His Beloved Bride (Wedded to the Sheikh Book 3)

  His Beloved Bride

  Wedded to the Sheikh Book Three

  Holly Rayner

  Contents

  His Beloved Bride

  1. Alyssa

  2. Ali

  3. Alyssa

  4. Alyssa

  5. Ali

  6. Alyssa

  7. Alyssa

  8. Alyssa

  9. Alyssa

  10. Ali

  11. Alyssa

  12. Alyssa

  13. Ali

  14. Alyssa

  15. Alyssa

  16. Alyssa

  17. Alyssa

  18. Ali

  19. Alyssa

  20. Ali

  More Series by Holly Rayner

  His Beloved Bride

  Copyright 2018 by Holly Rayner

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Alyssa

  “Shh, shh,” Alyssa cooed, bouncing three-month-old baby Rashid in her arms. Outside, a light rain splattered the kitchen windows. It was a July dusk in New York City, the red, yellow and white lights of the cars far below sparkling away.

  It used to be that Alyssa dreaded Friday nights. Years before, she’d lost much of her desire to hang out at clubs and bars, and that switch had produced both positive and negative repercussions. On the one hand, staying in had meant less spending money on drinks she didn’t really want and less getting hit on by creepy guys, but on the other, it meant spiraling into a lonely funk.

  Nowadays, she looked forward to Fridays. Aside from the occasional business dinner, Ali was home, sharing stories about his day and making plans with the family for the weekend. Since Rashid had arrived, Alyssa had taken to working part-time at her job at the nonprofit. Being lucky enough to take it if she’d wanted, she’d considered a full six-month maternity leave. In the end, though, she knew that wasn’t for her. Balance was where it was at.

  So, that meant going into the office three days a week while Rashid was with his nanny. It was the best of both worlds. She felt extremely blessed.

  “Is his bottle ready?” Alyssa asked, turning away from the window and looking at Ali.

  “Just about.” He glanced up at her from the stovetop, and an automatic smile pulled at Alyssa’s lips. Was it possible that her fiancé just kept getting better looking? With his black, wavy hair and firm jaw, Ali looked like a cover model—like he should always be stretched out on the beach, shirtless.

  “He needs an eight ounce,” Alyssa said. “Not four.”

  “I know, darling,” Ali replied, his voice soothing.

  Alyssa sighed. “Sorry. He’s just been cranky today.”

  As if wanting to prove that point, Rashid burst into a loud cry. Alyssa rubbed her palm around his back and kissed the top of his head.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Daddy has your bottle coming.”

  “Ready!” Ali announced.

  He brought the bottle over, and Rashid’s brown eyes widened as he saw it coming. The bottle went into his mouth with a pop, and he let out one of those big belly sighs that only babies could. He suckled away, his eyelids growing heavy.

  “He’s tired tonight,” Ali whispered.

  “Yeah, Kinsley said he woke up from his nap early,” Alyssa said, referring to the nanny they’d hired two months back.

  They stood there together in the kitchen, the silence broken only by the loud sucks of a happy baby. Ali put his hand on Alyssa’s shoulder, and a deep sense of gratitude filled her.

  “Wow, this is what life is really about,” she whispered. “You know? All the worrying and running around and trying to get ahead all the time…it seems so important, but in the end, it’s only being here that feels important. Being with people you love.”

  Ali squeezed her shoulder. “I do know.”

  Rashid let out a long sigh and the bottle’s nipple slipped from his mouth. A fat drop of milk clung to his lips, and Ali wiped it away with his thumb.

  Walking slowly so as not to wake the baby, Alyssa took Rashid to the nursery across the hall from the master bedroom. He’d wake later in the night, of course, and there was a good chance Ali or Alyssa would bring him into their room and put him in the bassinet next to their bed, but for now, he slumbered in his crib. Ali turned on the nightlight, and colorful starfish and octopuses floated across the wall.

  There was a soft meow as Gambit peeked into the room. He ran his tail along the doorframe and looked up at his humans.

  “No, Gambit,” Ali whispered, waving his hand at the cat. “No cats in the baby’s room.”

  Alyssa leaned down to kiss their baby on the forehead. Then, because she couldn’t resist, she planted a kiss on each cheek.

  She stepped back, giving Ali room to kiss Rashid. Then, together, they gently closed the door and went back to the front of the apartment.

  The cats were on the couch, Ralph laying on his side and Gambit sitting there, tail still twitching and ears flicking as he scanned the room for a bug or piece of lint he might be able to play with. Though he was full grown, Gambit was one of those cats who would probably always be a kitten at heart.

  Alyssa collapsed onto the couch and put her feet up on the footstool.

  “Tea?” Ali asked.

  “Oh, please. Don’t worry about the tray and the mangos cut to look like flowers, though.”

  Ali rolled his eyes. “But that is the Baqari way.”

  “I know.” Alyssa took hold of his hand. “I’m only poking fun.”

  He ran his palm over the top of her head. “Be right back.”

  Relaxing on the couch, Alyssa brought her phone out and checked her messages. Lucy had sent her a picture of some guy on the subway that she swore was a celebrity. There was a work email, which Alyssa was tempted to open, but she held off. Tomorrow morning, she promised herself.

  There were also three emails from her mom, each of them pertaining to the upcoming wedding. One contained about a dozen pictures of wedding dresses and another contained baby-tux options for Rashid. The last email was all about venues. Destination or in town, Laurie wanted to know, and, if the former, where? Beach? Mountains?

  Alyssa could nearly feel her mother’s anxiety seeping out of the email. It heightened her own nerves, not that she needed much help with that. For some reason, she and Ali had set their wedding date without giving much thought to anything else. Now, reaching the middle of July, they were only two months away from the big day.

  Alyssa put the phone down on the coffee table without replying to any of the messages. Her stomach felt like a pile of wet rope, and a frantic feeling was rising.

  Footsteps announced Ali’s entrance. He set two mugs of tea on the marble coasters on the coffee table and took his seat on the cushion next to Alyssa.

  Ali brought Alyssa’s legs across his lap and sighed. “All right. We made it to Friday. We get to sleep in tomorrow.” His grin was short-lived. “Wait. Aren’t you dress shopping tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” Alyssa picked up her tea, then put it back down. Chamomile wasn’t going to do anything for her queasiness.

  Ali cocked his head. “Is everything okay?”

  “The we
dding is two months away.”

  “Yes.” He nodded slowly.

  “Ali, what were we thinking, telling everyone to save the second Saturday in September? How on earth are we gonna pull this off?”

  He rubbed the back of her neck, and a trickle of peace flowed from his fingers and into Alyssa. She felt better. Slightly.

  “I admit it was a rash decision,” Ali said. “We can blame it on our parents, if you like.”

  Alyssa snorted. It was true that both sets of parents were desperate to see the couple married. The pressure from the four of them, though Alyssa tried not to let it rule her life, often ended up affecting her decisions when she didn’t mean for it to.

  “No,” she said. “We’re adults. We can’t keep putting everything on them.”

  “Are you sure? Wouldn’t it be fun?”

  “Stop.” Alyssa rubbed the little indention in Ali’s chin. It was only noticeable when he was clean-shaven, and right then, she found she couldn’t keep her fingers off of the cute dimple.

  “How about we hire a wedding planner?” he asked, brows drawing together as he grew serious. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to suggest it before, as a matter of fact.”

  Alyssa caught her bottom lip between her teeth and thought about that. “I guess that’s a good idea. But how are we going to get someone to bring a wedding to life when we don’t even know what we want?”

  For some reason, Ali looked confused. “I assumed we would have a traditional Baqari wedding.”

  “I…” Alyssa faltered. “Okay, um…we talked about that. I don’t remember ever agreeing to it.”

  Ali licked his lips and looked down. It was a gesture Alyssa knew well. He did it when he was annoyed or, occasionally, hungry. “My parents—”

  “Right,” Alyssa cut in. “Your parents. Of course.”

  Ali arched an eyebrow.

  “Look,” Alyssa said. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re always under your parents’ thumb, okay? Sometimes, I find myself still picking out the shoes I know they’d want me to get.”

  “That is…”

  “Too much, I know,” Alyssa finished. “But what I’m saying here is that we can’t just do something because your parents want us to.”

  “Okay.” Ali folded his hands on top of her legs, which were still stretched out across his lap. “What would you like to do?”

  “Well, for starters, what if we have something like a blended Baqari and American wedding?”

  Ali’s gaze drifted to the side as he thought about it. “That could work,” he said after a pause.

  “I want to show you something,” Alyssa said, plucking her phone off the coffee table. “One of my old coworkers from the law firm had a wedding upstate a few years ago. It was on this farm, outside. They had tables set up under the trees, and lights were strung all in the branches above. It was simple, but super cute. And there was a jam for music. They had guests bring their own instruments and it was, like, an all-night hoedown.”

  “Economical,” Ali commented.

  Alyssa found the pictures on her phone and swiped through them so they both could see.

  “Don’t forget we have no budget for this,” Ali said. “My parents are willing to spend whatever’s necessary.”

  Alyssa put the phone down. “It’s not about penny-pinching. I like the setting. The simplicity of it. Don’t you?”

  “It’s nice,” Ali offered.

  “But you don’t like it?” Alyssa’s face grew warm.

  Ali sighed. “I feel like you’re taking this personally.”

  “Of course I am,” Alyssa said. “It’s our wedding. It should be personal.”

  Ali lifted a finger and tucked his chin, considering his response. “We have to think of more than what just we want,” he said.

  Alyssa stared at him. “I honestly didn’t think pleasing your parents was that important to you.”

  His jaw flexed. “It is not about pleasing my parents. I am Baqari royalty, and you are about to be as well. While we live detached from most of the constraints that entails, there are certain actions that we are obligated to. My family’s highest connections will not be impressed by a wedding in a field followed by goat yoga.”

  “Goat yoga?” Alyssa shrieked. “Who said anything about that?”

  “The last part was a joke,” Ali said flatly.

  Alyssa crossed her arms. “Well, I’m not laughing.”

  “Alyssa.” Forcing her to unfold her arms, he took her hand in his. “Please understand. This is simply not my personal taste.”

  She chewed on the inside of her lip. “I understand…okay, so, what are you thinking? I mean, what does Baqar expect?”

  Weird, Alyssa reflected. I’m asking what an entire country requires of my wedding. Never thought I’d be here.

  “Typically, Baqari weddings are rather elaborate affairs,” Ali said. “They take place over several days, often in exotic locations. The guest lists are long, especially for members of the royal family. Many politicians and other people of influence from around the globe are invited.”

  “So, it’s like a whole festival thing,” Alyssa mumbled.

  “I suppose so, yes.”

  “But you won’t even be taking the crown,” Alyssa pointed out. “Is it really such a big deal for you to have this kind of wedding?”

  Ali’s face tightened. “It is.”

  “Then, that’s just it, huh? What I want doesn’t matter?” Alyssa drew her legs out of his lap and brought them to her chest, where she wrapped her arms around them.

  “Alyssa, don’t do this.”

  “Do what? Want to make decisions about my own life?”

  With that, Alyssa stood and stormed out of the living room.

  In the kitchen, she leaned over the sink and closed her eyes, her breathing heavy and her heart beating fast.

  I’m hormonal. I’m tired. I just gave birth three months ago! None of this is a big deal.

  She listed every excuse she could, but none of them worked. This was her wedding. Her only wedding. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting it a certain way.

  “Alyssa,” Ali said.

  She opened her eyes and found him standing in the doorway.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly.

  “Thanks.” Tears filled Alyssa’s eyes. Okay, so she was a little hormonal.

  “I understand that you’ve probably had an idea of what you’ve wanted your wedding to be like for years,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I have. But so have you. And I get that.”

  “Actually…” Ali pushed his hands into his pants’ pockets. “There was a time when I thought that I would never marry, so…”

  Alyssa gawked at him. How was this supposed to make her feel better? So, she was right. This really was all about what other people wanted.

  “I’m marrying you,” Alyssa stated. “It’s weird to think of having to consider other people’s opinions.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “But will you at least think about it?”

  Alyssa straightened up from the sink. “We don’t have much time. But yeah. I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you, my love,” Ali said softly, and Alyssa realized that navigating this wedding was likely just as difficult for him as it was for her. It was important that they work through it together, but how could they, when their viewpoints were so different?

  Chapter 2

  Ali

  Baby in one arm and carton of milk in the other, Ali poured milk into the oatmeal bowl…and missed. White liquid flooded the countertop, and Ali bit back a curse.

  Grabbing a towel, he mopped up the mess. “Daddy is not very good at multitasking,” he told Rashid.

  The baby sucked on his frozen teething ring. He didn’t have any teeth coming in yet, but the coolness on his gums seemed to make him happy, so Ali had pulled the ring from the freezer upon entering the kitchen.

  Alyssa entered the kitchen, dresse
d in jeans and a flowy blouse, with her hair and makeup done, but with bags under her eyes. Ali’s chest tightened. If she had not gotten much sleep the night before, he was partially responsible. Rashid had only woken up once, and Ali had been the one to get up and tend to him. That meant that if Alyssa had not slept well, it was because of something on her mind. Most likely, this wedding business.

  “I made oatmeal,” Ali said.

  “Thanks.” Alyssa went to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup.

  “What time is Kinsley arriving?” he asked.

  “She’s not.” Alyssa leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee. “I gave her the day off.”

  Ali frowned. “I have a work lunch. Will you be back before that?”

  “No. I wanted to bring Rashid with. Or, rather, Lucy wanted me to bring Rashid. ‘Don’t bother showing up unless you have a baby with you,’ was how she put it, I think. She’ll hold him while I try dresses on. He’ll be good.”

  “I know he will.” Ali stroked Rashid’s head. Their son generally had a naturally calm temperament. He loved to just lay down and look at things, and being left in his bouncer or stroller never bothered him. He was merely happy to experience life.

  “What time is it?” Alyssa asked.

  He glanced at his watch—not the easiest task, as that was the arm he held Rashid with. “Almost nine.”

  “Shoot. I have to go.” Alyssa transferred her coffee into a to-go mug and came to take Rashid from Ali’s arms.

  “Hey.” Ali paused, not willing to hand the baby over just yet. “I didn’t mean to upset you last night.”

  Alyssa’s face softened. “I know you didn’t.”

  He parted his lips, wanting to say more, but what could he add? If he did not provide the wedding his country and family expected, it would be very bad news indeed. It would appear as if his family were snubbing Baqari tradition. People had been understanding of Ali’s lifestyle when he was single and a bit younger, but things were different, now.