Jemma was neither a virgin nor an innocent and yet she blushed, furiously, feeling ridiculously embarrassed, and shy. “I’m not sure about this.”
“You don’t need to worry. His Highness will know everything. He will teach you.”
Jemma flushed again, her cheeks burning, trying not to feel mortified. The maid must think she was a timid virgin.
“Do you want to try it on?” the maid asking, admiring the long white satin gown.
“No.” Jemma turned away from the gown, the fabric soft and begging to be touched, focusing instead on the remaining wedding night gifts and accessories. White satin shoes. Delicate white satin undergarments. And of course, the white silk pouch.
Curious, Jemma loosened the silver strings and emptied the pouch into her hand. Glittering diamond and pearl earrings spilled into her palm. A small card slid out last, landing on top of the stunning diamond drop earrings.
My first gift to you. Please wear them tonight. I think they will look magnificent on you.
Jemma read the card twice, and then slowly exhaled, her heart hammering.
Was this really happening? Would she really go to him tonight, dressed like a virgin sacrifice, dazzling in diamonds and white?
Jemma slipped the earrings back into the silk pouch, and then placed the pouch and shoes inside the silver trunk before closing the lid and fastening it shut.
Yesterday afternoon she’d been in the middle of a photo shoot when Mikael arrived. She’d known nothing about him, and very little about Saidia, and yet now she was his wife, and being prepared for his bed.
She still couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Jemma sat back on her heels and looked at the young maid. “Have you ever heard of a royal groom not satisfying his bride? Have you ever heard your mother or grandmother mention a kidnapped bride returning to her family? Has it happened in Saidia history before?”
The maid nodded. “Yes.”
“A long, long time ago, or more recently?”
“During my great-great-grandmother’s time, I think. Many, many years ago. And...” The maid chewed her lip, looking unsure of herself. “Maybe my mother’s time.”
Jemma frowned. “Your mother served my husband’s mother.”
“Yes.”
“Mikael’s mother was unhappy?”
“Not at first. Not during the honeymoon, but later.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I do not know. My mother would never say.”
The maid left to start Jemma’s bath, and rather than argue with the maid about privacy, Jemma stripped her clothes off and spent the next half hour soaking in the deep marble tub, lost in thought.
The Kasbah was a palace within a palace, and Mikael descended from a line of royal men who’d been taught that it was necessary to know how to please a woman in bed, and even his duty to give his woman pleasure. But not just pleasure. He was expected to make her fall in love with him. She needed to want to stay in Saidia. She needed to be happy. And if, during the honeymoon, the Saidia groom couldn’t make his bride happy, she could leave him after sixteen days.