The Secret of the Sheikh's Betrothed

by Felicitas Ivey

  “Is that the knife you used on Ghalib?” Grandfather asked.

  Ikraam shook his head, letting his loose hair slide forward to hide his face, since he was standing beside the amir. “I used the knife I have for the loom.”

  The amir nodded. “I’ve been told you are a skilled weaver.”

  “It is only because of your gift to the tribe that I’ve become one,” Ikraam said. “Your generosity to my father has benefited many.”

  “He saved my life,” Grandfather said. “Yet from your condition, I feel I have failed you.”

  For a second, Ikraam was dismayed as he thought the amir was talking about his gender. But he then realized the bruise from Bahiyya’s slap was very visible, now that he wasn’t veiled.

  “Amir—” Ikraam started, but then Fathi strode into the room.

  Ikraam didn’t know what he was going to say. The words left his brain as soon as he saw Fathi, who looked a little worried and haggard, as if he hadn’t slept either.

  “Grandfather!” Fathi exclaimed. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Ikraam watched the amir straighten up, his expression a mixture of defensiveness and anger. “You wander in and out of my harem freely,” he snapped. “Your betrothed must think I raised you as a barbarian. She is a gently reared maiden.”

  Ikraam wasn’t surprised to see the relief on Fathi’s face when his grandfather called Ikraam a maiden.

  “I’m a product of my times,” Fathi said. “And a man who would like to have his marriage start in harmony. So, Grandfather, I’m going to ask your leave to talk with Ikraam alone before you deal with Hashim. As much as you don’t want to think about it, a marriage is between two people. Not tribes or families. So I want to do my own negotiations with Ikraam.”

  “But not until after I make you and your grandfather coffee,” Ikraam protested. “And I’m properly veiled.”

  Fathi looked at him with a small smile on his face. Ikraam busied himself with the coffee maker. He was glad when Sabah emerged from their room, properly dressed and carrying a veil and headscarf for him. He couldn’t do anything with his hair, but he was happy he could cover it at least.

  “We can talk out on the balcony?” he asked Fathi.

  He hastily put down his coffee and went out there. The amir opened his mouth to protest, but Ikraam shook his head. “We need to talk, and we don’t want anyone with us. Are you implying your grandson has no honor?”

  The amir looked annoyed Ikraam had questioned him, but Ikraam needed to know what Fathi was going to say more than he gave a fig about propriety. In addition, Fathi knew he wasn’t a woman, so he wasn’t going to try anything improper with him, as much as Ikraam wanted to be naked underneath the man.

  “Is Saumer somewhere in the harem?” Sabah asked.

  Ikraam shook his head. “I haven’t seen him, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t take one of the other rooms as his own.”

  Sabah laughed. “The amir and I will act like he is here as a proper chaperone.”

  Ikraam was amused Sabah thought she needed one with a man who was old enough to be her grandfather, but it was flattering to the amir. He looked amazed Sabah had even thought that about him, and a little prideful.

  Ikraam joined Fathi out on the balcony. He found him studying the outside wall of the building.

  “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to navigate that in the dark,” Fathi said.

  Ikraam followed his gaze. It didn’t look safe to walk in the light, never mind at night. “It was still a romantic gesture,” he assured him.

  “Just because I didn’t break my neck doing so,” Fathi said.

  They were silent, neither one wanting to be the first to bring up the matter of Ikraam’s manhood.

  “Do you like dressing as a woman?” Fathi blurted out.

  Ikraam frowned. That wasn’t a question he had ever expected to be asked. “I’m used to the veil,” he admitted. “In fact, I was very uncomfortable being unveiled with your grandfather.”

  “I want to ask why,” Fathi said, “but I’m not stupid. Bahiyya wasn’t going to give up control to a baby. That’s why she married Hashim. He’s weak.”

  “She hated my mother.” Ikraam sighed. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t a woman until I was older. My mother wanted me to survive. She loved me and Sabah.” He paused. “I’m not angry with what she did, since I’ve felt Bahiyya’s anger also.”

  Fathi turned and looked at him. “I’m not angry with you. It’s not like you had a choice. However, I’m not going to marry Sabah either.”

  Ikraam turned to look at him, his mouth open to argue with Fathi.

  Fathi smiled at him. “I will protect her from her mother. Ghalib was sent back to his people this morning. If we were facing the right direction, you could see him riding out. I don’t care what story he spins for his people.”

  “The din Qamar tribe is poor. I doubt there will be trouble,” Ikraam said. “I didn’t know why Bahiyya was courting them in the first place.”

  “I think I can make some sort of arrangements for Sabah,” Fathi said. “I was thinking some sort of school, so she can get an education. If she wants to go to university, she can. There might be some nasty rumors about her, but I think she could survive those.”

  “You’re a man of honor to care for a woman who is no relation to you,” Ikraam said softly.

  “She could be,” Fathi said. “That’s up to you.” He paused. “Oh crap, that sounds like I’m some sort of villain in a bad movie. I phrased that wrong.”

  “You still want to marry me?” Ikraam demanded, his voice rising in volume. He remembered to lower it before he hissed, “Have you forgotten I’m a man!”

  Ikraam wanted it. He wanted to be Fathi’s, even if he didn’t know him. It wasn’t because of the lust he felt for him. That was important but he had other reasons too. Fathi’s kindness, shown by his care for a girl unrelated to him. His attempt for them to know each other before they married. By the way he still defended Ikraam, even after knowing he was a man, and most importantly, the way Fathi had kept his secret from his grandfather. Fathi was giving him his heart’s desire, but why was his stomach feeling like it was filled with butterflies?

  “I’ve remembered what you told me,” Fathi said quietly. “And that you only told me so I would marry Sabah. Half of me is mad, wondering when you were going to tell me, and the other half is overjoyed you’re a man. I’m gay. I would prefer to marry a man rather than a woman.”

  Ikraam’s eyes widened, and he didn’t know what to say. All he could do was stare. Fathi sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned away from Ikraam and took a step toward the room before Ikraam could croak out, “Wait!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  FATHI wasn’t surprised Ikraam looked at him like he had announced he liked goats instead of men. Homosexuality wasn’t an acceptable choice. He would go in to Grandfather and tell him the marriage was off. But congratulations, you got a bouncing teenage girl as a great-granddaughter out of this mess. Getting Sabah out of Bahiyya’s clutches would erase any debt Grandfather had with the tribe. Then Fathi would finally confess he was gay to his grandfather and leave. He doubted Grandfather would want to speak to him ever again. He was mentally preparing for Grandfather’s anger and disgust when Ikraam spoke.

  Fathi turned to him, his heart in his throat, wondering what Ikraam was going to say.

  “You would take a man as a wife?” Ikraam asked, with a quiver in his voice.

  “I don’t think it works that way exactly,” Fathi said, wondering why this was Ikraam’s question. “And it’s legal. Well, not here, but in parts of Europe and in the United States. I wouldn’t have a wife. I would have a husband.”

  “But if you wanted a man as your husband, he would have to be your wife here,” Ikraam pointed out. There was an obvious hesitation with his words, as he was trying to pick them carefully. “Since the one you wanted could be with you only in that manner.”

  “Or else I would have to
hide what we meant to each other,” Fathi snapped. “I don’t like it. But I love my family. I don’t want them hurt. And knowing I was gay would hurt my grandfather.”

  “The amir is a proud man,” Ikraam said. “But he loves you. He would love you no matter what. I have had that and lost it.”

  Fathi nodded, knowing what Ikraam was referring to. He knew his parents wouldn’t have cared he was gay. Yet as much as he loved his grandfather, the man was a product of his time. He wasn’t certain Grandfather could accept he was gay.

  “I….”

  “You are a kind man,” Ikraam said. “And I am grateful for the care you have offered for Sabah.”

  “I don’t want a pity marriage,” Fathi snapped. He wanted Ikraam, but he didn’t want the man in his bed because he thought he owed him. Ikraam needed to be there because he wanted to be and no other reason. “And I’m not a monster to walk away from a girl who needs my help.”

  “Pity isn’t the emotion you’re filling me with,” Ikraam muttered, his eyes downcast.

  Fathi blinked when he heard that. He wanted to cheer, but he wasn’t certain he knew what Ikraam was talking about. There were many emotions he could be causing in Ikraam. But… by Allah, he would have sworn he heard lust in Ikraam’s voice.

  Fathi stepped closer to Ikraam, getting into his personal space. “What am I causing you to feel?” he asked huskily.

  Ikraam’s eyes flew open, and he blushed. Fathi noticed Ikraam was uncomfortable with him this close. He briefly thought about the years Ikraam must have spent keeping people at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his secret. But closer up, Fathi noticed his long lashes and the amber flecks in Ikraam’s eyes. His hair was thick and loose, falling to his waist, not contained by the head covering Sabah had given him. Ikraam’s veil was sheer enough that Fathi could see his full lips. Fathi noted Ikraam was the right height to kiss and cuddle in private.

  “Fathi?” Ikraam asked breathlessly.

  “What emotion?” Fathi asked, moving a shade closer. Was it so bad he was pleased Ikraam couldn’t move away from him, the chest-high outer wall trapping him neatly?

  Ikraam tilted his head back to look at him in confusion. Fathi smiled wolfishly and went in for the kill. He moved Ikraam’s veil to the side and kissed him deeply on the lips.

  IKRAAM wanted to gasp when Fathi moved his veil, but he was too shocked to. Shock turned into pleasure when Fathi kissed him. He melted under his lips, his body molding into Fathi’s with a moan of pleasure. He didn’t know what to do with his hands for a second, but he decided just to wrap them around Fathi so he wouldn’t stop kissing him. It was so wrong; he shouldn’t be enjoying Fathi’s kiss. The pressure on his lips had been light. It had increased when he tried to entangle the man with him. And it wasn’t like Fathi was unwilling. His staff was hard against Ikraam’s body, as stiff as his was. He rubbed against Fathi as if he was in rut. He was, and seconds from tearing off his own thawb so he could rub against Fathi like he was Saumer, marking him as his.

  “Ikraam,” Fathi moaned. “I… I….”

  “It wouldn’t be pity,” Ikraam whimpered. “Please….”

  Fathi shuddered and stepped back, unwrapping Ikraam’s arms. “My grandfather’s in the other room, and I still want you,” he muttered.

  Ikraam panted, wondering what he was supposed to do. He was seconds from kneeling so Fathi could mount him.

  “Fathi,” Ikraam growled. “I lusted after you from the first time I met you.” He shuddered and regained control of his emotions. He needed to think now. “But it was you, the person you are, I wanted after I met you. And… and I thought I could never have you.”

  “You were a woman, and I wanted you,” Fathi said. “I thought I was going crazy even as I jerked off over you.”

  Ikraam blushed with pleasure while muttering, “At least you had the privacy to do that.”

  Fathi laughed but sobered quickly. “We still need to talk.”

  FATHI wasn’t thinking too straight. He was hard, and Ikraam was right there and in the same condition. It was enough to make him go back to kissing the man. However, kissing and other things could come later. Right now they needed to…. He couldn’t even think about what was needed, because all he could think of was how Ikraam felt against him. He forced himself to take a step backward. It didn’t really help, but it put some distance between them.

  “Fathi,” Ikraam said quietly. It was a command and a plea and filled with longing.

  “I want to marry you,” Fathi blurted out. “I don’t care about what happens after that. We can get married in America if you want to.”

  “We don’t need to get married in America,” Ikraam said, straightening out his veil. He added shyly, “I don’t even know where it is.”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Fathi said. “Now, can I tell Grandfather we’re to be married?”

  “Bahiyya knows that I have told you the truth,” Ikraam said.

  “The djinn can take Bahiyya,” Fathi snapped. “How long did she think this charade was going to last? I think I would have been able to tell you weren’t a woman on our wedding night.”

  At the thought of making love with Ikraam, Fathi wanted to go back to kissing him. Yet they couldn’t do that because kissing would lead to other things. He was certain Ikraam didn’t know anything about the logistics of gay sex, but he wouldn’t let that small problem stop him. He had to stay away from Ikraam before they went too far… at least before they were married.

  “Bahiyya hoped to be far away from this place when it happened,” Ikraam said dryly.

  “And that is why she didn’t want the tribe here,” Fathi exclaimed.

  Ikraam nodded. “Bahiyya thought your grandfather wouldn’t bother to chase after her for the insult.” Ikraam was silent for a second. “Having met him, I know your grandfather would have scoured the deserts to redress his honor.” He sighed. “My sister isn’t as wise as she would like to think she is, and people aren’t as stupid as she wants them to be.”

  “But you would be amenable to having me announce to Grandfather we’ve agreed to be married?” Fathi asked.

  “I don’t think amenable is the correct word,” Ikraam said. “But yes, I will marry you.”

  “If you wish to be my groom instead of my wife—” Fathi started.

  Ikraam sighed. “I don’t care what the world calls me, so long as I’m yours.”

  “As I will be yours,” Fathi promised. “Though I feel guilty.”

  He felt he would be, since as the Americans said, “You can’t eat your cake and have it too.” He would be respectfully married to a woman and have a man as his spouse. It seemed too good to be true.

  “I was raised as a woman. Do you think I would be comfortable as a man?” Ikraam asked. “The important thing is that we know who we are.”

  Fathi wanted to kiss him again as soon as Ikraam said that. They would work everything out. All that mattered was they would do so together. As strange as it was, since they had only known each other for a few days, he felt he could spend the rest of his life with Ikraam.

  “Thank you,” Fathi said softly. “I thought this would be a disaster.”

  “As did I,” Ikraam said, leaning against Fathi. “But it has worked out.”

  IKRAAM couldn’t believe he would be allowed his heart’s desire. He followed Fathi back into the harem, eager to start his new life with his husband, wherever that would be. He felt boneless and as if nothing could touch him. All that went away when he saw Bahiyya in the harem with the amir.

  His sister was dressed well, properly veiled and all her jewelry glinting in the sunlight. She had been well dowered, as befitting the daughter of a sheikh. He had less than nothing, though, and a small nub of jealousy settled in his stomach.

  “I didn’t tell you Rayyan and I went shopping,” Fathi said, as if he could read his mind. “I… I bought a lot of jewelry for you. I didn’t know what else I could do to make you feel welcome.”

  “Yo
ur kindness is a balm,” Ikraam said, the nub dissolving at his words. It was silly, but to be properly dressed for once, with necklaces, bracelets, and earrings would be wonderful. “I have some, but I fear my dower is a pittance.”

  Fathi leaned over and hugged him. Ikraam felt his love and relaxed. There was nothing his sister could do to him, since Bahiyya had said he was no longer her problem.

  “Good morning to you, sister,” Ikraam murmured, aware his lips were swollen from Fathi’s kisses. He knew she knew it too, even if they were hidden by his veil.

  “I come to the harem and find Sabah—” Bahiyya shrieked.

  “I was within calling distance,” Ikraam pointed out. “And we are all family here, are we not?”

  “Only if you marry Sheikh Fathi.” Bahiyya lowered her voice to a croon. “I was just going to tell the amir—”

  “Why wouldn’t Ikraam marry me?” Fathi asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. “We are betrothed. I have studied the marriage contract between our two families. I can find no fault in it.” He paused and smiled wolfishly. “In fact, it was very well written. There was no reason for Sheikh Hashim to do more than deliver his sister-by-marriage to us. We could be feasting right now, except for his foolishness.” He smiled at Bahiyya. “I would ask him for Ikraam’s hand in marriage, but I know enough that you are the head of your tribe and not him.”

  Bahiyya stared daggers at Fathi. Fathi turned to his grandfather. “I have your blessing for this marriage?”

  The amir laughed. “Of course. I will fetch the contracts. Now let us leave so Ikraam can get ready for the wedding.”

  “But that is one of Ikraam’s better thawbs,” Sabah commented, her eyes wide and innocent. “And she had no time to make a wedding dress.”

  The amir turned to look at what Ikraam was wearing and then at what Bahiyya had on. “I see,” he said mildly.

  “Your summons was unexpected,” Bahiyya said weakly.