ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  His sister grinned back at him, then shrugged her slight shoulders, batting her eyelashes feverishly. “Surely you won’t fault us for being curious!” she countered. Looping her arm through his, she began to escort him off to the right, detouring him from the hall he had been aiming to go down in search of Keisha. “After all, it is not every day our brother brings home a… woman.”

  She hesitated on that last word as though she’d been about to say something else, but reconsidered at the last moment. Most people thought of Lilac as just a silly, even stupid girl, but Ahmed knew better. She had the whole world fooled—including their sisters and parents alike—but he’d seen how she worried away at people with kindness and false innocence until she got what she wanted.

  She’d been doing it for years and up to this point it had never bothered him. This was all a game each of the children played with their royal parents, but he was beginning to quickly suspect that she was now using her wiles on him and he did not appreciate it.

  He glanced back over his shoulder, looking at the hallway he’d been about to go down. “That woman is my wife,” he told Lilac sternly, not even attempting to be light or teasing. “That makes her your new sister and I hope that you will treat her accordingly.”

  Her pretty face broke into a horrified scowl, just for a brief second, so quick that most would have missed it, but Ahmed had caught sight of it. She was furious at his new bride, and it was difficult to tell why—if it was just about her position being jostled yet again, or if it was more along the lines of their parents and had to do with Keisha’s status—but he’d seen it.

  And then the anger was gone. Her doe eyes were wide again and she had a sweet smile on her face. “Of course, dear brother! Anyone who has your affection, has mine, too.”

  Her voice was honeyed sweet and Ahmed did not believe it for even a single second. His lips pulled down in a frown and he stopped suddenly. At first, Lilac tried to keep going, trying to pull him insistently along by the crook of his arm, but he held fast. Finally frustrated, Lilac turned back around to him, a small pout on her face.

  “Ahmed, what are you doing? Won’t you walk with me?” Her eyes darted back towards the way they’d come and he realized then for certain what he’d already suspected: she was trying to distract him.

  Jerking his hand roughly out of Lilac’s grasp, much to her dissatisfaction, he pointedly turned on his heel and away from her. He began to walk away determinedly, pointedly even, back towards the hall he had initially been going down, all of a sudden absolutely certain that that was the hall Keisha was down.

  “Ahmed!” called Lilac after him, but he did not even turn to look at him. “Ahmed, you are being ridiculous! Come walk with me. We’ll look at the gardens!”

  She continued to call after him for a while, but he did not look back and did not break stride. He was starting to realize something slightly dreadful: like his parents, his three sisters were not going to welcome Keisha with open arms. It would be a constant battle between his family and his new wife to find some sort of peace and acceptance.

  The thought did more than just worry him; it terrified him. What if he could never get the lot of them to get along? What if they would forever be throwing spurs and barbs at each other, determined to make poor Keisha’s life miserable? And what of the baby? When it was born, would his parents find it in their hearts to accept the child? Would his sisters?

  These questions he was afraid to have answered, because he had a sinking suspicion that it would be a negative answer. They weren’t going to accept her any time soon and he was not sure how to change that.

  Ahmed had realized just how unrealistic his expectations had been when he announced his plans to marry to his mother and father the day before he’d rushed in to marry Keisha. His parents were never going to approve a marriage to a girl from such a low class and if he tried to force their hand officially, then they would push back with all their might.

  And a Sheikh had a lot of might.

  So, in desperation, with a lack of options, Ahmed stole into the night and found his love. He married her at a small ceremony instead of the one she deserved, fit for a queen, but he did not care and neither did she. So long as they were married.

  Ahmed had been naïve to think that being married would solve all of their problems with his family. Marriage, though it seemed permanent, was not entirely. There were ways to break it and he was certain that his mother was researching all of them now as he walked down that very hall.

  But a pregnancy was more. It was his child! Surely they could find some compassion for a child that was half his?

  Ahmed was not sure, but he knew one thing: he had to find Keisha before any of his family tried to dissuade her from their intentions.

  Chapter Seven

  Keisha awoke to the sounds of gentle knocking on the door. For a moment, she was disoriented and almost afraid.

  Where was she?

  This lavish, huge room was most definitely not her tiny little apartment there in town. Then she remembered that she was not in her apartment; she was in the palace. It all came rushing back to her and with a start, she realized that it had not been just a dream. Ahmed had actually married her and he had brought her home to meet his parents.

  Which had been a disaster.

  For a moment, she felt terrible. She remembered how the Sheikh’s wife, Ahmed’s mother, had fainted upon hearing the revelation that Keisha had been wed to her son. It was not exactly an encouraging reaction and his father, the Sheikh himself, hadn’t fared much better. Instead of fainting, he’d yelled and cursed and thrown orders that no one knew how to follow. He’d all but said he’d rather Keisha been dead than walk around as a living bride to his son.

  She shivered slightly at the thought. He would not have me killed, she chided herself, promising that this would not be nearly as bad as they all thought. It would just take some time to get used to.

  More than that, the Sheikh had seemed to have come around there at the end. The anger had fizzled out and died, replaced by a surprising tenderness once he realized that she was pregnant. Perhaps that trumped everything, even her lowly position. Perhaps that was why he’d turned so kind and offered her this lovely, lavish guest room to rest in.

  She hoped so.

  Her hands went to her stomach, rubbing affectionately though there was as of yet no bump to show that she was with child.

  Soon, she thought with a small smile. Soon I will be the size of a watermelon and I’ll waddle like a duck! And then I’ll give birth to a beautiful baby! Maybe even a boy, one who will grow to be the next Sheikh after his father.

  The thought made her giggle a little. Who would have ever thought that Keisha Singh—Keisha Kandalama now—would give birth to the next Sheikh?

  But even if the child was not a boy, she would be happy and love it with all her heart. It represented the best, happiest part of her and of Ahmed, she was sure. The child would be blessed with the best from both of them and it would grow into this world like a beautiful garden, she was sure of it.

  The knocking that had initially awoke Keisha came again and she realized that it was someone at her door. Thinking that it was perhaps Ahmed—she did not know how long she had dozed off or what he had been doing in the meantime, and was suddenly very anxious to see him—she slid off the plush, huge bed and put her bare feet on the cold marble floor. She shivered a little at it, then hurried across the room to the large double doors. Pulling them open, she was surprised—and just a little bit disappointed—to see that it was not Ahmed at all, but two lovely women.

  They were both smiling and had very similar features. Their faces heart shaped, their eyes dark, but lovely lined in thick black lashes and heavily done eyeliner. Their hair was just shy of being pitch black and hung down their backs almost to their rears in perfect, sleek plaits. One wore a purple Sari and the other wore a pink one, both lined in intricate gold designs and draped again by sheer, vibrant mesh and lace. They could have been twins,
they were so similar, but Keisha had no idea who they might be.

  The one in purple smiled sweetly and offered her hand. “I am Naiad, Ahmed’s oldest sister,” she announced, offering her hand which was delicate and soft. Keisha took it gently, then Naiad introduced the young woman beside her. “This is my younger sister, Mahira. Is not she lovely?”

  Mahira was indeed lovely and it seemed like she most certainly knew it, too. She grinned widely showing perfectly straight, white teeth against her ruby red lips. “You must be our newest sister,” Mahira said in an excited, but quiet voice as though this were a delicious secret to be gossiped and shared between the three of them.

  Keisha smiled hesitantly. Both of these girls—women—seemed very pleasant and they were so beautiful, both smiling happily at Keisha, that surely they were going to be the portion of Ahmed’s family that would accept her.

  Opening the door wider, Keisha stepped back to allow them inside. “Please, come in? I’m afraid I’ve been sleeping most of the day away and it is so very wasteful. I would much rather sit and visit with the both of you.”

  Mahira and Naiad both shared a look that might have almost been sly, but they smiled brightly at Keisha and thanked her quickly as they stepped into the room, as though worried she might change her mind at any moment. The two beautiful women hurried inside and gestured behind them at the door.

  “You should close that,” Naiad told Keisha casually, still smiling sweetly. “There are so many ears in the palace and I think I would rather have a moment for just us girls before all of this business spills out into the rest of the world, would not you?”

  Keisha was not entirely sure what to say to that. What business was she referring to? A stone of doubt dropped down into Keisha’s gut and she hesitated. Did they mean the wedding? The… the pregnancy? Or was she just talking about getting to know each other as sisters before the whole world turned upside down with the news of the only son of the Sheikh getting married?

  It was impossible to say, but Keisha hoped blindly for the last of those thoughts and nodded her head. “Of course.” She went to the door and pushed it shut until it latched with a soft echoing sound. When she turned back around to face the women, both of them were already seated on the bed, their long legs curled up beneath them in mirrored images of each other.

  Keisha was reminded of Siamese cats, their tails curled in opposite directions, but otherwise seating themselves in the exact same position. Even their painted, beautiful faces seemed catlike. Not necessarily sinister, but… mischievous. As though they always had something else going on rather than just what was floating around on the surface.

  Mahira patted the bed between them, indicating that Keisha should join them on the bed.

  Taking a deep breath, Keisha smiled at them and nodded. She walked over to the bed and slid up onto it, sitting on her shins rather than on one foot like the other two.

  “So,” Naiad began, her smile still in place as her head titled slightly to the side, a cat cocking its head curiously as it inspected something. Most likely prey. “How did you meet Ahmed?”

  Keisha swallowed heavily. Their meeting was innocent enough and she did not mind sharing the story, but would they continue with this question? Would they ask how long Keisha had been with Ahmed? Would they ask if… if the pregnancy was before the marriage? (Which it most certainly had to be.)

  Clearing her throat, she began. “It was a year ago,” Keisha told them and instantly both of the other women’s features seemed to freeze. They seemed a little shocked by the revelation.

  “A year ago?” Mahira repeated, eyes widening slightly as her face turned into a caricature of friendliness.

  Naiad nudged her sister and gave her a pointed look, before looking back to Keisha with that same friendly smile. Except now there was something else flashing in her eyes. Keisha was not sure what it was exactly, but she did not think she liked it. “My sister is merely surprised that you have known our brother for so long and we have yet to hear a single thing about you. It hardly seems fair for us to know so little and for you to know so much, would you not agree?”

  Keisha forced a smile, not explaining that the reason Ahmed’s family did not know of her was that they would not have approved of the involvement of a Sheikh’s son with a beggar woman. Surely, they knew that already anyway, did they not?

  Beginning again, Keisha said, “We met a year ago. It was in the market and Ahmed, of course, was with his bodyguards. He had two that day and they were… overzealous.”

  Ahmed was attractive. There were plenty of attractive men, Keisha supposed, each with a quality here or there that she found herself lingering on, but they never stayed in her mind for long. Keisha saw Ahmed only the one single time, but it was enough for his memory to lay embedded in her memory for the rest of her days. She was sure of it.

  He walked with confidence and a lingering boredom that seemed impossible to cure. The guards who flanked either side of him told the entire crowd that he was a man of great importance, but Keisha could not say for certain who he was.

  After all, there were foreign dignitaries who visited the city all the time and there were often council meetings or visiting nobles and any number of official people who might require guards such as those.

  Keisha was intrigued and looked on from afar, but she had no impression of Ahmed one way or the other—beyond his physical attractiveness. She made a point of not having an impression, because of those guards. They meant that she surely would have no reason to be within ten feet of the man.

  The knowledge kept her focused on her work. She was weaving fabrics together today for a woman whose daughter would be married in three months. The woman wanted nothing but the best and she had the money to throw at things like expensive fabrics and custom dresses. And rightly so. After all, this was her daughter’s first and only marriage. As far as Keisha knew, the woman had no other children anyway and this marriage was important to the overall well-being of the family.

  Keisha kept her head down and sewed the beautiful, white fabrics together. She even was allowed to use golden thread to embroider along the edges of the fabrics, something she had never been able to afford for herself.

  This would be the closest she ever came to such a lovely dress.

  She worked so hard that day that she did not even notice the slightly heated conversation or the man who appeared at her little station there in the market—she could have taken her work home with her, since she likely would not be taking on any new projects until this one was finished, but she enjoyed being outside amongst the people.

  It was not until the man cleared his voice, that Keisha realized someone was there.

  She jerked her head up and stared at him with eyes wide as saucers. It was the man from before, Ahmed. He was still flanked by his two guards and he wore an easy, brilliant smile. He was looking down at her curiously.

  “You have wonderful works here,” he commented brightly.

  Keisha swallowed harshly and stuttered out a, “Thank you.”

  His smile widened. “I was wondering if you were making that for your own wedding?” he asked casually, motioning to the fabric in her hands.

  At his suggestion, she actually laughed out loud. She shook her head immediately. “Oh, no! Of course not. This is far too expensive for me. I only make the dresses,” she explained lightly with a smile, but his own dropped slightly.

  “What do you mean too expensive for you? How could a woman as beautiful as you not deserve the most expensive luxury in the world?”

  He had asked so earnestly, so sincerely, that for a moment Keisha was speechless. She stared at him with wide open eyes and shook her head, taking a moment to come back to herself. A blush had crept across her cheeks, though she kept her chin up and met Ahmed’s eyes without flinching.

  “My beauty, as you put it, is not linked to my personal… wealth,” she explained carefully. “I am who I am and this is my job, my work. I have no time or money for frivolous things;
I need to work.”

  He seemed startled by her response and before he could come up with an answer, one of the guards stepped forward angrily. His voice was deep and menacing as he told her, “You will not address Prince Ahmed Kandalama in such a manner! He demands your full and complete respect and you will apologize immediately!”

  Keisha’s eyes widened. This man was not a traveling dignitary or some foreign ambassador. He was not a noble or some wealthy businessman who had amassed enough wealth to earn himself a guard.

  No, this was the Sheikh’s own only son.

  Keisha paled and momentarily was positive she would feint. She could feel herself begin to shake and she wondered if they would arrest her for speaking out of turn to a crown prince. But then the Prince held up a hand, patting the guard casually and almost patronizingly, still staring at Keisha.

  “Don’t be so harsh, Corrin,” he said easily, but with just the tiniest hint of force behind it. “I invited her honest answer. It was my misstep.” And then he winked at her.

  Keisha retold the story in earnest, forgetting where she was and who was sitting just across from her. Both of Ahmed’s sisters were watching her with eyes drawn to near slits and smiles fractured, only barely held in place by plaster or a personal determination.

  But Keisha didn’t even notice. She was so lost in that first memory of Ahmed and all the ones that followed. He’d continued to visit her after that. The first two times were… curious and he must have realized that soon people would begin to talk about them.