The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be - Page 23

Her makeup was still perfect, but it seemed a little much for the simple outfit. She carefully unpinned her hair until it was in a curly ponytail and washed a layer of makeup off. By the time she was done, she looked perfectly suited for a late afternoon lunch rather than the wedding she was meant to be at.

Another rush of guilt shot through her, but she pressed it down. Steph was allowed to enjoy her own life, and she had never before done anything she’d truly wanted to do. In this moment, what she wanted was to be with Mehdi, enjoying his company in a country she was still getting to know. Who better to get the details from than the ruling monarch himself?

As she finished cleaning herself up, there was a knock at the door. Steph walked over to answer and found a young woman there, who bowed.

“His Majesty has sent me to guide you in the right direction, miss,” she said, her voice slightly accented.

Steph nodded, smiling, before she looked down and realized she didn’t have proper shoes. The young woman took notice of the direction of her gaze and entered the room, opening a drawer at the bottom of the armoire and showing Steph the selection there. Steph picked out a delicate pair of flats and slid them on before following the young woman out of the room and down several corridors.

Mehdi hadn’t been wrong. The palace was showy in a way that didn’t suit his personality at all. Steph wondered what it would take to make some changes, though of course that was far beyond any decisions she could make. The woman opened a veranda door which led to a small, shaded courtyard. There, Mehdi was enjoying a cool drink as he sat at the table, and when he saw her he stood.

“That looks far more comfortable,” he said, his eyes taking her in.

Steph blushed again beneath his stare, but she smiled. “Thanks for giving me access to your collection. Everything was so beautiful. It was difficult to find something I liked most.”

“You have chosen admirably,” he said, gesturing for her to sit down, which she did, thanking the girl who had guided her there.

“Are you hungry?” Mehdi asked, and she nodded.

“I couldn’t stomach food all day, but now that things have relaxed a bit, I could eat a horse!”

“Well that is barbaric,” Mehdi said, appalled, and Steph laughed.

“It’s just an expression; don’t worry. Anyway, wasn’t it you telling me not to question the meat I was eating just the other day?”

Mehdi grinned. “That was because I knew it was regular old beef, but I wanted to see if you’d dare to try it.”

“Did you think I’d chicken out?”

“You? Never.” Mehdi laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “Do you like punch?” he asked.

Steph nodded. “As much as anyone, I suppose. Why?”

“You must try this. It’s made with fruit which is only grown here in El Farah. It doesn’t travel very well, which is why you’ve likely never tried it, but it is delicious.”

Steph reached for the ornate goblet in front of her and took a sip of the red punch. Her eyes widened at the taste. It was sweet, citrusy, and delicious. It was the perfect thing to calm her nerves after a couple of stressful days.

“This is outstanding!” she said, and Mehdi smiled, satisfied.

“We’ll also be having a lunch of all of El Farah’s traditional dishes, so I can introduce you to anything your mother might have missed in your education of your heritage.”

Steph grinned. “I can’t wait,” she said, taking another sip of punch. “So what do you do, as the sheikh? I’m surprised you have enough free time to kidnap unsuspecting women from their arranged marriages.”

Mehdi laughed, and Steph found herself leaning in closer, wanting to be near that energy.

“My position is ceremonial, mostly. I’m a monarch, but we have a parliament that seems quite content running the show.”

“Interesting. Do they let you in on any decisions at all?” she asked.

“Sometimes. If there is an issue I feel particularly strongly about I will make my opinion known.”

“And what is the political atmosphere like in El Farah? Is there one party that hates another?”

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