The Sheikh’s Stubborn Bride by Leslie North

6

The next day, Stella spent the entire morning and most of the afternoon working on her game, making slight tweaks based on Kadir’s experience the day before and adding more details to the streetscapes and bazaar based on her own experiences there.

Finally, around four p.m., she switched from coding to doing a bit of research, her brain and her eyes needing a break. After their date the previous evening and the heated interlude in the limo afterward, she’d been hoping maybe Kadir would follow her into her bedroom or invite her into his, but no. He’d walked her upstairs and given her a chaste kiss in their living room then retreated to his private area as if his very fine ass was on fire.

It was maddening. Infuriating. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he wasn’t attracted to her, but no. That wasn’t true. First, he’d told her he was. Second, he’d been as into that kiss in the limo as she was. You could fake a lot of things, but not that kind of fire. So, what was the problem?

She pulled out his dossier again, hoping to find a clue. But after an hour of reading, she felt no closer to an answer than she’d been before. It did say that his mother had left when he’d been eight, so there was that. Probably some abandonment issues, which was understandable, but did that translate into him pulling back from her now? Maybe. Someday she’d ask him about it, but for now, she wanted to give Kadir a bit of a surprise of her own, show him a little more of herself through her work.

He’d taken her to his modern planetarium and said her idea of combining the old and the new intrigued him, so she intended to show him exactly how that might occur in his own capital city. She’d spent the afternoon researching Jazid and specifically new businesses that had popped up in the old city over the last few years, including a TV studio that was producing several popular shows across the Middle East. It had been built inside one of the beautiful ancient buildings in the old town, a perfect example of the blending of old and new she’d been talking about the night before and just the thing to convince her doubtful husband that such things were possible. And if they got to taste some incredible food at the same time, even better. That’s when her idea had really taken shape. She knew from their conversations and the meal they’d shared at the restaurant that Kadir was something of a foodie. And there was a taping of a local cooking show at the studio that night.

From what she could see, it was sort of like Iron Chef in the US. Tickets were required, so she requested two and arranged to have them sent to the palace, then closed her laptop. With the VIP passes she’d gotten for them, they’d get to sit right in front of the chefs and try the food, as well. Sounded like a good time all around to her.

She got ready and sat on the couch to wait for her husband to return. Prompt as always, Kadir arrived at six on the dot, looking a bit tired from his day. Perhaps a night out was just what he needed.

“How was your day?” Stella asked, looking up as he walked into the shared sitting area. He’d showered recently—in the palace gym he’d showed her the day before, judging by his casual T-shirt and loose pants. His hair was damp, and she took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and soap and warm, clean man, doing her best not to pull him into a hug, ignoring the tingling in her core. They were married now. They’d get together eventually.

But I want him now.

“Long,” Kadir said, jarring her out of her erotic thoughts about what would’ve happened in the back of the limo if he hadn’t stopped them. It took her a minute to realize he was talking about his day and not part of his anatomy. She forced a smile and gulped, nodding. “And yours?” he asked, seemingly unaware of the lust sizzling through her.

“Busy.” She croaked the word out, then walked over to the windows, putting some much-needed space between herself and the husband she wanted to tackle to the floor and lick all over. She stared out the window at the gardens below and did her best to ignore his reflection, all brooding and alpha and hot as hell and… “Uh, I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” he said, walking over to her. “I hope it’s a good one.”

“It is, I think.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “But I’m not telling you where we’re going until we get there. Turnabout’s fair play, right?”

He gave her a look and harumphed then sat down in the chair across from her. “Well, as long as there aren’t any rats or stolen fruit involved, I suppose I’m game.”

“Good.” She grinned, some of the tension easing between her shoulder blades. “And no rats. I promise.”

“Then I’m all yours, habibi,” he said.

She swallowed hard, her smile faltering slightly as her arousal spiked again before she tamped it down. Tonight was about easing his stress and getting to know each other better and having fun. And if she could weakn his resolve a bit and also get him into her bed, all the better.

Two hours later, they were sitting in the front row of the TV studio while cameramen and producers swirled around them, murmuring directions and hoisting cue cards for the chefs and the host to read. It was a packed house, and the competing cooks on stage were talking away in Arabic as they worked, making the audience laugh at their jokes and cooking antics. Kadir acted as translator for Stella, whispering in her ear, which was both a blessing and curse. She liked knowing what was being said, but his warm breath and deep voice had her in a constant state of buzzing, heated readiness.

She had picked up quite a bit of Arabic in her time here in Al-Fatha, but she wasn’t about to tell her husband that. Not yet anyway. She liked his attention too much.

A pretty woman—one of the production assistants—brought over two small plates of the dish the first chef had just prepared and set them on the counter in front of them, then bowed. Stella bowed back, then picked up her fork to try a bite of the yummy-looking lamb dish, which the chef had called a fusion of Indian and Arabic cooking.

Before she could take a bite, though, Kadir held out a forkful of food from his plate for her to try. “This is so amazing, habibi. Try some of mine.”

All righty, then. She did, and he was right. It was amazing. Tender, boneless marinated lamb and basmati rice cooked to perfection in a fusion of signature spices. So, so good. She ate her bite, then fed Kadir one from her own plate. Before long, it became a thing. They continued doing it throughout the evening and scored a shot on the TV show, with the second chef, a woman, telling the audience how cute young love was and the audience applauding for their prince and his new bride.

Finally, it was time for dessert, and Stella and Kadir found themselves pulled on stage to judge the final. Kadir was understandably a celebrity in his country and reacted accordingly, with grace and practiced ease. Stella wasn’t used to the spotlight and stupidly hadn’t considered this might happen when they went out in public together. She smiled and tried to act natural on camera but felt stiff and awkward. Thankfully, Kadir was there, ever by her side, holding her hand, comforting her without words, just with his presence. She did her best to concentrate on him and his warm strength and the delicious food instead.

The first chef made a more traditional Arabic dessert called kunafa. It was basically hot cheese melted between layers of phyllo dough and covered in syrup. Savory and sweet at the same time. Stella and Kadir kept up their feeding of each other, much to the delight of the people watching, who clapped and whistled for them as they chewed and swallowed their food and tried not to choke from laughter.

The second chef made a more modern foam and nectar concoction of passion fruit, vanilla, and coconut. Stella couldn’t get enough of either of them.

In the end, Kadir chose the winner though and, of course, he went with the more modern foam dessert. She smiled and agreed, since they were both delicious, though she probably would have picked the more traditional kunafa. It didn’t matter. Certainly not enough to fight about, since he’d seemed to thoroughly enjoy their night here in the older part of town.

By the time they left the studio, Stella felt like she was walking on air. They strolled hand in hand for a few blocks, stopping first at a used book seller’s stall. Stella was captivated by all the old art books and bought several. They would be fabulous resources for her game designs. She found a couple of old comic books to add to her collection, as well.

“Your inner geek is showing, habibi,” Kadir said, grinning.

“Damn right,” she shot back, winking. “I’m one hundred percent nerd and proud to show it.”

Arm in arm, they strolled farther down the street, stopping next at a furniture store. Kadir was immediately drawn to the sleek, modern leather chair on display near the front window, while Stella fell in love with an antique table in the back corner.

Finally, they went into the shop of a local clothing designer, and lo and behold, they both went right to the same handmade scarf on the rack.

“Wow, this is lovely,” Stella said, stroking the intricate weaving reverently.

Kadir called over the clerk and bought it on the spot, removing it from the hanger and draping it around Stella’s neck before taking her hand. “No more lovely than the woman wearing it.”

By the time they made it back outside, Stella was buzzing with restless energy, and if the hungry look her husband gave her was any indication, he felt the same. So it was no surprise when Kadir pulled her into the relative privacy of a quiet alley to kiss her. Hot and hungry and every bit as sexually charged as the night before in the limo, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to get him home. Kadir seemed to agree, rushing her down the street to their waiting car.

They piled into the back, both amped up on energy from the show taping and their kiss. He put his arm around Stella’s shoulders and pulled her into his side as the driver slowly steered them out of the narrow streets of the older section of town and back toward the newer, wider highway.

Kadir relaxed back into the seat and pointed out the window. “Imagine a new Jazid, Stella. Full of graceful towers and glass and roof gardens. Like they have in Singapore. That TV studio we were in could be expanded to fill several floors. The cooking show could be syndicated, so not just audiences in Al-Fatha could see it, but people around the world. We could even have international contestants. Perhaps we could interest one of the foreign networks in buying the station. That would greatly expand their budget. And once the TV station took off, that could lead to investments from some of the world’s major tech companies, and the music industry. Movie studios, even. We could create a section in downtown Jazid for it. Innovation Square.”

Stella straightened from where she’d been resting her head on his shoulder and frowned. “But I thought seeing how that studio fit so well into the ancient architecture might convince you how well the old and new could be merged.”

He blinked at her. “Perhaps. And I did see that. But I also saw how much improvements cost in just the basic utilities to make that old building habitable. They did an admirable job, but imagine how much more could’ve been done by starting from scratch. The old architecture was lovely, but it could have been recreated in newer, tougher, more modern materials that would last for generations to come.”

“Seriously?” She sighed and scooted a little away from him. “Why exactly are you so determined to get rid of the past, Kadir?” When he didn’t answer right away, she continued. If they were going to disagree anyway, might as well get it all out there. “And why exactly do you seem determined to keep distance between us?”

“I’m not,” he said, staring out the window beside him. “I’m just being practical. Sometimes being a leader means making the difficult choices.”

Annoyed, she scoffed. “Sorry,I don’t buy it.”

“What do you mean?” He glanced over at her, scowling now. “There is nothing to buy. It’s the truth. What you don’t seem to realize, Stella, is that I have more than just the preservation of old buildings to think about when it comes to the old town. I have the economy of the entire country, the concerns of people in all the different regions, not to mention our global partners. All of these things must play equally in my decisions.”

“I see.” She exhaled slowly and crossed her arms, staring out the window beside her at the blurry scenery whizzing past them. “And what about the other thing? You can’t tell me that you don’t know I want you.”

He cleared his throat, and she could feel the weight of his stare on her. “I just don’t think we should rush into anything, that’s all.”

“Really?” She gave him a disgruntled look, feeling far more inclined to punching than passion at the moment. She might be naïve sometimes, but Stella knew BS when she heard it. “Yeah, no. First off, the way you kissed me back there in the bazaar tells me I’m not the only one lusting here, and you told me you find me attractive. What’s the real reason you keep pushing me away, Kadir? Unless you were just lying about everything.”

“I was not lying,” he said, his forceful words bouncing off the interior of the vehicle. “I do not lie, Stella. About anything. And I’m sorry if we had crossed signals about your reasons for taking me to the TV show tonight. I kissed you at the bazaar because I wanted to. I do want you, I just…” He took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

“So? What else is new?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then, “I don’t trust people easily, Stella.”

“I’m your wife,” she countered. “If you can’t trust me, then who can you trust?”

“You’re a wife I barely know.”

His words made her gasp in shock and he cursed under his breath.

She hadn’t meant to do that, but dammit, his words hurt. She was well aware that they’d been strangers just a week ago, but since the wedding, her desire for him had grown from a single candle flame into a furnace-glow of need. She’d thought he felt the same, but apparently not.

She gritted her teeth against the ache in her heart. Dammit. She should’ve known better. He’d been polite but distant that first day at the wedding; when people showed you who they were, you should believe them. People didn’t change. They were who they were, and Kadir was distant and aloof.

The sooner she got used to it and stopped expecting miracles, the better off she’d be.

“I see,” she said, blinking back the sting of unwanted tears. She would not cry over this.

She wouldn’t.

“Do you?” Kadir murmured, leaning into the corner opposite her, about as far away at the moment as east was from west. He shook his head, his profile highlighted every so often by the passing streetlamps, and his voice as disheartened as she felt. “Because right now, I don’t think you see anything at all.”