Sheikh's Pregnant Cinderella

Not so glad when several gasps echoed through the room and his forbidding expression tightened even further.

‘I have made my decision. You are my choice. So, do you have any other objections?’ he drawled.

Niesha was stunned by his question. Did that mean he would listen if she objected? What further objection could she voice other than telling the King of Khalia that he was utterly, stark raving crazy? The mere thought of doing such a thing made the blood drain from her head.

‘By your silence, I assume you do not.’

‘Please, you have to reconsider,’ was all she could manage.

‘This discussion is over,’ he declared. ‘But, rest assured, you will be adequately compensated for your role.’

He turned away.

Niesha knew she shouldn’t trust the tiny burst of relief that spiked through her after being released from the force field of his stare. Her emotions had been on the edge of severe agitation ever since she’d walked in to find Amira and that towering barbarian of a man climbing out of the window.

She’d lost precious minutes frozen in place, unable to believe her eyes. After she’d screamed and sounded the alarm, she was sure she’d been incoherent in the first few minutes. Guilt surged anew beneath her skin.

She should’ve done more to stop them from leaving. Or raised the alarm quicker, as Zufar had said.

This was her punishment for not acting swiftly enough. If she had, this...insanity wouldn’t be happening.

Because...marriage? To him?

Sweet heaven, she couldn’t do it.

She took a faltering step closer to where he stood issuing clipped instructions. ‘Your Highness, please, can we talk about it?’ she ventured.

‘We don’t have time for a discussion,’ he stated. His voice was soft and even, but she wasn’t fooled. He was seething. ‘This is an emergency requiring an interim solution. Any long-term resolutions will be thrashed out later, including whatever concerns you might have.’ He went back to issuing instructions.

Heads bobbed up and down, unlike her shaking head and her quivering body, everyone poised to move the moment he finished speaking.

Moments later, firm hands reached for her, fingers tugging insistently at her clothes. She was going to be undressed in front of him? A bolt of rebellion fired through her, and she pushed the attendants away. ‘No!’

Everyone in the room froze.

‘No?’ Halimah whispered in horror. ‘You’re saying no to your King?’

A row of shocked eyes stared back at her, one in particular lasering her in place. She realised Zufar also awaited her answer. And the expression on his face was telling her everything she needed to know. There would be hell to pay if she didn’t obey him. She was the one who had let Amira get away. She was the one who hadn’t sounded the alarm in time. When she’d eventually done so, she’d been hysterical and inadvertently alerted the whole palace that the bride-to-be had fled.

She might not have aided his fiancée, but Amira’s disappearance might have succeeded partly because of her.

Sheikh Zufar slowly retraced his steps until he towered over her. ‘I too am waiting for an answer,’ he breathed.

Niesha swallowed, accepting in that moment that she had very little choice. She’d helped cause this state of chaos. It was up to her to fix it.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I...I mean yes,’ she amended hurriedly when his face turned to stone. ‘I will be your interim...your stand-in bride,’ she whispered, her mouth bone-dry.

Niesha wasn’t sure why her gaze darted to the window just then.

Sheikh Zufar followed her gaze, and, unbelievably, his face hardened even more.

‘If you’re thinking of going the same way as my previous bride-to-be, think again. Halimah and her companions will stay with you. They will help you to dress. You will not be left alone until you are by my side at the altar in one hour. Is that understood?’

Her world spinning ever faster on its axis, Niesha barely managed a nod of agreement.

It must’ve sufficed because he and his aides exited the room, Sheikh Zufar striding with the regal, animalistic grace infused in his bones since conception. There were sources that said Zufar al Khalia carried the essence of life itself with him when he moved in and out of a room.

The truth of it hit her hard as her breath was expelled in a mighty rush.

At the outer door, he paused, slashing her with golden eyes once more. ‘There will be guards placed outside the doors and along every path you take today. Just to ensure that you make it from this room to the wedding ceremony without impediment.’

Niesha wanted to laugh, but she was absolutely certain that she would end up sobbing. And even she couldn’t attend her wedding ceremony in tears.

Her wedding ceremony!

How on earth was this happening?

She had no time to dwell on it as the women sprang into action, tugging her to the centre of the room before proceeding to disrobe her. Minutes later, she found herself immersed in the rose-scented bath she had drawn for Amira only an hour or so ago.

The water was still warm, luxury gels and shampoos uncovered and ready to be used for the pre-wedding pampering the bride-to-be deserved.

The bride-to-be. Her.

Niesha closed her mind to the whispers swirling around her. Her emotional tank was dangerously close to full capacity for further distress. She was fairly sure Halimah and the women were speculating wildly about her. A lowly servant without a past attracted either awkward conversation or derogatory comments, no matter one’s age.

Over the years, Niesha had learned to harden herself against the pitying and sometimes callous comments, but somehow the barbs always found their way to her heart. It was why she’d stopped attempting to make friends with her colleagues.

Right now, she was rawer than she’d ever felt in her life. It was almost a relief to sink into the water and let the numbness overtake her. To ignore the awkward silences and the intense loneliness drowning her and pretend this wasn’t happening.

She barely felt the hands washing her body or the fingers weaving through her hair as she was cleansed from head to toe. Somewhere in the dark tunnel of despair, she realised she was still shaking, that she couldn’t stop trembling even after she was bundled into a thick, luxurious robe and seated at the bridal make-up station. She stared unseeing into the middle distance as her make-up was applied and her hair dried and fussed with.

It was as they nudged her towards the wedding gown that Niesha finally woke up.

‘No...’ It was a feeble attempt, one a small, wounded animal seeking a last pass for mercy would make.

Of course, there was no reprieve.

‘Yes,’ Halimah insisted. ‘For whatever reason the cosmos sees fit, you have been chosen for this role. You will not dishonour our King by disobeying, and I will not have my head on the block because of you. Now lift up your arms so we can put this exquisite garment on you.’

Interim.

She was just an interim solution. A stand-in for today only.

Tomorrow, Zufar would go into the desert or wherever Amira had been spirited off to and bring her back.

This was temporary.

Remember this.