Sheikh's Florist Bride (Contemporary Romance) Read online

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  The Sheikh’s Florist Bride

  By: Amanda Horton

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  The Sheikh’s Florist Bride

  Lucy and Richard entered the dinner party as the ideal couple; well dressed, arms linked together, broad smiles fixed on their polished faces. They sat down at opposite ends of the dining table, while the other guests whispered amongst themselves regarding the allure of the interesting couple.

  Lucy was seated next to a retired judge, who spoke in between mouthfuls of lobster about his newfound love of golf. While she was trying to concentrate on what he was telling her, Lucy couldn’t help but catch glimpses of Richard from the other end of the table. He was watching her like a hawk, as if he were a strict parent making sure his child was well behaved.

  “Its lovely,” Lucy commented later that evening, after the judge asked her how her chocolate fondant tasted.

  “The rest of the meal is not quite up to its adequacy. They must have employed a new chef. Did I tell you about the last dinner here? Well, the menu was quite unique…”

  As the judge rambled on about the details of his previous dinner party experiences, Lucy tried her best to look engaged. She was not much of an actress however, and once again, she glanced upwards at the expression on her husband’s face. He was fully emerged in a conversation with an attractive woman.

  “How long have you been married?” the judge asked her.

  “Two years,” she said distractedly.

  The judge sipped his wine, clearly unimpressed with Lucy’s lack of communication. When she noticed this, she tried to restart a conversation with him but he had already turned and spoke to the other person he was sitting beside.

  Amongst the crowd of chattering aristocrats, Lucy finished her dessert in silence. She was relieved when the coffees were served up in the large living room library. This was an impressive area filled with stone statues and shelves of thousands of books as high as the ceiling, where the guests were found mingling, most of them seated on a chaise longue or a leather armchair. However some of the guests were just standing, holding their drinks and admiring the decor.

  Long since having given up on conversing with the judge, Lucy was forced back to the present when a tall striking woman began speaking to her, declaring that she had met Richard at several dinner parties. Lucy soon recognized her as the woman her husband was conversing with at the dinner table.

  “And what do you do?” she asked.

  “I run a shop selling Japanese Ikebana flowers,” Lucy replied.

  The woman’s eyes widened, “I was not aware Richard was married to a florist. How very unusual!”

  “How so?” asked Lucy out of genuine curiosity.

  “Well his last wife was a pathologist,” she said, ”and before that there was that politician. He must have told you?”

  “He did,” replied Lucy, “So are you confused why his current wife isn’t a high flyer? Perhaps he’s had enough of those given he divorced them all.”

  “Actually Sheryl divorced him,” she forced a laugh. “Do excuse me, I have other guests to introduce myself to.”

  Lucy watched her glide away to be welcomed into another huddle of guests who were clearly impressed by her mesmerizing beauty. Lucy meanwhile, retired into herself, feeling inadequate and out of place. She had always been proud to own her Ikebana shop and it came as quite a shock that this woman found it something to sneer at.

  After Richard had spent a good hour chatting with everyone there, he decided he had had enough for the evening. He called a taxi and bid his farewells, kissing several ladies cheeks while Lucy waited by the door with her arms folded.

  The drive home was almost silent, with Richard tapping his fingers on his knee while staring out of the window. Lucy knew it was wrong, and perhaps even cruel to wish that Richard hadn’t had such a successful evening, but she hated this high and mighty attitude of his friends. She couldn’t stand even the thought of another dinner party.

  When they finally got home, Lucy brought two glasses of water upstairs to find that Richard was already in bed, his back turned to her. She crawled in next to him.

  “Richard?”

  “You are insufferable Lucy.”

  After seeing Richard curled beneath the blankets, Lucy momentarily forgot about the dinner party guests and regretted that she had been so stubborn.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No you’re not,” he pulled the covers off himself and turned to face Lucy, “You are many things but you are not sorry.”

  “I am, but I can’t help talking like that at the time. They hate me, all your friends-“

  “That’s because you show an appalling side of yourself,” said Richard, “You just have no idea how to interact with people.”

  “Your people,” she added.

  “They all think I married a failure of a woman. They think you’re a joke.”

  “And do you agree with them?”

  Richard stared at her and raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘well obviously.’ But seeing Lucy’s expression he simply turned the light off and told her to go to sleep.

  ***

  The next morning, Lucy was perched on the wall of the garden fountain, dipping her feet in and out of the ice cool water. She was sitting in one of her favorite spots, which overlooked the cornfields and forest.

  The garden was more of a maze, which surrounded itself all around the mansion. It was one of the most beautiful aspects of living here. Rose bushes, gigantic lilies and rhododendrons enlivened the atmosphere with bursts of fragrance and bold colors. Lucy understood how blessed she was that this was her home, and it was all down to Richard. Though her appreciation told her to shut up and be grateful, there was always a repressed feeling that she had made a mistake. A feeling she often ignored, or numbed with a bottle of wine.

  Lucy pulled herself up and began walking on the grass, sandals loosely held in her hand. She contemplated what her life would be like without Richard.

  It seemed superficial, almost spiteful, to consider someone because of their fortune. Yet this was how he presented himself, a man who could offer her the world. She rejected his offer the first few times. Partly due to him using his wealth as a means of seduction, partly because of his pushy nature. But there was something she found hypnotic about his charm, at least initially. The fact that Richard always appeared attractive and smart with unnaturally smooth skin and golden hair was never part of the appeal.

  Lucy was forced out of her thoughts when Richard strode into the garden and gave her a wry smile. The smile he usually gave to her when she had done something wrong or had embarrassed herself in front of his friends.

  “Ali is coming over in a minute, we’re going to see his charity tennis match.”

  Ali. In the years they had been married, Lucy had never met him, but knew him to be a good friend of Richards. Although she didn’t watch sports, she understood Ali to be a famous tennis player.

  “Charity tennis match?” she asked.

  “Yes. He’s invited us. Good seats, front row
. I told you that.”

  “Oh,” said Lucy, quite sure he didn’t. “I’ll just stay here.”

  “You will join us. Ali is moving to our area soon so you have to at least pretend to be likeable.”

  Before Lucy could object, Richard had walked back in to the house. Lucy followed him like a sheep.

  In the living room, they sat down next to each other and waited for the doorbell to ring.

  “Lucy stand up,” whispered Richard when the doorbell rang and the butler let Ali in to the room. The amount of dread Lucy had expected to feel was met with a strange curiosity at the sight of Ali.

  Usually when any acquaintance of Richards came her way, Lucy would find them arrogant, well dressed and glaring at her with a look of disapproval. But it was difficult to believe Ali was one of these. He wore a denim jacket, white t-shirt and dark jeans. The jacket was faded in color and looked almost scruffy, like it had been worn for many years. Ali appeared to be mixed race, he had dark skin, black hair and bright green eyes. When Richard introduced her to Ali, he greeted her with a welcoming smile.

  “Hello Ali, good to finally meet you.” Lucy was clinging to the possibility that the men had not noticed her shoulders stiffen or her eyes brighten.

  “And you Lucy,” he replied in an accent Lucy couldn’t place. "Heard loads about you."

  “I was telling Lucy you are moving to the area,” said Richard.

  “Yeah. Well, just outside it. It’s great to be in the countryside and close to London at the same time.”

  It surprised Lucy how softly spoken he was and how casually he addressed Richard.

  “So…you play tennis.” Lucy realized her lame attempt at conversation even before Richard gave a muffled, pitiful laugh.

  “He plays a lot of tennis Lucy,” Richard looked to Ali with an expression that said ‘excuse my wife’s stupidity’, but Ali just continued to gaze at her with an endearing fascination.

  “Most days yeah.”

  Something over Lucy’s shoulder caught Ali’s eye and she turned around to find him peering at an Ikebana flower arrangement she had created. She was about to explain to Ali that she had made it herself, but remembered how Richard hated it when she talked about the Ikebana. Her passion for the art sometimes caused her to waffle on more than was socially acceptable, by Richard’s standards at least. But to her surprise, Ali enquired about it first.

  “I haven’t seen Ikebana arrangements in a while,” he said, “not since I was in Japan last year.”

  “Really?” Lucy beamed, “I loved it there. That’s where I learnt to create it.”

  “You created this?”

  “She owns an Ikebana shop,” said Richard with a flat voice.

  Ali was clearly interested in this and expressed that he would like to visit Lucy’s shop and see some of her other creations. It was extremely rare for any of Richard’s friends to show such an interest in her Ikebana plants.

  Later that afternoon, Lucy and Richard were sitting in the middle of the front row of the tennis courts, which was a perfect spot for them to watch Ali.

  Richard still hadn’t communicated with Lucy affectionately since the disastrous dinner party, but she had hopes that since she had spoken so successfully with Ali, he might forgive her.

  While she watched him play, her chain of thought began to alter. The tennis player swiftly grabbed her attention.

  Ali was light on his feet, quick and agile. He possessed impressive strength which was shown whenever he hit the ball, whacking it to the opposite side of the court in such a fast, unpredictable way that the opposing player often darted to the wrong side. Due to his catlike reflexes, he took the lead in the game. At an interval break, Ali was sweating so much that he changed his t shirt on the court, and seemed oblivious to the wave of female cheers and wolf whistles at the exposure of his perfectly toned bronze skin.

  Lucy suddenly felt self conscious, as if somehow Richard could read her mind and see her inappropriate admiration for the tennis star. Aware that she was probably being completely paranoid, she pretended to look elsewhere in the court and made comments about the audience, the weather and even the other tennis player. Don’t overdo it, she told herself when Richard clearly seemed irritated.

  “Are you going to talk this much for the rest of the game?” he smirked. “Is it not enough that Ali already thinks you are a complete air head?”

  “What?” Lucy was genuinely baffled. “What did I do wrong this time?”

  “Lets not talk here,” Richard barked back.

  “Are you serious?” she said, ignoring Richard’s comment, “this the first time one of your friends doesn’t seem to think I’m a worthless piece of shit”

  “Stop being so dramatic. Besides, Ali is polite to every sod he meets. That’s how he is.”

  An abrupt cheer from the crowd interrupted Lucy’s frustration at her husband. Ali had won the match. Lucy clapped loudly upon seeing this, while Richard merely managed a slight grin. Lucy noticed his large hands as he waved to the audience, his welcoming smile and the delight in his eyes before he jogged off the court.

  ***

  The next evening, Lucy was luxuriating in solitude after a long days work at the shop. Richard had gone out to meet some business friends of his for a few brandies, and Lucy was thankful to have the house to her self. She curled herself up on the sofa with a generous size glass of gin and tonic, flicking through channels of the television, hoping there would be something comforting to watch.

  Lucy ignored the phone when it rang, cursing the thought that it was most likely one of Richard’s snobbish friends or even worse, his mother. She let the call go through to voicemail, but sat up to listen carefully when she recognized the voice of the caller.

  “Hi Richard its Ali. Thanks for coming to the game last night. It was good to finally meet Lucy.”

  Lucy suddenly became very aware of her the raciness of her heartbeat. Should I answer the phone?

  “I’ll pop by sometime soon. See you both later.”

  The voicemail machine clicked off. Lucy continued to drink her gin and tonic, willing herself to get to a more confident state. She felt a stirring of pleasure, a warmth at the memory of his soft voice.

  She would call him back, she decided after some hesitation. Lucy only felt this confident after she had been drinking in large volumes, but was fairly sure that she was not yet drunk enough to make a complete idiot of herself.

  She picked up the phone and dialed the last number that rang. The excitement and nervousness touched every cell in her body.

  “Hello?” Ali answered almost immediately.

  “Hi Ali, its Lucy. You just left a message for Richard.”

  “Oh,” Ali sounded puzzled, “Yeah I did. How you doing?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. Richard’s away tonight. I just wanted to say congratulations on the match. I…we both really enjoyed it.”

  “Thanks Lucy, and thanks for coming. I know you’re both busy people.”

  In between Ali’s sentences, there was a trace of chuckling and an air of friendliness, which - in her tipsy state - Lucy found irresistible.

  “I’m not busy right now and neither is Richard. He’s out drinking with his friends and I’m drinking alone.”

  “Of course you are,” it sounded like he was smiling, “anyway why the hell not? I wish I was.”

  Lucy giggled a little too loudly, “So why aren’t you?”

  “I’m out of wine. Finished the last bottle yesterday didn’t I.”

  “If you do want to pop over, like you said,” Lucy hoped the anxiety wasn’t detectable in her voice, “You could come over tonight for a few?”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “Richard will be glad to see you when he gets back,” she added hastily, “And then we can all celebrate your tennis success. Also I’ll show you some of my Ikebana creations, if you still want to see…”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Thank fuck for that, thought Lucy, wondering ho
w she would ever be able to look him in the eye again if he said no.

  “Just give me twenty minutes or something.”

  “Sure take your time. See you soon.”

  It took all of five minutes for Lucy to jump up and clear away the empty bowls and glasses from the coffee table, push the boxes of DVD’s under the sofa and dim the lights. She considered giving the room a hoover but decided that the mood lighting would disguise the crumbs and dust well enough. She poured herself another glass of gin, but finding that she had drank the entire tonic, ended up drinking it straight. Wait until Ali gets here, she told herself as her head began to feel like it was pleasurably swimming in thick syrup.

  She hurriedly put on a little blusher and another layer of lipstick, but there was nothing she could do about her eyes that looked small and puffy now after all the alcohol she had consumed.

  By the time Ali’s car had pulled up in the drive, Lucy had made the house somewhat presentable. It was a beautiful mansion as it was, so it did not need much tending to.

  Ali appeared at the door dressed in his usual outfit and denim jacket. Studying his appearance, Lucy was fascinated at how himself and Richard ever became friends. Usually Richard was so finicky about people.

  “Come in,” said Lucy after he leaned in for a hug. She breathed in his scent and held him for a little too long.

  Lucy then guided him to the living area where several bottles were waiting for him. She gave him the choice of red or white wine, rum, whisky or gin. Ali opted for red wine.

  He sat next to Lucy on the sofa, their knees facing each other. They clinked glasses and smiled, simultaneously sipping their drinks. It was at this moment of their eyes meeting, where Ali seemed completely absorbed in her presence, that Lucy believed her feelings might actually be reciprocated. And how marvelous, she thought, that they had only met the day before. There was so much about him yet to discover.

  But Ali is polite to everyone, she told herself in Richard’s stern voice. She begged that she would stay sober enough to detect the difference between politeness and flirtation.