Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5)

by Manda Mellett

  There’s some irony in getting married in second hand clothes.

  “Will I pass muster?”

  Rais raises his chin, “You’ll pass.” And then he leaves me. Needing Dutch courage, I open my brother’s convenient liquor cabinet, and pour a shot of whisky. And then, as ready as I can be to face the next hurdle, I make myself comfortable, enjoying the remaining few moments to myself. I don’t have to wait long.

  “Jasim. Anarchy Rules, and the film crew, have just arrived.”

  I tap my hand on the back of the couch, coming to a quick decision. “Arrange to bring them here, Ryan. Thank you.” Meeting them in the informal sitting room of Nijad’s private suite is perhaps less intimidating than meeting them in a state room.

  His mouth quirks, “I think I’ll stay on hand.”

  “I think that might be wise.” It’s quite possible I might shortly need the services of my bodyguard.

  Soon, the people I’d last seen in the harem at the Palace of Amahad enter the room, concern written all over their faces. The room becomes crowded with the eight of them there. Waving my hand, I direct them to the dining table, glad it’s big enough to seat all of us. One seat remains empty as Ryan stands by the door, his vigilant eyes taking everything in.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Sally?” Joe starts even before he’s sat down.

  “We know where she is.” That’s the truthful part.

  “Is she alright? Janna told us she’d been kidnapped.”

  I nod toward Sunny, noticing despite the tan she’s acquired, worry has made her look pale, “She’s fine.” And that may be a lie. “We found out what happened and it’s nothing like what we feared. She liked the desert, and went off with a tribe to do more filming. She’ll be back in a couple of days.” Well, that’s what I hope.

  “Thank fuck for that!” Joe looks relieved.

  “Can’t believe she did that.” Rory’s shaking his head.

  Sunny laughs, her spirit seems to be returning. “I can, she’s quite an adventurer. And if she’s scouting for more locations, I can quite understand.”

  “We thought the worst when Janna called to say she’d gone missing.” Liam’s shaking his head, “Women, eh?”

  Blake, who I remember is the gaffer, frowns, “She’s an independent one. Never thinking to let anyone know when she’s got a bee in her bonnet about something. I’ll be having words with her when she gets back.”

  Eli laughs, “You remember that time she wanted to film the Northern Lights? No one knew where she was for hours. Talking to her ain’t going to fix it. She’ll be up and off on her own again when something else takes her fancy.”

  I hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but though there’s an air of suspicion, they seem to be accepting my story for now.

  “Well, if that’s that, and Sally’s fine, where’s Janna?” Mickey starts to stand, “I’d like to catch up with her.” His eyes narrow suspiciously, “And I’ll want to have a chat with you later, once I’ve spoken to her.”

  Ah. So Janna’s already told them. Well, some of it at least.

  And we’re at the difficult part already. I raise my hand, “Please sit, Mickey. There’s something I need to tell you.” How do I explain? How can I describe something even resembling true love when I have no idea what that looks like?

  As he grumbles and retakes his seat, it’s me who now stands. I walk over to the window, but turn my back on the view, facing them down. “I met Janna, what, six weeks ago now? There was an instant attraction between us.”

  “Which you told me you weren’t going to act on,” Mickey snarls and half rises. Ryan’s there in a flash, his hand on his shoulder a tactile suggestion the drummer should sit back down. From the size of Mickey’s muscles, I think he’d hold his own in a fight. I certainly don’t want it to come to that. Not on my wedding day. It’s bad enough as it is, I don’t want to turn up with a blackened eye.

  “Let Jasim speak.” Ryan tells him, tersely.

  “What have you done, Jasim?” Joe’s mouth turns down. “Where’s Janna?”

  I choose my words carefully, “We set up the scene as you wanted it filmed. Only I changed the plan. It was I who stole her away on the horse. And it was for real.”

  Now the twins stand, “What the fuck have you done with her? What do you mean, you stole her? Did you take her by force?”

  I raise my palms, “You misunderstand. It was just for the night. A sheikh and a tent out of the Arabian Nights. If there was any stealing involved, it was all on her part. She stole my heart.” Lowering my hands, I cross my fingers behind my back.

  Sunny’s mouth falls open, and she lets out a sigh, “Sounds romantic.”

  Nodding my appreciation toward her, I take the offered opening, “It certainly was. And I proposed to her.” Well it was several hours later, but I don’t have to admit that the timing was off.

  Mickey’s shaking his head, “Stop right there. It’s bloody rubbish coming out of your mouth. I, for one, don’t fucking believe it for a minute. You spend one night together and you say you’re engaged?” This time he does stand, and Ryan lets him, though he stays hovering close by. “Janna’s never even been on a proper date before. No, man, she’d never jump into that. You’re forcing her. I’ve heard tales about Arabs taking women.”

  Ignoring the slur on my heritage, I keep my voice calm. “I understand how fast it seems, but I assure you when I made the offer, she accepted my proposal. We’re getting married.” I take a deep breath, and my muscles tense in preparation as I add. “Today.”

  “What the fuck?” Joe’s leapt to his feet. “If she’s agreed, she doesn’t know what she’s doing! Have you drugged her or something?”

  If it was anyone else in any other situation, I’d be saying the same thing. How can I convince them? I step forward, my face set as I snarl, “How dare you insult me? I would never stoop as low as that.” Though I’d had to use a form of blackmail to get her to agree, the thing is, I’m being forced into it too.

  “You love her?”

  “Oh Sunny, for fuck’s sake, they barely know each other.”

  And so it starts. For the next fifteen minutes, I try to fabricate a story of two people falling in love under the desert skies. Reaching the conclusion that they can’t live without each other after just one night. Some of the words coming out of my mouth make me think I should pursue a career as a write of romance, so outlandish are some of my claims. Behind their backs, Ryan’s shooting me looks of disbelief, not at my story, which he knows is pure invention, but at my ability to pull it off. I’m glad I decided it would be me who would break the news, Janna would have folded under the pressure. They want us to wait, I tell them we can’t, that the desire for our two lives to become one is too strong. They say she’s too young, I tell them she’s not. Every argument they throw at me, I come up with a rebuttal.

  “You own a fucking BDSM club. And I’ve seen you in action.” Suddenly Mickey’s coming toward me, his muscles bunching and he’s flexing his hands, “What part does that play in this so-called relationship?”

  I raise my shoulders, and shrug them back down, “She’ll be my sub.”

  Mickey roars with rage, Ryan’s got a walkie-talkie to his mouth as he steps forward. I block Mickey’s punch, he goes to hit me again, but I get in first. Having him on the ground puts him in no better temper. When he rises, Ryan’s there fast, holding him back. Then the twins are coming toward me…

  The door opens, Kadar and Nijad step in, quickly followed by Rais and some of the palace guard, who take up strategic positions around the room.

  “Stop this at once!” My older brother’s voice thunders in the room. “Today is a day for celebration. Not for fighting. Jasim. Explain.”

  No longer under threat, I hold my hands up, “I’m a Dom,” I address the group, “I own a kink club. I’ve seen some of you around, I know you play too. The fact you think I’d ever harm a woman under my care is offensive. Janna will be my wife, and my sub. And I’ll take c
are of her like a Dom should.” The disgust that they can consider I’d hurt her, or in any way she wouldn’t enjoy, is abhorrent.

  Kadar steps up and stands beside me, he addresses the group with distaste on his face, “My brother, Sheikh Jasim, and Miss Janna Stevens will be wed today. I have been persuaded of their relationship and have given my consent. As being akin to her family, you are welcome to be witnesses. However, I will not permit you to disrupt proceedings. If you continue to act in this manner, I will have you escorted off the premises and returned to London immediately.”

  A small movement from the guards emphasises the threat behind Kadar’s words. Wryly, I note that he hasn’t actually lied. Just left much unsaid.

  “There’s something more to it.” Joe rasps out, “She’d never do something like this. Janna’s acting totally out of character.”

  Unseen by the band, Nijad throws me a wink, “My brother too,” he tells them earnestly, “But I support him in this.”

  Mickey’s struggling to get free from Ryan’s firm hold. “I want to see Janna, make sure she’s not being coerced.”

  “I’m not.” The softly, but authoritatively spoken words announce a vision stepping into the room.

  Yesterday she was stunning, today she exceeds perfection. So damn beautiful she makes me want to fall to my feet. She’s dressed in Arabic style, but the way she carries it off is all her own. She’s wearing the clothes of a bride; her mermaid style dress nips in at the waist and hugs her hips tightly before encasing her legs in white satin. Arms covered in lace, her hands holding up a long lace overskirt and train. Glittering jewels sparkle in the light from the windows. The clothes making her look so delicate and feminine, stirs the Dom inside me. There’s a glow to her skin, and her eyes are shining, and flowers are braided in her hair. Her hands and feet are adorned with henna. Where they’d gotten the dress from, I have no idea. But the effect is almost regal. A bride fit for a prince. And she’s mine

  I can’t stop my feet moving toward her, taking hold of both her hands, gazing into the depths of her dark eyes. It’s no pretence that my voice is gruff, she’s stolen my air. “You’re beautiful.” It’s an inadequate word, it’s all I can think of.

  “You scrub up well yourself,” she responds, her little hands squeezing mine. As our fingertips touch I feel the callouses she gets from playing the guitar, and my gut clenches as it hits me just how very wrong this is. I’m stealing her away, robbing her of life as she knows it. But another look at my glamourous bride puts paid to my guilt, replacing it with selfishness. Any man would be lucky to have the chance to call her his own. And today, that man is me.

  What’s she wearing under those clothes? Apart from the marks I left upon her last night. Thank fuck for the robes hiding my lengthening cock. I can’t help myself, my hand curls round the back of her neck, pulling her to me. Our mouths meet in a punishing kiss, ignoring everyone else in the room. We break away only when Kadar clears his throat. Wry smiles exchanged between us. We might be marrying out of necessity, but there’s no lack of a spark.

  Mickey approaches, Ryan close behind, hovering in case I should need him. “Janna, are you sure about this?” He sounds more hesitant, as though our uninhibited display had served to convince him. “It would be sensible to wait.”

  Her eyes fixed on mine, she addresses herself to him, “We can’t wait.” Only I’m aware of the double meaning in her words.

  My older brother steps forward, “It’s time.”

  Stunned into silence, her friends allow her to leave. Followed by my brothers and hers, hand in hand we walk through the palace, passing across the atrium into one of the state rooms that has been hurriedly prepared. Low stools on a dais for us to seat ourselves, my brothers taking their places to either side.

  Bemused, her friends enter, seating themselves on the chairs provided. Rais steps up, and hands two documents over.

  My fingers take her left hand, “The contracts bind us together once we sign them,” I tell her, “They describe the mahr that I’ll provide.”

  “Mahr?”

  “The bride price. Money you will hold in the event that I fail to provide for you.” Rais passes me a cheque, and I hand it over.

  Her eyes open wide, her hand covers her mouth as she gasps. “Jasim, this is for me? No, it can’t be. It’s too much.”

  Kadar interrupts, “It’s the Kassis family pledge,” he tells her, saving me an explanation.

  Nijad laughs softly, “The going rate for brides.”

  “Accept, habiti. It’s part of the formalities.”

  She looks like she wants to say something different, but is too overawed. She puts her fingers on the cheque; as she takes it, and I give away ten million pounds of my personal fortune. I’m certain to lose it, as we’ll be divorcing as soon as we can. It means little to me, I can afford it.

  Nijad passes me a ring, I put it on her finger. Kadar puts something in her hand, her eyes widen, and then she places a matching gold ring on mine.

  Rais produces a pen, she signs the contract without reading it. I do likewise, Kadar will have had lawyers draw it up, it will do what it’s meant to.

  I then take hold of her face, my palms cupping her cheeks. “It’s done,” I tell her softly, “You’re mine.”

  Oh, there should be fanfare, a party, dancing. A celebration shared with my people and hers. But there hadn’t been time for me to even think of arranging it. She deserves so much more than I’m offering her today. I make a vow that however long this marriage lasts I’ll make her as happy as I can.

  “Is that it?” Mickey sounds incredulous. “You’d have had more of a ceremony in a registry office.”

  But it’s Joe who slaps him down, “Don’t spoil it for her, Mickey. If this is what she wants, we should let her get on with it.”

  “Lie on the bed she’s fucking made for herself you mean.”

  My bride stands, sweeps the lacey train around her and goes to her friends. “Can’t you just be happy for me for once? No man would have been good enough as far as you’re concerned, would he?” Without giving them a chance to answer, or for me to enjoy the feeling of pride I have at that moment, she comes back to me with a flounce and takes my arm. “Husband.” Her eyes sparkle with merriment, and I know she’s teasing me.

  “Don’t you forget it,” I speak softly into her ear, “Wife. And I’ll make tonight I’ll make you pay for your taunts.”

  Chapter 24

  Janna

  Hearing him promise he intends to punish me, my lady parts start tingling. Whatever I think about marriage to his man, there’s no doubt with very little effort he can make my body wake up and sing.

  As I follow him out of the state room, my mind being mainly on the pleasures the night ahead guarantees to hold, I’m only vaguely conscious of being led across the atrium at the rear of the palace, and emerging on steps leading down into the amazing gardens. An aroma, not unlike barbeques on a summer’s day in a park in London assails me. And flashbulbs.

  Oh no! Any lingering thoughts I might have had about being able to keep this sham of a marriage quiet disappear when our picture is snapped a hundred times over.

  “Smile,” a voice suggests in my ear.

  “Qibla, qibla!” Rings out. I glance at my new husband, who’s grinning.

  “The photographs are to convince Fadi,” he explains in a whisper, “And they’re calling out for us to kiss.” And we do just that. There on the steps. For a moment, it feels like we’ve just got married for real. There isn’t anything forced or unwanted as Jasim’s lips meet mine, our physical attraction to each other undeniable. And affection too, that was there from the beginning when we first met, I liked him, and believed he liked me too. Otherwise why would he have extended the hand of friendship, tended to my wounds and offered to take me home?

  But marriage partners, starting a life together, should be in love. And I’m not. And neither is he. Will lust be enough to carry us through? Or will our charade become apparent too fast?<
br />
  He pulls away, his fingertips taking the place of his lips, “I think Rais has been up to mischief.” He turns me to the side where the sheikh is waiting, a wide grin on his face.

  “Come, Sheikh, Sheikha. Follow me.”

  Mystified, at the nod from Jasim, I start walking through the gardens, accepting the congratulations thrown at us by the palace staff. And then we’re out in the desert where tents have been hastily erected, and large lumps of meat are slowly turning on spits. Rais leads us to a tent, its big flaps tied open, and settles us down on low cushions. Immediately, a banquet begins to appear in front of our eyes.

  Jasim’s part amused, part flabbergasted that all this has been set up in such a short time. Soon we’re joined by his brothers and the members of Anarchy Rules, along with Blake and Eli. Surprisingly, the lavishness of the spread goes some way to placate my friends, going some way to convince them this is not some rushed and sordid affair. Well, it is, but best they don’t know that. The only thing that upsets them is there’s no alcohol being served. But at a whispered suggestion from Jasim, they soon solve that problem, finding the supplies in their suites, and sneaking off one or two at a time.

  There’s entertainment on offer, belly dancing, fire eating, the tribespeople making the most of the impromptu celebration.

  Darkness falls, and I’m entranced at the flaming torches lighting the night. If I’d ever given any thought to the subject, this would have surpassed anything I could ever have dreamed or hoped my wedding would entail.

  “Happy?” Jasim leans over to speak to me.

  And I realise I am.

  “Are you having a honeymoon?” Sunny calls out. I don’t know how to answer, but Jasim comes to my rescue.

  “We are. We’re heading into the desert in the morning,” he replies, with a surreptitious squeeze of my hand.

  It’s the one true thing that’s been said today.

  “You take good fucking care of her,” Joe makes his statement, pointing at Jasim with a kebab on a stick. Goodness knows where he’s putting all that food, he’s been constantly eating since we sat down.