The Sheikh's Secret

by Knight, Kylie

  He also thought it was unfair of his father to imply that Simon’s relationships failed because they were shallow. He’d tried to make Marissa happy. Hadn’t he bought her a ton of expensive gifts? Hadn’t he taken her everywhere she’d wanted to go? Hadn’t they lived an amazing life together? That flirtation with Gretchen was a misstep, true, but a good woman would have heard him out, perhaps given him a hard time — and he admitted he deserved that much; he behaved stupidly when he drank too much — and then made him swear there’d be no more of that nonsense. She wouldn’t have torn into him in front of his friends and then left him like that.

  He ate a little of the fish he’d ordered, but he wasn’t very hungry either, so he pushed it around the plate for a while, feeling sullen and unappreciated. He’d begun to be sorry that he had suggested this trip. He had enough tuxes to go to a dozen weddings, and anyway he didn’t really want to go to this one. A friend of his was marrying one of Simon’s distant cousins, though, and Simon had been asked to be part of the bridal party. He couldn’t very well get out of going.

  But now, with Marissa gone, he didn’t even have a date. Going stag was the worst. He’d have to dance with a bunch of homely cousins, all of whom were looking for husbands. Simon wondered if he could come down with something that would keep him in bed on the day of the wedding. Food poisoning, perhaps, or the plague.

  Not that his mother would allow it. Helena would throw a bucket of cold water on him if he tried to pretend to be sick. She’d done it to him in the past on several occasions, the most notable being the day he tried to get out of going to school to take an exam. She’d forced him to admit that he hadn’t studied, and then made him get dressed and go anyway. He got an F on the exam and when he complained, all she’d said was, “Then perhaps you’ll study next time, yes? You’ll have plenty of time now since you’re grounded for a week.”

  When he complained about how unfair she was being, she’d made it two weeks. He hadn’t tried that again.

  Her mother had left magazines strewn in Eirene’s path since the day she’d re turned home from school. They were filled with glossy photos of Simon Katsaros living it up on his yacht, in night clubs, or on the French Riviera with that skinny girlfriend of his, the Italian model. Welcome home, Eirene, here’s the boy we want you to marry! That was the message, of course. No question. Her mother was a great believer in propaganda. Simon’s picture stared up at her from the breakfast table, tales of his high life waited for her by the pool, and even followed her into the bathroom where a stack of glossy magazines and entertainment rags were piled on top of her more usual travel magazines. Eirene hadn’t seen Simon since she was twelve, but she was sick to death of the sight of him.

  “Oh my, Simon’s girlfriend has walked out on him,” Eirene’s mother, Thea, exclaimed as Eirene walked through the sun room on her way out to the pool.

  “What a surprise,” Eirene replied.

  “I’m sure the poor boy could use some comforting.”

  “Rebound relationships don’t ever work out well,” she said as she picked up a bottle of sun screen. “I wish his next woman luck.”

  “Eirene, don’t you care one little bit?” Thea asked her.

  “About Simon Katsaros? Mom the number of effs I give can be counted on the negative digits.”

  “You know, the Katsaros family and the Dimitrios family planned for the two of you to be married one day.”

  Tcha, sure, like that’ll happen, Eirene thought. To Thea she said, “Yes, Mom, I do know that. Thank God the days of selling your daughter to the highest bidder have not yet come to an end. What would happen to the economy? I’m going out for a swim.”

  “Don’t forget the sun block!” Thea called after her and Eirene waved the bottle in the air.

  Telling her parents that this marriage wasn’t going to happen hadn’t helped, so after a number of frustrating years, Eirene had opted for sarcasm which Thea didn’t get, but which Eirene’s father actually appreciated even if he didn’t accept what it was she was saying. He’d laugh and say, “You’re your father’s daughter all right,” And almost with the same breath, he’d say, “I hope Simon likes sarcasm.”

  “The field where my fucks grow is barren,” she muttered as she stepped out of her sandals and stood at the edge of the pool, head tipped back, drinking in the sunlight. “I have not one to give.”

  She dove in, cutting neatly through the clear, clean water. She loved swimming, loved being in the water. Sometimes she floated on the surface of the pool, eyes closed. Paul called her his Nayad, his elemental water spirit. He loved the way her black hair would float around her head like a halo, though he’d make some sort of obscure reference to a nimbus or to some species of seaweed. Never twice the same obscure reference. It was a little tiring.

  Still, she loved him… or at least she liked him a lot, respected his intellect, and sensed that they had enough in common (including reasonably good sex) that they could build a fine, professional life together. She often imagined the two of them traveling around the world, living out of their suitcases. She’d photograph everything, and he would write about it in his, frankly a little florid style. She wished he was a bit more influenced by writers like Mark Twain, and less by ones like Henry James, but Paul was Paul. He was an original.

  They’d already been to Italy and Turkey together, though she hadn’t actually told her parents that she’d gone there with him. She’d implied that she was traveling with a female school friend. It was just easier than imagining what her mother’s face would look like if she thought her twenty-two year old daughter was no longer a virgin. What would that do to the bride price? Eirene giggled and slipped under the water again.

  When she surfaced, she caught sight of her older sister, Rhea, standing beside the pool. “What are you doing?” she shouted at Eirene.

  “Swimming. It’s what you do when you propel yourself through water recreationally.”

  “Ha ha… I’ve been waiting in the driveway for you. We were supposed to go pick up our dresses this morning.”

  “Oh… darn, I’m sorry.” Eirene climbed out of the pool and toweled herself off. “Give me ten minutes.”

  “You can’t go with wet hair,” Rhea insisted, following Eirene back into the house.

  “Give me ten minutes! And don’t follow me!” She ran upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom, hoping Rhea wouldn’t come up and bother her while she was dressing. In the end, it took her twelve minutes to throw her clothes on, pull her long hair into a ponytail, and blow dry the tail just enough that it would pass Rhea’s critical gaze.

  Rhea was incredibly tense about this wedding. It was her first matron-of-honor gig and she seemed to think that was dramatically different than maid-of-honor, or bridesmaid, or any other position in the bridal party, all of which she’d held many times. When Eirene pointed that out to her she gave her a that’s-how-much-you-know look.

  Nicki, the bride, had very nearly asked Eirene to stand up with her too, but she’d already invited eight of her friends, sisters, and cousins to serve as bridesmaids, her best friend to be her maid-of-honor, and Rhea as matron, and there wasn’t going to be enough room for the bridal party at the front of the church if this wedding got any bigger. Eirene had jokingly made Nicki promise to think of her next time she got married. Nicki had looked horrified.

  Secretly she was glad not to have to stand up. She didn’t like weddings and the only reason she was going was that Nicki was a cousin and she’d never hear the end of it if she tried to opt out. Fortunately Paul was her Plus One, and she figured they’d have a good time together, though Paul wasn’t big on dancing. Or on parties in general. And he wasn’t Greek, which meant he would know anyone but Eirene, wouldn’t be able to talk to most of them, and would be glared at by her parents the whole night. Still, she’d try to make sure he enjoyed himself.

  Rhea was in the car, staring pointedly at her watch when Eirene jumped in beside her. “Twelve minutes. Sue me.”

  �
�Honestly, you’re even more irresponsible than before you went away to school.”

  “Rhea, it slipped my mind, okay? Don’t be such a jerk.”

  “It’s that boy.”

  “When did you turn into Yia-Yia?” Eirene demanded. “You talk like an old woman and you’re only four years older than I am.”

  Rhea launched into a litany of Eirene’s sins, but Eirene refused to rise to the bait. She stared out the window and thought about what she was going to do with her life once she’d finished her graduate degree. She had hoped to go on and do her doctorate in Ancient History, but Paul, who was hoping to make a name for himself as a travel journalist, wanted to devote some serious time to travel, so she decided to put off her plans to support him. There was never any problem about traveling, it always enriched and broadened one’s life, she told herself. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t go for the degree any time. In fact, there was nothing stopping her from writing her own, first-hand accounts of her investigation of ancient sites. She might not even need a doctorate if she followed Paul’s lead and began to be published.

  “Are you not listening to me?”

  “Not at all,” Eirene admitted. “I’ve heard all this a million times. Has it changed me in any way? No. Why don’t you save your breath, Rhea? And by the way, it’s not all about Paul. This is my life and I’m going to lead it however I want. And if Mama and Papa haven’t been able to change my mind, what makes you think you can?”

  Rhea’s jaw clenched and she stared straight ahead. She didn’t say another word for the entire drive.

  The dress more than made up for the unpleasantness in the car. It was a full-length silk sheath, as blue as Eirene’s eyes, and shot with gold. It was simple, elegant, and Eirene loved it. Even Rhea approved.

  “Ugh, my dress is so mother-of-the-bride,” Rhea complained. “Poor Nicki has no taste.”

  That was something they could agree on. The bridesmaids’ dresses were even worse.

  “Let’s have some lunch,” Rhea suggested. “There’s a nice place a couple of doors down.”

  “Promise you won’t lecture me,” Eirene told her.

  “I swear. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Eirene doubted that, but she agreed.

  Over lunch Rhea told her that she and her husband were moving to Berlin later in the year.

  “What? Have you told Mama and Papa?”

  “Not yet.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to. It’s another reason why I’m worried about your plans to go off to god-knows-where this year.”

  “Why are you moving though?”

  “Taki is being transferred. Honestly, if it was up to me…” she let the thought trail off.

  Eirene laid her hand over her sister’s. “It’ll be fine. You’ll have a wonderful time there.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll come visit. I’ve always wanted to see Berlin.”

  Rhea patted her hand. “You always make me feel better. I’ll miss you.”

  “You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Eirene promised. She was surprised at how much it bothered her to think of Rhea and Taki living so far away. Rhea was so much a part of home. To not be able to hop in the car and drive over to see her was upsetting.

  Later, when she was getting ready for bed, Eirene remembered that Taki’s boss was Nick Katsaros, and the whole Katsaros family would be at Nicki’s wedding. What would happen, she wondered, if she cornered Katsaros and asked him to reconsider the transfer. Would he even know what she was talking about? Katsaros and Matthias Dimitrios were business partners and friends, but would he know Taki as anything more than Rhea’s husband? Would he even remember who Rhea was?

  Still, it couldn’t hurt, she decided. Just a few words, a simple request to see if Taki couldn’t be spared. Without any penalty, of course. She didn’t want her interference to cost him anything. She’d have to make that clear. She’d even dance with his odious son if it would warm the old man up a little, get him to see her as a potential daughter-in-law the way the families had long planned. She wasn’t above it if it would help her sister stay close to the family.

  On the morning of the wedding, Eirene and Rhea had their hair done and got manicures. Rhea had a lot to do so they parted company after an early lunch, and Eirene did a little shopping before she returned home. Paul was there waiting for her, looking fretful.

  “Where were you?” he demanded. I told you I’d be here by one.”

  “And I told you it would take me until at least two to get back. You don’t listen.”

  “And you don’t respect my time.”

  “Paul, I told you when I’d be home. You chose to ignore me.”

  “Your family hates me,” he said. He looked miserable and she thawed a little.

  “No, they don’t. They just don’t know you.”

  “I hate this city,” he said.

  She sighed. “Why don’t we have a drink by the pool? It’ll relax you. “We’ll be leaving here about five, so I’ll still have time to dress.”

  “Why don’t we just go upstairs?” he asked, slipping an arm around her waist. Was he asking what she thought he was asking?

  “Uh… Paul, this is my parents’ home. You’re not coming upstairs with me.”

  “Don’t be such a prude. Who cares anymore?”

  “My parents, that’s who. And if you think they dislike you now, you cannot begin to imagine what my father would think of you if he found you in my bedroom.” Or what he might do to you, she added silently. But the bottom line was that she respected her parents and their rules. She’d never even think about doing what Paul was suggesting.

  She fixed him a gin and tonic and got him calmed down.

  The wedding was everything Eirene expected. It was big, loud, lavish, and filled with relatives who asked her personal questions without a second thought. Paul enjoyed the ceremony, but ruined it by explaining to everyone who would listen that he was a student of religious rituals, and talking about how it compared to various other ceremonies. Guests who were willing to cut him slack for not being Greek ran in the other direction when he began to discuss the deeper meaning of Orthodox rituals.

  “So he’s nice to look at,” Nicki observed, “but does he ever draw a breath?”

  “He has good qualities,” Eirene replied, knowing how lame it sounded.

  “Well let’s hope that includes being great in bed.”

  Eirene smiled in a manner that she hoped implied that everything was great in that area, but couldn’t bring herself to lie outright. It wasn’t great, it was adequate. But adequate was all she expected. She’d long felt that the whole cosmic sex thing was a myth. No one she knew ever talked about how the earth had moved or even about their men ensuring they had a good time every time. She wasn’t stupid; she got that sex was more often than not a commodity to be traded for security, and sometimes she thought that she’d taken up with Paul because she had absolutely no illusions about him. It was a nice, low-key relationship based on mutual interests.

  Still, it would have been nice if he’d made more of an effort. When she tried to get him to dance, he flat-out refused. Well, if he thought she’d just sit there and watch the way he was doing, he was mistaken. If he wouldn’t dance with her, she’d find someone else. The room was filled with her cousins. One of them would be willing.

  She was dancing with Nikos, a distant cousin on her mother’s side, a mining engineer who had recently been working in South America, when another man cut in, and swept her away before Nikos could tell her about the difficulty of extracting… whatever it was he’d been talking about.

  “I thought I’d save you from my cousin,” the stranger said. Except he wasn’t exactly a stranger. He looked so familiar. Probably a cousin. “He’s a great guy, but when he gets started in on mining, it’s all I can do to stay awake. “You’re Christ Dimitrios’ daughter, right?”

  “Eirene, yes.”

  He smiled and she realized that she was dancing with Simon Katsar
os. No one else had a smile like that. Up close it was staggering.

  “You know we’re sort of unofficially engaged,” he told her.

  “I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that subject.”

  He laughed and she hated it that it excited her, hated that she found him attractive with his black curls and eyes the color of old cognac. She was swept away by his beauty which the newspaper and magazine photos didn’t come close to capturing. She knew she was staring so she looked away.

  “I remember you being about five feet tall and knock-kneed,” he told her.

  “High heels and a long dress help a lot.”

  “You don’t know how to take a compliment.”

  “I didn’t hear one.”

  He laughed again. “Fair enough. What I should have said was that you’re far more beautiful than I recall.”

  “So are you.”

  “Good genes,” he replied, and she knew it was true. Helena Katsaros was stunning.

  “Now who doesn’t know how to take a compliment?”

  “My parents taught me to be modest.”

  “With your media coverage?” she asked. “Please. Pull the other one.”

  “Are you here with anyone? I mean other than family. I saw Christ and Thea earlier.”

  “I have a date, yes.”

  “I don’t. I’m supposed to be squiring around one of the bridesmaids, but she’s already disappeared.”