It wasn’t the most Faidh had said to Mina, but it was the most serious thing he’d ever told her. No teasing. No flirting. No backing away because things were too serious. Just Faidh’s heart on display for her.

  She shivered with the intimacy of the moment.

  Mina paused in cleaning the prep table and turned to see his face. To really look at him. Study him. It was like the first time he’d walked into her kitchen and come to talk to her. All bravado and confidence, but there had been more underneath. If he’d shed his role as sheikh, then Faidh was free to do anything. Why did he want her?

  She wanted him, that much was for certain. Even having him in the same room made her nerves light up and her heart beat faster. Every part of her longed to be closer to him and not separated by any distance. Mina loved spending time with him. It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t a sheikh.

  “I want a real answer,” she said softly. “Not one that you’re going to tell the press someday about how you found a new career. What do you want?”

  “I’m in love with you,” he said, and her eyes filled with tears. “After you left, I felt like the world had lost all its vibrancy. Even the things I’d loved to do were shadows of their former selves. And everywhere in the palace, I saw you. Places you had been. Things you’d said. And I just…I ached for those things. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake in letting you go. I never should have done it.”

  “Faidh—”

  “I would do anything,” he said in a rush, as if his heart might explode if he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. Her own heart pounded. “I would be anything if you’d consider coming back to Nouzar.” Faidh reached into his pocket and took out a ring. Not the one he’d given her as a prop. A new one. It looked perfect for her. The diamond’s platinum setting would allow for plenty of rinsing and washing, and the intricate loops of metal would stand up to almost any outside force.

  Mina took one tentative step toward him, then stopped herself. “If I do that, I want to know you. I want everything, Faidh.” She had to be sure before she decided. Mina had taken a leap of faith before, but now she needed him to take one, to trust her and welcome her into his life for real. “I want to know what’s happening. With you and with your family and with Nouzar. I don’t want you to keep anything from me. Because—” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He came to her then and folded his arms around her. Faidh drew her in close enough for her to feel his heartbeat. “I’ve missed you,” he said, kissing the top of her head, her hair, her cheeks. “It was like half my body had gone missing. I couldn’t bear the thought of a lifetime without you. I will be anyone you want me to be, if there’s any hope at all.”

  “Any hope?” Mina gasped. “I’m head over heels in love with you, Faidh. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment you walked into that pastry kitchen. I want to be with you so badly. I want to have time for you to tell me everything. There are things I want to tell you, too. Can we do that? Please.”

  “Yes,” he promised, and she heard how much he meant it in his voice. “Be my wife.”

  “I will,” breathed Mina, and then her arms went around his neck, and she pulled him into a deep, long kiss. This was what her husband tasted like. Whatever he wanted to do, she could grab his hand and go too. Drive cars. Leave royalty behind. It didn’t matter. She wanted him, even if it was risky. “I’ll be your wife. I love you, Faidh. I love you to the ends of the earth.”

  “And all the way back again,” said Faidh, and he leaned in for another kiss. He couldn’t stay away.

  Epilogue

  The palace courtyard was bathed in a fragrant breeze from all the flowers surrounding them as Faidh stood with Mina in front of all their invited guests. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was dressed all in white, her gown made by Nouzar’s most famous designer and meant to be a combination of American fashion and Nouzarian tradition. It flowed around her body like a dream, nipping in at all the right places, and the lace sleeves made him want to take it off her.

  But first.

  He had promises to make. Mina had just made hers, and Faidh felt them glowing in the center of his chest. This was perfect happiness—this moment, right here, with his brothers standing up in his wedding and the love of his life about to become his wedded wife.

  “I vow to love you and honor you all the days of my life,” Faidh said. “I vow to be your harbor in a storm and your warmth in winter. I vow to support you, cherish you, and love you until my very last breath and past it.”

  Mina’s eyes shone as he slipped her wedding band onto her finger.

  It was a perfect fit. Meher, in her typical big-sister fashion, had insisted that Faidh take advantage of the palace jeweler, with all her years of experience in adapting the royal jewels to fit each new generation. The ring that sparkled on Mina’s finger now was a delicate piece that had been part of Faidh’s mother’s collection. Not her own wedding ring—Meher had worn that one every day since she and Elyas had spoken their vows—but a gift from Faidh’s father on their first anniversary. Two strands of platinum twisted together around a row of perfect, petite diamonds.

  Faidh loved it on her. His mother had loved it, too. Mina beamed down at the ring on her finger, then looked into Faidh’s eyes. God, she was beautiful. She was everything.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Meher said, who served as officiant. “You may kiss your bride.”

  Faidh took his new wife’s face in his hands and kissed her, softly at first, then deeply. Applause went up from the small gathering of friends and family who had come to witness their wedding ceremony. It was not the wedding he’d have had as sheikh. Far less pomp and circumstance, and only a small number of politically connected guests.

  It was, in other words, a dream come true.

  They’d held the ceremony on one end of the courtyard, and Faidh escorted Mina back down the paved path as the guests clapped for them. “We’re married now,” he said into her ear, unable to keep a smile off his face. He never wanted to keep a smile off his face again. “You’re my wife.”

  “You’re my husband,” she said, squeezing his bicep through the jacket of his tuxedo.

  “You’re my wife,” he repeated, and nothing had ever tasted so good. Except perhaps Mina herself.

  They had a few private minutes in a mosaiced nook with the photographer as their guests made their way to the opposite side of the courtyard. It had been decorated like a fairy tale, with gauzy fabric creating dimension above them and twinkling lights everywhere that would keep the courtyard glowing as the sun set.

  “You look so happy,” he told his new wife as the photographer called out directions for various poses.

  “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Mina answered. “I’m with you.”

  They’d been together since the day he’d gone to see her at the café. Faidh had spent a full two weeks in the United States, getting to know Mina’s parents and getting to know her. The Mina who existed outside of the kitchens. The Mina whose father had received a full pardon and been allowed to come back to Nouzar for the wedding. Meher had confirmed the pardon to the council, despite their reservations. Naturally, Faidh’s sister had approached it in a more measured way. She had gone to them with proof of the sheikh of Larasan’s extortion and presented her case.

  It had been a unanimous agreement to uphold the pardon.

  Faidh escorted his new bride to the reception. Their guests were gathered around the tables, the area bursting with fresh flowers, and Faidh had never felt so pleased in his life.

  “Mama,” Mina said as they approached her parents. “Dad. Come look at the cake.”

  The cake was displayed in a place of prominence not far from where he and Mina would be seated at the head of the table. Mina led her mother to it by the hand, her face flushed with pride.

  “Oh, Mina,” her mother said. “It’s beautiful. You have such a talent for small details.”

  She was right. The cake had been constructed and finished by Mina and Alma, and it was a monument to small details. Mina had wanted three tiers, and the two of them had worked together to create decorations made from delicate swoops and falls of frosting and honeyed figs.

  “It was the last project we did before Alma officially retired,” Mina told her father.

  “Bittersweet.” He drew Mina in for a quick embrace. “She was lucky to have you as her apprentice. And the palace is lucky to have you now.”

  “I can only hope to fill her shoes.” Mina grinned at Faidh. He knew how much she wanted to prove herself as the palace’s head pastry chef. And she did so, every single day.

  He heard his sister talking off to the side and went to her. “Excuse me.” Faidh interrupted her conversation with the charming grace he’d used constantly as sheikh. “I need to borrow my sister for a moment.”

  “What is it?” Meher asked as he led her back to where Mina stood with her parents at the cake. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. It’s time for introductions. We’re all family now, and they should know you’re not so terrifying.”

  Meher sniffed. “I am terrifying,” she said. “They’re not wrong.”

  Mina’s father stiffened when he saw them approaching, his jaw setting, but Faidh ignored this. For all he’d wanted to get out of his position as sheikh, it had given him the skills to smooth over moments like this. “Abbas, Belinda, this is my sister Meher, sheikha of Nouzar.”

  “Hello.” Meher had turned on her own sheikha personality, injected with a bit more of her true self. “Mr. Hamid, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She took Mina’s father’s hand in both of hers, looking into his eyes. Then she did the same for her mother. “I understand this is your first visit back to Nouzar in quite some time. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?”

  Mina’s parents visibly relaxed. Her mother’s eyebrows rose, a fraction of a second of pure surprise, and she put a hand to her chest. “Oh, no. Being able to be with Mina in the palace has been wonderful. There’s not a thing you could offer us that would be better.”

  It had taken a near miracle to convince the infamous Abbas Hamid to come to Nouzar in the first place. Faidh had had to personally assure him that he wouldn’t be carted off by secret police the moment the plane touched down. He had hired a foreign security company to guarantee Mr. Hamid’s safety from the private plane to the palace. He had made every possible promise, and still the man had been silent until they reached the guest rooms where they’d be staying.

  “I didn’t believe it,” he’d said to Faidh, after a brief tour of the suite. “I didn’t believe the pardon was real.”

  He’d shaken his soon-to-be father-in-law’s hand. “It’s real as anything.”

  Now, with both her parents at the wedding, Mina was incandescent with happiness. Over the past year, Abbas had been progressively more relaxed around Faidh, but he’d refused every invitation to the palace so far. The wedding was a triumph, and so was meshing the two of them with Faidh’s family.

  “Abbas!” The voice came from nearby, and then Amare’s son Taavi shoved past Faidh to get to Mina’s father.

  “Taavi!” The older man said back, and then the two of them were talking animatedly about a drawing Taavi had been working on based on a video game he’d been learning to play.

  “I don’t think my father would still be here if it weren’t for Taavi.” Mina hooked her arm through Faidh’s as she murmured this into his ear.

  “I know he wouldn’t be.”

  Taavi had taken to Abbas the very first night after Abbas and Belinda arrived from the United States. Amare’s son had decided the man needed a friend and became one. They’d been thick as thieves ever since. Faidh suspected that Abbas felt a little safer with Taavi around. Less likely to get arrested or detained when another sheikh’s son was giving him a tour of the palace and making him attend sailboat races in one of the fountains.

  “A beautiful wedding,” said Amare, catching up to them. Next came Camil and Piper’s son Zayn, toddling on chubby legs, with Camil and Piper close behind. Taavi bent down to play with the little boy as Amare and Camil slapped Faidh’s back and congratulated him on finally being married.

  “I’m glad you were there,” Faidh told them, his throat going tight with emotion. “I couldn’t have chosen anyone better to stand up with me.”

  “You could have,” joked Camil. “But we’re all you’ve got.”

  It wasn’t quite true. Not anymore. There had been a time when all they had was each other, but now the family they’d chosen—the three of them, their wives, the children.

  “You’re enough,” Faidh said, and he mean it to sound light and carefree, nearly a joke. It came out seriously, though. He meant it.

  “Tell us about the racetrack,” Amare said.

  Fresh joy bloomed in his chest. For the first time in his life, Faidh had been able to concentrate on doing what he loved. “The track is perfected,” he told his friends, and Mina leaned into her father to whisper some of the details to Abbas. “The Grand Prix is going to be the first major race there. We had so many contestants that we’re going to have to do two waves.”

  “And life at the palace?” Camil asked. “What will you do now that you’re married?”

  “A small estate a bit closer to the track,” Faidh said. He and Mina had stayed at the palace the past year while Faidh figured out how he’d be part of his sister’s new government. It turned out that he was best for consulting, best for public appearances to support her causes and raise money for the kingdom. It left him plenty of time to spend at the racetrack. And with Mina, who was more important than everything else. “Still on palace grounds, for security purposes, but cuts ten minutes off the drive.”

  “Yes—we all know how much you hate to drive,” Amare said wryly, and everyone laughed.

  Faidh laughed, too.

  “Come now,” Meher said. “We’re ignoring the other guests. Shall I speak first, or would you like to, Abbas?”

  She and Mina’s father headed back toward the other assembled guests, both of them trying to let the other make the first speech. Faidh’s friends—his brothers, really—followed, Taavi and Zayn with them.

  For a moment, he stood alone with Mina, looking out at their reception. A small band had begun to play in the corner, and music drifted out over the people waiting to hear speeches and eat dinner and dance. The whole courtyard seemed to glow with love and fairy lights.

  Mina slipped her hand into his and held on tight. “Did it turn out?”

  Faidh looked into Mina’s eyes. “Did what turn out, wife of mine?”

  “Is it how you imagined? Not being sheikh. Being married to me. Do you love it?”

  He leaned down to kiss her lips. A quick brush, though he wanted to linger for a long, long time. “With my whole heart,” he said. “Come dance with me. Now and forever.”

  End of Sheikh’s Pretend Engagement

  Sheikhs Pact Book Three

  Sheikh’s False Fiancée, 7 October 2021

  Sheikh’s Pregnant American, 14 October 2021

  Sheikh’s Pretend Engagement, 21 October 2021

  PS: Do you love playboy billionaires? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from Sheikh’s Surprise Son and The Sheikh’s False Fiancée.

  Thank you!

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  BLURB

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