The Sheikh's Purchased Bride (11 page)

FIFTEEN

With their plans for drinks, dinner, and late-night movies out the window, Malik had instead invited his family over for dinner later that evening—apparently hell-bent on getting his money’s worth out of her performance. He watched Amie intensely the whole night, seeming to relish any moment where they had to pretend to be close to one another.

Normally, when it came to interacting with Malik’s family, Amie would get nervous; sick to her stomach with hopes of making a good impression, but tonight she felt nothing.

No, in fact, she felt completely in character. She wasn’t Amie, she was
Amie Shaw: heiress, theater owner and entrepreneur.

She was playing the role just perfectly, if she did say so herself. She laughed whenever appropriate, made charming conversation with the parents, and spoke at length with Zafina about her career as a commercial lawyer.

Malik had spent most of the afternoon fussing over the food, and whatever her current feelings towards him, Amie had to admit that the meal they ate was worthy of being called a feast. The table was piled high with plates of hummus, pita bread, couscous, root vegetables, lamb kofta, and a cardamom rose petal cake that she hadn’t yet sampled but which looked amazing.

They were nearing the end of the meal when Malik grabbed Amie’s hand over the table and smiled eagerly as he began, “Father, mother, there is something we wanted to tell you and it simply can’t wait any longer.”

Zafina rolled her eyes as Sadira covered her mouth with her hand and looked expectantly at Amie, awaiting the news.

“We’re getting married, tomorrow!”

“I knew it!” Sadira announced.

Malik’s father smiled and began clapping his hands together with pride. “We had a feeling,” Mahumet said proudly, standing up to hug his son.

“Oh, Amie!” Sadira gushed. “I’m so excited for you!”

Amie merely smiled, momentarily unable to speak.

As it turned out, the “business” Malik had had to take care of the other day was actually booking a large venue and sending out a rush of invitations to dignitaries, friends, and close associates of his family. He’d also managed to book a catering service from a restaurant Amie had loved during her stay in the Middle East. She was in shock when he revealed his plans to her, and couldn’t believe he’d already taken the liberty of making the plans without even consulting her.

Still, she grinned to his family and talked with feigned girlish glee about the venue, the dress, the ceremony, and—as per Malik’s instructions—how they would be having another ceremony back in Chicago for their American friends and her family.

“We still have to meet your family!” Sadira insisted; her eyes welling up with tears. “Please, make it so. You must come back with them, all expenses paid, of course.”

“Of course,” Amie said through half-gritted teeth, shooting Malik a fierce look.

“We spoke with them last night over the phone,” Malik lied confidently. “They both gave their blessing and can’t wait to meet you.”

“We can’t either,” Mahumet said with a laugh.

As Malik’s parents explained how traditional wedding celebrations in Rabayat would last a week or more, depending on the family’s finances, Amie couldn’t help but wonder how the bride didn’t end up with the record of “Worst Hangover Ever” after a full week of partying.

The festivities, Sadira explained, would begin with a small group of friends and family, and then eventually the entire party would arrive to celebrate with the happy couple. Hundreds of guests, she insisted. Hundreds.

Amie didn’t even know a hundred people.

At the wedding, there would be a weeklong feast, complete with henna painting, music, and storytelling. Zafina informed Amie that on one of the days leading up to the ceremony, all of the men in the bridal party would attend a bathhouse and endure an intense cleaning ritual that involved slick shaving and singing.

Hearing this, Amie’s eyes went wide, but she resisted the urge to tell Zafina what men in America did the night before the wedding: strippers and beer. Somehow a clean shave and a couple of frat-house jokes seemed much more appealing.

Still, with the abrupt timing, Sadira said this would have to be a compacted version of a traditional ceremony, and she hoped Amie would still find joy in her smaller wedding. She said there would still be a procession of cars to celebrate, as well as fireworks later in the evening, but everything else would need to be cut down exponentially.

For his part, Malik’s usually curt father was all smiles and welcoming embraces tonight, giving Malik sound, fatherly advice on how to be a good husband and to lead his household with dignity. In fact, the whole family seemed elated by the spontaneously-booked wedding. Even Zafina sat back in her chair with a broad grin on her face, as though she couldn’t help but be infected by the joyous excitement in the air.

True to Malik’s fears, both
of his parents made subtle digs about his former life as a man about town. His father teased that there would be no more women in Malik’s life, unless he wanted to suffer the wrath of an angry wife.

“When she’s not happy,” Mahumet laughed heartily. “Nobody’s happy! So you do your best to be a good man.”

The dinner went on as most of their other social gatherings did: light and airy with the overwhelming ambiance of family, and of course, amazing food. This time, Amie didn’t particularly care about making a good impression, but still, she stuck to her contract, acting every inch the refined and excited bride-to-be.

The only part of the evening that puzzled Amie was Zafina’s reaction. Aside from a brief “congratulations”, the sister said very little to either of them. It was surprisingly unlike her to be so fuss-free.

Since the ‘wedding’ was to take place the following morning, the entire family was staying at Malik’s palace so they could get ready together.

Later, as the happy couple were heading to their respective rooms, Zafina finally made her strike.

She approached them with her arms crossed; a smug smile creeping across her face as she cornered them in the hallway. Then she said the five most fear-inspiring words she could have chosen: “I know what you’re doing.”

Zafina raised her eyebrow condescendingly and both Malik and Amie froze on the spot. “That’s right,” she continued slowly; clearly loving every minute. “I’ve been doing some research—”

Before the sister has a chance to finish her thought, however, Malik quickly covered her mouth with his hand and instructed her to come and talk somewhere a little more private.

The three of them made their way onto the roof; a flat terrace that looked out over the desert countryside. The night was warm, with a cool breeze coming every so often as a refreshment.

Once on the roof, Zafina grinned smugly and raised both of her brows as she asked, “May I continue, brother?”

Malik gave a dismissive wave of his hand and sighed. “If you must.”

“There is nothing about this that made sense,” Zafina said accusingly. “First, I read about your affair with a high profile businesswoman, back in the States; pictures all over the internet. Then you’re calling mother and father saying no, it isn’t true, and that you’ve been seeing someone else.”

“So?” Malik asked, sounding bored. “I am seeing someone else.”

“And yet you couldn’t tell us a thing about her! You wouldn’t even tell us her name. Want to know why?”

He raised his eyebrows. “This’ll be good.”

“Because you didn’t know
her name yet,” she said with finality. “I looked Amie up online. Sorry, Amie,” she said looking at her faux sister-in-law to be.

Amie merely shrugged sadly; guilt rushing through every inch of her body, but Malik kept up the act, refusing to give in to Zafina’s claims so easily.

“Amie’s mother is no doctor, she’s a cashier! And Amie doesn’t run a theater; she’s an out-of-work actress!”

“The information you found is incorrect,” Malik said easily, his voice smooth and convincing.

Zafina scoffed and pulled several print-outs from her purse. “I have the proof right here,” she stated simply. “Now stop lying and tell me what’s going on.”

Amie hung her head in shame and gave way to tears. Malik quickly put his arms around her and glared at Zafina, who now looked awkward before them.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Amie,” Zafina said quietly. “I just… I don’t know what you guys think you’re doing. I’m not impressed with all these lies, and if I’m not, imagine what our parents will think.”

“I know,” Malik said in a whispered sigh. “Please, don’t tell them, Zafina. You know how they are.”

Zafina went to speak but seemed to think better of it. She gave Amie a long look and then sighed, reaching for Malik’s hand. “I’m just… so disappointed,” she said heavily.

“I understand,” he said, sounding absolutely ashamed.

Zafina frowned, as though she were battling an intense inner argument. Finally, she made eye contact with Amie and sighed. “I like you,” she said begrudgingly. “At first, I found you annoying, but damn it, I just can’t help but like you,” she swore with a laugh. “And you!” she glared at her brother. “You’re an idiot… but I love you. I’ll keep your secret.”

Malik sighed with relief and squeezed his sister’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you, Zafina.”

“I know it wasn’t always easy for you after you left Rabayat. And I understand, sort of, what you’re trying to do. I know that they need peace,” she said of her parents. “I also know they want what’s best for you and for certain they think Amie is it. But, please, at least tell me you at least love the girl?”

“Amie?” Malik repeated with some surprise.

Zafina raised her brows as though the answer should be obvious and Malik laughed.

“I do,” Malik said firmly. “I love her very much.”

The sentiment sent shivers down Amie’s arms and all at once her tears stopped; she’d learned to sense when Malik was acting, and this didn’t feel like it.

Zafina squinted her eyes as though she were feeling her brother out. Finally, she let his hand go. “Then you might not be as stupid as I thought.”

Malik laughed with relief. “Honestly, thank you Zafina. You have no idea how much this means to me. To both of us,” he corrected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zafina rolled her eyes as she started making her way over to the staircase. “You’re still an idiot.”

***

Amie and Malik stood frozen on the rooftop for some time, both unwilling to be the first one to speak. After a long, tense silence, the two of them made their way down to the living room where Malik’s parents were happily chatting away, oohing and ahhing over the impromptu wedding to come.

Amie felt rotten. She could still hear them chattering in the house as she made her way into the back gardens alone. Her head was reeling. She couldn’t think of anything besides the people she would be disappointing. And what would Malik say, down the road? That she’d left him? What would happen when he did meet a girl he wanted to marry? Would he just
not
bring her home, on account of his fake wife from years gone by? These were all the questions she kept asking, and all the answers Malik didn’t have.

She sat by the garden waterfall. The water that flowed from it was crystal clear and highlighted by the sunset in an array of reds and purples as it gushed over the rock fountain into the pool below. She could hear footsteps drawing nearer to her and turned to see Malik standing before her.

He took a seat next to her and looked her up and down. She still wore her dress from dinner; elegant, short sleeved with frills, contrasting greatly with the bare feet that squeezed into the moist soil below them.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he chirped quietly. He waited for a response, and when one failed to present itself, began walking around the pool.

Amie stayed silent, merely watching him as he looked down at the water with his hands in his pockets. The dawning night began to hide the colors around them, but she knew his brown eyes were still there, wondering and watching. He looked over at her once more, a melancholy look that she couldn’t help but feel something for.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” came her delayed response.

Hearing her voice, Malik came and sat down beside her. Both of them watched in silence, listening to the sounds of falling water. And then, it started to rain.

Rain was not usual in Rabayat, especially not outside the rainy season. Malik watched as a droplet made its way down Amie’s warm skin, hitting the tip of her nose and past her pink lips. Finally, she smiled at him, and it was obvious now that she was crying.

She sniffed and her cheeks flushed. She’d tried so hard to be angry with him, and now she didn’t know what she felt. He looked so hurt… but then why continue the farce?

He inched closer to her and grabbed her hand; small and cold, her fingers stiff.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, just everything,” she said, hanging her head and giving a helpless shrug as salty tears washed over her.

“Don’t worry about Zafina; she won’t say anything,” he said. His voice was so reassuring, she almost believed him.

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “I’m begging you,” she said through her tears. “Please don’t do this. We can call off the wedding and just be
together. Don’t you want that?” She laughed, despite herself. “That’s all I wanted, just to be with you. Why can’t we just do that and avoid all of these lies?”

“Yes,” he finally laughed. “I want that! I want to be with you. I want to whisk you back to America right now and take you to all the places I love, to meet your family, to see your apartment and watch you perform on stage. I want all of it.”

“Did you really mean what you said to Zafina, about your feelings for me?”

There was a moment of silence before Malik sighed; a smile coming over him. “I do love you, yes.”

Amie’s eyes filled with tears and for the first time since that morning her stomach finally settled. “And you really want all those things with me?” she asked softly as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “We just need to finish this first.”

And there went her stomach again.

“Malik!” she scolded. “If that’s the case then I… I can’t be with you.”

“Why not?” he asked, his brows narrowed painfully.

She stared at him, hard, and put her hand flat on his chest, pushing for emphasis. “Look, as charming as the whole ‘mysterious bad-boy’
thing is, I promised myself I’d stop with those guys when I was, oh, I don’t know… 17?”

“A promise you’ve kept?” he teased.

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play with me, Malik,” she said firmly. “I can’t be with someone who would do this to his family. Please… please, let’s just come clean about it, or at least tell them we’ve decided not to go through with the wedding until we can get both of our families together.”

“We’ve already lied, what’s the difference?” he asked harshly.

“We can still make it right. We can stop all this from snowballing out of control.”

Malik stood from her and stared down at the floor; the disappointment scrawled clear across his face. “You just don’t understand,” he said simply. “I’m sorry I put you in this situation, but we’re here now, and this is just what has to happen.”

Amie looked down at the ground and said nothing, her face a sad picture of resignation as she heard Malik walking away from her, closing the poolroom doors behind him as he entered the house once more.

She was wrong. He wasn’t going to turn it around. The future she had daydreamed about—it turned out it didn’t exist in the slightest.