The Secret of the Sheikh's Betrothed

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The Secret of the Sheikh's Betrothed Page 15

by Felicitas Ivey


  “You are kind to one who is a stranger to you,” Ikraam said, humbly bowing to him. “However, your grandfather won’t be charitable to me after what I tell him. I just hope he will shelter Sabah. I fear for her life, knowing the anger Bahiyya will have after I foil her schemes.”

  With that, he went into the harem and closed the door firmly behind him. Rayyan’s naïve assurances weren’t something he wanted to hear. The man was innocent in a way, to think his grandfather wouldn’t be furious with him when Ikraam told him the truth. This lie had been going on too long, though, and it had to stop.

  He walked to the room he was sharing with Sabah, knocked on the door to the bathing room, and announced, “I’m alone and safe.”

  Sabah opened the door and rushed into his arms. “I was so worried about you!” She tilted her head back and looked at him. “You’re unveiled!”

  “Your mother thought I was more intimate with Sheikh Fathi than I had been. She wanted to check her suspicions.”

  “She thought you kissed him!”

  Ikraam sighed. “Bahiyya doesn’t think the best of me.”

  Sabah sniffed but then noticed the dark stains on his thawb. “You’re hurt.”

  “The blood isn’t mine,” Ikraam assured her. “It’s… it’s Ghalib’s.”

  “Ghalib’s?” Sabah’s voice was high, either from shock or surprise. “Are you hurt?”

  “I opened up his arm to defend myself,” Ikraam explained. “He was so surprised I did that, I was able to get away.”

  He wasn’t going to tell Sabah her mother had encouraged Ghalib with his liberties on his person.

  “And I knew you would come back here,” Bahiyya said, striding into the room. “That you wouldn’t do the smart thing and run away.”

  “Where would I run to?” Ikraam asked tiredly. He should have known his sister would be here. “Sabah—”

  “Don’t be foolish, sister. What would I do to my own daughter?” Bahiyya asked in a poisonously honeyed voice.

  Ikraam didn’t say anything but turned to face her, placing his body in front of Sabah’s. “Sheikh Fathi knows the truth, Bahiyya.”

  Bahiyya stopped and shook her head. “That was foolish.”

  “It was,” Ikraam agreed easily. At least Bahiyya wasn’t asking what truth, but she was taking the news too calmly. He had seen her rage when he made her coffee incorrectly. Her composure was putting him on edge. “Since I was using it to convince him to marry Sabah.”

  “But she can’t marry until all my sisters are,” Bahiyya cooed.

  “Which would matter if I was your sister,” Ikraam snapped. “But Sheikh Fathi knows the truth. And I’m walking out of here with Sabah to tell the amir. Don’t think you can stop us.”

  “I think there will be a tragic accident instead,” Bahiyya said thoughtfully, ignoring what he had just said. “The shame was too much for you. You threw yourself from the balcony.”

  “Then you will be shocked to find out I was a man?” Ikraam asked. He thought in a fight, he might be able to defend himself against her. “I don’t think the amir will believe you.”

  He didn’t add he knew Fathi wouldn’t believe her. And as if thinking about the man made him appear, Fathi walked in behind Bahiyya. Ikraam’s knees went weak. Fathi might not believe he was a hero, but Ikraam felt his mere presence was a rescue. He wanted to throw himself into Fathi’s arms and never have the man let him go.

  “Are you all right?” Fathi asked.

  Bahiyya shrieked and jumped at the sound of his voice. She recovered quickly, though. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my grandfather’s house,” Fathi said with a tight smile. “Or do you mean what am I doing in the harem? I am simply checking on how my betrothed is. Since Ikraam had that terrible incident earlier, I would be remiss if I didn’t.”

  “You are kind,” Ikraam whispered. “I am fine.”

  “I got to hit Ghalib again.” Fathi savored the memory. “And right now he’s being escorted to the stables and sent on his way with a skin full of water and nothing else.”

  “Thank you,” Ikraam said, bowing deeply. “I am grateful.”

  “And in the morning, Grandfather wants to talk to all of you,” Fathi added.

  Ikraam bowed again. “I look forward to talking to him.”

  Bahiyya’s gaze took in the two of them. “Oh-so-cozy, now you know the truth?” she demanded.

  “While I’m not happy about this turn of events,” Fathi said, “that is what I will only discuss with Ikraam. In the morning when we both have gotten some rest. We are both too tired to make the correct decision.”

  “You would still—” Bahiyya’s words stopped under Fathi’s cold stare.

  Ikraam was impressed since even Hashim hadn’t been able to stop her like that. A shiver went through him, half fear and half lust. Or maybe all lust. It was stupid and wonderful at the same time.

  “I suggest you spend the night far away from Ikraam and Sabah. If anything happens to either one of them…,” Fathi continued with a tight smile.

  Bahiyya sniffed and sailed past him with her nose in the air.

  Ikraam sank to the floor, leaning against the wall. “I feel like I have run for miles.”

  But he wanted another kind of release. Part of the reason his nighttime ramblings had started was because of the overactive lusts of a teenaged boy. At night he had some privacy to indulge in them. He also enjoyed the freedom of being out from under his sister’s control. Later, when his body grew older, his passions had damped down to nothing, thankfully. But now, in the last few days, he felt like he was fourteen again. His manhood often hardened at the thought of Fathi, and at times like this, became painfully erect. Ikraam was being well punished for the lie he had told Fathi and his family.

  “You’ve had a long night,” Fathi said kindly. “And much has happened. That is why you are tired.”

  “I still want to sleep behind a locked door,” Sabah said. “I like them.”

  Fathi smiled at her. “I promise you that you won’t need one, but if that is what you need to feel safe, I’m not insulted.”

  “Is there a way for the harem to be locked from the inside?” Sabah asked.

  “Just the bedrooms,” Fathi said. “I will leave you to settle for the night.”

  “Sheikh Fathi?” Ikraam said. He didn’t want him to go.

  “I was serious when I told your sister I wanted to wait until morning to talk about what we should do,” Fathi told him.

  “I understand,” Ikraam murmured, bowing his head. “It’s just….”

  He didn’t know how to put into words what he was feeling. And should he? Fathi might be willing to go through with this lie, but treat him as a brother and not a wife. Would he be able to do that? Ikraam didn’t think he could live a chaste life with Fathi. He would eventually let him know of the lust he had for him. Then this kind man would turn away from him in disgust. However, before that, he might find some measure of happiness with him.

  “I wished to thank you for hitting Ghalib,” Ikraam said in a rush, climbing to his feet. “No one has ever bothered to do something like that for me.”

  Fathi looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t do much. You did a lot more damage to him than I did.”

  Ikraam flushed. “That was only good fortune that allowed it to happen. I was lucky.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to be ‘lucky,’” Fathi growled. He took a deep breath. “We can talk in the morning.”

  With that he turned and walked out of the harem. If Ikraam didn’t know better, he would have sworn Fathi was running away from him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  FATHI wasn’t too proud to admit he was running away from Ikraam. He had almost kissed the man a second ago! Ikraam didn’t need someone else pawing him after the night he had just been through. And had Ikraam’s distaste been for Ghalib or for men? Was there any way for him to tactfully ask Ikraam that and get an honest answer out of him?

  Fathi was under n
o illusions; Ikraam would do anything to protect Sabah, including marrying him. But Fathi didn’t just want a marriage of convenience because of something that had happened over twenty years ago. He wanted what he had seen in his parents’ marriage, the love and the laughter that had always surrounded them. Fathi didn’t expect that right away, but he wanted it with Ikraam.

  The man’s quiet strength was amazing. He had managed to keep a kind heart, even living with that harridan of a sister. Ikraam had also managed to remain male in a way Fathi couldn’t even describe. He may be veiled and isolated like he was truly in a sheikh’s harem, but Ikraam was a man and Fathi wanted him more than anyone he had ever met. He was afraid his good sense would be drowned out by the need to take Ikraam as his. He wanted to keep Ikraam here, as his, protected and cherished in ways Ikraam had never been before. But was that what Ikraam wanted?

  Fathi walked to his room, resisting the urge to pace in the garden all night. He needed to rest. Because he was going to need all his strength to talk Ikraam out of exposing Bahiyya’s lie to his grandfather. He was very willing to marry Ikraam. He was even willing to do so in America to make it legal. However, was he a coward to want to wait until after the marriage to tell Grandfather Ikraam was a man? And that he was gay? Fathi walked into his room, lost in thought. He started getting undressed, puzzling about how he was going to work all this out.

  “Ikraam is a nice girl,” Rayyan said.

  Fathi twitched, unaware his brother had been in the room with him. He dropped his thawb on the floor, aware he was standing around in just his underwear.

  “Very proper,” Rayyan continued. “And she has a very large cat. You’re going to have to be wary of him. I would worry more about him than the knives she carries.”

  “Ikraam—” Fathi started.

  “And we’re going to have to do something about Sabah,” Rayyan said. “Even with Ghalib gone, I don’t trust her mother not to betroth her to another one like him.”

  “How much has Ikraam told you?” Fathi asked.

  Rayyan looked at him, a small smile on his face. “It’s late, so I won’t tease you. She hasn’t said much. Just that she thinks Sabah would be a better bride for you.” Rayyan seemed to sober, then asked, “Do you know the reason for this?”

  Fathi nodded. “I do.”

  “That’s what you’re supposed to say to Ikraam during the ceremony,” Rayyan teased.

  “It’s no joke,” Fathi snapped.

  “Do you think you’re going to be able to get out of the marriage at this late date?” Rayyan asked. “Maybe, just maybe, you could have done it when Grandfather first mentioned marriage. But now? The bride is here! Whatever you’re going to tell him isn’t going to change his mind.”

  “Grandfather thinks he owes Muna and his family some sort of life debt,” Fathi said. “He thinks he can repay it by having me marry Ikraam, and that’s so I can ‘take care’ of him. Well, there are a lot more ways than that to take care of people. I think I can do that without getting married.”

  “You said ‘him,’” Rayyan blurted out.

  Fathi looked at his brother in horror. He hadn’t meant to tell him that! He was overtired if he was making that big a mistake. He needed to keep Ikraam’s sex a secret, since Ikraam might not want to be exposed.

  “Wishful thinking,” Fathi lied.

  Rayyan looked at him, obviously not entirely believing his lie but not wanting to argue with him.

  “It’s late or early,” Fathi said. “And we aren’t both naïve enough to believe the morning isn’t going to come too soon. We’re going to need all our wits to deal with Grandfather, so we should get some sleep.”

  “Grandfather will be fine,” Rayyan said. “He went back to bed almost as soon as he gave his orders about Ghalib.”

  “I more worried about what he’s going to do about Hashim,” Fathi said. “That man couldn’t stand against Grandfather on his best day. Grandfather, when he’s so insulted about what happened here last night between Ghalib and Ikraam? He’s going to flay the man alive with his tongue, and Hashim won’t even know he’s dead until three days later.”

  Rayyan grimaced at the imagery, even as he nodded his agreement. He walked to the door. “I will see you at breakfast, then.” He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Given Ikraam’s resources, you should probably be honest with her about why you don’t want to marry. It will make your life easier. Plus she won’t think the problem is her.”

  With that said, he left. Fathi stared at the door, thinking Rayyan had placed faint emphasis on the word “her.” Had Rayyan believed his lie? Was he so tired his mind was playing tricks on him? But Rayyan was right, he did need to be honest with Ikraam. And not because the man had a leopard to send after him if he angered Ikraam, but because it was the right thing to do.

  FATHI went to bed, but he spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. He wanted Ikraam. But he should let him end this marriage if he wanted to. He would still protect him and Sabah. Fathi just wondered if he could convince Grandfather to let them live with him. They wouldn’t be great-grandchildren for him to spoil, but they would be someone for him to look after. He just had to convince Grandfather this would fulfill the obligation he had to the tribe of din Abdel. Bahiyya wouldn’t be an issue, since they would be out of her life, and he doubted she would be able to cause much trouble for them. People like Bahiyya were always trouble, but she could be trouble to other people now.

  Fathi showered and dressed, surprised he now felt at ease in a thawb. He would have to wear them more often, maybe even to the office. He felt good as he made his way to the harem. He’d see if Ikraam was all right and talk to him. Once their decision was made, he’d talk to Grandfather. He was sure Hashim wasn’t willing to deal with Grandfather at all, so skipping the meeting they had with him this morning, while rude, would be welcomed by him.

  However, his good feelings fled when he went into the harem and saw Grandfather and Ikraam together. And Ikraam was unveiled.

  Chapter Seventeen

  IKRAAM had a hard time sleeping. He felt lighter than air since he finally told Fathi his secret, but what kept him awake was his racing mind. What was Fathi going to say to him? Even with both of them overtired, they still should have talked. Ikraam was certain Fathi wasn’t getting any more sleep than he was, but Ikraam wasn’t going to roam around the fort at night looking for his intended.

  The dawn was breaking when Ikraam got up and showered. Thankfully, Sabah slept through it, snuggled under the covers, so all he saw of her was a bit of her hair. It was too early for food to have been brought, but Ikraam carefully made coffee. He sat down on the balcony, having the sun dry his hair before he braided it again. He was dressed in a faded red thawb that should be in the rag pile and not on his body. It was the last clean one he had. Not what he wanted to wear meeting with Fathi’s grandfather, but it was clean.

  Ikraam enjoyed the morning air while wondering what he was supposed to do next. He couldn’t carry on as if nothing had happened. He had drawn Ghalib’s blood. There probably was some sort of penalty for that, if the man wished to pursue it. However, Ghalib wouldn’t want it to be known a mere woman had bested him. Ikraam smiled. Whatever tale Ghalib was going to spin to explain his injury would be an amusing one. Ikraam shook his head, putting that problem aside. Ghalib didn’t matter; it was Fathi who mattered.

  Ikraam would admit he was more than attracted to the man. He hadn’t felt such passion about anything but his work before. He wanted Fathi to possess every inch of him, to take him and show him the heights of passion that he had only heard whispered about in the women’s quarters as they talked about their husbands. Ikraam was half-hard thinking about Fathi, and if he could, would spend time alone indulging in fantasies of Fathi doing all manner of things with him.

  But that was not to be, because his intended needed to marry Sabah, a proper woman who would give him sons. All Ikraam could give him was his heart. He had never hated being a man more than he did now.
It denied him many things in his life, but he had learned to live with that. Having his manhood stop him from loving the one he wanted…. Bahiyya would be amused by how thoroughly miserable he was.

  Lost in his thoughts, Ikraam didn’t hear the door to the harem open. He was unaware anyone was with him until he heard a voice behind him.

  “I have always enjoyed mornings out here.”

  Ikraam shrieked and bowed his head. “Amir, I apologize for my rudeness.”

  “It is I who should beg pardon of you, invading what should be a private area,” the amir said. “And you are to marry my grandson. I would be honored if you called me Grandfather.”

  Ikraam held his arms in front of his face as he turned and bowed. “This is your house. I am just a guest under your roof.”

  “I am as guilty as Fathi for bothering you here,” Grandfather said. “I truly wanted—”

  “Sheikh Fathi was a polite and thoughtful guest,” Ikraam protested.

  “And it was romantic for him to sneak into the harem to catch a look at his bride,” Grandfather said lightly.

  “And it was romantic,” Ikraam agreed with a smile. He lowered his arms so they weren’t blocking his face. “But—”

  The amir looked confused and a little bit horrified at his gesture, but before he could say anything, Sabah interrupted.

  “Ikraam, are you all right?” she asked, carrying Ikraam’s knife awkwardly. “I heard you scream.”

  “Sabah, I was just startled,” Ikraam said. “Please go back and get dressed, and please bring me a veil.”

  He found he wasn’t comfortable unveiled around a man. He walked over and took the knife from Sabah. She stared at the amir in horror for a second before she fled.

  “I have been remiss,” Ikraam said to the amir, turning back to him as he casually set the knife down. “Would you like some coffee? I know how the machine works.” He smiled. “I find it a lot easier than making coffee over a fire.”

 

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