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An unaccustomed doubt crossed his features. He stared at her, and forced himself to continue, despite the worry that his feelings might not find their echo. “Melinda, fate brought me to you. You said that I saved your life, but the truth is, you have saved mine. I want you to marry me not because I think I deserve you and Jordan, but because I will spend my whole life trying to. I ask you to marry me with only hope, and a heart that is forever yours.”
Melinda stared at him for a long moment, and then shook her head slowly. “How can you even ask me this?” She said softly.
And for a moment, Ra’if felt his heart drop right to his feet. He felt loss and fear spike inside of him, like sharp waves of pain he had thought himself to be inured from. “I …”
She lifted up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his briefly. “I mean, how can you ask a question when the answer is such a foregone conclusion?” She spoke softly and slowly, letting each word sink in. “In my heart, we’re already married.”
His smile was one of glittering relief. “In mine too.” He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his broad chest. “Still, it does not hurt to make it official?”
“No,” she laughed, smiling. “It doesn’t.”
“And the sooner the better. You are my family.”
“And you are ours.” She held a hand out behind his back, reaching for Jordan. He came running to them, his face red, his eyes suspiciously moist. He slammed into their sides, and they both put a hand around his back.
It was a moment of perfection … and a mark of their future. Fate had brought two people together, and nothing, no one, could ever undo the bonds of their love; they had been forged from iron and optimism.
EPILOGUE
“You are nervous?” Zamir’s smile spread from ear to ear, his handsome face the epitome of amusement.
Ra’if arched a brow at his brother. “Like you weren’t, on your wedding day?”
“I was marrying in front of at least ten thousand people,” he murmured.
Ra’if pulled the curtain back a little, his eyes scanning the crowds that had formed beyond the palace gates. It had been growing steadily all day, so that now there were people as far as the eye could see. “I cannot believe there are fewer than that.”
“The prodigal son returns,” Zamir teased, slapping his brother good-naturedly on the shoulder. “This day has certainly attracted a phenomenal amount of interest.”
“Yes. It has been … surprising.”
“Really? I cannot understand why. These are your people, brother. For a long time, you were their Sheikh. They hold great love in their hearts for you.”
Ra’if grunted.
“And you? Does it feel strange to be here? Does it make you wish this was your home again?”
“No,” he spoke quietly. “Melinda and I live in England.” A frown furrowed his brow. “There are things I will always miss about our desert, but my heart is no longer here.” When he spoke next, the words resonated with earnest enquiry. “How is she?”
“Coping like she was born to be a princess. Olivia is impressed by her.”
“I believe it’s mutual.”
“It certainly seemed mutual when I found them huddled over donuts for breakfast.”
Ra’if shook his head, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
“Why are you nervous?” Zamir pushed after a moment. “You can’t be in any doubt about her feelings for you?”
“No,” Ra’if was quick to dismiss it. “Not for a moment.”
“Well, then?”
Ra’if ran a hand over the delicate golden cuffs that adorned the ceremonial robes, straightening them unnecessarily. “Do you ever feel that life has been … better than you deserve?”
A muscle jerked at the base of Zamir’s jaw. “Yes.” A simple answer. The br
others’ eyes locked and understanding flooded the room.
