He pulled back to grin at her. He looked haggard, hollow-eyed, and so happy she knew she’d never be a coward again. The rewards for true courage were perfect and life-changing. ‘You haven’t been reading the papers, have you? There’s been a huge backlash against the stories about you. The people know I’d never have come back but for you. You saved my life and gave me back to them. That’s far more important to them than any bloodline.’ His eyes darkened. ‘But if the whole country was against us I’d still marry you, Sahar Thurayya. They might need me, but I need you.’
‘And I need you. I love you so much.’ She melted against him. ‘I really need you to kiss me,’ she murmured, reaching up to bring him down to her.
The long, frantic kiss was everything she’d dreamed of in the longest two weeks of her life without him; being close to him, feeling his love for her—
‘I’ve been going insane without you,’ he whispered between kisses. ‘I thought you’d never come back, that I had nothing to offer you that would make you stay.’
She kissed him again and again. ‘You,’ she mumbled back. ‘You’re all I need—and to be needed, Alim. Seeing you on TV, how strong and brave you are but so alone…’
‘You’ll take the job?’ he asked, moulding her body along his, as if making an imprint of her on him. ‘It’s not an easy place to be, Sahar Thurayya. But we can change the world from here. We can help make things better.’
‘An irresistible offer to a control freak like me,’ she laughed, and kissed him again. ‘But I warn you, my love, I won’t be your common, garden variety queen.’ Me, a queen, she thought in wonder. Was she in a fairy tale, or dreaming? But Alim felt so wonderfully real against her, the desire filling her so perfect… ‘You know I won’t bend to the rules all the time, and will break them half the time.’
He chuckled, and another long kiss followed. ‘Think I don’t know that? I know you, my star—and I happen to think rattling some cages will be good for the stick-in-the-muds. I intend rattling more than a few cages myself.’
The doors burst open after a quick knock. ‘My lord, there’s something you need to see—’ The man goggled at the sight of his ruler locked in an embrace with the woman who’d saved his life, and began backing out of the room with profuse, mumbled apologies.
Alim said coolly, ‘Put everything on hold unless it’s national emergency, Ratib. I’m spending quality time with my wife-to-be.’
‘Yes, of course, my lord…’ The doors closed.
He winked at her. ‘Ten, nine, eight…and the whole palace knows.’ And from behind him, in a drawer in the desk, he brought out a long, wide, dark-red velvet box and opened it. ‘Your engagement present,’ he said gently. ‘When my mother knew she was dying, she chose these for my future bride, hoping she’d like diamonds. I’ve kept it with me like a talisman the past few weeks, trying to believe you’d come back to me.’
Hana gasped, staring down at the rose-gold ring with a dazzling diamond solitaire, with bracelets, earrings and a necklace to match. ‘Oh…oh, Alim…’
Alim took her left hand from his shoulder, and, with a smile, slid the ring onto her finger—he’d had it resized with the help of Hana’s parents, with whom he’d been in daily contact. ‘At last,’ he growled softly, and leaned to do something he’d fantasised about through the long, lonely weeks without her: nibble on her ear. ‘No more doubts. No running away.’
‘Never,’ she breathed, her face alight and shining with desire and love. He kissed the pulse-point behind her jaw and her head fell back, her face flushed and her chest rose and fell with breaths of growing passion. ‘Alim, I love you, I want you so much. Don’t make me wait for a massive wedding,’ she cried, her voice throbbing with desire.
He’d come a long way from the man who believed no woman could want him—but when he nuzzled her neck, he revelled in the way her body quivered against him. Then he drew back, his face holding the rueful acceptance in his heart. ‘We have little choice in the waiting, my star. You’re going to be a ruler’s wife, the equivalent of a queen. The people will expect to share in the full, traditional courtship. We also have to coordinate a time that the Heads of State who wish to come will be able to attend. We can’t offend anyone. It’ll take at least four to six months.’
Her eyes closed hard; her lips pressed together. ‘I thought you’d say that,’ she whispered glumly, ‘but, oh, it’s going to be so hard, waiting months for you. I want you now.’ She buried her blushing face in his chest. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m not the traditional view of what I should be, but I can’t help it. I love you, I want you so much.’
She spoke of the ancient tradition where a woman must fight her man against his taking her to prove her innocence and chastity, a woman worth keeping…but Alim already knew that and more about his brave, lovely dawn star. She’d healed him heart and soul, made him a man and a ruler again…for the first time in his life, he truly felt whole. He smiled, moved by the depth of her love for him. ‘And never was a tradition broken that means more to me,’ he replied, kissing her nose, her mouth. ‘Nothing about us has followed tradition, my star, but for a little while, now, we have to. It’s important that the people see our courtship as pure and honourable.’
He heard her gulp. ‘All right…then we shouldn’t be alone at any time until we’re married, because all you have to do is touch me, and I quiver and ache with need for you.’ She held him hard as his mind blanked out with the intensity of his happiness. ‘I didn’t mean that I don’t want to see you. I want to be with you all the time, but when I am, all I want is to touch you. And when I touch you, all I want is to make love with you.’
How could he not love, adore this woman? He lifted her face to his. ‘Hana, your parents named you perfectly, because you are my happiness.’
She smiled up at him. ‘And your parents were right, too, because you’ve been so wise in everything you’ve done for me, and in waiting for me.’ She went up on her toes to kiss him again and again. ‘I want to be by your side every day, every night for the rest of my life.’
‘You will be,’ he murmured as he turned her around to clasp the diamond necklace around her throat, the bracelet around her wrist: the traditional signs of a bridegroom who cherished his wife-to-be. As he placed the gold and amber veil of the engaged woman on her head, the final part of his first engagement gift to her, he murmured again, ‘You will be.’
EPILOGUE
Eight years later
‘SHE’S all scrunched and wrinkly,’ four-year-old Tariq pronounced. He was looking down at his only sister, born the night before, with a touch of distaste.
‘She’s supposed to be, silly. Babies are all ugly—but she’ll get prettier, and you’re still ugly,’ their oldest, six-and-a-half-year-old Fadi, said, shoving at his little brother with an open palm. Tariq responded with a shove back, setting off their youngest son Sami, making the two-year-old wail in indignation.
‘Boys, boys, Mama’s too tired for this—and you’ll wake Johara,’ Alim reproved his sons, but with an indulgent air as he gathered their youngest son in his arms to comfort him.
Having their children with them every single day, all the time when they weren’t immersed in affairs of state, was a tradition Hana had begun with Fadi’s birth. She’d refused every argument against breast-feeding her children, and insisted on both parents seeing their children for at least a few hours every day—she called it playtime. The family also ate together on every night there were no visitors of state.
With the boys being natural children who knew how to behave—well, mostly, but their occasional childish outbursts made people laugh more than they censured—almost everyone in the nation was convinced of his wife’s wisdom. The initial resistance to their marriage, in the more traditional, old-fashioned sector of the nation, soon faded when they saw how much Hana loved him. The people loved Hana for being one of them, remembering her roots and being proud of them. Alim loved that his children felt free to climb on his lap or come to him for
a cuddle instead of their nanny or tutor when they were tired or had hurt themselves. His children were completely themselves, felt free to laugh or play or yell when the family were alone…and they knew they were loved by their parents.
And Alim knew his wife utterly adored him.
Hana had taken months of lessons in royal deportment, but they hadn’t lasted long. She’d completely failed at royal reserve in public; she spoke her mind, and the people loved her for being their advocate against highborn self-interest.
They also loved her for not being able to hide that she loved her husband to distraction.
His two oldest sons kept fighting until Alim put up his hand. ‘I said Mama’s tired. Fadi, you’re old enough to control yourself for your mother’s sake. She’s in pain.’
Fadi sobered, looking anxiously at Hana. ‘Did you hurt yourself, Mama?’
Hana gave her boys a tired, loving smile. It had been a quick but painful birth for her, and as usual, she’d refused pain relief. ‘It always hurts having a baby, my angel—but Johara’s worth the pain. You were all worth the pain.’
Alim quickly took a sleeping Johara from his wife’s arms as the boys, hearing the ‘Mama needs a cuddle’ note in her voice, scrambled over the bed to reach her first. Sami wailed again when he didn’t win, and his older brothers staked their claim all over her; but Hana made a place for him at her breast, and he snuggled in with a happy sigh.
An hour later, when he could see Hana was struggling to keep her eyes open, Alim called for Raina, the nanny, who ushered the children out after many lingering hugs and kisses. The boys would be spending the night with Hana’s parents, in the magnificent house near the palace Alim had given them as a bride gift. Hana’s brother and sisters and their families were joining Malik and Amal, to celebrate Johara’s birth. Harun and Amber were coming also, from wherever in the world they were now. Harun, finally free to do as he wished, had first fought for his marriage, and won Amber back. To his surprise, he’d discovered the wife he’d barely known shared his passion for ancient history—so when he’d gone back to his archaeology studies, she’d studied right alongside him. Now his little family—they were due to have their third child in about twelve weeks—roamed the world as they discovered the past together.
And Alim couldn’t be happier for him.
He put his sleeping daughter in her cradle by the bed and covered her tenderly. About to leave the room—there was a mountain of work waiting in his office—he saw his wife watching him, saw the ‘Hana needs a cuddle’ look on her face, mentally tossed the work out the window and lay beside her on the bed, taking her into his arms. ‘You okay?’
She made a small sound of contentment as she snuggled close, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. ‘I am now.’
The sleepy note in her voice was infectious, and he found himself yawning too. ‘Hmm, maybe I can grab a quick nap.’ Though Hana had cared for the baby last night, he’d woken most times with her, changed the nappies, and could never resist holding his tiny daughter in his arms for a few minutes, just looking at her, loving her. Much as they loved their boys and wouldn’t change them, they’d wanted a daughter for so long.
At his words, Hana rolled carefully over to the phone, and dialled four, to her personal assistant. ‘Roula, I want no disturbances for either of us for an hour, please. My husband and I are tired. Yes, thank you.’ She moved back into his arms, smiling up at him, her eyes heavy with exhausted love. ‘No talking now. Johara will wake up soon enough for a feed.’ She snuggled down, rolling over so he held her close.
They both loved to sleep that way. Hana said they were like koalas—they slept spoon-shaped, one holding the other like a koala baby on its mother’s back, and when one rolled over, so did the other, and they cuddled that way.
Waking or sleeping, if they were alone, if he wasn’t touching her, she was touching him. They loved being together as much now as when they were newlyweds…and he knew that, even in pain now from childbirth, Hana would soon be counting the days until they could make love.
I don’t want separate royal bedrooms. When we’re married, I’ll sleep where my husband sleeps, she’d said firmly within a week of their engagement, creating her first scandal with the unexpected pronouncement. She’d caused her second scandal soon after, when she’d constantly dragged him into cupboards and private antechambers to kiss him during the long months waiting for the wedding, causing staffers no end of headaches as they tried to find him. But they’d shared a room continuously since their wedding night, and she loved and cared for her family in a way few ruling wives had ever done. The children loved that she got down on the floor with them to play, to invent things, even to show them how to behave in political and social situations by using their toys and stuffed animals as heads of state.
As for Alim, he was the happiest man in the nation. His loving, unconventional wife was everything he’d always dreamed of but never thought he’d be blessed enough to find.
He’d finally found a measure of peace for his part in Fadi’s death, thanks to Hana. He’d accepted the joy as well as the responsibility in his position, and found a deep, abiding happiness he’d never imagined with his family life. In return, he’d helped her grow closer to her family, to let forgiveness come from the heart. As for Alim, he loved Hana’s family, and had long been grateful to them. He was even grateful to Mukhtar. If not for that episode in Hana’s life, she’d be Latif’s wife, and he would never have met her.
‘Alim,’ she murmured moments later, obviously half asleep.
Clouded in a tired haze himself, Alim stirred. ‘Hmm?’
She made that happy little sound he loved. ‘Nothing,’ she mumbled, her arm over his, her hand holding him there. ‘Just—my Alim. Mine.’
He was sliding towards sleep, a smile curving his lips. ‘Mmm-hmm. Always.’ He pulled her even closer, and drifted into dreams.
They were still in the same position when their daughter woke them nearly two hours later.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6460-5
THE SHEIKH’S DESTINY
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2010 by Lisa Chaplin.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com
The Sheikh's Destiny (Harlequin Romance) Page 17
