Ra’if’s answering nod was small. “I was prepared to throw my life away.” He turned, taking in the sea of well-wishers who’d been arriving at the Principal Palace gates for two days. “I threw away my kingdom; my people.” He slid a glance at his brother. “I saddled you with my burdens, because I could not carry them.”
Zamir stepped closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with the older brother he had always admired and adored in equal measure. “I do not consider myself saddled so much as blessed by the duty,” Zamir assured Ra’if. “And I would return the duty to you at your request.”
Ra’if arched a brow, the offer not one he could trivially dismiss. But he thought of Melinda, and he shook his head slowly. “That dream is no longer mine. There was a time in my life when I thought being ruler of this great land was my only purpose. But not now. Besides,” his smile flowed with genuine warmth. “You are far more suited to it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Ra’if shook his head. “I thank you for the offer. But right now, I want only to think of this day; my duty right here and now.”
“You are to marry,” Zamir said with a decisive nod.
“And you are to stand by my side.”
“I’ll always be by your side.”
“As I will be by yours.” Ra’if grinned. “Shall we?”
A wedding in Dashan was a far cry from the traditional western wedding. But a royal wedding? It was something else altogether. The banquet hall of the palace had been converted into a floral tribute. Every pillar – usually pure gold and marble – was wrapped in ornate arrangements of white desert flowers. They clung to the posts, forming fragrant pillars that met at the ceiling in long, swinging ropes. The altar at the front was gold, carved with the details of the royal family’s past.
He entered the hall and immediately his heart began to thud against his ribs.
He saw his bride for the first time in two days and every single cell of his body began to vibrate. She was dressed in a gown befitting a Dashani princess. Her honey coloured hair was arranged in an ornate style, and a jewelled crown sat perfectly on her head. It boasted one of the streaked glass baubles at its centre, but diamonds radiated from the middle sparkling in a way that, on a less beautiful woman, might have been distracting.
But Ra’if barely noticed the jewellery, nor the dress.
He saw only Melinda. As she’d been the first night he’d met her; as she would always be to him. His love, his life, his other half.
As he approached, she smiled at him, and there was no anxiety there. Only joy. Rightness and delight perforated his being.
He shone from the inside out.
At her side, he finally realised that she was not alone. Jordan stood there, his face earnest, his eyes showing some of the doubts that Ra’if might have expected Melinda to be feeling.
It softened Ra’if and he ignored protocol, crouching down to the boy who would become his stepson. “Are you okay?”
Jordan nodded, and cleared his throat.
Ra’if frowned. It was hot in Dashan. Far warmer than Jordan would have been used to. “Do you need water?”
“Dad gave me some before,” Jordan whispered, looking over his shoulder. Ra’if followed his gaze until his eyes landed on the robust figure of Brent. He had changed significantly in the nine months they’d known one another. His flesh had filled out, his skin had a healthy tan, and his hair had thickened up. Thanks to a world-class cosmetic dentist, it was hard to see that he’d ever been so close to death and self-destruction. Ra’if smiled at the man, then squeezed Jordan’s shoulder and stood.
Melinda’s eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she murmured, and he wished, more than anything, that the damned ceremony was over and he could officially claim her as his wife. He had never wanted anything more than to tie himself to her.
But the ceremony was long. It seemed to drag, and drag, until finally, their union was pronounced. Hours later, during the less formal celebrations, Ra’if stood. He was in the centre of the banquet table, his father to his right and Melinda to his left. The crowd was instantly silent.
“Today I have married, but I lost my heart a year ago, when I first met Melinda Higgins. I no longer thought I had one left to lose,” he said with a small shake of his head. “But Melinda brought me back to life in every way. You are my hope and wishes, and a dream I never dared hope for.” He smiled down at her, then shifted his focus to Jordan. “Jordan, I am not your father, but you are as much as my son as any child of my flesh.” He spoke as though only talking to Jordan. “I did not hear you speak your first word. I did not see you take your first step. But I will be with you, watching you, supporting you, loving you, for every step you take from now on. We are a family.” He looked into the crowd, and found Brent’s eyes, so like Jordan’s. He stared into them. “We are family, and we support one another.”
He expelled a slow breath and then reached down for Melinda’s hand. He squeezed it. “Today, I am the luckiest man alive. Thank you all for witnessing it. And for believing in the strength of dreams – even the impossible ones.”
THE END
Telling Ra’if’s story has been a real journey of love for me. I received so many requests to hear about him after he was mentioned as a side character in last year’s bestselling THE SHEIKH’S CONVENIENT MISTRESS. Following is an excerpt of that book.
I adore being an independent author. As an indie, reviews are an incredibly powerful way to make sure my books are seen by romance readers, just like you. Please take a minute to review or rate THE SHEIKH’S CHRISTMAS WISH now that you’re done reading.
THE SHEIKH’S CONVENIENT MISTRESS
Clare Connelly