The Sheik's Secret Bride (14 page)

She was so tired of crying but this time, she was ready.  She couldn’t believe all she’d learned today and how light-hearted she felt at the moment.  It was as if the weight of a heavy problem was gone.  And she knew that was exactly what she had to say. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, looking down at her hands that were twisting together.  “Thank you for ending the war and…” she stumbled on this part.  “Thank you for…”

She looked out the window, not sure how to say this.  It still scared her but he deserved to know the truth.  “And thank you for not giving up on us.”

She felt his hands slide onto her silk covered shoulders.  She wasn’t wearing one of his large shirts tonight.  She was in one of the beautiful nightgowns and a silk robe that had been packed for her. 

“Did the others reassure you about the future?” he asked gently, his deep voice sliding over her softly. 

“Yes.”  She nodded her head, still looking out into the dark night.  “Yes, they reassured me but…”

“Stop Callie,” he told her and turned her around.  “No.  I can’t guarantee the future.  No, I can’t guarantee that nothing else will happen to you or Luca or myself or any of the other children we will have in the future.”  He ignored her weepy laughter at his arrogant assumption.  “I can only show you what I’ve done to make you and the rest of the country safe.  There are horrible people in this world.  But I can eliminate some of the risks.  Not all,” he cautioned. 

She nodded.  “I understand.”

He lifted her head so that she was looking at him.  “Do you?”

“Yes,” she sobbed and leaned against him.  For the first time, she was initiating an embrace.  “Yes.  I understand and I’m sorry that I doubted you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes as the implication of her words hit him.  “And?” he coaxed when it seemed that she wouldn’t continue.

Callie smiled against his hard chest.  The man really was arrogant, she thought.  He wouldn’t settle for anything less than full disclosure.  Which was probably what made him such an amazing ruler, but it would make him an annoying husband.  “And,” she started off, “I think that has been enough revelations for one night.” 

She pulled out of his arms and sauntered away, ignoring the growl from Zahir almost directly behind her.  She was prepared to run, to get out of his reach but once again, she hesitated.  Always her downfall, she thought as she yelped when his arms tossed her up into the air, her legs swinging out while he spun her around, getting a better grip on her.  She laughed at his growl as he carried her over to the enormous bed.  “Callie, if you don’t tell me the words I want to hear, I’m going to have to tickle them out of you,” he told her firmly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying this playful side of him.  She’d seen it when they were together the first time but things had been too tense, too serious over the past two weeks.  This side of him had been hidden. 

“I’m not saying anything else.  You’re too spoiled already.  I have to be the balancing influence on both you and Luca.”

She screamed and tried to wiggle away from him when his teeth nipped at her neck while his hands tickled her.  “Tell me, woman,” he commanded, holding her right where he wanted her. 

Callie shook her head, her stomach aching from her laughter.  “No.  I have nothing else to say to you.”

He lifted his head and looked down into her beautiful, laughing features.  “Is that really how you want to play this?” he asked and Callie’s stomach muscles tensed even more as she saw the promise in his dark eyes. 

“Yes,” she whispered, her body already preparing for whatever he might dish out to her. 

Zahir smiled, his eyes moving down her silk covered figure with wicked intent.  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Callie gasped and sighed and a long time later, when she was naked and completely sated as she snuggled into his arms, she whispered, “I love you.”

Zahir rolled over her once again, his body already preparing for yet another bout of making this woman scream out with pleasure.  “I love you too, Callie.  And I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.  You’re my wife and I love you more than I can say.”

Callie thought about the three other men that were sleeping somewhere in the fortress and all that had been revealed today.  “You ended a war for me,” she whispered.  “There was a woman in history who started a war but,” she lifted her hands, letting her fingers slide through his black hair slowly, “I think that ending the war to get me back is so much more romantic.”  And she showed him how much she loved him one more time. 

Excerpt from The Sheik’s Angry Bride, Book 4 in The War, Love, and Harmony Series

Layla smoothed the long, black gloves up over her arms and elbows, ignoring the pains in her stomach.  She would not give in to the nausea.  This is what she had been trained for.  This moment, this role…all her life she’d been told that this was her purpose.  Everything she’d trained for her whole life was for this moment.   All details of the contract negotiated, each aspect of the agreement argued about and finalized, every line of the contract ultimately signed by the appropriate people.  Not by her, of course!  No, she hadn’t been called into any office to sign the agreement.  But that didn’t matter.  This moment represented everything she’d been trained for since birth. 

She took a deep breath and focused all of her attention on ensuring that there were no wrinkles in her dress or her gloves, that the diamond bracelet on her wrist didn’t show the clasp and refused to contemplate what was about to happen.  Her gloved hand reached up and smoothed her hair, then stopped.  There was so much hairspray on her right now, the friction of touching it in any way might light her head on fire. 

Layla might have smiled at the idea if she weren’t so terrified inside.  That didn’t stop the image from forming though.  She could just picture her fiancé’s face when he walked into this meeting room only to discover a ball of flames instead of his fiancée.  Of course, Layla would stand perfectly upright, a smile of greeting on her overly made up features as she bowed and tried not to let the flames from her hair touch any of the medals on her intended’s immaculate and exalted chest.  But that was what she’d been trained all of her life for – to look acceptable at every moment of the day and produce heirs.  No other reason – just to adorn her husband’s arm and act as a walking womb. 

A burst of hysterical laughter threatened but she took a deep breath, trying hard to remain composed despite her mind’s overly active imagination at work right at the moment. 

It wouldn’t do for her to be caught laughing when she met her future husband for the first timeF she thought and then cringed inwardly because even her inner dialogue now sounded like her mother, admonishing her for being silly.  Regardless, she pulled her shoulders back and took a deep breath, trying to snap out of this terror she was feeling.  No, it definitely wouldn’t do to appear to be smiling.  And laughing?  Out of the question, she told herself mentally.  A pleasant expression was all that was needed during this meeting.  Anything more might offend, anything less my insult. 

Over and over, this had been drilled into her throughout her life to the point where she now could breathe in, breathe out, and then look up with the perfectly serene expression on her face that she’d been forced to practice while growing up. 

She was also painfully aware that smiling too brightly might cause her makeup to crack.  Goodness, wouldn’t that be silly?  She could see the headlines tomorrow morning… “A chunk of the princess’ face fell to the floor after she laughed!”

No, she mentally shook herself.  That wouldn’t do, either.  Serenity, she chanted to herself.  She’d practiced this look in the mirror so often, it should come naturally to her by now.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Lift the chin.  Hands calm.  Spine straight.  And don’t throw up on the man!  For goodness sake, don’t throw up! 

The doors at the other end of the hallway opened up and she pulled her shoulders back.  Showtime, she thought, and suppressed the resentment that was welling up inside of her. 

She waited patiently, her light blue eyes glancing across each man’s face as he stepped through the doors, wondering if that was her future husband.  She was relieved to be wearing the high necked, black satin sheath dress so that her pounding heart wouldn’t be noticed.  This was the night her hopes and dreams were to die.  This was the night when all of her silly girl fantasies were obliterated. 

This was the night when she met her new owner.

Garon stepped through the double doors just as his guards separated to the right and left.  His eyes moved through the crowd of people standing inside the room, taking it all in.  But his gaze skidded to a screeching halt as he took in the trembling beauty standing in the middle of the room.  There was no way he could miss the fact that this was his bride.  The other guests, including her mother and father, were all standing near the walls while this stunning beauty stood in the center watching him with her lovely fairy eyes and soft, full lips, a slender figure clad all in black from her neck right down to her dainty toes and her long fingers. 

Two things occurred to him at that moment.  The first was that his exquisite fiancée had come to their first meeting dressed for a funeral which amused him.  He had no doubt that the message was intended. 

But the other issue was this woman’s beauty, which was quite startling.  He’d seen formal pictures of her, of course.  The negotiations for this marriage had taken place over the past several months so he had known what Layla Alfarsi looked like.  But he was startled by the impact of her, which was not something he had anticipated.  He wanted to be attracted to his wife, that was a given.  What he hadn’t foreseen were the other reactions that hit him like a punch in the gut.

This feeling, this instinctual predatory anticipation that surged up inside of him as he approached his future bride was not anticipated.  And he wasn’t sure it was welcome either. 

The entire reason for this meeting was to get to know his bride before the wedding.  Not to toss her over his shoulder so he could carry her away to a private place and have his way with her. 

Reining in his near blinding need to possess this woman, he stopped directly in front of her.  Looking down at her, he was surprised at how small she felt.  According to the dossier he’d been given on Layla Alfarsi, she was supposed to be five feet, five inches tall.  But this woman, even in heels, barely came to his shoulder.  Her slight form, her willowy figure, probably made her appear smaller, he thought. 

“Good evening, Layla,” he started off.  He reached down and took her hand, irritated with the long gloves.  He wanted to rip them off of her, to feel her soft skin and explore those pink lips.  But she might get offended by that, he supposed.

All in due time, he reminded himself.  Very soon, this woman would be his.  And he could explore all of that trembling courage at his leisure. 

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she replied, dipping into a curtsy and bowing her head. 

Layla couldn’t believe how hard it was to rise from that simple gesture but her legs were trembling and her heart pounding so hard, she was actually worried that she might fall onto the floor at this man’s feet.  He must have sensed her trepidation because his hand tightened on her fingers, helping her to rise out of the curtsy.  When she was once more standing in front of him, she knew that the polite thing to do was to thank him silently but she simply couldn’t look up at him.  Not this man! 

He was too…everything!  Shock waves rocketed throughout her body as the heat from his hand seemed to be melting the silk of her black gloves where he continued to touch her.  She’d tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t release her fingers. 

Layla felt trapped by this man.  He was barely touching her but there was something about him, a sense deep inside of her that told her she should run as fast and as hard as she could away from him. 

But her training kicked in once more and she straightened her shoulders.  Waiting. 

And waiting.  In fact, everyone in the room seemed to be silent, waiting. 

“We will stand here all night, my beauty, until you look at me,” he told her in a voice that only she could hear. 

Layla’s heart, already pounding fast, went into triple time with his words.  Look at him?  She wanted to run away!  She wanted to hide behind the enormous plant in the corner.  She wanted to whip her hand out from his grasp and step backwards so there was more space between the two of them.  She absolutely did not want to look up at him.

But this was her duty.  He’d commanded, she must obey.  Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes higher.  And higher!  Goodness, he was tall! 

When her blue eyes finally met his, that horrible trembling increased even more.  His black gaze looked down at her and that need to flee, to hide, intensified.  But something else also rose up.  Something that saved her from making a fool of herself and bringing dishonor upon her family.

Anger! 

Oh, the wonderful, heat-encouraging, bubbling anger was her saving grace.  Gritting her teeth, she stared right back at this man, daring him to…to do whatever it was he might do!  She had no idea of his intentions, nor was she going to ask.  She simply waited for him, challenging him with her blue eyes as they fought a battle of wills.

Garon’s stomach muscles clenched and his body reacted to that angry gaze.  Until a few months ago, he’d never really contemplated his wife and the traits he might want in that woman.  Nor had there been any discussion during the negotiations about Layla’s preferences, her temperament.  He was simply assured that she had been raised to know her duty, her responsibilities.  Testing had been done to ensure her fertility and that was the end of that conversation.  All the negotiations from that point on were monetary and political.  The exchange of this woman from her family to his would be a boon to both sides of the negotiating table. 

Every feral and predatory cell in his body reacted to her challenge, to those striking, blue eyes glaring up at him.  He wanted to both subdue her rebellion while at the same time, set her passion free.  The unexpected pleasure he found in just looking at her shot through him and he had to stop himself from ordering everyone out of the room but this one woman.