The Sheikh’s Stubborn Bride by Leslie North

14

Kadir sat in the palace’s home theater that afternoon, hoping to ease some of the tension bearing down on him like a massive sand dune in the desert. As ever, his wife was topmost in his mind. He knew she’d gone to see Naziha this morning, and he’d been distracted ever since she’d left the palace.

It was more than just the fight they’d had, though that weighed heavily enough on its own. He wasn’t usually a man who spent time licking his wounds after battle, but damn if he didn’t find himself in need of comfort. So, here he sat in the darkened theater, with the latest action film from America playing on the screen before him, and all he could picture was Stella’s face the night they’d argued at the opera.

He slammed his fist against the soft leather armrest to try to dissipate the tension roiling inside of him. Reliving that night and his failures as a husband and a future leader wouldn’t help matters. It would only make him more tired and frustrated than he already was. He’d grown used to sleeping with Stella by his side, having her warm curves pressed to him at night and waking to her pretty face each morning. The fact that she’d chosen to come to bed after he’d gone to sleep the past few nights and was gone before he’d awakened did little to ease his guilt or his fears that perhaps the problems between them were too insurmountable to conquer.

Dammit. The actors onscreen chasing each other in expensive cars, guns blazing, was not what he wanted to see. Using the remote, he stopped the film and brought up the list of available titles. He wanted something to give him hope, to wrap around himself like a warm, comforting blanket, to soothe his tired soul, if only for a little while.

Normally when he was in this kind of mood, he’d go for a classic romance film. That tradition had started years ago when Kadir had been a small boy. He and his mother would watch them together, and he always felt happier after a showing. But today, that would not do. Today he wanted nothing that smacked of the past. He was sick of the old world and the old traditions. Sick of the old city and everything it represented. Most of all, he was sick of Stella’s obsession with those things.

So, he settled on a newer rom-com, after making sure his mother was not in it. He sat back with his popcorn and soda and was soon surprised to find the movie was quite good. A café scene reminded him of the time he’d spent in New York last year—lots of people around, lots of traffic, lots of…

Kadir hit pause and frowned. Rewound the film, then played it again. A second time, then a third to be sure. No. That could not be. She would’ve told him, surely. But yes. There she was. Sitting behind the main actors, at a table tucked into the corner of the café, sipping a coffee and staring at a newspaper in front of her.

His Stella.

He zoomed ahead to the credits and scrolled through the cast list. No mention of Stella. Next, he pulled out his phone and googled her. No mention of her with the film and no listing of her on the movie database sites. Yet she’d clearly been there.

Unable and uninterested in watching the film further, he set aside his half-finished snacks and strode out of the theater and toward his office, trying to work out this new piece of the puzzle his wife presented in his head.

Did Stella want to be an actress? It was possible, he supposed. Many people did. His mother had, enough to leave her family behind to pursue that goal. To turn her back on royal life and her country and move halfway around the world, without another word to her husband or children.

His chest squeezed with hurt and a horrible realization. If Stella wanted to be an actress then…

He walked into his office and shut the door behind him, shaking off those irrational thoughts. No. She had a successful business and career as a game designer. She wouldn’t give all that up to be in films. That was nonsense. He was overreacting because of his own past hurts because of his mother.

Stella is not the same. Stella is different.

He continued repeating that to himself as he slumped in his seat and closed his eyes.

So why didn’t she tell me about being a movie?

There had to be a reason. And it was entirely possible that reason had been staring him in the face all along. Stella didn’t tell him because she didn’t want him to know. Stella was keeping secrets. He rubbed a hand over his face, struggling to come to grips with his worst fear, the one thing he’d sworn to avoid his whole life, becoming real. His mother had kept secrets, too. But part of him still refused to believe it. Stella had seemed so happy, so honest and open, so genuinely interested in his life and his family and beginning a new chapter here with him in Al-Fatha, as his life partner and his bride.

But then his mother had seemed happy too, in the beginning. He remembered her smiling and laughing, telling young Kadir how much she loved him—only to leave him behind. She’d chosen the screen over him and never looked back.

Is Stella planning to leave me behind as well, once her new game takes off?

Much as he hated to think he’d been duped, there was still too much he didn’t know about his wife. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe they had rushed into marriage too quickly. The same as his parents had done before them. One day his mother, Aziza, had been happy, the next she was gone.

Kadir stared at the ceiling, the past few weeks playing across his mind in slow motion. The good times, the bad. The conversations they’d had, the ones they needed to have. He’d wanted a partner, someone who would support his plans for his country, but she’d never been that—she was too stubborn, too strong-willed to fall in line.

And he had to concede now that she never would. That she was going to leave him. After their fight at the opera, she could very well be planning her return to the US right that second. And if she did go, where would that leave him?

He was still stewing over that idea when he pulled out his phone to check his emails. A text flashed onscreen from Stella, as if summoned by his thoughts. Except it had been sent that morning.

Meet me for dinner tonight. 8 p.m. Planetarium.

Kadir stared at it for a few moments without sending a response. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to say, given the bombshell he’d just uncovered about her. He needed more time to think this through, to figure out the best way to confront her about what he’d found in the film and how to proceed going forward. Because it wasn’t just himself and their marriage he needed to think about here, though that was bad enough. No. He also had to think about his country and his people.

Stella was their soon-to-be queen. They’d already lost one queen when his mother had left. Could Al-Fatha survive losing another? Could he survive?

He’d damned well survived being abandoned by his mother, and he’d make it through this as well. With or without his bride. They’d only been together a few weeks. He shouldn’t be that attached to her anyway. He wasn’t attached to her. Attracted to her, yes. Amused by her, usually. Aroused by her, definitely. But that was all. He didn’t love her, because that would be ridiculous.

The prick of pain in his chest suggested otherwise, but he ignored it and stood.

After a deep breath, Kadir clicked off his phone and headed for the door, typing out his curt response on the way.

Fine. We need to talk.

As he stormed back toward their suite, he churned through outcomes in his head. They would meet, and she would have a plausible explanation for being in the film and that would close the topic. They would meet, and she would tell him the truth about wanting to be an actress back then, but she’d changed her mind now. Then they could talk about her lack of support for his development plans, and she would acquiesce. Or, worst-case scenario, she would tell him she was leaving him, and their marriage was over.

Whatever happened, tonight they would have it out, once and for all.