Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid: The Complete Series Page 16

  But there wasn’t enough time. “Catelyn,” he said in a voice meant to be heard by all of them. “This is my brother, Issam. Issam, this is my wife, Catelyn.”

  Issam, who was as handsome as Rami but broader, more defined, took Caitlin’s hand in his and kissed her knuckles, his eyes dancing. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, and she knew it had some kind of double meaning.

  “Well, I am.” Catelyn raised her chin, still smiling at him. “You’d better get used to it.”

  9

  Issam wouldn’t shut up about the conspiracy.

  “Now that you’re here,” he said from the opposite seat in the high-end SUV that whisked them through the streets toward the palace, “I have to know. Was it a conspiracy?”

  She looked at him carefully and reached for Rami’s hand, twining her fingers through his. “I think a conspiracy would have had to involve a lot of people,” she offered.

  “So you had a team,” insisted Issam. His eyes glinted with some combination of amusement and suspicion.

  “I have a team at my business. But as for the blog post—”

  “The blog post is most interesting,” Issam cut in. He’d started talking about it the moment they’d climbed into the SUV, and it seemed as if he’d never stopped. “There are so many rumors.”

  “Issam—” Rami warned.

  “It’s only speculation.” Issam spread his hands in front of him. “There are some in the royal household who think that maybe the post was written for a purpose.”

  “It was.” Caitlin fought to keep irritation out of her voice. Issam was pushy, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t a particularly nice man, but first impressions counted. She needed to make this year as easy for them as possible. That had been a simple decision to make after they’d emerged from the bedroom of the plane, neither of them speaking about what had happened there. The sex was strictly against the arrangement they’d made, but it was too good to pass up. A real conundrum. Catelyn wanted to think about it in peace, only Issam—

  “What purpose?”

  She glanced at Rami. “The purpose of getting my wedding-planning business some attention.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” replied Issam. “I’ve heard that it was a—” He made a show of considering the best word to use. “A lure. To get Rami to find you and marry you.”

  She scoffed. “That’s not what I thought would happen. Trust me.”

  Issam leaned back in his seat. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Are you quite finished?” Rami’s voice was sharp, and Issam cut a glance at his brother.

  “What? It’s important to the security of our family to—”

  “To harass my new wife with ridiculous questions? What a warm welcome, Issam. Our mother would be so proud to hear about this.”

  They were both grown men, but Issam frowned at the mention of their mother. “It’s professional curiosity.”

  “It’s asinine curiosity, and you’re making a fool of yourself.”

  Catelyn’s heart beat harder. This was not the awkward Rami she’d met at Lydia’s party. He was utterly calm and holding his own. Issam glanced back at her. “My apologies,” he said smoothly, “if I went too far.”

  “You did.” Rami squeezed Catelyn’s hand, and she turned to look into his eyes. “I won’t fault you if you don’t forgive him.”

  She let a smile curve one side of her lip. “Hold a grudge against your family? I would never.” Then, in full view of Issam, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss dangerously close to the corner of Rami’s lip.

  His brother cleared his throat, looking out the window.

  Rami shifted, wrapping his arm around Catelyn and pulling her close. With a little sigh, she curled into him and watched the scenery of the ancient city go by.

  It was dazzling—but not as much as their time in the bedroom. She wondered how long it would be until that happened again.

  “We chartered a jet,” said Zafir, the former ruler of Al-Dashalid and Rami’s father, entering the room with so much enthusiasm it was a little like being caught in a windstorm. “We were vacationing in Avignon, but we could not miss the arrival of Rami’s new wife.” He crossed the room, Rami’s mother Daya following him with a warm smile lighting up her face. He embraced Rami in a tight hug, then turned to Catelyn.

  Rami didn’t miss a beat. “Catelyn, my father Zafir, and my mother Daya.” He beamed for the next words out of his mouth. “This is my wife, Catelyn.”

  “We’re so pleased to meet you.” Daya embraced her, and Catelyn felt herself melt. Her own family had been volatile—her parents were off and on with each other until after Catelyn left for college, and only now did they seem to be settled into comfort. There was no such tension with Daya.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, too.” Catelyn swallowed a lump in her throat.

  The door to the sitting room opened again, and Rami’s older brother, Kyril, swept in, laughing. A little boy was running at his feet. She recognized them both from the royal website, as well as Hannah, Kyril’s American wife.

  “I’m sorry we’re late,” said Kyril. He was handsome, too—the three brothers were eye-catchers, all of them. But where Rami had finer features, Kyril’s were more…solid somehow. “Inan had other ideas.”

  The little boy ran straight for Zafir and leaped into his arms as Kyril and Hannah approached. Hannah hugged her. “It’s so nice to see you,” she whispered into her ear. “We’re going to be friends, I just know it.”

  Catelyn had a thousand questions for her but opted for basking in the warmth of this family. Sure, Issam hadn’t been the most welcoming, but the rest of them were already drawing her into their circle. What would it be like to leave all of them behind, a year from now? Her stomach turned at the thought, and it had been all of three minutes. Yet they couldn’t build a marriage based on a lie. She shoved the thoughts out of her mind.

  Last to breeze in was Adira, Rami’s sister and the youngest of the four children. She pushed to the center of the circle, looked Catelyn up and down, and declared, “I like her.” Everyone laughed, and so did Catelyn. Adira stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to Al-Dashalid.”

  Rami—he was a different person. He’d handled Issam so well, and now, in the sitting room, his shoulders were relaxed. Her heart fluttered. This was a side of him she could easily come to love.

  “Rami,” boomed Zafir. “Tell us you won’t take her with you to Texas.”

  “I would never leave her here with you wolves,” Rami joked. “Aside from that, Catelyn wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “It’s true,” said Catelyn. “I wouldn’t want to miss a moment with Rami.”

  There was a chorus of awwwws from the assembled group, and Inan giggled. “Are you hungry, grandson?” Zafir asked him, eyes shining. “Let’s sit down to dinner.”

  Her stomach growled. They hadn’t stopped to eat on the plane, and Catelyn was ravenous, though surprisingly she was not nervous about her first meal in Al-Dashalid. They went through to a large, light-bathed dining room, where a full spread waited for them.

  The food—well, it was a revelation. They worked their way through a traditional Middle Eastern feast. Catelyn had the best lentil soup of her life, followed by lamb shawarma, the meat so tender it melted on her tongue.

  “Tell us about your business, Catelyn,” Daya prompted mid-meal.

  Catelyn’s heart squeezed at the thought of her friends back in the States by themselves. She’d check in as soon as she had a chance, she decided. No reason to leave them hanging.

  “It’s a wedding-planning business I started with my two best friends from college.”

  “Best friends?” Zafir was curious. “Doesn’t that make things more difficult?”

  She thought of Laura’s go-getter attitude and Daisy’s charming smile. “No, not at all. We’ve had our disagreements, but being so close has made it easier to smooth things over. We always start from a foundation of respect and
care.” She was almost getting a little choked up at the thought of it and blinked away a sheen of tears from her eyes.

  “You miss them,” commented Adira softly.

  “They’re great,” Catelyn said, getting ahold of herself. “You’d like them.”

  The conversation turned to other things, and before she knew it, the group was moving back into the sitting room. Inan played in the center of the room with a small red ball, and the adults chatted amongst one another. Issam seemed a little more withdrawn after what had happened in the SUV, and he watched quietly from an armchair.

  Rami got into a discussion about the Texas deal with his father, and Catelyn yawned. It was then that Adira appeared at her side.

  “Come walk with me,” the beautiful young woman said.

  “Gladly.” The two women stood and walked into the wide palace hallway, the evening sun streaming in at an angle that made Catelyn’s heart ache.

  “I’ll be honest,” Adira said without preamble. “Issam told me about the blog post.”

  Catelyn’s cheeks heated. “Oh, god…”

  “I didn’t want you to think you had to hide it from me. My parents, on the other hand—” She laughed. “They have no need of that information, and none of us are going to give it to them.”

  “That’s—thank you.” She was so relieved.

  “I think it’s a sign.”

  “I—what?”

  Adria looked at her. “I like you, and now that we’ve had a chance to meet…it’s confirmed my feeling.” She grinned at Catelyn. “I think that post was fate, telling my brother to find you and marry you for real. And does it matter, in the end, how things started? As long as they end in happiness?”

  Catelyn was still thinking of Adira’s words when she lay next to Rami that night, her husband in a deep sleep. Adira had made her feel so welcome.

  But a doubt nagged at her.

  Was it still a fantasy if it was destined to end?

  10

  “What was I thinking?” Catelyn groaned. “You were right. I can’t wear any of this. Especially not to the reception.” Her clothes had been hung up in the closet in the suite of rooms she and Rami were sharing in the palace, and they taunted her from her hangers. “What am I going to do?”

  He leaned against the bed, the long lines of his body tempting. They hadn’t had sex since their arrival in Al-Dashalid two days ago, though Catelyn found herself tossing and turning in the middle of the night, craving his touch. More than once, she’d thought of shaking him awake and demanding what she wanted, but—would that push things over the line? She thought it might.

  “Darling.” Rami crossed his arms in front of his chest. “There’s no need to worry.”

  “Of course there is. Your mother planned this reception. I can’t waltz in in a stupid maxi dress.”

  “Then let’s call the car.”

  “Call the car? To go where?”

  “I want to take you shopping.” Rami crossed the space between them and closed the closet door with a gentle hand. “That’s what I came up here to tell you. I’ve made an appointment.”

  “Where?” She’d looked up some of the shopping districts in Al-Dashalid, and fashion was ripe for the picking. Several famous designers had stores, and her mind raced at the thought of them.

  Rami gave her a wink. “You’ll see. Are you ready to go?”

  She checked herself in the full-length mirror next to the closet. She wore the best outfit she had—a black maxi dress with wider straps. It could easily be paired with a colorful shawl, and she’d be good to go.

  But not for the reception.

  It was a grand occasion to celebrate the success of a new STEM program the royal family had founded with some of the proceeds from Rami’s oil deals. Zafir was very proud of the program, boasting to Catelyn that they already had more applicants for funding than they could take. “Your husband will have to make some more deals,” he’d said with a wink at last night’s dinner.

  “Where are we going?” Catelyn peppered Rami with the question more than once as they climbed into the black SUV. “I have a few designers in mind.”

  “Trust me.” He was being cryptic. She rolled her eyes but took his hand in hers. It felt so natural, the gesture. And anyway, it had to look that way—even if the only watchful person in the vehicle with them was the driver.

  The reception was to be a gala event, fitting for the royal family, and in the car on the way into the heart of the city, Catelyn’s thoughts flitted from designer to designer, wondering which store they’d visit first.

  The driver didn’t let them out at a designer storefront, though.

  They made their way through the historic market center and turned onto a narrow street lined with wide shops.

  “What—”

  “You’ll see.” Rami patted her hand.

  The driver let them out in front of one of those shops, and Rami opened the door for her.

  It was not a place for off-the-rack clothing. One step through the door, and Catelyn’s breath whooshed out of her lungs. The space was wide and long, and every inch of it was filled with sumptuous, colorful fabrics.

  A man in dark clothing waited for them, his glasses winking in the light. “Sheikh Rami,” he said, a wide smile on his face. “Welcome.”

  “Murat. It’s good to see you.” Catelyn matched Rami’s steps as he went to shake hands. “This is my wife, Catelyn.”

  Every time he said it, it felt a little bit less like a farce.

  “A vision,” Murat said, offering his hand to her.

  “Oh, thank you,” Catelyn said. It put her at ease, that was for sure.

  “Catelyn, this is Al-Dashalid’s best dressmaker. He’s the trusted clothier for members of the royal family.” She blushed at that. For now, at least, she was a member of the royal family.

  “And as usual, the royal family has provided instructions." Murat beamed up at Rami. "Are we ready to begin?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Murat swept back into the store toward a well-lit fitting area surrounded by stacks of luxurious fabrics. Catelyn’s excitement grew.

  “What does he mean by instructions?” she whispered to Rami.

  “It means my mother has called ahead with a color scheme,” he whispered back. “You’re going to love it.”

  Everything she saw, she liked. It was all gorgeous. “You were right,” she admitted. “This is nicer than a regular store.”

  Rami’s face was the picture of contentment. Of course it was. He had been right, after all.

  Rami sat back in a plush armchair, watching Murat create miracles out of fabric. He’d pulled a rack of dresses out from a narrow hallway, all of them gorgeous and bright, and all of them matching with exactly what his mother wanted for the event.

  None of them fit Catelyn at first. Every single one swallowed her when she walked out of the dressing room, but Murat approached each one with a flurry of pins. When he was done, they fit her like a glove. Like a dream.

  And she loved it.

  Catelyn, he could tell, was trying to act nonchalant, but her face was flushed pink. She turned in front of the three-way mirror, admiring herself.

  He caught her eye in the mirror as Murat stepped away from the latest dress. She smiled, her eyelashes lowering, and he had to surreptitiously adjust himself. With the dress hugging her curves like that, it was all he could do not to bend her over the very chair he was sitting on.

  “What do you think?” asked Murat neutrally.

  “I love this one,” Catelyn said immediately. “But this is—what, the fifth one I’ve loved?”

  “This, plus two more,” Rami said, and her eyes went wide. “What? I like to look at my wife in clothing as beautiful as she is. I’d pay anything."

  “Rami,” Catelyn murmured. “You can’t simply order clothes for me. It’d be like ordering for me at a restaurant.”

  “Oh, I can.” He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. “We’ll have many other events
to attend. Why not be ready? If you want,” he said with a little grin, “we can make a second trip.”

  Murat laughed.

  “Why would we do that?” Catelyn looked at him with narrowed eyes in the mirror.

  “So you could pretend it wasn’t extravagant.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Catelyn said with a snort. “These are the most gorgeous things ever to touch my body.” She gave him a look in the mirror that send a bolt of want straight through him. “Very nearly.”

  “Two more, then?” Murat said briskly. “Let’s try on the last style.”

  Catelyn disappeared into the dressing room, and Rami let his thoughts wander over what he’d do to those dresses after they were finished at the reception. He was lost in the fantasy until Murat came to his side.

  They were alone, but he still used a hushed voice. “Sheikh Rami, your wife—” He hesitated.

  Rami was on his feet in an instant. “What is it?”

  “She’s refusing to come out of the dressing room.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  Rami went down the hall to the dressing room and rapped sharply on the door. “Catelyn? Are you all right?”

  “I’m not coming out,” she said, sounding…perfectly fine.

  How utterly irritating. “You have to.”

  “I’m not coming out,” she repeated, fabric rustling. “I want—”

  Rami opened the door and barged in.

  Catelyn stood next to a low couch, undressed except for a matching bra and panty set.

  “—a surprise,” she finished.

  He could not tear his eyes from her.

  Rami stuck his head back out the door. There was no sign of Murat, who must have gone to his front office to give them some privacy. He pushed the door so it was nearly shut and came to Catelyn, closing the distance in one long stride, and took her in his arms.

  “You are irresistible,” he said in a low growl, and with a little sigh, Catelyn parted her lips and let him in. He backed her up against the wall of the dressing room, lifting her off the ground, and his body shivered with the delight of touching her. It was as if she’d been made for him. It took no effort to lift her to his height, and the way she wrapped herself around him—it nearly undid him. Every time.