The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(3)

At my mention of the possibility of Idris getting the position instead of me, I could almost hear my father fervently shaking his head.

“You can’t let that happen.”

“I know I can’t let that happen. I just don’t know why I was informed of this rule at the very last minute, nor how in the world I’m supposed to find a virgin fiancée in less than two weeks.”

Silence, then, “Rashid, do you really feel that you were informed at the last minute?”

At my father’s quiet, simple question, my body sagged. Sure, he and my mother had tried to foist a whole bunch of boring, timid girls on me over the past few years, but I’d only assumed that they had been worried about my prolific dating spree, and had wanted to reign me in.

“It’s fine, Father. I’ll figure this out.”

“You know what is at stake, my son. Not just for you and me, but for our whole family. For the kingdom.”

I nodded grimly and closed my eyes. Father didn’t need to say it, what letting Zayed-Kharan fall into the hands of Idris and his family, the Antars, would mean. Their corrupted ruling had nearly caused the whole country to fall into ruin. It had been my family—my father, in fact—who had stopped them. If once again they were allowed to do what they wanted, their first order of business would be to banish my family, and who would save Zayed-Kharan then?

“I know, Father. I know how to handle this,” I said finally.

I hung up, since I didn’t know what to say next, and I didn’t want him to figure out just how little I believed my own words.

In any case, it didn’t matter. The odds were of no consequence, and I had to find a suitable wife. For my ailing father, for my family’s honor, for my country. There was no choice.

A few minutes after our call, I got a text from my father.



I forgot to ask you. Would you be able to fill in for me at a trade meeting in New York City tomorrow? I know it’s last minute, but I’ve had another fall.



As soon as I finished reading his message, I replied, tapping away quickly on my phone’s keyboard.



Of course. Email me the details so I can prepare on the flight.



As I made my way to my room to pack, I realized that this would complicate things even further. The United States, while famous for many things, wasn’t particularly well-known for its large supply of virgins just waiting to be proposed to.

I had just cut my time to find a suitable bride down even further, although I didn’t have much of a choice. Father was sick, and him pushing himself too much could make him even worse.

So, when my phone beeped, notifying me that the jet would be ready for takeoff within the hour, I immediately set about packing. In a frenzied sort of autopilot mode, I went through the motions. In the bag they went: suits, socks, underwear, laptop, toiletries. As I walked out the door, I was almost certain I’d forgotten something, but I didn’t have time to look back.

I got to the airport without a hitch, and everything seemed to be going well until my phone refused to turn on after going through security. No amount of button mashing, exasperated taps or shakes would induce it to turn on. Once I boarded the jet and settled into my seat, there was nothing to do but sleep off just how badly the day had gone.





Chapter Four





Lacie




Could the day go any slower?

So far, I’d had a grand total of one customer, who I couldn’t even talk to because I didn’t speak their language. Every minute seemed to drag on more than the last. And so, for hours, it was just me, the flickering florescent lights, and the stomach twist-inducing replay in my mind of what had happened last night.

“Yep, here you have it, ladies. My maid of honor—and New York city’s oldest virgin.” Nadia’s gorgeous face had broken into a mischievous grin, her cackle the loudest of all, the rest of the pretty pack of bridesmaid hyenas howling along with laughter.

The rest of the night, even when we had swapped one drinking game for another, the jokes had kept recurring about the virgin in the room, with Nadia joking about keeping things PG-13 for me, the 25-year-old virgin. At least I’d kept some dignity and had only let the tears come when I’d been safely in my bed at home.

I took a drink of water, holding back fresh tears. Replaying the horrible scene was about the worst idea possible, but I couldn’t help it. Like a moth drawn to a blazing light, again and again my mind returned to the horrible scene. I shouldn’t have been so bothered about it, but I was upset nonetheless.

The front door jangled and I looked up, eager for a distraction from my spiraling thoughts. Another foreigner had entered my shop, but this one was a handsome Middle Eastern man who was smiling at me. As soon as he reached the front desk, he started talking.

“Hello. It seems my phone has decided to pass onto the next realm, leaving me phoneless for an important meeting later today.”

His dark, thick-lashed eyes were already scanning the wall of phones behind me, while I put on my best enthusiastic voice.

“Well, that is a problem. How about I show you a few models and you can choose one that you like best?”

His smile spread to his eyes, and it was show-stoppingly gorgeous, revealing a small dimple in his chin. “Sounds like a plan.”

The man impatiently rejected the cheapest models. After seeing my face fall after a particularly brusque “No”, he smiled that smile again.