His Defiant Desert Queen(27)
His gaze met hers and held, even as his words echoed in her head, making her nerves dance.
Everything you ever dreamed...and more.
Just like that the night crackled, the air hot and heavy, sultry in the exotic pavilion.
Mikael was so close that he made the hair on her nape rise and her skin prickle. All she could think about was the sheikh stretching his big powerful body out over hers. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she fought to control her breathing.
“You are awfully confident, Your Highness.”
“We are married. Don’t you think it’s time you used my given name?”
“I do not feel married.”
“That will change soon.”
* * *
Jemma disappeared into her room, pulse racing. She turned from the door and nearly tripped over the mountain of trunks stacked just inside the entrance to her sitting room.
The young maid was standing next to the trunks, smiling. “For you,” she said. “From His Highness.”
Jemma backed away from the trunks, panicked by the tower of gifts.
She didn’t want presents. Didn’t want to be showered with expensive gifts and jewels.
She wanted the life she had in London. She wanted her friends. Wanted her work. She wanted her own identity and freedom.
The maid watched Jemma, her dark eyes bright, expression cheerful and excited. “Shall I start your bath, Your Highness? We have much to do to prepare.”
Jemma shook her head, feeling anything but excited. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t go through with this. She wasn’t the kind of woman who just gave up, who just gave in. She was not meant to be Mikael’s queen. Her future was not here in Saidia, nor did she have any desire to bear the children that would heal the rift between families and countries.
“It is a very big day,” the maid added carefully, her confident expression slipping, revealing the first hint of concern. “Much to do. Much tradition.”
Jemma sat down on the edge of one of her low white sofas, her hands folding in her lap. “These are not my traditions.”
The maid knelt next to Jemma. “Your Highness, do not be frightened. His Highness, Sheikh Karim, is a very good and powerful man. He is very fair. A man of his word. If he tells you something, it is so.”
“I think you would say that about all Saidia kings.”
“No. I would not say that about the last king, Sheikh Karim’s father. The old king was not a good man. He made his first wife very sad. I think His Highness, Sheikh Karim, saw much as a boy. I think he saw things a child should not see. This is why he is different from his father. He has worked very hard to be a good king. The people love him. He honors and respects Saidia people, and Saidia tradition.” The maid smiled. “The king will be good to you. You will be happy. I am already happy for you.” Her hand indicated the trunks. “Already he has sent many gifts. He tries to show you already he is pleased with you. That you bring him honor.”
Jemma shook her head. “He’s trying to buy me.”
The maid frowned. “Buy you? Like a camel?”
“Yes. But I’m not a thing to be bought.”
“His Highness does not buy you. His Highness honors you. Gifts show respect. In Saidia, gifts are good things.” She smiled more brightly. “Maybe now you look at your gifts, and then we get ready for tonight.”
Jemma struggled to smile. “You open the trunks for me. Show me what is inside.”
For the next several minutes, all the maid did was unpack the trunks, starting with the largest leather trunk on the bottom of the stack.
The biggest trunk was filled with clothes. Kaftans, skirts, sarongs, tunics, slinky evening gowns. The medium trunk contained shoes and heels and elegant jeweled sandals. The small trunk held jewelry and accessories.
There was one last trunk, but this one wasn’t leather, but silver. The silver box’s gleaming surface was embossed with elegant scrollwork and a jeweled handle. Jemma carefully unfastened the latches. Inside the silver box was a white garment bag, white shoes and a small, delicate white silk pouch.
“This is for tonight,” the maid said, unzipping the garment bag to remove a long white satin gown that looked like something from a Hollywood movie. “Your bridal gown.”
“My wedding gown?” Jemma corrected, thinking maybe she’d misunderstood the girl’s English.
“No. The honeymoon gown. For pleasure.” The maid smiled, her cheeks pink. “Tonight is the first night. You go to him in white. You meet him in the Chamber of Innocence.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I come from the same tribe as Sheikh Karim. My mother and grandmother served the new Karim brides. And now I serve you. It is my job to prepare you for the king’s pleasure.”