The Sheikh's Jewel

by Melissa James

  ‘You found life’s best gift all by yourself. You came home all by yourself, too. I had my bride and my life handed to me—by you, I should add.’

  ‘You know what I mean. I can’t believe we could have been friends all these years, but—’

  Neither wanted to say it. Separated by those they’d loved and needed most, they could always have been allies. ‘Nothing’s stopping us now,’ Harun said huskily.

  ‘And nothing will again.’ Another massive hug.

  ‘You’re choking me,’ Harun mock complained, ‘and crushing my best man’s outfit.’

  ‘Who was it that abducted you?’ Alim asked abruptly, releasing him.

  In answer, he handed Alim the file he’d dropped during the first hug. ‘The entire group has been put out of action.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Alim scanned the first sheet rapidly. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it of the Jamal and Hamor clans, but yes, they are very conservative. With financial and armed backing from our more conservative neighbours, I guess they thought they could try. I think it’s time we did something about our neighbours, too.’

  ‘I did all that’s needed, My Lord.’ Harun bowed, laughing again. ‘I told you I worked night and day. I found out who it was by word of mouth months ago—but proof had to be absolute. When it was, the perpetrators were easy to rout, especially after my public announcement. Now go, enjoy your wedding. It’s time to go see your bride.’

  And he pushed Alim out of the door. One relationship on track…but he had the feeling this lifelong breach would be the easier of the two to heal.

  * * *

  The wedding banquet was beautiful, filled with the daintiest dishes of the region. Sheikhs, presidents and first ladies sat at the tables, mingled and laughed, probably proposed or made new deals over a relaxing extended meal, while Alim and Hana ignored the world, feeding each other, giving small touches, their eyes locked on the other. So absorbed were they that when someone approached them, they jerked out of their own little world with obvious surprise that anyone else existed.

  To think he could have had a similar wedding, if only he’d known Amber wanted him the way he’d wanted her…

  But right now, even his memories of their two days of joy seemed false. Dressed in full, traditional clothing, covered from head to foot apart from her face, Amber sat at the royal table between two first ladies, speaking only with them. She was thinner, paler, wearing none of her soft make-up that made her face glow with life; her eyes were too calm, holding no emotion at all; her hands remained at the table instead of waving around as she talked.

  She’d lost herself somewhere in the past few months—or hours. She’d whitened when she’d seen him standing beside Alim, and looked away before he could move or even smile at her, and she’d avoided him ever since. He’d been trying to get her attention discreetly, but she wasn’t responding. Any moment now, she’d excuse herself and retire to the women’s quarters.

  So he stalked over to her. ‘I wish to speak to you, my wife.’

  Amber’s head snapped around to him, her lips parted in shock that he’d come right into the open; but trapped by law and convention, she could either cause a scene, or acquiesce.

  The cheeks that had been pale were now rosy; her eyes were fiery with indignation. ‘As you can no doubt see, I am fully occupied at present, my husband.’ With the slightest sarcastic inflection on the title husband, she waved a hand at the important women sitting either side of her, who both immediately demurred, insisting that if her husband wished to speak with her, they’d be fine together.

  Obviously fuming, she rose to her feet; but Harun, inwardly grinning—at least she was alive again—held out his hand, which again she had to take in seeming grace. He led her around the table, and out through the state banqueting rooms onto the back balcony of the palace, semi-private and with no public or press access.

  Once there, she jerked her hand away, and folded her arms, waiting.

  Instinct told him a joke wouldn’t get him far this time. Neither would she reach out to him. This time, he had to be the one to give. Anything that would get her to talk to him, tell him what she was thinking and feeling, even if she hated him.

  So he started there. ‘Do you hate me for being away so long?’

  She sighed, looking out into the night. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you want from me this time, so we can get on with our lives once you’re gone again?’

  The question confused him, but he felt it wasn’t a topic to pursue, not yet. ‘You look so thin,’ he said softly. ‘Are you feeling well?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Cold words, with no compromise. She wasn’t giving anything away, wasn’t going to play his game. She wanted her question answered.

  ‘You’re my wife. I’ve come back for you, as I promised I would.’

  ‘Like a dropped-off package, or a toy forgotten about until you want to play again?’

  ‘No, like a wife I hoped would understand that what I was doing had to come first.’

  Another sigh, harsh and rather bored, and she kept looking out into the night. ‘Just tell me what you want.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. You’re my wife. I’ve come back for you.’

  ‘Your wife.’ The words were flat, as was the laughter that followed. ‘So says the imam that performed the service. Isn’t that what you said?’ Still she wouldn’t look at him. ‘What is a wife to you?’

  She’d obviously had far too much time alone to think; every question she asked left him feeling more bewildered. ‘I think you have ideas on what I think a wife is.’ Soft, provocatively spoken, designed to break the wall of ice around her and get to the pain of abandonment hiding beneath.

  She lifted her brows in open incredulity, but remained silent.

  Feeling hunted and harried into a position he didn’t want to take, wishing fervently for the wife who’d pushed and prodded her way into his bed and heart, he snapped, ‘Okay, Amber, I don’t know what I think a wife is, but I know what I want. I want those two days we had. I want them again. I want a honeymoon with you, to find the life we both want—’

  Loud, almost manic laughter sliced his words off. Amber was doubled over herself, laughing with a hard, cynical edge that told him he’d better not join her. ‘A life we both want?’ She gasped, and laughed over again. ‘What do I want, Harun? Do you even know that much about me? Do you know anything about me?’

  Daylight began cracking apart the icy darkness she’d wrapped herself in. ‘I know you’re brave and beautiful and loyal to me even when I don’t deserve it,’ he said softly. ‘I know you gave me chance after chance, and forgave me time and again. I know you’re the wife I want, the woman I want to spend my life with. But you’re right, I don’t know what you want. That’s what I’m here to find out. Doesn’t that count for something?’

  ‘Not right now, no.’ Hands on hips, she seemed challenging, except she still refused to look at him, or make a connection of any kind. If she’d heard how he felt about her written between the lines he’d spoken she wouldn’t acknowledge it.

  ‘All right, Amber, I understand.’

  A little snort was her only answer.

  ‘Oh, I do understand.’ With swift, military precision, he whipped the burqa from her head, ignoring her outraged gasp. ‘You’re hiding from me the way I hid from you all those years. You’re not going to make it easy for me, and I don’t deserve you to.’ Grabbing her and hauling her against him, he held her hard with one hand, while he slowly played with a thick tress of hair, unbound beneath the veil she’d worn. ‘Have I missed anything?’ he asked huskily, inhaling the rosemary scent in her hair.

  ‘Ask yourself,’ she retorted in a voice that shook just a little.

  ‘Ah, thank you, mee johara. That means I did.’ He grinned at her as her eyes smoked with fury. ‘Ah, of course…you still want to know what I think a wife is?’

  Her chin lifted.

  ‘You,’ he answered, trying to douse the flames in her he
art. ‘That’s all. When I think of “a wife”, I think of you. Just as you are.’

  ‘Don’t,’ she snarled without warning. ‘Don’t worm your way in with pretty words and compliments. I thought you were dead—that—that they’d killed you. Or that you were never coming back. Why else would you not contact me once? What did I do to—to…?’ She pulled at his hands until he released her. She’d startled him right out of his cocky assurance, and his belief that he’d win. She faced him, panting, her eyes shimmering with pain. ‘I loved you. I loved you with all of me, I gave you everything I had, and you just left. You left me for the sake of the brother who’d abandoned and betrayed you. Do you have any idea what that did to me?’

  Bewildered, he spoke from depths he hadn’t known were in him. ‘But he’s my family, Amber. I had no choice. It was my duty.’

  ‘What about me?’ she cried. ‘Was it your duty to seduce and then abandon me, to hurt me the way Alim hurt you? Do I have to run off like he did to make you see I’m alive and that I hurt?’ She held up a hand when he would have spoken. ‘I—I can’t do this any more. I tried, Harun, I tried to make things work with you for three years. I tried to show you that love isn’t manipulation and emotional blackmail, but you won’t see it. I’m tired of hitting my head against a wall. Believe Fadi and not me, and spend your life alone!’

  She ran for the balcony doors.

  Love isn’t manipulation and emotional blackmail…believe Fadi…

  That was what Fadi had done to him since childhood, and he’d never known it until now. But she had. She’d seen that he’d gained Fadi’s love and approval by doing anything asked of him, no matter what it cost him personally. Fadi hadn’t known any better, but followed the example set by their parents. Alim had found a way to escape from it, and somehow, somewhere in his worldwide travels, had learned how to love. But he, Harun, had stayed like a whipped dog, always saying yes, because he accepted the manipulation—because he didn’t know any better.

  In three long years, Amber had asked only one thing of him—and he hadn’t even given her that, because she didn’t manipulate or blackmail him into it.

  If someone loves you, they ask the impossible over and over…and he’d believed it was normal, even right; his duty.

  Amber hadn’t asked him to change, or to slay dragons for her. So he’d never believed she loved him. Not until now, when she’d stripped his lifelong beliefs in a moment, left him bare and bleeding, and she was leaving him.

  He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t take losing her. This time would be for ever—

  ‘I love you.’ Three raw, desperate words. God, let them be enough, let her stay. Come back to me, Amber…

  Her hand on the door handle, she turned, and hope soared—

  She made a small, choking sound, the one she made when she was about to cry. ‘I can’t believe you’d be so cruel, after what they did to you. Don’t ever use those words against me again.’

  Then she was gone. Harun stood by the balcony rail, exposed to the bone, the world’s greatest fool.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  IT was 3 a.m. and Harun was pounding the road, gasping with each breath and pushing himself still harder. At least ten miles from the palace, his guards were running behind him and finding it hard to keep up. It had been hours since he’d seen Alim and Hana to their bridal chamber. He’d shepherded all of the guests downstairs, made sure the food and drink still overflowed for anyone who wanted it. He’d chatted amiably with heads of state he’d known for years, had quietly warned their friendlier neighbours against trusting certain people among the nations surrounding them, and in general played the perfect host.

  The perfect host, the perfect brother, he thought now, with an inner wryness that never made it to his expression. Why can’t I be the perfect husband?

  He wished he knew how to be everything Amber wanted…

  What does she want? an imp in his mind prodded. All she ever wanted was you. But you pushed her away and abandoned her until it was too late. What does she want now—the freedom from you she’d asked for months ago?

  Her words replayed over and over in his brain. I thought you were dead. Or that you were never coming back. Love isn’t manipulation and emotional blackmail.

  He was missing something. It wasn’t in Amber’s nature to hurt him without a reason; he knew that now. Everything she’d said taught him what love wasn’t.

  So what the hell was it, then? It seemed she had the secret, but he’d been deaf and blind the whole time she was trying to tell or show him.

  He thought she’d wanted to hear he loved her. So what had gone so wrong?

  At four a.m., he came to the inescapable conclusion: there was only one way to find out. He wheeled around and ran back for the palace, much to the relief of his stitching, gasping guards.

  Five a.m.

  ‘My Lord, it’s written in the law! You cannot come into this place!’

  ‘Unless you are the ruling sheikh—or the woman in question is your wife. I know the law. Is there any woman in here but my wife?’

  ‘There is the maid, My Lord!’

  ‘Then I suggest you send her out immediately. I will give you three minutes, then I am coming in no matter what—and I suggest you don’t argue with me. I doubt you possess the skills to stop me.’

  ‘Your wife is sleeping. Would you wake her?’

  ‘No, she’s not. She’s behind the door, listening, as she has been since about a minute after I began yelling for her. I knew she’d be awake, or I wouldn’t have come.’

  The tone was more grim than amused. Even with her throat and eyes on fire, Amber smiled a bit. The door had no glass; he’d just known she’d be waiting for him.

  ‘Let him in, Tahir,’ she called, opening the door. ‘I’ll send Sabetha out.’

  The maid, wakened by Harun’s first roar for Amber, scuttled past her. Harun shouldered past the guard, snarling, ‘No listening. If there’s any gossip about this, you both lose your positions.’

  ‘We love the lady Amber, My Lord,’ little, delicate Sabetha said, with gentle dignity.

  His face softened at that. ‘I’m grateful for your loyalty to the lady Amber. I beg your pardon for insulting you.’

  Sabetha smiled up at him, not with infatuation but instant affection. Tahir smiled also, but with a manly kind of understanding; he’d forgiven his lord.

  Harun seemed to have the knack of making people care. She just wished he knew how to care in return.

  In softer mode now, he walked into the room and closed the door. But instead of talking, he just looked at her until she wanted to squirm. ‘Well?’ she demanded, or tried to. It sounded breathless, hopeful.

  Would she ever stop being a fool over this man?

  ‘You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen or will ever see,’ he said, with a quiet sincerity that made her breath take up unmoving lodgings in her throat. ‘I thought that the first time I saw you, and I still think it now.’

  She lifted her chin, letting him see her devastated face clearly, her tangled hair and the salt tracks lining her cheeks. ‘I’ve spent the past six hours crying and hating you, so it might be best if you use less practised lines. You have five minutes to give me a compelling reason to let you stay here any longer.’

  ‘That you’ve cried over me only makes you more beautiful in my eyes.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ Tapping her foot, she looked at her watch. ‘Four minutes forty-five seconds.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know how to love any other way but through doing what I perceived as my duty. I thought it was all I had to give.’ Taking her by the shoulders, he opened his eyes, looked at her as if she was his path to salvation and rushed the words out, as if he didn’t say everything now, he never would. ‘Those two days we were together, I felt like I was flying. Now it’s gone, and the past few months I felt like I was starving to death. I’m suffocating under duty, lost and wandering and alone, and nothing works. I need you, Amber, by God I nee
d you. Please, can you teach me how to make you happy—because without you, I never will be. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, can’t think about anything but touching you, being with you again.’ He dragged her against him, and she didn’t have the heart or will to pull away. ‘Don’t deny me, Amber, because I won’t go, not tonight, not any night. Teach me the words you want to hear. I’ll say whatever you need, do whatever it takes, because right now I need you more than my next breath. I can’t let you keep shutting me out, not when you’re everything to me.’

  Ouch—it hurt to try to gulp with her mouth still open. How did he turn up just when she’d given up hope, and say the words she needed to hear more than life?

  With a tiny noise, she buried her face in his neck. ‘Me too, oh, me too, I need you so much,’ she whispered as she cannoned into him, her fingers winding in his hair to pull him down to her. ‘You just said everything I needed to know.’

  ‘Except one thing,’ he muttered hoarsely between kisses. ‘I love you, Amber. I have from the day we met. I just never knew how to say it, or how to believe you could ever love me in return.’

  ‘Do you believe it now?’ she whispered, pulling back a little. This was something she had to know now.

  He smiled down at her. ‘I knew it the day you yelled at Alim, my jewel. It’s why I came back today so full of confidence. I’d hoped missing me would have softened you. But you taught me a valuable lesson tonight—that I have to trust in our love, and talk to you.’ He nuzzled her lips. ‘I’ll never put you last again. From now on, you’re my family, my first duty. My desire, my passion. My precious jewel.’

  ‘I’m so happy,’ she cried, kissing him. ‘But though your words are wonderful, I want you to show me the desire and passion. I’ve missed you so much!’

  He didn’t need to be told twice. Devouring each other in desperate kisses, mumbling more words of desire and need, they staggered together back to the bed.

  Later that morning

  The sun was well up when Harun began to stir.