Sheikhs of Hamari: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  Ryan went around the circle twice more.

  “Miss Fisher?” Chakir called.

  It took her a minute, because he hardly ever called her that. What was happening?

  “Yes?”

  “We need one more person to play a part in the crowd.”

  She went and took her place, heart thudding in a slow, nervous beat inside her chest. There was no wink from Chakir, no grazing touch as she passed by…nothing. Formality at its height. It felt strange, after all the kisses they’d stolen from each other.

  Well, she wasn’t going to let this go on.

  At the very next break, she caught Chakir by the elbow. “Come walk with me in the garden.” He had asked her to the gardens once, early on. Now she could return the favor.

  He narrowed his eyes. “The garden? You want to go to the garden?” He looked at his watch. “We only have a few minutes.”

  “I only want a few minutes.”

  “Fine.”

  She waited until they were well away from the palace doors before she spoke. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Chakir. We only have a few minutes.” She stopped in the center of the path and faced him. “It’s obvious that something has you on edge.”

  His eyes searched hers, and Hannah’s stomach dropped. She had a fleeting vision of being packed onto a plane back to the States, bundled off before the evening was over. But that couldn’t be it.

  “I had a meeting with the elders this morning. They’re not happy.” Chakir took her through the meeting in a few clipped sentences, fire in his eyes.

  By the time he finished speaking, she felt that same fire in the center of her chest. “That’s absurd.”

  “It’s not absurd. It’s tradition.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I need to make sure their thoughts are respected.”

  “Some traditions are absurd,” she pointed out. “And what about your thoughts? Your thoughts and opinions should be respected in this process. You’ve gone out of your way to respect mine.”

  “It’s causing more displeasure than I anticipated.”

  Hannah looked him in the eye. “Whose displeasure is so important that it’s putting you on the defensive? It can’t be these six old men.”

  “They’re part of it.”

  “How big a part?” Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and waited. “Because you’ve gone from enjoying the tutoring sessions to making this one a stressful boot camp. You don’t have to do that, Chakir. You can stop being polite and take charge when something doesn’t suit you. Show the elders that the changes we’ve made are good ones.”

  He used one finger to brush a loose bit of hair behind her ear. His gaze traveled downward, and he wet his lips.

  She waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello. Earth to Chakir. We’re talking about the elders here.”

  “I’m not with the elders,” insisted Chakir. “I’m with you. I would like to make some changes.”

  The instant the words crossed his lips, the tension fled Chakir’s shoulders. Now wasn’t the time to decide anything. Now was the time to focus on Hannah, and he’d figure everything else out when his head was clear.

  What better way to clear his head than a little distraction?

  He didn’t want answers from her. He wanted a few minutes away from the tattletale beat of his meeting with the elders. That was all.

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. “What changes?”

  “First…” Chakir stepped closer. “You’re standing too far away.”

  “Too far away? I think if I get any closer, we’ll be breaking with tradition—”

  “One of our traditions is courtesy,” Chakir said. He gave a courtly bow. “May I put my arm around your waist, Miss Fisher?”

  Her big green eyes sparkled. “Yes, Sheikh Chakir.”

  He swept her toward him, closing the space between them in an instant. “May I kiss the side of your neck? I love the side of your neck.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “Please do.”

  He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, and Hannah made a humming sound low in her throat.

  “Oh, that’s very impolite,” she said.

  “Is it?” He straightened up, and Hannah tugged his face back down to her neck. “What’s impolite about it?”

  “Is it polite to say that it’s not enough?”

  “This isn’t enough?” He slid his free hand down, down, down until he’d found the hem of her dress and slipped beneath it. “How about this?” He brushed his fingertips against her thigh. Hannah shivered. “This?”

  “Not enough,” she said breathlessly.

  He clicked his tongue, then licked a slow curl at the line of her jaw. “You are being quite impolite, Miss Fisher. What are we to do about that?”

  “I don’t know. Tell me what rules I’m breaking,” she said.

  “You’re out here in the garden with me, and yet…” He cupped her through the thin fabric of her panties, and Hannah moaned. “You haven’t come once.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to. I only had the sight of you to get me going.”

  “Ah. It seems like that was enough.” Chakir stroked her through the damp silk. “Quite enough.”

  “It was enough for before. Not for now. I need…”

  He didn’t break the rhythm of his stroking. It was bold, doing this right out in the garden, but Chakir couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t drag himself back into the shadows. And he was being very, very polite.

  Hannah leaned her head against his shoulder. From a distance, it might look like they were only embracing. Such a dirty pleasure, in plain sight. If word got back to the elders about this…

  Well, they couldn’t say he’d bucked all the traditions.

  Chakir dragged the pad of his thumb lazily around Hannah’s clit. “We don’t have much time,” he said against her hair. “They’ll be expecting us. And it’s so impolite to be late.”

  “I can’t—”

  Her breath came faster, ragged, and then she arched back against his arm. Chakir bent to kiss her, catching her cries between his lips. A minute later, flushed and smiling, Hannah opened her eyes, and her gaze met his. “Oh, that—that was polite of you, Sheikh Chakir. Very considerate.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Fisher.”

  “Do you feel any better?” She bit her lip, then stepped away to straighten her dress. “By the looks of it, I haven’t done my part.”

  This was true. Chakir was on the verge of an explosion.

  “We’re in the garden,” he choked out. “And we’d be late.”

  Hannah took his hand and tugged him into a narrow alley under an archway of flowers. “Now we’re hidden in the garden.” She sank to her knees. “And you underestimate me.”

  “I would never underestimate you.” The sight of her on her knees in front of him, staring up at him with those enormous emerald eyes, made him want to burn every rulebook in Hamari. Perhaps the rest of the world, too. “Now, do your best, Miss Fisher. It would only be polite.”

  15

  Hannah stared at the ceiling above her bed.

  The alarm was due to go off in a few minutes, but she didn’t move to turn it off. She let her mind wander over the sensation of the soft sheets against her legs and the blanket above it. Down the hall, she could hear Ryan laughing. The nanny was already with him for the morning. A twist of guilt shuddered through her chest. They’d been in Hamari for several weeks, and Hannah still wasn’t quite used to the fact that she had help.

  She and Ryan had been alone for so long. It had been a struggle, but what good would it have done to dwell on it? There was nobody in her life who could step in and offer any kind of relief. Now that she had it, it almost seemed wrong to rely on it.

  But he had soccer practice, and Hannah had plans for the same time.

  Her thoughts shifted to Chakir, like they always did.

  Her little pep talk from the day b
efore hadn’t gone according to plan. He hadn’t actually agreed to be more assertive with the elders. What they’d said was ridiculous. Chakir couldn’t be expected to follow traditions at everyone’s expense, especially Ryan’s. But how was she supposed to steer him in that direction? Could she steer him in that direction?

  She stretched, remembering his talented fingers between her legs. At least one part of the conversation had been a success.

  Nadima breezed into the room just as Hannah’s alarm began to ring, and the other woman was around the bed, switching it off in an instant. “I see you’re up already. Good morning, Miss Fisher.”

  “Hannah,” she said automatically.

  “Hannah.” Nadima shook her head. “The things you choose to insist on are so amusing…Hannah.”

  Hannah waved her off. “I’m not a princess. You don’t have to treat me like one every second of the day.”

  Nadima made a tsk sound and headed for the walk-in closet. “You might not have a title, but that’s no reason not to afford you the respect due the mother of a prince.”

  “It seems wrong,” Hannah called after her. “To let that happen, when I’m not…when I’m not really part of the family.”

  Nadima came out of the closet with several outfits draped over her arms. “For your tea, with the women of the tribe,” she said pointedly.

  “I remember the tea date.” Hannah had set it up herself with some of the mothers from Ryan’s birthday party. “But that still doesn’t make me part of the family.”

  Nadima shot her a look. “Who do you think you’ll be representing at tea?”

  “Myself,” Hannah admitted. “I’m not really—”

  “Are you the same Hannah who has been living here for weeks now?” Nadima cocked her head to the side. “You’re not the kind of person to let nerves get the best of her.”

  Hannah hopped out of bed, and Nadima spread out the outfits at the foot. “I’m not letting nerves get the best of anything.” This was not strictly true. “I’m only saying, I shouldn’t have a person helping me choose outfits.”

  “I’m not doing my job satisfactorily?”

  “That’s not what I meant at all.”

  Hannah tugged at the bedclothes. A hand on her elbow stopped her.

  “Hannah.” Nadima looked into her eyes. “Helping you is my job. It’s your job to let me do it. Step away from the bed and come choose an outfit.”

  The two women moved to the foot of the bed.

  “I’d go with the floral dress,” Nadima said. “It’s formal without being overbearing. I think it’ll fit in well with what the guests will be wearing, while still following royal custom.”

  Hannah bit her lip.

  “And whether you are a member of the royal family or not—and I happen to think that you count as one, given that your son is a prince—it is still my duty to help you meet your obligations in the best way possible. That includes helping you choose clothes. And reminding you that tea is a leisurely event. You don’t have to eat fast, like an American.”

  Hannah laughed at the other woman’s gentle teasing.

  She had never stopped to consider that by putting up a fuss about Nadima’s help, she was getting in the way of the other woman doing her job.

  Was she doing the same thing with Chakir by pushing him to buck tradition?

  Hannah had spent her life blazing forward, making a living at any cost, but here in Hamari she wasn’t the one steering the ship.

  “I’ll do better, Nadima,” she promised. “I’ll…relax. About all this. At least, I’ll try. And in the meantime, I’ll wear the dress with the flowers.”

  Open mind. She had to keep an open mind.

  Hannah was still nervous about going to tea, but the conversation with Nadima had shifted something in her mind. She had to think of herself as part of the workings of the royal family. The other women would help her with that.

  “That little party for Ryan was so lovely, Hannah,” Karina said as they settled in, Fatima pouring the tea and Raisa smiling at her from the other side of the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to an American party at the palace before.”

  “Sheikh Chakir certainly hadn’t,” chimed in Raisa. “The look on his face!”

  “I did take him by surprise,” admitted Hannah. “But it was Ryan’s birthday. He needed a cake.”

  “Don’t we know it,” said Karina. “It can be hard, the royal lifestyle. Not that we know all the details, but…”

  It took Hannah a moment to clock the pregnant silence. “There aren’t too many details to give,” she said. “Since Ryan and I have arrived, it’s mostly been tutoring sessions and learning how to navigate Hamari traditions.”

  “So overwhelming,” said Raisa.

  “It’s been all right. But working with Chakir is…” Heat rushed to Hannah’s cheeks, and she felt it in the air—the other women had seen. “Well, he likes to be in charge. And I like to change things. But I don’t want to spend all my time debating him.”

  “The key, obviously, is to make him think it’s his idea.” Fatima picked up a tea cake and bit into it. She winked at Hannah. “That’s an old way to approach things, but here in Hamari, the men respond to it. My husband does, anyway.”

  Hannah wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know about that. I usually confront everything head-on. Maybe that’s too American.”

  “You can always try it,” said Karina. “And if it doesn’t work, go back to your old ways.”

  “I’ll think about it. Things are very different now, with the way I feel…” She cut herself off. “With Chakir.”

  “But you’re such a natural,” said Fatima. “Look at you, sitting here for tea. You’re every bit a princess. A match for him.”

  Hannah blushed again. These women had understood everything she’d tried not to say about her feelings for Chakir. “Now you’re being too kind.”

  16

  “I don’t know what comes next.” Ryan put his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands. “I just don’t remember. I’m sick of this.” The boy kicked his feet hard under the chair.

  Chakir stared down at him, at a loss for words.

  He was frustrated. They were all frustrated. Another week had gone by, the ceremony was coming up, and Ryan couldn’t remember the words he would need to recite. They’d been at it for an hour, and the little boy was no closer to having them down when they’d started.

  Mr. Medhi stepped in. “Let’s take a break. Ryan, would you like something to drink? Come to the kitchen with me, and we’ll choose something.”

  Ryan, still pouting, slid from his chair and followed Mr. Medhi out of the room.

  Chakir looked at Hannah, who rose from her seat at the side of the room and closed the little notebook she brought to all the sessions. “This isn’t going well,” she said simply.

  “I know that. I just don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I’ve broken it down as far as I can take it.” Chakir gestured at the cards on the table. “Short of holding up flash cards with the individual sounds, he’s not going to be able to pull this off.”

  Hannah came to stand next to him. “We’ll have to think of another way.”

  “It’s not a complicated ceremony.”

  She laughed, and Chakir felt drawn into that laughter. He wanted to sink into some joy and wash away the day’s frustrations. “It’s complicated for a five-year-old who only speaks English. You had to have known this would take some time.”

  “I did. I just didn’t think it would take this much of it.” Chakir had tried to incorporate some of the language from the ceremony into each lesson, but sometimes it didn’t fit in with what they were learning. And most times, Ryan forgot the words by the next session. It was finally time to buckle down and memorize it, and they were all failing miserably.

  “We need another approach,” said Hannah. “We can’t keep doing the same thing and expect it to start working.”

  Mr. Medhi came back into the room. “The nanny
took Ryan for a walk in the garden and to get ready for his soccer game,” he announced. “While he’s gone, I think we should discuss the lesson.”

  “I think we should cancel the lessons,” Hannah said.

  “We’re not canceling the lessons.” Chakir tried his best to keep his irritation under control. “We just need to work harder.”

  “Or we could work a different way,” Hannah said. What was she getting at? She raised her eyebrows at Chakir. “A different way,” she repeated.

  “What way?” Chakir leaned against the table, exasperated.

  “Oh, there’s just no point in…never mind all that. It’s clear Ryan’s not going to learn the language in time for the ceremony. He’s going to have to rely on physical cues.”

  Mr. Medhi nodded. “I agree. He should at least be able to walk through the ceremony and repeat the words when necessary.”

  “There’s no real way to practice that,” Chakir said. Mr. Medhi knew that, too. Why was he suggesting it?

  “There isn’t?” Hannah narrowed her eyes. “We can’t just run through the ceremony until Ryan has it down? Because I’m almost certain that if we did that, he would understand what he needed to do. He might even understand what he needs to say. He needs to move in order to learn. All five-year-olds do.”

  “All five-year-olds aren’t bound by Hamari tradition. Ryan is.” Chakir didn’t think this could be any clearer. “We can’t do a mock ceremony.”

  “Why not?” Hannah faced him head on. “It can’t be so complex that we couldn’t at least walk through the steps. A rehearsal.”

  “The crowning ceremony is done only on the occasion,” Chakir said. He felt for all the world like the council was breathing down his neck. He could practically feel their disapproval singing through the air at the very mention of a mock ceremony. It simply wasn’t done. “You can’t have a pretend crowning ceremony. No rehearsals.”