The Sheikh's Secret Bride

by Leslie North

  “I’m glad you enjoy it.” Nassir couldn’t seem to stop staring at her mouth, at the way her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip. “But you sound surprised.”

  “I’ve had Indian curry before, but this is different. This has just the right amount of heat.”

  The right amount of heat, indeed. The fact she seemed to like his native foods pleased Nassir more than he cared to admit. In the palace, the chef would cook whatever she wanted including American dishes, but the thought of them sharing a banquet for two of their favourite spicy dishes brought a smile to his lips.

  “So,” Janna said around a bite of salad. “Your bride doesn’t want to have a say in the planning of the wedding?”

  “Let us finish our meal first, then we will discuss business, yes?”

  “Okay.”

  Half an hour later, Janna sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. “This was all wonderful, but I can’t eat another bite.”

  “I, too, am full.” He called the waiter over once more to clear their plates, then ordered strong coffee. Janna asked for hot water and tea instead.

  Once the waiter had brought their items, she got down to business again, transforming from satisfied female to hardened harpy before his eyes. “All right. Let’s start at the top. What is our budget?”

  “Budget?”

  “Yes. How much money will you spend on your wedding?”

  “There is no budget. Whatever you decide will be done. I am a man of position and therefore my wedding should be extravagant. Nothing discounted or cheap.”

  “I’ve never planned a wedding that didn’t have some type of ceiling on the budget. Even Sheik Amare gave me a few expenditure guidelines.”

  “Well, now you have.” Nassir smiled at her stunned expression. “I’m sure you’ve had ideas about the perfect wedding before, but have never been able to act upon them. Now you can. Plan this wedding with the same care and consideration as if it were your own. As if there were no limitations to the money that could be spent.”

  Janna raised her eyebrows, “You’re serious?”

  “Most definitely. Do whatever makes you happy.”

  “But it’s not my wedding.” She shook her head and clasped her hands on the table top. “Perhaps your bride and I have different tastes.”

  “I doubt it.” He sat back and watched her, “I imagine you would be a romantic, using lots of flowers, decorations, creating a fantasy land where the bride was the princess and the groom the handsome prince.”

  She flushed the most beguiling shade of rose he’d ever seen. “I’ve done Cinderella themed weddings. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.”

  “This isn’t about what I want.”

  She looked up and met his gaze, a flicker of something passing through her eyes, there then gone before he could identify it. Empathy, perhaps.

  “Mr. Adjalane…”

  “Nassir,” he corrected her again.

  “Nassir,” she kept her gaze lowered, her voice firm. “If your bride is not going to be involved in planning the wedding, I must insist you provide some guidance.”

  “I have. If you are happy, I will be happy.”

  “And will your bride? Will she be happy too?” She pushed away from the table and stood. “Thank you for lunch. I need to go so I can get my things moved into the palace.” She turned to leave then stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. “I hope your bride knows who she’s marrying.”

  “She will,” he said, then watched as she strode from the restaurant, her head high and her movements graceful. She moved like one of his prized thoroughbred racehorses, all sleek muscle and refined beauty. He’d always left the taming of his race horses to his stable hands, but not this time.

  Nassir settled the bill then strode out to his own waiting car. This time he would very much enjoy taming this fine, charming, completely disarming American filly himself.

  Chapter 5

  Tired and frustrated after she left the restaurant, Janna had directed the driver to take her to the palace. Upon her arrival, she’d been shown to a luxurious suite of rooms with marble floors and columns, white on white walls, and elegant furnishings.

  Despite her job-related dilemmas, she almost felt like a princess. At least until she met Nassir’s secretary and the man had handed over a huge guest list—over one thousand invited.

  Royalty-related illusions gone.

  Now, she was on the hunt for a venue in Al-Sarid big enough to hold such an elaborate affair.

  Not exactly an easy task, given the language barrier, but her English-speaking driver, Hamal, had come to her rescue once more, whisking her around to most of the popular banquet halls and rental spaces. Unfortunately, she’d yet to find anything suitable. Most were either too big or too small. Nothing just right.

  She sighed. This whole shindig was turning into a Goldilocks nightmare.

  Hours later, her driver delivered her back to the palace. Feet aching once more, she strode into the foyer and stopped again to marvel at the majestic elegance around her—from the soaring domed ceilings to the mosaic inlaid wall art that shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. Around her, servants bustled to and fro. Everyone in the place seemed to have a job to do, important stuff to handle.

  Including her, if she could just figure out the best way to delve into these wedding arrangements. A cool breeze drifted in to her right and she spotted a set of open patio doors. Curious, she wandered in that direction, hoping she wasn’t overstepping her guest boundaries. Technically, Nassir had never told her not to explore his home, so if she got caught, she could truthfully feign ignorance.

  She neared the doors and spotted a large marble veranda beyond, which led down to the most beautiful gardens she’d ever seen. As if drawn by an invisible cord, she stepped outside and walked down the steps, taking in the lush foliage, the flowers and their exotic fragrances. The grass seemed vibrantly green along the stone walkway and throughout the enormous space. Fountains gurgled and palm trees whispered in the winds high above. The whole thing was a horticulturist’s dream landscape.

  She stopped and turned a three sixty, her tired spirits rallying and her pulse racing with adrenaline and anticipation.

  This. This was it. The perfect space for the wedding.

  Already, she could picture where the tents would go, how to decorate the space, the perfect spot for the dance floor. Janna wandered farther into the oasis and discovered a tiered fountain with lush greenery with a palm tree growing from the middle, the sound of the water falling from one level to the next soothing, nearly hypnotic.

  “Janna.”

  She jumped and spun fast to find Nassir watching her from nearby, his dark eyes narrowed on her and a slight frown marring his smooth, tanned brow. A tingle of awareness zinged outward from her core at the sheer maleness of him. She shuffled her feet and tried to play it off as best she could. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

  He didn’t respond, his frown deepening.

  Unsure what to do and not wanting to get in trouble for reckless snooping, she attempted to turn the spotlight back on him. “Everything all right?”

  “Fine. Tough day.”

  She nodded. “Likewise.”

  “How are things coming with the wedding plans?” he asked, stepping toward her.

  “Better. I was out all afternoon, scouring your city for the right venue. Then I came back here and it was right under my nose.” She gestured to indicate the surrounding gardens.

  “You like this space?”

  “Love it. I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

  “This is where I come to think and sort out my problems. It’s been my secret hideaway since I was a young boy.”

  “Quite a hideaway.”

  “Na’am.”

  She gave him a confused look and he smiled. The small gesture changed him from brooding to beautiful. Janna’s pulse quickened and her breath caught.

  “It means yes, in my language.”
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  “Ah.” She nodded and took a step back, away from him and all the naughty things he made her feel and want. “Well. I should probably get back to my room now.”

  “Not yet. It is time for dinner. Come, we will dine together this evening.”

  “Oh.” Janna hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “No bother at all. You are my guest. Please, come along.”

  “Are you sure? I’m sure you’re really busy and I don’t want to intrude.”

  “I would not have asked if I was not sure.”

  Dinner with him would be a mistake. Especially given the fact that every time she looked at him today, she couldn’t seem to help fantasizing about what she’d seen of him in the gym earlier, wondering about how he might taste, how he might feel—his muscled body tight against hers. She floundered for the first excuse that popped into her mind. “Won’t you be eating with your bride, since she missed lunch and all?”

  “No. I will be having dinner with you.” He took her arm and led her back toward the palace.

  Distracted, she tripped on the first marble step and heat prickled her cheeks. Smooth move, idiot. “Listen, I really appreciate the offer and all, but I think it would be best if I eat in my room tonight.”

  “Nonsense. There is no reason for you to dine alone when you can share a meal with me.”

  She tried to free herself from his grip as he tugged her toward the patio doors, but couldn’t. It seemed whatever Nassir wanted, Nassir got, whether she liked it or not. The thought rankled and she sighed.

  “What is wrong?” He stopped on the veranda and faced her. “Are you not hungry?”

  “No.” Her stomach rumbled loud, betraying her. Nassir raised his brow. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “Good. It is settled then.” He let her go and she missed the warmth of his touch immediately.

  Dammit. This was awful. Nassir was engaged to married and she’d been hired to plan the wedding, not sleep with the groom.

  He smiled again, a crooked little affair brimming with masculine charm, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on her. “I will leave you here so that you may get changed for the evening. Have you met Hafa?”

  Nassir gestured toward a lovely young girl standing near the doorway.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Hafa will be your personal maid while you are here.”

  Janna glanced from Nassir to Hafa and back again. She never had a maid in her life. “Um, I don’t…”

  “No objections. You are my guest and you will be treated as such. Now, if you will excuse me I have a few more business details to attend to before the day is done. I will see you in an hour. Hafa will help you get dressed and assist you with anything you may need.”

  Janna stared after him as he strode off down the hall, then turned to Hafa with a polite smile. “Okay, then. Guess we should get back to my room.”

  Chapter 6

  An hour later, Nassir paced the length of the dining room. He’d given the kitchen staff explicit instructions for tonight’s meal. Now all he needed was his dinner guest.

  The door opened and he turned to see Janna enter. She kept her gaze lowered, as if she were nervous, and it allowed him a chance to study every inch of her gorgeous appearance. Hafa had done an excellent job of helping his little American dress the part.

  The skirts of her long, pale blue gown swirled around her ankles like ocean waves, their hue a perfect match for her light azure eyes. Her long blonde hair was artfully styled into a sleek French twist, with a few stray curls left loose to graze her shoulders. Everything about her looked perfect, except for one missing item. “Where is your hijab?”

  “You mean the headpiece your maid wanted me to wear?”

  “Our customs state your head should be covered.”

  “Yes, but I’m only visiting. I’m not from your country. Therefore, I’m not subject to your rules.”

  Rules or not, there were many things he would like to indulge in with her and none of them involved a hijab. Tonight was for them to get to know each other better. There would be plenty of time for her to become acquainted with their customs later. He took her elbow and steered her toward the patio doors once more, wondering when the temperature had risen in the dining room. “Of course. This way, please.”

  They walked out onto the veranda, and she halted, looking around. “I thought we were having dinner?”

  “We are.” He led her around the corner and to a small ramp that climbed into the trees.

  “Up there?” She gave him a skeptical look. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He took her hand and led her up onto the ramp, keeping her beside him in case she stumbled on her high heels. “Be careful.”

  They ascended the ramp and his amusement at her reaction grew. By the time they reached the top and stepped off onto a narrow deck high above the gardens below, her eyes were wide and sparkling and her cheeks were flushed a lovely pink and Nassir couldn’t ever remember seeing a more beautiful sight. Her voice all but vibrated with astonishment. “Wow! A treehouse?”

  “Yes.” Nassir grinned, her excitement contagious.

  “It’s so cool!” Janna grabbed his arm. “Can we go inside?

  “Of course. That is where we are having dinner.” He pushed open the doors, then waited for her to enter. A candles glowed from every available surface and vibrant jewel-toned couches and throw pillows filled small seating areas around the four corners.

  Two male servants and an older chef in white garb stood by another doorway. They bowed when Nassir entered then began preparing for the feast. Nassir escorted Janna to one of the sitting areas and settled them on a soft velvet loveseat of deep sapphire blue.

  Janna gazed around in obvious awe. “This place is amazing.”

  “You have my permission to come here whenever you would like.” She seemed more relaxed tonight and he wanted her to remain that way. A relaxed, happy woman would make a relaxed, happy bride. And a happy bride said yes to her groom’s proposal.

  “Thank you.” Janna smiled. “I appreciate the offer.”

  He was about to respond when his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out to find several messages filling his screen. He’d felt the damned thing vibrate on the way up here, but had thought if he ignored the calls they would stop. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

  “Do you ever take a break from work?” she asked. “You always seem to rush from one emergency to the next.”

  “Work is my escape. My solace from…well, everything. It’s always been this way.”

  “Always? Even when you were little?”

  “No. That is true. But things change. People change.”

  “Or things change people,” Janna replied.

  Nassir narrowed his eyes, “Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her over to a balcony looking over the gardens.

  “You see the grand fountain over there? When I was younger, like most seven year olds, I thought I was invincible. I climbed right to the top and jumped off - pretending to be my favourite superhero. At that age you do not account for short legs or the distance between the tiers of the fountain.”

  She gasped and laid her hand on his forearm. “What happened?”

  “I landed with my leg beneath me on the wall of the bottom fountain. Broken in three places.”

  “Ouch.” Her expression filled with genuine concern. “At least you didn’t have any long term effects from it.”

  “No. Everything healed as it should, but it happened at the beginning of the summer. Which meant I had to stay inside and rest for the next three months. The pain was excruciating. To get my mind off of it, my father suggested I use the time to apply myself to my studies and get ahead of my classmates. He told me that focusing my mind would help me deal with the pain.”

  “Did it work?”

  He nodded. “I completed an entire grade that summer. While I concentrated on my studies, my leg didn’t hurt as much, or perhaps I didn’t think about it hurting so much. Re
gardless, since that time work has always come first.”

  “Sheikh, would you like me to pour the wine now?” one of the servants asked.

  “Yes. Tell the chef he can serve the food then you may all retire for the evening.” Nassir said as they returned to the loveseats.

  Soon, the servants carried out half a dozen plates of food and deposited them around the table, along with two bottles of wine—a fine merlot, dark and sweet. His favorite.

  Nassir led Janna to the table and got her seated then took the spot beside her. He poured them each a glass of wine. Given the fact, she downed hers rather quickly, she seemed to like it as much as he did. He refilled her glass and smiled. “You will want to pace yourself with that. It is much stronger than it seems.”

  “Really?” She wrinkled her nose and took another sip. “It’s good. Tastes like fruit juice.”

  They ate their food and talked about their childhoods and laughed. In fact, he felt so comfortable with her that once they’d had their fill of dinner, he leaned back and placed a hand on Janna’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she turned to him and grinned, the small pink tongue peeking out to wet her full bottom lip. This close, he could stroke her silky soft skin and smell her scent—lemon and spice and warm, clean woman.

  She leaned toward him for a brief second, her lips parted and her eyes half closed, then sat back and shook her head. “I think I need some fresh air.”

  Nassir watched her walk out onto the wraparound deck and lean against the railing as she gazed up at the starry sky.

  He knew he shouldn’t follow her. He should stay inside, stay at the table, and keep things between them as he’d intended— a marriage in name only. A convenience to secure his seat on the board. Nothing more. He followed her anyway.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she said as he stepped in beside her at the railing.

  This close the heat of her penetrated his evening robes and drove him half mad with want. Without a second thought, he reached over and turned her to face him. “You are beautiful. Beautiful as the stars.”