Page 22 of The Sheikh's Defiant Girlfriend

“Hi,” Sara answered the phone.

“What kind of a hello is that to your fiancé?” Alex called out. Sara threw a pillow at her.

“Who said that?” Tariq asked.

“Alex. You’ll meet her tomorrow. How’s the brotherhood bonding?”

“And we’re back to the sarcasm.”

Sara giggled and headed out of the room to take the call in private. She was blushing when she came back.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad,” Alex teased. “I’m really happy for you. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you like this over a guy. I admit, I was worried when you said you’d fallen for an Arab Sheikh, but I can see he’s been good for you.”

Sara hugged her. “Thanks, Alex. That means a lot. I hope you like him.”

She was sure her friend would like Tariq, her brothers too. How could they not? She was marrying the most wonderful man in the world.

* * *

For the first time ever, Sara was up early before everyone else. Today, she was going to be Tariq’s wife. Finally! She sighed with pleasure as she walked out of the room. She went upstairs to check on her baby. Leylah was awake, looking at the ceiling and making happyba ba basounds. She picked her up.

“Morning, ma’am.” Leylah’s nanny came into the room. “I can get her changed and dressed.”

“It’s okay, I’ll take her,” Sara said. Leylah was happy to see her, and Sara wanted some time with her gorgeous daughter before the busy day began. The baby smiled at Sara and put her head on Sara’s shoulder.

“Hi, sweetie,” Sara said and kissed her. She gave her a bath and fed her by the time everyone else woke up and Fiddah arrived. Even Tariq’s mother came over.

“How is the bride today?” Fiddah asked Sara.

“Great!” Sara replied in a gleeful tone.

As the day progressed, her glee waned. The process of getting ready was intense. Her whole body was scrubbed with sea salts, and then she was instructed to soak in warm water with milk and honey. It was all so strange, but the beauticians told her that it would make her skin as soft as butter. After the bath, she was moisturized with oils that smelled heavenly. She touched her skin, and it felt softer than silk.

Sara also received a facial, followed by a manicure and pedicure. The hardest part came last—her hair. After being shampooed and deep conditioned, they blow dried and straightened it. Her wedding stylist worked meticulously until Sara barely recognized herself. She hadn’t known her hair could even go into a contemporary beehive.

When they started on her makeup, Sara changed her mind and decided that all the poking and plucking was the worst part. She wanted a natural look, but she had to admit the dark eye shadow and bold red lipstick were stunning.

Hours later, Sara finally got into her wedding dress. She loved it—the gold embroidery at her waist and on the sleeves, the way it fit her body, and the long skirt trailing out behind her. Instead of a zipper or millions of tiny buttons up the back, it laced like a corset for a precise fit. She wore a gold necklace, matching bracelet, and earrings. She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered where boyish Sara had gone. This Sara was gorgeous. Maybe she should come out to play more often, not just on her wedding day.

“I have waited a long time to see you wearing makeup,” her mother teased. Everyone laughed, but Sara didn’t. She fought back sudden tears. No way was she going to ruin her makeup and have to sit through all of that again.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Tariq’s mother asked.

“I’m scared,” Sara said.

“Should I get the car ready?” Alex joked, but only Sara laughed.

“You don’t feel ready?” Aaliyah asked.

“I really want to marry him, but will I be a good wife?” Sara’s voice was shaky. Tariq’s mother hugged her.

“You will be the perfect wife for my son. Don’t worry,” said Mrs. Botros. Sara’s mother and Fiddah also hugged her and offered words of wisdom. They finally left for the mosque. Once the bridal party had all arrived, they waited in the side room whilst the groom entered the mosque first.

“Dad!” Sara cried out with joy when she saw her father. He hugged her. “Cutting it close,” Sara pouted.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Sara’s father said. “But I’d never miss my baby girl’s biggest day.” He kissed her on the cheek.

Everybody else had entered the mosque. It was only Sara and her father left. Tariq waited for her inside. He wore a cream sherwani with intricate gold embroidery decorating the front, the collar, and the cuffs, with matching cream trousers. His jet-black hair was freshly cut. His face was shaved, and he had a small goatee. His groomsmen, Amir and Malik, stood by his side.

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