The Sheikh’s Stubborn Bride by Leslie North

2

Stella Green stood at the end of the long marble entrance hall of the royal palace of Al-Fatha and mentally pinched herself for the umpteenth time, just to make sure it was all real. Her surroundings were sumptuous beyond belief, from the massive baskets of white flowers perfuming the air to the soaring vaulted ceiling painted bright blue and dotted with gold stars. Even the floor was tiled with an intricate mosaic maze that looked worthy of a museum. She’d never imagined she’d be the main attraction at the royal palace when she’d arrived in Al-Fatha for work eighteen months ago.

She was a game designer, and a damned good one at that. She’d won all sorts of awards and critical acclaim for her beautiful designs and educational, interactive scenarios. She loved what she did and always tried to push the boundaries, including new, brilliant, never-before-seen content whenever possible. That was what had brought her to Al-Fatha in the first place.

This tiny kingdom on the Arabian Peninsula had been the stuff of legends for years, only opening its borders to the Western world in the last thirty years, thanks to the current king. And as soon as the opportunity arose, Stella had been on a plane here, eager to see all of its natural wonders and breathtaking cultural treasures so she could include them in her created worlds. So far, she hadn’t been disappointed. From the stunning desert dunes to the opulent palaces and open-air bazaars teaming with local artisans selling traditional Al-Fatha crafts, street food, and spices, it was like walking right into a fantasy. Stella had fallen in love with the place at first sight, which was probably why she’d stayed way longer than her intended two months. But it didn’t really matter, since she didn’t have any social life outside of work, especially on the romance front. Nope. At twenty-six, she was single as single could be, footloose and fancy free. Or, at least, she had been.

Then she’d met Naziha Oman in a coffee shop in Jazid, the capital city, and they’d hit it off immediately. Two women running their own businesses, Stella with her games and Naziha, her matchmaking service inherited from her aunt.

Of course, Stella had been intrigued from the start. She’d tried online dating services and apps in America before, but never anything like what Naziha did. Her matchmaking service was so comprehensive, full of questionnaires about everything from personality to professional interests and compatibility. She’d asked Naziha millions of questions, mainly about the arranged marriage part of the deal. That wasn’t done often in America, but she’d since learned they were commonplace in Al-Fatha.

In fact, according to Naziha, her family had been providing their services for generations and had found partners for some of the most important people in the Middle East, including sheikhs, business magnates, and tech billionaires. Even Naziha’s own brothers were now clients, she’d said.

When Naziha had offered to enroll Stella in her program, free of charge, she’d balked at first. Sure, her love life wasn’t exactly great at the moment. More like nonexistent. And yes, she had a tendency to pick the wrong men at the wrong time for all the wrong reasons. But she wasn’t desperate enough to resort to a matchmaker.

They’d let the matter drop. But then Naziha had continued to bring it up periodically over the next month or so, each time making it sound a little less intimidating and a little more like it might be the answer to Stella’s prayers. She hadn’t dated at all since she’d been in Al-Fatha, having been too busy with work and not really knowing many people to mix and mingle with. Plus, she wasn’t getting any younger, and she did want to have kids one day. Not to mention her own radar when it came to picking men was faulty at best. Maybe having someone else take the guesswork out of it, have them pre-screen men for her, was a good idea. Or, as Naziha had said, why not let someone else who specialized in finding appropriate spouses have a shot at it?

So, she’d filled out the paperwork and sat through all the interviews, then waited two weeks for Naziha to go through it all and find her the match of her dreams.

Turned out that man was Naziha’s own brother, Kadir.

Stella had been shocked, to say the least. She’d gawked at him several times at different events around Jazid, but they’d never met or talked to each other. Not to mention Stella had never imagined marrying royalty, let alone the man set to take over this very kingdom in a few months’ time. She’d expected Naziha to find her some nice, nerdy tech geek she could while away the hours with playing and talking video games, not a glamorous, gorgeous sheikh. Hell, Stella’s knees knocked each time she thought of the guy.

Then there was the fact she had no idea how to be a queen. She’d watched The Princess Diaries more than enough times to know how much training was involved just to even know what fork to use, let alone all that diplomacy and etiquette and stuff. And sure, she was ambitious and smart and extroverted when she needed to be, but good lord. When it came right down to it, Stella was just some gal from LA with a crappy track record when it came to men and a newfound love for all things Al-Fatha.

But Naziha had assured her that on paper, she was the perfect match for her brother. In fact, she’d said that Stella’s love for the traditions and culture of her country were the perfect balance to her older brother’s ideas to bring new technology and a new future to the country. Her brother needed balance, Naziha had said, and Stella would provide that in spades. Plus, she could advise her new husband on the tech side of things too, so yeah. Here she was, standing in her wedding dress, ready to walk down the aisle to marry a man she’d seen from afar but never even said boo too.

If someone had told her last year this would be happening, Stella would’ve said they were nuts.

Last month, coming from poised and professional Naziha, it had sounded perfectly reasonable.

Today, as the first strains of the wedding march boomed through the marble corridors of the palace she’d soon call home and she stared down the aisle at her soon-to-be husband, the doubt demons attacked full throttle. Her pulse pounded like a jackhammer in her ears, and nervous energy buzzed inside her chest like a live wire. She clutched the bouquet of white roses and trailing jasmine in her hands like a shield. The grand foyer, which was about the size of a small stadium from Stella’s perspective, was packed with people. Outside, an even bigger crowd had gathered, along with helicopters and paparazzi. She wished she’d had time to invite her mother over from California, but everything had happened so fast and…

Oh, god. What the hell am I doing?

She swallowed against the sandpaper coating the inside of her throat and reminded herself to breathe. Standing on the threshold of the red carpet runner leading up to the altar erected specifically for this ceremony, she spotted her groom at the opposite end of the aisle. He looked handsome and aloof, his expression unreadable as he stared back at her. She wondered if he thought she looked beautiful in her gown. Not that it mattered, but still. She’d picked it out knowing that the eyes of the world, and her gorgeous future husband, would be on her, so the gown mixed the modesty of her adopted country with some of the sparkle and sexiness of home. He’d insisted, through his assistants, on including touches from the West in the ceremony to make Stella feel more comfortable. She appreciated it but had never felt like turning and running more in her life.

No. She wasn’t a runner. Or a quitter. She’d committed to this, and she’d see it through, because that’s what she did. She hadn’t gotten her own tech business to world-class status without being strong-willed and outspoken. She could handle this. She would handle this. And sure, it would’ve been nice to be in love with the man she was marrying, but that could come in time. What mattered even more to her at this point in her life was stability, and you couldn’t get any more stable than a sheikh, right?

She gave a nervous little snort and blinked hard.

Calm down, girl. You got this.

It was the same mantra she repeated to herself before a big meeting for her gaming company. The same words she spoke when she had a new idea to pitch to the venture capitalists. The same steadfastness she summoned now to walk down the aisle and into a future she hadn’t planned but was facing nonetheless.

Rather than give the nervous fire threatening to burn out of control inside her any more fuel, she concentrated on her soon-to-be husband as she inched towards the aisle instead. He was taller than she remembered, but then she’d only seen him in passing, usually from across a room, or in press coverage. Based on the men around him, she guessed he stood at six-foot-five or maybe even six-foot-six. Well-built too, with broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, all highlighted by his traditional royal garb. Dark hair, dark eyes, same as Naziha. But where his sister was petite and pretty, this man had nothing soft about him. He was all alpha male and heart-stoppingly hot.

Whew. If she hadn’t had her hands full of flowers, she would’ve fanned herself.

As it was, she just took another breath, more for courage than anything, then took her first step and…

Whoops. Nearly tripped.

Not good, Stella. Not good at all.

Luckily, she caught herself before she face-planted on the scarlet runner stretching down the center of the walkway and continued on in the step, halt, step, halt, cadence she’d practiced the night before in her hotel room. One foot in front of the other, over and over until boom. She was there. At the altar. The music stopped, and her heart thumped as she turned slowly and stared up through her veil at the man she was going to marry, praying he wouldn’t be disappointed when he lifted her veil and saw her for the first time either. Prince Kadir Oman.

He stared at her a moment then smiled, and the world seemed to fall away and it was just them. She’d always figured that was a thing that happened in rom-com movies, but nope. It was happening to her now. The man officiating the ceremony was talking, his mouth moving, but all Stella could hear was her blood rushing and her mind whirling through the words she’d need to recite all too soon. The vows. She’d practiced those last night too, in her mirror. Except now she was distracted, mainly by Kadir. When he kept smiling at her like that, it was hard to think. He was movie-star gorgeous. Finally, he stopped smiling and bowed slightly to her before he took her hand. His skin was warm and soft against hers, and that’s when she felt it. A slight tremor through him.

He’s as nervous as I am.

She wasn’t sure how she knew. She just did. He covered it well, though, not betraying any of it through his outward demeanor as they turned slowly to face the officiant. The rest of it went by in a blur—the I do’s, the vows, the exchanging of rings. Stella managed to say the right things at the right times, and then it was over. Good thing she’d rehearsed.

Then it was time for their kiss.

Time seemed to slow as Kadir lifted her veil. Without the gauzy white material covering her face, it all became even more real. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers and pressing slightly. He paused before taking advantage, sweeping his tongue over hers, just a quick taste, then gone. It was enough to steal her breath for a second. Vaguely, she registered the taste of him—mint and tea. An odd mix of anticipation and astonishment flooded her system.

Kadir pulled back and whispered, “Nice to meet you, wife.”

“You too, husband,” Stella managed to squeak out past her constricted vocal cords.

They held hands and turned to face the cheering crowd, and Stella found herself grinning like an idiot, not exactly genuine, but not far from it. Perhaps it was just the excess adrenaline in her bloodstream talking, but she suddenly felt excited, exuberant, exhilarated.

Maybe this would be okay. The ceremony had been more emotional than she’d expected, and then there was that kiss. For the first time all day, she began to think that maybe this new adventure just might not be a mistake.