Epilogue
A firework went off somewhere over Dubai while I was trying to decide whether my belly had shifted the entire front of my dress to the left.
I froze, still touching my hip.
The mirror gave me no useful answer.
The deep emerald gown had been fitted three days ago, but the silk sat differently tonight, curving over my stomach before falling cleanly toward the floor. There was no disguising the pregnancy now, and I had no interest in trying.
A firm movement pressed beneath my palm.
I waited until it passed, then reached for the earrings beside the mirror.
Another distant pop sounded beyond the glass, followed by a brief wash of color against the windows.
Someone in Dubai had clearly decided midnight was more of a suggestion.
My wedding and engagement rings flashed under the lights as I fastened the first earring. Five months ago, that diamond had seemed almost absurd on my finger.
Now the sight of both rings together still made me smile.
I tucked one strawberry-blonde wave behind my ear and reached for the second earring.
The bedroom door opened behind me.
I met Tariq’s eyes in the mirror.
He wore formal black eveningwear, immaculate from collar to shoes, his dark hair controlled, his beard precise. He’d wrapped up whatever final combination of business and royal obligations had occupied him for the last half hour.
He looked me over slowly, from my hair to the emerald silk stretched over my belly.
Heat tightened low between my thighs.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m married to you. I’m allowed to stare at my wife.”
“That’s not how marriage works.”
“It’s worked very well for me so far.”
I laughed and finally got the second earring through.
Tariq crossed the room and came up behind me. His arm settled around my waist, his hand spreading over the curve of my stomach as he bent to kiss the side of my neck.
My breath caught.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured.
I turned in his arms.
“You look acceptable, but I’m trying not to inflate your ego before we go downstairs.”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re wasting your effort.”
“On your ego?”
“On trying not to inflate it.”
I laughed.
Tariq kissed me before I could answer.
It wasn’t a polite kiss meant for a woman whose lipstick had already been applied. His fingers tightened at my waist, and the kiss lingered until I was braced against his chest and had absolutely no concern left for cosmetics.
When he finally lifted his head, I checked myself in the mirror.
“You’d better hope my lipstick survived that.”
“It did, and if it didn’t, you can repair it.”
“You’re very relaxed about creating work for other people.”
“I employ people.”
“That might be the most Tariq answer you’ve ever given me.”
A gray shape streaked through the open doorway.
Goblin skidded to a stop beside my hem.
“Goblin, don’t you dare.”
She tipped her face up at me.
Her coat was sleek now, her small body filled out enough that nobody would mistake her for the dusty little creature I’d found hiding beneath hotel landscaping. She wore no expression of gratitude for the veterinary care, food, toys, expensive furniture, or general royal lifestyle she’d acquired.
Goblin rubbed herself enthusiastically against the emerald silk.
I stared down.
She did it again.
“Apparently that was too much to ask.”
Tariq glanced at the pale hairs now clinging to my dress.
“I believe she likes it.”
“She has terrible timing.”
“She has terrible manners.”
Goblin purred.
I bent carefully and picked her up.
She immediately settled against my chest as if she hadn’t just assaulted formalwear.
“You’re very lucky you’re cute.”
Tariq touched one finger to a gray hair on my skirt.
“You’ve said the same thing to me.”
“That’s absolutely untrue.”
“It isn’t, and you know it.”
“I’ve never called you cute.”
“Then perhaps your wording was less innocent.”
Heat crept into my cheeks.
“That conversation was private.”
“We’re in our bedroom, Chrissy.”
“I know where we are.”
His eyes darkened.
I hugged Goblin more securely before I did something irresponsible with my husband while wearing a dress that required professional assistance to fasten.
Farah appeared at the doorway.
“Ms. Campbell—”
She stopped.
Then the smallest smile touched her face.
“Your Highness.”
I narrowed my eyes at Tariq.
He was far too pleased.
I’d been married to Tariq for months. Farah still occasionally caught herself using the name she’d met me with, and I secretly hoped she never lost the habit entirely.
“The fireworks are becoming more frequent,” Farah said. “I’ve prepared the quieter room for Goblin and asked the staff to keep the curtains closed once the main display begins.”
“Thank you, Farah. I appreciate it.”
I kissed the top of Goblin’s head.
“You hear that? You’ve got private accommodations for New Year’s Eve.”
Goblin shoved her nose beneath my chin.
“She already lives better than I did in Omaha.”
“That isn’t a particularly difficult standard to exceed, based on what you’ve told me.”
“You have never lived in Omaha.”
“No, but I’ve heard enough about the expired yogurt to form an opinion.”
Farah stopped smiling.
I handed Goblin over.
“Have a good New Year, tiny criminal.”
Goblin reached one paw toward my hair as Farah carried her away.
Tariq watched them leave.
“At some point, that cat is going to own the entire residence.”
“She already thinks she does.”
My phone rang on the dressing table.
I glanced at the screen.
It was Elias.
“I need to take this. It’s Elias.”
Tariq stepped back immediately.
I answered.
“Hi, Elias.”
“Good evening, Chrissy. I have one question before the countdown crowds increase.”
“What’s happening?”
“The smaller lounge near the east side has become much busier than expected. Guests who don’t want the main celebration volume are settling there instead. We had planned to reduce service shortly before midnight.”
I pictured the space.
We’d deliberately kept it outside the loudest part of the New Year’s Eve programming, but nobody had expected quite so many people to choose it.
“Are they staying because it’s quieter?”
“That appears to be the reason.”
“Then I’d keep full service running through midnight and scale it down afterward based on actual demand instead of the original schedule. Don’t move any of the entertainment in there, either.”
“We weren’t planning to.”
“Perfect. If people found the quiet room because they want quiet, let it stay quiet.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks, Elias. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
“You too. Happy New Year.”
I ended the call.
Tariq was waiting beside me.
He held out his hand.
“Are you ready to go downstairs?”
I put mine in it.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
The hotel barely resembled the place where I’d given my first presentation months earlier.
The Al-Hadid Grand wasn’t doing restrained tonight.
Light swept across the enormous lobby in shifting patterns.
Music carried from the main celebration spaces, while people drifted between restaurants, lounges, terraces, and the ballroom instead of collecting in one formal room.
Staff passed with champagne, sparkling water, and trays of food.
Somewhere above us, another premature firework burst beyond the glass.
Nobody was sitting politely waiting for a speech.
For that alone, I was grateful.
I’d already survived one major gala in this hotel.
I didn’t need a sequel.
Tariq and I made it halfway across the lobby before someone stopped him.
Then someone called my name.
“Chrissy.”
A woman from the brand team approached with two colleagues I recognized from a London project.
“We tried the revised family-arrival sequence this month,” she said. “The guest response is already stronger.”
“You moved quickly.”
“We had the assets ready.”
One of the London team members said, “You’re going to have opinions about what we did with the check-in language.”
“I’m sure I will. Send it to me next week.”
“Not tonight?”
“Absolutely not tonight. I’m officially refusing to open another deck before January.”
“That’s growth.”
“It really is.”
We talked for another minute before they left.
Across the lobby, Tariq was surrounded by several people in eveningwear. He met my eyes over one man’s shoulder.
He didn’t come rescue me.
He didn’t need to.
I walked toward the quieter side of the event instead, checking the crowd flow as I went.
The lounge Elias had called about was visible down the corridor.
People sat in small groups with drinks, talking without having to shout over music. A server passed between them with a tray.
I caught Elias near the entrance.
“Keep it exactly like this. I think we got this one right.”
“We’ll keep it running through midnight.”
“Then I’m officially off duty for the year.”
“Happy New Year, Chrissy. Go enjoy it.”
“I intend to. Happy New Year, Elias.”
I turned.
Tariq was walking toward me.
People flowed around him without his needing to ask them to.
Marriage hadn’t made him less devastating in black.
He came close enough that his fingers brushed mine.
“Are you finished for the night?”
“Yes, and technically, I’m done for the entire year.”
“That sounds dangerously ambitious.”
“There are only about twenty minutes left. I think I can maintain the boundary.”
“I have confidence in you.”
“That means a great deal.”
He glanced briefly at the curve of my stomach.
Then he bent his head closer to mine.
“Come upstairs with me.”
“That invitation sounds suspicious when your wife already lives upstairs.”
“It’s extremely convenient.”
I smiled.
“We could stay for the countdown, you know.”
“We could, but I’ve spent enough of tonight sharing you with everyone else.”
Heat slid slowly through me.
“That’s a very effective argument.”
“I know.”
He guided me with a touch at my back.
It was perfectly respectable.
The look he gave me wasn’t.
I leaned closer.
“You do realize you’re the reason I’m pregnant.”
His fingers tightened.
“Chrissy, you know what saying that does to me.”
“Of course I do. That’s why I said it.”
He bent close to my ear.
“I still remember you telling me you hoped it would take.”
My face heated.
The lobby suddenly felt several degrees warmer.
I tipped my face up to him.
“And now we know it did.”
Tariq glanced at my lips.
“We certainly do.”
“I’m done working, and I’ve used up all my charm for the lobby.”
“You’ve been charming?”
I hit his arm.
He laughed and linked his fingers with mine.
“Come home with me.”
We left the party to everyone else.
By the time the private elevator opened upstairs, fireworks were beginning in earnest.
Not the full midnight display yet, but enough color flashed beyond the windows to wash the sitting room glass blue, red, and gold in quick succession.
I kicked off my heels near the sitting room.
Tariq glanced down at them.
“Leave them. Someone can deal with them later.”
“That was the plan.”
We crossed toward the wall of windows together.
Dubai glittered below us, but tonight the lights kept changing as bursts of color opened over different parts of the city.
The residence was quiet behind us.
Goblin was safely elsewhere with Farah and the staff. The hotel celebration continued several floors below. For once, no phone rang.
Tariq came behind me.
His arms circled my waist, then he cupped my belly.
The baby shifted beneath his touch.
He went still.
I laid my fingers over his hand.
Another movement came a moment later.
He kissed my temple.
“I felt that.”
I stayed where I was and leaned back against his chest.
The first distant countdown began somewhere below us.
Ten.
Another group joined it.
Nine.
I turned in Tariq’s arms.
Eight.
He kept his hand on my stomach.
Seven.
I slid an arm around the back of his neck.
Six.
The diamond on my finger caught a burst of white light.
Five.
Tariq watched me instead of the fireworks.
Four.
I lifted my face to his.
Three.
He smiled.
Two.
I pulled him closer.
One.
The sky exploded.
Light filled the windows as fireworks burst over Dubai in every direction.
Tariq kissed me.
I kissed him back with both arms around his neck, my belly between us and his touch warm against the curve of it.
When we finally came apart, another series of fireworks flashed across his face.
“Happy New Year, wife.”
“Happy New Year, husband.”
He bent toward me again.
I caught his lapels and pulled him into another kiss.
***