones, using words Rachel couldn't recognize. Then, with a long sigh, Tazeen's shoulders relaxed, and she spoke English for the first time in two hours.
"Good. Very good."
Rachel looked in the mirror. She didn't look like herself. She barely looked American, she realized. She looked like she fit in better than she had ever fit in back home, thanks to Tazeen's clothing selections. Fashionable, she thought, though she had no real way to be sure.
She pressed her hands against her stomach and watched the silhouette. She looked good like this. Svelte. Rachel tried not to smile too much. She wasn't sure what was going on, but if it was going to get her looking this good every day, then it couldn't be too bad.
What came next was a whirlwind of bright lights and speaking in Arabic too quickly for her to even try to follow. Rachel was guided from place to place by Tazeen who exchanged nothing more than sympathetic glances when the camera lights weren't flashing in directly at them. Both of them knew that this was too fast, too much. But they both knew that it was what Rachel had signed up for, and what was needed if everything were to go to plan.
By the time it was all done, Rachel didn't care about the explanation anymore. She just wanted to sleep, to be out of the public eye for a few minutes. She had thought, earlier that day, that the public eye would fit her well. That she'd be able to handle it, when she brought all of it down on herself. She knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had been wrong. There was no way she was ever going to be able to cope with this attention on her, nonstop.
She simply wasn't cut out for it. As the car drove off, she said so to Tazeen, whose lips spread in an amused smile. "No, I suppose you're not. Nobody is. It's not something wrong with you. You'll learn to deal with it, when you have to, and how to avoid it when you can."
Rachel laid her head back and thought about it. She was right, Rachel realized. This was her life now, all the glitz and glamour coming at the price of being constantly subjected to the public eye. How did people deal with this?
She laid her head back and tried not to think for a little while. When she woke, it was in her hotel bed. She was oddly comforted by the care they had taken with her, letting her sleep on the way up. Then the world exploded once again into movement, when a knock at the door turned into another long trip to have clothing measured and fitted and made for her. A week was not a long time to plan a wedding, she knew, but it hadn't occurred to her how quickly time would pass.
What came next was a whirlwind of bright lights and speaking in Arabic too quickly for her to even try to follow. Rachel was guided from place to place by Tazeen who exchanged nothing more than sympathetic glances when the camera lights weren't flashing in directly at them. Both of them knew that this was too fast, too much. But they both knew that it was what Rachel had signed up for, and what was needed if everything were to go to plan.
By the time it was all done, Rachel didn't care about the explanation anymore. She just wanted to sleep, to be out of the public eye for a few minutes. She had thought, earlier that day, that the public eye would fit her well. That she'd be able to handle it, when she brought all of it down on herself. She knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had been wrong. There was no way she was ever going to be able to cope with this attention on her, nonstop.
She simply wasn't cut out for it. As the car drove off, she said so to Tazeen, whose lips spread in an amused smile. "No, I suppose you're not. Nobody is. It's not something wrong with you. You'll learn to deal with it, when you have to, and how to avoid it when you can."
Rachel laid her head back and thought about it. She was right, Rachel realized. This was her life now, all the glitz and glamour coming at the price of being constantly subjected to the public eye. How did people deal with this?
She laid her head back and tried not to think for a little while. When she woke, it was in her hotel bed. She was oddly comforted by the care they had taken with her, letting her sleep on the way up. Then the world exploded once again into movement, when a knock at the door turned into another long trip to have clothing measured and fitted and made for her. A week was not a long time to plan a wedding, she knew, but it hadn't occurred to her how quickly time would pass.
The days went quickly, like that. Rachel had no way of knowing how much was occurring behind the scenes, or even if anything was. Perhaps she was doing this alone, and they wouldn't rescue her sister until the wedding was complete. What upset her more, though, was knowing that she wasn't staying up at night worrying about it, panicking nonstop about her sister's health and well-being.
Everything was going so quickly that s
he didn't have time to think about anything further than an hour or two away, and further away than the end of the hall. Other people were there to think for her.
She didn't speak the language more than enough to say the very basics, so the days she spent preparing for the wedding were a surreal race of people speaking for her, and never understanding a thing they said. She laughed when they laughed, smiled when they smiled, and otherwise tried to stay out of the way.
Then, at last, the day of the wedding came, and for the first time since the very first day, she saw him again. The man she was going to marry. She had almost forgotten what he looked like, after having only seen him twice. He'd made an impression, but the last four days had felt like she'd done as much as in the four weeks before. She was completely exhausted, and the truth was that she wasn't sure what she was going to do when she saw him.
He came into the room, which Rachel gathered was a faux-pas from the reactions of the ladies around her. His insistence quieted them, and then he took her aside into the corner. Not far enough for her to really be separate, she thought, but then again they could at least speak privately. He spoke in a hushed voice, the same accent that she'd noticed before. It was almost like speaking to a native speaker, and she nearly swooned at that thought.
"I have a gift for you, my dear."
"What? A gift?" Rachel blinked.
"I have had... quite a long couple of days."
Rachel laughed. "Yes, it has been a blur. I don't know if I can even remember my own name, after all the madness that I've been dealing with."
"It's concerning the wedding. I have something for you."
Something in his face, in his voice, worried her. He had always seemed so in-control, so powerful and capable and prepared. Now he seemed... sad. Tired. "Is something wrong?"
"Not anymore," he said softly. He turned towards the door, open an inch or so, and shouted something. The door opened.
"Rachel?" Her sister looked haggard. They must not have been feeding her particularly well, or she hadn't been eating the food they'd given her. She looked like a mess. But it was her, and she was alive.
Rachel's eyes went wide, and she couldn't figure out where to look. Her sister stood in the doorway, looking even more tired than she felt. Yet, her future husband, the man she would marry in only an hour or two, stood beside her. He had a strange look on his face, as if he expected... something.
"There were... complications, but I've done what I promised. Your sister is safe." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I understand if you don't want to go through with the wedding. I should never have asked you to do this."
Rachel blinked and looked up at him. Caitlyn said what she was thinking.
"What?" She walked into the room, looking confused and tired and more than a little bit angry. "Rachel, what's going on here?"
Rachel turned toward her, dressed all in white, and pulled her into a tight embrace. She didn't know where to start. So for a long moment, she held her sister and tried to find the words. "You were kidnapped, Cait."
Her sister said nothing, just watched and waited for more explanation.
"Nobody back in the states would help you. They all said it was too complicated of a situation, that htye couldn't get involved. It would be an international incident, or something like that. So I just came by myself to see if, you know... I could do something."
She could feel her cheeks getting hot. The whole thing had been such an ordeal, she realized now.
The past few days had been going by so quickly that she hadn't had time, really, to feel anything about it. Everything had been another step in a long path of things that must be done to achieve what she wanted. She needed to have her sister back in the states, safe and sound. So she had done what had to be done.
Rachel looked up at Nazir, looked at his broad, pretty face, and felt something she hadn't expected. Gratitude, certainly, but something more. She leaned her head into his chest and started to cry softly.
He moved his head, looking around the room, trying desperately to find someone to tell him what he was supposed to do next. But none of the eyes who met his had any answers.
Rachel wanted to stop crying. Wanted to tell him that she would marry him, if he would still have her, but she couldn't. She shut her eyes tight and sobbed gently into his chest. Gently, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, until he held her against him, letting her cry. She was so embarrassed, in front of all these people she was crying like a little girl, but she couldn't stop.
"It's alright now," her sister's voice cooed beside her ear. "I'm fine, everything's fine. You did it. You hear that? You did it."
"I know." Her voice came out louder than she expected, surprising even herself. She didn't know the words to say what came next, to say what she was thinking and feeling in front of everyone she had known for the past week, in front of her sister. It was all too humiliating. She forced the words out anyways. "I just. I want to. I want to get married!"
She leaned away from Nazir into the wall, crouching down, and put her hands over her face so nobody would see. She cried for a long time, and when she opened her eyes, finally, all the tears spent, she opened her eyes and looked around.
Tazeen stood a few feet away, a glass of water in hand. Rachel's husband-to-be was nowhere to be seen. She took the water when Tazeen offered it, and drank in long gulps, occasionally letting out a loud HIC from sobs that still racked her body.
"Is it over?" She started to feel the tears coming again as she spoke. "Did he not want me?"
Tazeen reached a hand down and gently pulled Rachel to her feet. "He had a wedding to prepare for. And so do you."
Rachel bit her lip and tried to fight the feeling that washed over her. She hadn't known Nazir for more than a few minutes' conversation, but this had been her entire life, her whole world, for the past week. In between the mad rush of everything that needed to be done, she'd been plied with promises of a happy life, a life with her husband, with her children. A life of comfort and family and happiness.
Having it taken away from her had been nearly as painful an experience as Rachel could imagine. Having it given back was too much. She broke into another short round of sobs, a smile worming its way across her face even as she tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her as the Arabic women moved around her, trying to calm her down and to finish her makeup at the same time.
Where their voices, the sound of their speaking in a completely foreign tongue had been terrifying before, it now took on a soothing note, like she was back at home already. She wiped her tears away with a finger, took a deep breath, and drank deeply from the cup.
"Thank you all so much," she said softly, unsure who could understand, but hoping Tazeen would carry her message along.
"Of course, Miss Rachel. It's our job."
"I know it's your job, and all, but I just." Rachel took a deep breath and tried not to cry. "It means a lot to me."
Rachel looked out of the corner of her eye to find Caitlyn being given a similar treatment. She hadn't cried quite so much as Rachel had, but now she was being nearly attacked with fine clothes and makeup, the attendants in a hurry to make up for lost time with her. She bore it all with a bored expression, like someone who was used to all of this.
And, Rachel realized, she was used to it. For her, having makeup done and being costumed was her everyday life. But for Rachel, it was all new, all a strange and wonderful experience. She laid her head back just a bit and let the ladies work. She knew, already, that she could trust them to make her as beautiful as she could be.
She was guided by a retinue of women through the back halls, into a lavish-looking room.
The wedding was a blur; everything moved too fast for her to understand well. She repeated after an older man in religious-looking clothes, what she recognized as the Basmala. It didn't seem like the right time to mention that she wasn't a Muslim; perhaps there would be time to deal with that little issue later, or perhaps she was going to have
to ignore it the rest of her life.
Then everyone spoke in Arabic, smiling. Then, under the veil they shared on their heads, Nazir turned to her and pulled her in for a kiss.
She wasn't sure what she had expected. He'd been drawn into this entire misadventure, just like she had been. She thought that he wasn't interested in her; why should he be? She'd barely spoken a dozen words to him. The entire time that they'd been engaged, she'd been certain that he was just pitying her. The kiss he planted on her lips wasn't the kiss of a man who pitied her. It was the kiss, she realized, that a husband gave his wife, at their wedding. She melted into him, the feel of his lips on hers.
Rachel could see Caitlyn waiting for her, off to the side, and for a moment she wanted to go to her. But, as she kissed her new husband, she realized that her sister could wait. She'd been working so hard to get her sister back, and sacrificed her plans. Her plans had changed, adapted to the new circumstances--but her sister, she thought wryly, could wait. She had a wedding night to go to.
They were all, Rachel and her husband and her sister, bundled into cars and taken to a large banquet hall, where they ate absurdly fine foods. She'd never tasted such rich meat, or such delicious spices, but she couldn't afford the time to enjoy them. Her mind was on the evening to come, the time she was finally going to spend alone without anything to look forward to--time with her husband.
She'd been wanting to experience this for her entire life. She hadn't held back on some moral principle; it hadn't come up. Now, though, she was glad that she had waited. It seemed so much better to be experiencing the whole world of sexuality with her husband, this beautiful, handsome, perfect man.
She looked at him and found him watching her with a peculiar expression. When their eyes met, he smiled, just a little bit. Like, she thought, he hadn't realized he had done it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. It made her heart flutter in her chest, and made her sorry that every woman didn't get to experience a man like her Nazir looking at them like that.
A Billionaire's Heart (Erotic Romance Bundle) Page 7