The Sheik's Arranged Marriage
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“We should talk about the marriage,” he said. “If we approach the situation logically, we should be able to find some common ground. Each getting what we want, that sort of thing.”
“All right.” Heidi glanced around, then pointed to a small bench tucked into a vine-covered alcove. “Although it’s going to be tricky to each get what we want when neither of us wants to be married.”
“We’re both reasonably intelligent adults. We’ll manage.”
She settled onto the bench. “I have to warn you, Jamal. I’m more than reasonably intelligent. Actually I get quite impatient when I have to deal with stupid people.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Not that I meant to imply you were stupid.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I’m sure you’re quite bright. For a man.”
He sat next to her. “Do you want to change the subject before you dig yourself a deep pit?”
She sighed. “Probably a good idea.” She wiggled on the stone bench, then turned to face him. “So, what do you want from our marriage?”
He thought for a moment. “I want to be friends.”
“Oh, that’s good. All right. Friends. What else?”
“We’ll have to have children, but I think we should wait. Get to know each other better.”
Heidi’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She cleared her throat several times. “Yes, that would be wise. Waiting, I mean. Children are something of a strain on a relationship. Or so I’ve heard.”
Whatever else might happen, she had the ability to make him laugh, Jamal thought in relief. Although he was careful not to let her see that he was amused. He knew she wouldn’t understand. Heidi was so innocent as to be an anachronism. But he didn’t mind that. When the time was right, he would be patient with her.
The thought of making love with her was intriguing, and he found himself caught up in wondering what she looked like without her dreadful clothes. From the little he saw of her body, she seemed to have all the right parts. Despite his reputation for being a ladies’ man, he didn’t insist on physical perfection in his women. He preferred enthusiasm and humor to a perfect pair of thighs.
“I want to keep working,” she told him. “I love what I do, and I’m only just getting started. You won’t get all Neanderthal on me and insist I keep our suite clean or anything, will you?”
“The palace has servants for that. You may do as you wish with your day. Although there will be some official functions that require your presence.”
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Don’t talk about that. It will make me more nervous than I already am.”
“You should know what to expect. Don’t worry. Fatima and Dora will help you.”
She nodded. “Yes, well, I’ll think about that another time. There is another matter.”
She paused just long enough to let him know she was embarrassed by whatever it was she was about to say.
“Go on,” he prompted.
“You won’t like it.”
“Say it anyway.”
“All right. It’s about your women. I would prefer you didn’t have any.”
He knew what she was getting at but he pretended ignorance. “Any what?”
“Women. Mistresses. Lovers. Whatever you want to call them. You have a reputation, Jamal. I won’t be made a fool of.”
“I see. You want exclusivity.”
Color flared on her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “I expect you to respect me and our vows.”
“What about my animal passions? Will you be able to satisfy them?”
“A-animal passions?” Her voice quivered. “I—I guess I can. Perhaps you could provide written instructions beforehand so I’ll know what to expect.”
He coughed to hide a laugh. “No problem. I’ll have my secretary type them up.”
“As we’ve already established, I’m very bright. I’m sure I can study them enough to be able to satisfy your…well…you know. And if the act doesn’t seem overly appealing to me, I’ll simply endure.”
Her words cut through him like a knife. His humor faded, as did his good mood and any hope that this marriage might be better than his last.
Without wanting to, he remembered his beautiful young wife standing naked in front of him, her mouth twisted in disgust as she stared at his arousal. “You’re an animal,” she’d said. “I don’t understand why I have to endure you touching me all the time. I hate it, and I’m not very fond of you.”
He pushed the memory away, but the feelings it evoked remained.
He rose to his feet. “I will not trouble you more than necessary,” he said through gritted teeth.
Heidi frowned. “Jamal, what’s wrong? What did I say?”
“Nothing but the truth. Come. Let us tell my father and grandmother the good news.”
“All right.”
Heidi still sounded troubled, but she trailed after him. He hurried, wanting to get the announcement over quickly. As soon as the congratulations were finished, Fatima would whisk Heidi into the harem where she would stay until their wedding day. They would not be allowed any time alone between now and then. The thought of not seeing her was a relief. If only he never had to see her again—ever.
Chapter Four
“I ’m going to hyperventilate,” Heidi announced as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the harem. She stared at her reflection and knew this wasn’t really happening.
Fatima paused in the act of smoothing out the creamy white robe that covered Heidi as effectively as a shroud. “Hyperventilate. Is that too much oxygen or not enough? I can never remember. One requires breathing into a paper bag, while the other means you should put your head between your legs.”
Dora sat on a chair, arranging the folds of the headpiece. “By the time we get it figured out, Heidi will have either passed out or healed.”
Heidi tried to smile at the joke, but she couldn’t. The sense of being trapped was too strong to escape, even for a minute. She was really and truly going through with this—she was about to marry a stranger.
She certainly looked the part, she thought with amazement, studying the person in the mirror. That woman was as much a stranger as Jamal. The white robe covered her from the top of her collarbone to the tips of her toes. In back, it fanned out like a bridal-gown train. Instead of being neatly contained in its usual tidy bun, her hair was long and loose, falling nearly to her waist. Fatima had lined her eyes with kohl and added color to her lips, which emphasized both features in a way that was oddly attractive, Heidi thought, but also unfamiliar. Then there was the matter of her hands and feet.
She lifted one hand and stared at the henna on her fingers and palms. The intricate patterns were traditional in an El Baharian wedding, as in many parts of the world. They marked her as a bride. For as long as the stain lingered on her skin, the bride was considered on her honeymoon. She would not be asked to participate in any household chores.
For Heidi the fading of the henna wasn’t going to make much difference in her day-to-day life. As a princess, she wouldn’t do any cooking or cleaning. But for regular women—the loss of the henna was a time of sadness. The magic of the honeymoon then faded to just a memory. Heidi actually managed a smile as she thought of the great lengths women would go to keep their henna from disappearing.
“You look lovely, child,” Fatima said, smiling at her. “How do you feel?”
“As if I’m entering history,” Heidi replied honestly.
She turned slightly so that she could catch sight of more of the wedding robe in the mirror. Intricately embroidered gold designs were scattered across the back of the garment, stretching from the hem of the train nearly to the small of her back. With each royal wedding, another picture was added. They represented something unique about each bride joining the Khan family.
“I know enough about the customs to understand the significance of the robe and the ceremony. I feel connected with the past.”
That much was true. Now if only she felt more connected with her husband. Since agreeing to marry him nearly two weeks before, she’d been living in the harem. She and Jamal hadn’t spent a single moment alone together. She’d spent her days working on her precious texts and taking riding lessons. She’d seen Jamal only twice, and both times had been at family dinners.
Dora rose and moved toward her, carrying the headpiece. The gold tiara-like crown anchored several yards of tulle. When Heidi approached her groom, every inch of her would be covered.
“I hate that robe,” Dora said cheerfully. “Not only did I have to rip out my stitches about fifteen dozen times, but I pricked myself even more.” She laughed. “So much for my innate sewing skills. Still, I think the design came out very well.”
Heidi glanced down at the new pattern. This was rested near her hip. It was an intricate rendering of the El Baharian medal of honor—the same medal that had been awarded to Edmond, Heidi’s grandfather, for all his help during the Second World War.
As the most recent bride in the family, Dora’d had the responsibility of sewing the next design on the wedding robe. She and Jamal had discussed several options before settling on the medal. Despite being the bride, Heidi hadn’t been allowed any say in the matter. She doubted Jamal could have picked a design that would please her more.
“It’s lovely,” Heidi said, trying not to think about her grandfather because she would cry and Lord knew what would happen to her makeup then.
Fatima read her mind. “Edmond would have been very proud of you this day,” she said. “He always wanted you to join the House of Khan.”
“I know.”
Dora took a step back and studied her. “You’re so lovely,” she said. “The perfect bride.”
“Thank you,” Heidi said with a sincerity she didn’t feel.
She wasn’t the perfect bride, she thought sadly. She was a fraud. She was marrying a man she didn’t know and didn’t love because she didn’t have the backbone to refuse the two people in the world she did love. It was a mess, and she felt like a fraud.
Heidi watched as her sister-in-law to-be fussed with the headpiece, then helped Fatima lower it in place. Dora was a confident, beautiful, content woman. She had an adoring husband, work that she loved, one healthy, happy baby and another on the way.
Heidi stole a glimpse at the slight rounding of Dora’s stomach. It was the only indication of her four-month pregnancy. So far no official announcement had been made, although Dora had whispered the happy news to her a couple of mornings before. Dora had the perfect life, Heidi thought, trying hard not to envy her. Would she and Jamal ever find that? She had her doubts.
It’s not that she disliked him—it was more that she wasn’t prepared to be married to anyone. Worse, she didn’t know him. If only they’d been able to spend more time together. If the few conversations they’d had were any indication, then she and Jamal had the potential to do as he’d requested and become friends. But so far there’d been no opportunity.
The main door of the harem swung open, and a young woman entered carrying a tray. Heidi smiled at Rihana, a servant she’d known for several years.
“I brought tea,” Rihana said, smiling happily. “To calm the bride and you as well, Queen Fatima.”
Fatima reached gratefully for a cup of the steaming liquid. “You’ve saved my life,” she said, then took a sip. “All these details to be worked out in a such a short period of time. I’m getting too old for this.”
“Never,” Dora said loyally, reaching for her own cup of herbal brew. “You shame us all with your energy.”
Rihana offered Heidi a cup, but she shook her head. The long veil was in place, and she didn’t want to disturb it. Besides, her hands were shaking, and she would probably end up spilling the entire cup down the front of her gown.
The dark-haired servant moved next to her. “You are happy to be marrying Jamal, yes? He is the most handsome of the brothers.”
“I heard that,” Dora said, her light blue dress swaying gently as she settled into one of the gilded chairs by the dressing area.
“Khalil is very handsome, too,” Rihana said quickly. “As is Malik. But Jamal—” She giggled. “He charms the ladies.”
“Jamal does have more than his share of female attention,” Fatima admitted. “Of course, all that will change once he’s married.” She patted Heidi’s arm. “Not to worry. He’ll be a faithful and loving husband.”
Heidi nodded with a conviction she didn’t feel. Faithful, probably. Jamal had given his word, and she didn’t doubt him. But loving? How could either of them love the other when they’d been forced into marriage through emotional blackmail? She and Jamal had been set up with an impossible task, and if she already didn’t have enough to worry about, there was also the matter of their wedding night.
Even though Jamal had mentioned putting off having children, he hadn’t said a word about putting off being intimate. She’d asked him to give up his other women, and in return he’d told her she was required to satisfy his appetites.
A shiver rippled through her. The tightness in her chest returned, as did the panic.
Be calm, she told herself. That kiss hadn’t been so horrible. Actually it had been very nice. Maybe the rest of it would be nice, too. Or at least not too gross.
Fatima put down her teacup. “Rihana, come with me. I want to check the banquet preparations one last time. Dora, you’ll stay with Heidi, won’t you? Talk about something to take her mind off the situation.”
“No problem.” Dora waved the older woman away. “Go. Satisfy yourself that everything is going to be perfect. Heidi and I are fine.”
Fatima nodded, then left the room with Rihana right behind her. When they were alone, Dora shook her head.
“Fatima is a force of nature. I hope I’m exactly like her when I get to be her age. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being like her now.”
“I know what you mean,” Heidi said. “I console myself with the thought that she has a lot more practice at all of this.”
Dora set down her tea, then rose, and walked over to stand by Heidi. She adjusted the sleeves of her robe. “At least you’re going to understand the ceremony. When Khalil and I married, everything was a blur.”
“Knowing the significance of everything being said isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Heidi murmured, hoping her stomach would settle down soon. The churning was getting to her.
Dora touched her arm. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to. At the risk of putting myself on the line with my in-laws, I would be happy to get you to the airport.”
The kind offer nearly brought Heidi to tears. Despite the possibility of wrinkling her robe or her veil, she hugged Dora close.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “I so appreciate that.”
“But you’re saying no.”
“I have to.”
Dora stepped back and studied her. “I’ll accept what you’re telling me. Just know that I’m here for you. I think the two of us will get along very well.”
“Me too.”
Dora smiled. “It’s not going to be so bad. There are compensations for a new bride in the Khan family. In fact you’ll find out about one tonight.”
Heidi forced herself to look amused by the comment, when in fact it made her want to run in the opposite direction and never be heard from again. Dora was just being friendly, she reminded herself. She couldn’t know that the thought of having to be intimate with Jamal was enough to tie her up in knots.
Before she had to think of something to say, Fatima bustled back into the room. “Everything is in order,” she announced. “Are you ready?”
The wedding passed in a blur, as did the banquet that followed. Safely hidden in her robe and veil, Heidi remained a silent observer to all that happened.
One good thing about El Baharian weddings, she thought as she refused an offer of food. Nothing much was expected of the bride except that she show up and be quiet. As a student of El Baharian history, she’d been insulted by the lack of participation by one of the key players. Now as a very nervous, virgin bride, she was thrilled by her simple role. If only she could get through the rest of the night so easily.
“Are you ready?” Jamal asked, leaning close and whispering in her ear. “I think we’ve been here long enough.”
Heidi was torn. Leaving meant not being here…which was a good thing. She was tired of everyone staring at her. But leaving also meant being alone with Jamal, which wasn’t a good thing.
“Sure,” she whispered back, then held out her hand so that he could help her to her feet.
Instantly the guests began to call out comments. Khalil’s voice rose above the others as he yelled, “You couldn’t even wait an hour? Watch out, Heidi. Jamal’s going to wear you out.”
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