The Secret of the Sheikh's Betrothed
Page 17
“I agree,” the amir replied. Bahiyya relaxed, but then he continued. “However, you knew for years there was a contract, and yet there was no preparation for this wedding.” His tone was mild.
“My sister is one who wishes the world was the way she wanted it, and not the way it was,” Ikraam said. “She wished to keep my skills within the tribe and pretended there was no contract.”
He looked at Bahiyya, daring her to tell the amir the truth.
Bahiyya glared at Ikraam. “You have been a pebble in my shoe since you were born.”
“Sabah will be staying with me,” Ikraam continued as if she hadn’t spoken. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known of her loathing. “It will be better for all.” He stepped closer to his sister. “And don’t think false tears will bring her back into your grasp.”
“Is she a bribe for the sheikh to marry you?” Bahiyya sneered.
“He wants me as I am,” Ikraam purred. “There is nothing you could say that could hurt me in his eyes.”
And that meant more to him than anything in the universe. Fathi prized him, which was all that mattered.
Bahiyya’s eyes went to the amir. Ikraam followed them. “He loves his grandsons. He will not move against them. And if this marriage makes Fathi happy…. You don’t want to anger him. The amir would make a dangerous enemy,” Ikraam warned. “Do you want to do so, sister? To throw away the power you have now, over Sabah and me?”
“My husband will bring the contracts,” Bahiyya said grudgingly. Her voice sharpened, even as she cooed, “But how will you hold a farah here?”
Ikraam wondered if Bahiyya had planned this from the beginning. The celebration was the public gathering of the community to acknowledge the wedded state of the new couple. There was no other ceremony than that. There were only servants and family here, nothing more. Bahiyya could claim no marriage had taken place, as his closest relative and one who had legal power over him.
Fathi smiled back at her. “Since you didn’t bring the tribe here, my grandfather will arrange for the feast back home.”
“Of course, I have one planned already,” the amir gloated. “So gather your husband, and we’ll sign the contracts.”
Bahiyya took one look at Fathi and the amir and bowed. Ikraam didn’t think she would admit defeat, but his sister knew she wouldn’t win this argument. He felt his knees buckle, but before he could fall, Fathi caught him.
“We’re getting married,” Ikraam said.
Fathi laughed. “You sound like I did,” he sobered. “Ikraam, I will not take liberties with you.”
Ikraam leaned against him. “We would be married.”
THE amir was beaming at them, but all Fathi felt was guilt. He needed to tell Grandfather the truth. He looked down at Ikraam and hugged him.
Ikraam looked up and resting his head against Fathi’s shoulder. “I will go and get ready,” he murmured, adding as if he could read his mind, “And it’s… freeing to tell the truth.”
“Sabah,” Ikraam said as he stepped away, “I wish to primp a little for my wedding. Come help me.”
Fathi was relieved and amazed as Ikraam walked away. He trusted Fathi to do the right thing. It was humbling and exalting at the same time.
“Grandfather, I need to talk to you,” Fathi said. His stomach was in knots, and he was terrified, but this was the right thing to do.
“Yes, Fathi?”
Fathi took a deep breath. “I’m gay.”
Grandfather looked at him. “Of course, you’re getting married….” He stopped. “You mean it in the other way? The way the Westerners use that word? You’re a lover of men.”
Fathi bowed his head. “I am. That was the major objection I had to getting married.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Grandfather demanded.
“Because I was afraid,” Fathi said. “Ikraam showed me that I couldn’t be afraid anymore.”
Grandfather walked over to Fathi and hugged him. “I would still love you, no matter what.”
They stood for a minute hugging each other until Grandfather asked, “What about Ikraam? She must know this.”
“I do,” Ikraam said, appearing behind them. “Fathi has been very honest with me. And I with him.”
“I don’t understand,” Grandfather said. “I know this is an arranged marriage, but it will not be a true marriage for either one of you!”
“But, Amir—” Ikraam started.
“Call me Grandfather.”
“It will be a true marriage, since I am a man,” Ikraam finished.
Grandfather looked at the two of them, stunned. “But….”
“Bahiyya has hidden Ikraam’s sex from the world since his birth,” Fathi said quietly.
“I will—” Grandfather started.
“It is of no matter,” Ikraam said softly, laying a hand on his arm.
Grandfather looked at them again, a slight frown on his face. He turned his attention fully to Fathi, and his face brightened. “I will always love you, no matter what. If… if this marriage makes you happy… that is what I want.”
Fathi let go of the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He would not lose his grandfather because of the way he was.
Grandfather smiled at Ikraam. “Although this is all… unexpected, I can tell you will be wonderful for my grandson. If this is what you want as well…?”
Ikraam nodded, and Fathi took his hand.
“Well, then.” Grandfather looked down at their intertwined hands. “We have a wedding to celebrate.”
Epilogue
IKRAAM tilted his head back and looked up at his husband. “I finally get to see where you work?”
Fathi smiled down at him. “It’s not much different from what I do at al-Saʽd al-Maṭar. Grandfather just wants to see us.”
They had spent the last few weeks together, getting to know each other during the day and exploring each other’s bodies at night, showing the depths of their passion. Grandfather and Rayyan had kept things under control at the company, but Grandfather was now insisting Fathi had to show Ikraam the city. He thought it was more that Grandfather wanted the company to see Ikraam. Rayyan had confided in him that there was a rumor going around that Grandfather had fired him and taken control again.
Fathi had moved into the fortress, saying it wouldn’t be fair to Saumer if they moved into the city. The leopard had taken over the place, feeling the goats there were an acceptable tribute from his humans. And Fathi could find almost everything there that was needed, given that he discovered he could do work via a remote connection. The only reason he was back here was for Grandfather’s celebration, so he could show off his new “granddaughter”-by-marriage. And checking on Sabah, who had moved in with Grandfather, to look after him.
Ikraam had declared he didn’t like the city, from what little he had seen. It was much smellier and more crowded than he liked, as well as too odd, especially these things called elevators.
Fathi didn’t know what was going on and was suspicious about why Grandfather had insisted Ikraam look his best for this visit. Ece hadn’t been let go, since it would have been too confusing to train a new secretary and have Grandfather taking over the company again. She had been bothersome to him, but Ece wasn’t incompetent. Fathi was going to recommend Grandfather promote her instead of letting her go.
Fathi walked up to his office, his old one, since Grandfather had taken back the company for the most part. Fathi still had plenty to do, but he also had time to spend with his new husband. He glanced over at Ikraam. New wife. He had to remember it, since Ikraam was quite content to be his wife in public and his husband for their passionate nights. Now Ikraam was dressed at the height of fashion, his thawb, hijab, and niqab made of the finest materials. Fathi smiled as Ikraam chimed softly beside him, proudly wearing his dowry, including his mother’s jewels that he had saved, like a proper Bedouin woman.
Ece was sitting in front. Her eyes widened when she saw Ikraam, and her mouth tightened before she smoothe
d out her expression.
“I haven’t seen you in a while, Mr. al-Murzim,” Ece practically cooed. “Your grandfather is in a meeting and will be back in a few minutes. It just ran a little over.”
Ikraam hesitated, glanced up at Fathi, and then said softly, “It is Sheikh al-Murzim.”
Ece blinked at him. “I don’t understand.”
Ikraam said in a slightly stronger voice, “My husband’s proper title is sheikh.”
“Husband?” Ece echoed, her voice strident while glaring at Fathi. “You’re married?”
He saw the hope die in her eyes and be replaced with something ugly. Fathi knew he hadn’t given the woman any encouragement, but for some reason, she had continued to believe he was madly in love with her.
“We had been betrothed since birth,” Ikraam said.
Ikraam studied the woman. Fathi had mentioned he had had trouble with his secretary… administrative assistant was the word he had used. The woman was beautiful, and since she was not wearing a proper niqab, he could see it. Her dark hair was cut short, barely covered by a sheer veil. If he had been attracted to women, Fathi could have fallen in love with her.
“You never told me that!” Ece exclaimed. “I thought….”
“You never asked,” Rayyan said as he walked into the office.
“I didn’t see the need to,” Fathi said. “It was none of your business.”
“But…,” Ece protested.
Fathi said, “You worked for me. I could never think of you in that manner.”
Well, he couldn’t have, since he was gay, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Because you could never stop working long enough for me to tell you about your betrothal,” Grandfather said, striding into the room. “It looks like it has done you good.”
“Fathi has been a very good husband, Grandfather,” Ikraam said.
“I am enjoying living out of the city more than I could imagine,” Fathi added. “I have discovered a beauty there I have never thought of before.”
Grandfather beamed at them. “And that is all that I had wanted for you.” Grandfather turned to Ece. “Enough with your foolishness. My grandson is happy and has declared that he never had an interest in you. If you cannot accept this, it would be better if you leave.”
Ece looked at them. “This is my notice, then,” she said tightly before walking out the door.
Grandfather waited a moment. “She has been difficult. I thought it better to show her your happiness.”
“She—” Fathi started.
“Made her choice,” Grandfather said. “And you have made yours.”
Fathi looked over at Ikraam and smiled. “My marriage to Ikraam was unexpected, even if she was my betrothed. I thank you for taking matters into your own hands, Grandfather.”
And that was all he could say, looking at the joy that filled Ikraam’s eyes at his words.
FELICITAS IVEY is a frazzled help-desk tech at a university in Boston who wishes people wouldn’t argue with her when she’s troubleshooting what’s wrong with their computer. She lives with three cats who wish she would pay more attention to them, and not sit at a computer pounding on the keyboard. They get back at her by hogging most of the bed at night and demanding her attention during the rare times she watches TV or movies. She’s protected by her guardian stuffed Minotaur, Angenor, who was given to her by her husband, Mark. Angenor travels everywhere with her, because Felicitas’s family doesn’t think she should travel by her lonesome. They worry she gets distracted and lost too easily. Felicitas doesn’t think of it a getting lost, more like having an adventure with a frustrated GPS.
Felicitas knits and hoards yarn, firmly believing the one with the most yarn wins. She also is sitting on hordes of books, which still threaten to take over her house, even with e-books. Between writing and knitting, she brews beer, wine, mead, and flavored liqueurs. Felicitas also bakes, making cakes whenever she needs to work out an issue in her novels. Sometimes this leads to a lot of cakes. Her coworkers appreciate them, though, with the student workers buzzing about on a sugar high most of the time.
Felicitas writes urban fantasy, steampunk, and horror of a Lovecraftian nature, with monsters beyond space and time that think that humans are the tastiest things in the multiverse. Occasionally there’s a romance or two involved in her writing, with a happily-ever-after.
Website: www.felicitasivey.com
Facebook: Felicitas Ivey
Twitter: @felicitasivey
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Published by
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Secret of the Sheikh’s Betrothed
© 2017 Felicitas Ivey.
Cover Art
© 2017 Bree Archer.
http://www.breearcher.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
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ISBN: 978-1-63533-961-1
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63533-962-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017907133
Published November 2017
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America