As he navigated his way back to the palace, he told himself that this time was different. This time his wife actually seemed interested in having a physical relationship with him. Yasmin had pretended to want him while they were engaged, but as soon as she had what she wanted, she’d quickly reverted. He’d known by the end of the first month of their marriage that something was very wrong. While he and Heidi had been married nearly that long, their relationship was only getting better.
She responded to his kisses with a passion that matched his own. He’d felt her tremble in his arms. He’d tasted her kisses and her growing desire. She wasn’t anything like Yasmin; perhaps they had a chance.
Jamal shook his head. He wanted to believe in what was happening, but he wasn’t sure. Yasmin had nearly destroyed him, and he vowed that no woman would ever have that power over him again. No matter what, he would always hold a piece of himself back. He’d kept his promise all the years since her untimely death, and there had been plenty of women around to test his resolve. Some had been quite determined to win his heart, but he’d kept it firmly locked behind a wall no one was going to scale. Not even Heidi.
Heidi. Just thinking about his charming wife made him smile. She was so obviously innocent, yet determined. Except for being female, she was like no other woman he’d ever known. Of course, the women who had been around since Yasmin’s death had been there for a specific purpose. Jamal was willing to admit to himself that he wasn’t very proud of what he’d been doing for the past six years.
In an effort to forget the things Yasmin had said and the way she’d rejected him, he’d found beautiful women who desperately wanted him in their bed. He’d sought out the hedonists, the exotic, erotic women of high society and had let them seduce him. He’d showered them with jewels, gifts and trips, while allowing them the thrill of having a prince as their escort. All he had expected in return was that they want him.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew that those women were supposed to make up for what had happened with Yasmin. Yet all their yeses couldn’t take away his wife’s many nos. And in the deepest, darkest place in his heart, he couldn’t help wondering if Heidi would tell him no as well.
Still, he couldn’t resist her subtle brand of charm. He had a unique opportunity to get to know his wife as both a blushing bride and a bold mistress. He’d thought her intelligent and funny from their first meeting, but now she was so much more. She was innovative and brave and incredibly innocent. He knew he had to be careful, to make sure that neither of them got hurt, but he also wanted to see how far she was willing to go in her game. Would she really do a seductive dance for him? And if so, would she want to make love?
Jamal turned into the long driveway that led to the palace. There was one problem in Heidi’s plan, and he wondered if she’d thought of it yet. As his wife, she was both allowed and expected to be innocent. Yet as his mistress, she was going to have to have some sexual experience. The mistress could not be a virgin. Which meant she, as Heidi, was going to have to overcome that particular obstacle.
Would she try to seduce him, or would she simply end the game? He found himself hoping it would be the former, and he promised himself he wouldn’t make it difficult at all for her to have her way with him.
“You can’t be serious,” Fatima said as she arranged several starburst lilies in a magenta vase. A box of unopened long-stemmed white roses sat on the table beside her.
Heidi stood across from her, admiring the older woman’s swift fingers as blossoms were placed, removed, trimmed, then put back in exactly the right spot. She’d had her share of flower-arranging classes at finishing school, but she’d never understood the art of the whole thing.
“I am serious,” Heidi said. “I need to know where to buy the veils, and I need a video or something to learn the Dance of the Seven Veils.”
Fatima shook her head. “You must have misunderstood him. That dance was invented by Hollywood years ago. There’s no such thing in real life. Open that box, child, and start separating the roses for me. There’s a good girl.”
Heidi smiled. At times Fatima still thought of her as twelve or thirteen. If only life were that simple now.
“I know what he said,” she told the queen. “I was standing very close to him so it’s not as if I couldn’t hear. He distinctly said the Dance of the Seven Veils.”
Fatima looked at her. “Such nonsense coming from my own grandson. He’s just trying to get your clothes off.”
Heidi opened the box of roses and began laying them out on the table. They were long and perfect. The creamy blossoms gave off a lovely fragrance, which was unusual for long-stemmed roses. But then Fatima probably had them grown just for her.
“I’m pretty clear on his goal,” she admitted, trying not to think about actually being naked in the presence of a man. “What I don’t know is what to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
Heidi had been thinking about that as well. It would be easy for her to call Jamal and tell him she knew he was trying to get her naked. Except he thought of her as an experienced woman of the world. No doubt he was, if not testing her, then finding out how far she would go. It was a question she hadn’t answered herself yet.
“Can I learn something similar? Maybe modify a dance to include the veils.”
Fatima looked at her over the flowers. “Oh, they all include veils. It’s the taking off of the veils that is going to be different.” Thin, dark eyebrows raised slightly. “I take it things are going well?”
Heidi handed her three roses. “Yes…sort of.”
“That’s not a definitive response.”
“I know. I find it all confusing.” She tried to form an accurate answer. “I like Jamal. He’s being good to me.” Briefly she recounted how Jamal had brought her information on the general she’d been researching. “He’s funny and considerate and I like being with him. But it’s very strange being his mistress and his wife.”
“Sounds to me as if you have the best of both worlds. Don’t wives always want to be mistress and vice versa?”
Heidi shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I’m afraid he’s more interested in Honey than in me.”
“He can’t be. You’re the same person.”
“I know…” Her voice trailed off.
Heidi didn’t know how to explain that so far Honey was seeing a lot more action. She’d been the one getting the passionate kisses while Heidi, as the patient wife, received little more than a peck on the cheek.
“I like the idea of being his mistress,” Heidi said slowly. “But being married to him as well makes it confusing. I don’t know that I like that he’s with someone else.”
“But he’s not.”
“Isn’t he?” She shook her head and handed over more flowers. “That’s where I start to lose my mind.”
Fatima placed the roses in the vase and shifted them slightly. “You can decide about your mind later,” the queen told her. “Right now you have a bigger problem.”
“What’s that?”
Fatima smiled. “You can buy veils at the marketplace easily enough, and I’ll find you a dance video. But that’s just the logistics. What are you going to do about the rest of it?”
“The rest of what?” Heidi asked, truly confused. “If I have the costume and a dance, I’ll be fine.”
“Will you? How intriguing. Because if I remember correctly you were going to make Honey a woman of the world.”
“She is.”
“Then won’t Jamal be surprised when he finds out his woman of the world happens to be a virgin.”
Heidi opened her mouth, then closed it. Words failed her, but then so did her brain. It shut down completely. Fatima’s words echoed over and over again in her head. A virgin.
“Oh,” she said at last.
“Yes. Oh. So you see, my dear, the issue of the veils is small potatoes when compared with your real problem. Which means before you can go any further with him as his mistress, you’re going to hav
e to find a way to make love with him as his wife.”
Heidi felt herself blush. “Oh, Lord, what do I do?”
“Simple enough. You seduce him.”
Two days later Heidi prepared to sneak out of the palace and head down to the souk for an afternoon of shopping in the centuries-old marketplace.
She was less concerned about buying herself anything new than about her need to find veils and practice with them. Fatima had come through with a video that Heidi could modify to include a Dance of the Seven Veils, but without the sheer lengths of fabric, she hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do yet.
Not that she didn’t need a few things for herself, she thought as she fingered the plain, blue-gray dress she wore. While she didn’t especially like the “Honey” styles of overt sexuality, she was ready to try something more flattering for herself. Maybe a few tailored dresses and pantsuits. Not to mention evening clothes. She was going to have official functions to attend in the next few months.
But for now, veils were her main concern, she thought as she left the suite she shared with Jamal and made her way toward the front of the palace. Veils and a growing sense of panic at the thought of having to seduce her own husband.
Heidi still couldn’t believe what Fatima had told her. Just thinking about it made her go numb. But the queen had been right. Honey the seductress couldn’t possibly be a virgin. And a good instructional video only went so far. She was going to have to change her status in the innocence department—and fast. Otherwise “Honey” was going to have some explaining to do.
But how? she wondered as she headed for the rear of the palace and the walkway leading to the garage. She wasn’t sure that Jamal was interested in her that way. He was still in love with Yasmin, which made the entire situation even more awkward than it had to be. Still, he’d had lots of women in his life in the past six years, so he wasn’t completely against the idea of being intimate. And he’d gotten quite angry at her on their wedding night when she’d talked about a mental and spiritual union as opposed to a physical one.
So maybe he wouldn’t mind if they consummated their relationship. The trick was going to be bringing up the subject, then casually indicating her willingness to do that with him. Maybe she should avoid the face-to-face conversation and simply send him e-mail!
Heidi was still grinning at the thought when she rounded a corner and smacked right into a very broad, strong chest. Powerful arms came around to hold her steady. In less time than it took for her heart rate to jump into overdrive, she recognized Jamal’s scent and feel.
“Heidi,” he said, sounding surprised. “Where are you off to?”
“I, ah, well, me?”
She stumbled over the words as her brain sought to find a plausible excuse for her being in this part of the palace. The long corridor led directly to the garage. So where was she going? It’s not that she wasn’t allowed to leave. She even had her own car to drive, but she felt a little guilty to be heading off to the marketplace on a “Honey” errand.
“I, um, yes, you,” he said, smiling at her. His gaze narrowed. “You have the most interesting expression on your face. If I didn’t know better, I would swear you were sneaking off and didn’t want to be seen.” He touched a finger to her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Is that true?”
His dark eyes seemed to see right down into the center of her being. So she settled on the truth and hoped he wouldn’t ask for anything specific.
“I’m going to the souk,” she admitted.
“Shopping. Out to spend my money, are you? No wonder you’re acting guilty.”
“I’m not. I just thought I’d get a few things.”
Jamal’s gaze drifted over her body. She felt fluttery inside, which was crazy because he wasn’t attracted to her. She only got kisses on the cheek. He saved his passion for Honey.
“I’m teasing you,” he said, releasing her chin. “I want you to have beautiful things, so I’m pleased you’re going shopping.” He paused as if lost in thought, then squeezed her shoulder. “What if I join you? I can cancel my meetings for this afternoon and tag along. What do you think? Would you like a man’s opinion of your selections?”
Heidi opened her mouth then closed it. Talk about being caught between a rock and hard place. If she told Jamal no, he wouldn’t understand why. He would think she wasn’t interested in him, or their marriage, or that she was being difficult.
But if she said yes, how was she supposed to buy the veils? Besides, she hadn’t wanted to go shopping for herself. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to buy. But the thought of spending the afternoon with Jamal made her heart flutter and her skin hot.
The humor fled his face, leaving him looking stern and cold. “Never mind,” he said. “You go on and have fun. I’ll see you later.” He turned to leave.
She drew in a deep breath and put her hand on his arm. “I’d very much like you to come with me,” she said. “I’m not sure what I’m going to buy, so you might find the time a little boring.”
“Not if I’m with you,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Besides, I know the best places to shop for wonderful clothes that will make you feel like a fairy princess.”
She glanced up at him. “I won’t even ask how you know this,” she muttered. “Probably out buying who knows what for your other women.”
“That’s true,” he said with a grin, then brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “But now I’m shopping for my wife, and that’s an entirely different matter.”
She wanted to ask how it was different and if it was better. She wanted to know if he and Yasmin had shopped together and had they had fun and would he be thinking of her today. But she didn’t. Instead, she focused on the way his fingers felt against hers and on the happiness that filled her as they walked toward the garage.
They took her car, a small Mercedes that had a trunk large enough to hold dozens of outfits. Jamal drove, moving expertly through the light traffic, dodging children and bicyclists, not to mention speeding cars that roared around the corners as if they were racing on the Grand Prix circuit.
He took the narrow streets of the back alleys, avoiding the clogged main streets, and parked behind a two-story stucco building done entirely in pink and gold.
“Madam Monique,” he said with a flourish. “And before you ask, no, I have not shopped much here. Fatima likes her selections, as does Dora.”
Heidi offered a smile in response. She didn’t ask how her husband knew where his sister-in-law and grandmother bought their clothes. Jamal was the kind of man who knew everything—even insignificant details. Which meant she had to be very careful to keep her Honey-self separate from her regular self. So how was she going to slip away from Jamal long enough to find and buy veils?
“I know you,” he said, turning off the engine and pocketing the keys. “You’re going to want to spend some time in the main marketplace before buying clothes, right?”
She started to tell him no, but then realized she’d hadn’t been in the souk since her return to El Bahar. A flash of longing for the sights, sounds and smells filled her.
“There’s nothing I would like more,” she said honestly.
“I figured as much.” Jamal got out of her car, then shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it onto the front seat. He unfastened his tie and the top button of his shirt, then threw his tie in after his jacket. After closing and locking the car, he rolled up his shirtsleeves until they were to his elbows.
In a matter of seconds he’d transformed himself from tailored, good-looking businessman to charming, relaxed companion. He took her hand and led the way between the buildings. As they approached the main market street, the noise level increased. Heidi held on to him so that they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd. They turned the corner and found themselves in the middle of delightful chaos.
Heidi drew in a deep breath as the familiar smells assaulted her. Perfumes and oils combined with grilling meats, fresh flowers, fruits, camels, p
eople and the sweetness that always scented the El Baharian air.
What had once been a central location to gather for both locals and visitors from nomadic tribes had evolved into an eclectic center of commerce. The old streets were still lined with open-air shops and stalls selling everything from fruit to meat to brass lamps to cheap, fake artifacts bought by unsuspecting tourists. But the streets surrounding the original market area had become an upscale shopping district, complete with designer houses from around the world.
Vendors called out greetings to potential buyers. Children yelled as they played games that involved darting between the talking shoppers. Music blared from portable radios. Bells clanged, brass pots tumbled together, a lone guitarist sat on a bench across the street and sang about watermelon wine.
She turned in a slow circle, taking in the contrasts of color. The blue of the sky, the dusty brown of many of the robes. The bright fruits and flowers, the dark eyes of many of the natives, the shirts of the tourists, the striped awnings over the carts.
Beneath her feet were stones rubbed smooth by the thousands who had trod on this exact spot for hundreds of years. Except for the modern electronic devices, much of what had been brought to market to sell that morning was similar to items sold for generations. The marketplace was living history—alive, constant, and filled with memories.
“What are you thinking?” Jamal asked as he leaned close to speak in her ear.
“That my grandfather often brought me here,” she told him. “He said this was the heart of El Bahar. Like the king, the souk was a symbol for the people. That as long as they could come here as their parents had come and all the people before that, then they could have hope in the future.”
“Your grandfather was a wise man,” Jamal said. He squeezed her hand. “Come on. Let’s have fun.”
The Desert Rogues Part 1 Page 35
