ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  And not in a positive way.

  The third time, he actually came with a job for her. She was still working on the wedding dress for the woman, but it would be done soon and of course she would take any job given to her by a crown prince.

  He commissioned her to create a dress for his mother. It had to be bright ruby red with gold lining and embroidery and even gems embedded in it. He told Keisha that it would have to be nothing but the best for his mother—and he also said that was why he had come to her.

  When she had finished with that job, she was given another. This one was again a dress, but for one of his sisters—the littlest if she remembered correctly—and it had to be in cherry blossom pink.

  Again and again he returned to her with more work, commissioned beautiful dresses from her. Ones that she would never wear, of course, but were beautiful all the same and on occasion she had wished she might wear one.

  Then, one day, he came to her with a job that was slightly different than the others. He said he wanted it in a burgundy color with embroidered flowers lining the edges of it. He had given her the measurements and Keisha assumed it was once again for a family member, but when it was complete, he wrapped it up in a box and presented it to her.

  He had told her, “I asked you to make it, because I could not find a single person here with more skill and I wanted you to have the very best.”

  She had never had the courage to wear it, but she longed to. She still had the strange, wonderful gift and remembered how he had snuck away from his guards that day, only for a moment, and pressed a searing kiss to her lips. How he had asked for a thousand more kisses—and then more—until she wanted nothing more than to be with him always.

  The clearing of a throat brought Keisha back to the present and reminded her that his two sisters were still sitting there in the room.

  They had fixed their faces and once more wore inviting, kind expressions. “Such a romantic story,” Naiad said, though the words came out slightly dry. “A true love story, would you not agree, Mahira?”

  Mahira blinked once blankly, then immediately covered it up by a vehement nod. “Oh, yes! Yes, of course! True love, indeed.”

  Keisha laughed a little nervously. “You… you think so?”

  Naiad smiled sweetly and nodded. “Oh, of course,” she answered casually, glancing down at her fingernails, manicured to perfection. “My brother has always been so romantic. Do you remember Jahan?”

  Mahira frowned, thinking, then her eyes brightened and she grinned widely. “Oh! Jahan! Of course, I remember her.”

  “She was such a lovely girl, was she not?” Naiad continued, now talking mostly to her younger sister rather than Keisha.

  Mahira nodded. “Oh yes. Very lovely. And so young.”

  Glancing between the two women, Keisha felt herself begin to frown. “Who is Jahan?”

  “I am sorry,” Naiad apologized, though her tone suggested that perhaps she was not so very sorry in reality. “I thought perhaps my brother had already mentioned her.”

  Keisha shook her head. “No. Should he have?”

  “Well, it is not my place to say one way or the other, of course,” Naiad continued, glancing at her sister. “But I would have thought it were important to know something of the sort.”

  Keisha’s frown deepened. “What sort?”

  “The romantic sort, of course! What have we been talking about?”

  Keisha felt her heart skip a beat, then stutter as she tried to process the words. Romantic? Who was this Jahan and why would his sisters know of her and not of Keisha? More importantly, why did Keisha know nothing of her?

  Feeling herself begin to tremble, she could not bring herself to ask another question, but the sisters continued to speak anyway.

  “A little short, was she not?” asked Mahira, oblivious to Keisha’s growing unrest.

  Naiad shook her head. “No, you are thinking of Dunya.”

  “Oh, of course! I had all but forgotten her. Was she the one who loved the soft fabrics?”

  “No, that was Fareeda,” corrected Naiad again. “But I understand the mistake. They did look so much alike.”

  Keisha was shaking at this point. Who were all these other women? Why had she heard of none of them? Had Ahmed been keeping so many secrets from her? The sisters continued to chat about these women—all of whom had apparently been beautiful and demure, perfect for fitting in with the family—even as Keisha felt herself spiraling out of control.

  She needed to see Ahmed. She needed answers straight from him.

  Standing abruptly, startling both the sisters, she said in a breathless voice, “I thank you for your… your hospitality, but I must leave. I have… things to take care of.”

  Naiad forced her expression to be politely sad, but beneath it the gleam in her eyes was obvious. She had intended for this reaction from Keisha. Mahira beside her sister had not even bothered to try and hide her glee at Keisha’s sudden announcement. She smiled like a cat, fierce and victorious.

  Keisha knew then that they had set her up and did not want a single thing to do with her, but the damage had been done just the same. Clearly, they wanted her out, but had they used the truth to try and achieve that end?

  She could not say. And the only person who could confirm or deny these things was Ahmed. She had to find him now and get some answers before she suddenly found herself falling apart amidst these awful, scheming people. His family.

  Oh, what had she gotten herself into?

  Keisha turned on her heel and walked pointedly towards the door. She could hear soft, barely disguised snickers coming from the bed, the two sisters already celebrating their victory, but she did not care. She only wanted to hear the truth from Ahmed now.

  Reaching for the door, Keisha jumped a little when there was a knock on the other side of it.

  “Keisha, my love? Are you in there?”

  It was Ahmed. His voice immediately eased something within her and she felt better. More than better, she was suddenly absolutely certain that the words of his sisters were nothing more than carefully laid traps for her to step into.

  She would ask him about these other women and he would provide her with easy, obvious explanations for all of them. He would put her mind at ease.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the sisters had paused and both of their smiles had dropped. Their mouths were pulled down into matching frowns. They were worried that their brother was here already and that gave Keisha even more confidence.

  She reached for the door and pushed it open, revealing the drawn, slightly harried expression of the man she loved staring back at her.

  Chapter Eight

  Ahmed enveloped Keisha in his strong arms, cradling her firmly, but gently to his chest. She seemed rather upset and with both of his oldest sisters sitting on the bed, staring at her like that, he could guess as to why. Especially after Lilac’s attempts only moments before to try and distract him. He should have gotten here sooner.

  “Shh,” he told her sweetly. “Ignore my conscience free sisters and their cruel words. I am here now and will take you somewhere much more suited.”

  Keisha looked up into his face and while she seemed wholeheartedly relieved to have him there with her now, she also looked uncertain, wary even. He wondered at what his sisters might have said and realized that they knew all of his history, the good and the bad of it, and perhaps Keisha did not. He realized that tonight was quickly about to turn into a night of confessions.

  Even so, he would bear them as honestly as he could, with hopes of keeping their blossoming love and marriage intact.

  Ahmed lifted his eyes to his sisters, staring down each one of them in turn before speaking harshly. “I do not know what words you have spoken to them this day, but I will ask you to never be so harsh with her again. She is your sister now, too, and you will treat her with that respect so long as I am your brother.”

  Mahira jumped up from the bed, immediately looking contrite, but Naiad w
ould not be so easily moved. She folded her arms solidly across her chest and sent Ahmed a glare of narrowed eyes and a straight line of her lips. Even as Mahira came towards Ahmed and clasped her hands together, staring up at him with pleading eyes, he focused on his eldest sister. His fury simmered just beneath the surface and she was intelligent enough that he did not doubt her capabilities any more than he might doubt the depths she might go.

  “Oh, please, Ahmed, do not be cross with me!” Mahira pleaded with me, her voice almost like a whimper and hardly pleasing. “We were only teasing the poor thing. We meant her no ill will. No harm. And see? She is fine. Are you not fine, Keisha, dear?”

  Keisha looked up from Ahmed’s chest to peer over at her new sister in law. Hardly a look that suggested she was fine, but after a moment she forced a smile onto her sweet face and answered Mahira sweetly. “I hope that we shall be good friends before this has all come and past.”

  Mahira stared at her blankly for a long moment, clearly not expecting such a response, but out of the corner of his eye, Ahmed saw Naiad humph indignantly, looking away from Mahira and Keisha as though disgusted. Of all the family, Naiad was the least welcoming of those she felt not worthy to be in the presence of royalty.

  Tugging her closer again, Ahmed nodded at his sisters and then turned away to move back down the hall, taking Keisha with him.

  As they walked down the hall, they were mostly silent. Ahmed had much he wanted to discuss with his new wife—and many questions to ask, mostly revolving around his sneaky and suspicious sisters—but that would have to wait until they were in far more private quarters. Here, the palace had ears everywhere. Guards would whisper and those whispers would trail through the halls and sneak into the rooms until all of his family knew what was going on between the lovers before they even fully understood.

  He could not risk giving his family still more ammunition to use against her.

  More than once, Keisha glanced up at him as they walked down the hall, questions shining in her eyes. He did not know whether she was aware that they were not yet in a good place to talk or if she simply was unsure of how to broach the many subjects with him that she surely must want to talk about, but either way, he was grateful for her silence.

  They walked what felt like the length of the palace and turned a sharp corner, finally arriving at a large set of double doors engraved with elephants, trees, flowers, and encrusted with what very well might have been real jewels.

  Keisha stared in awe at the door as Ahmed let his arm fall away from her and strode forward. He pushed the door open easily, then offered his hand towards his wife. She smiled uncertainly at him and accepted his hand. They walked into the room together, then he closed the doors behind them.

  The room was large, larger by maybe three times than the last one Keisha was in and he hoped that it would please her. It was his private room, and while it had not be decorated with her in mind as they had only been in a relationship for a year, he hoped it was still to her liking.

  There were bronzed and marbled furniture throughout the room, the chairs softened by ruby red satin cushions and the large windows covered by large, wispy drapes that were the color of early corn. They allowed for soft light to fill the room, though there were lamps, candles, and of course the electricity that had been wired through the old palace for when it got dark.

  The bed took up a large section of the room, big enough to fit a dozen people if it needed to, with deep purple satin sheets and a top blanket that was thick and luxurious, colored with the careful designs that lined the palace walls. There were a dozen pillows thrown across it at the very least, and more spread out across the chairs and the lounge couch set just below the largest window towards the back wall. Vases were filled with polished stones, clear water, and brightly colored flowers from the garden.

  It was a beautiful room, though Ahmed usually did not think much to it one way or the other. It was simply a gilded cage, meant to make him comfortable as his parents attempted to rule all aspects of his life.

  He of course did not mention this to Keisha, because her eyes were filled with wonder and her mouth was beginning to form a delighted smile at the sight of the room.

  “Do you like it?” he asked carefully, standing nearby, but not so close as to overwhelm or smother her. He wanted desperately for her to be comfortable.

  She stepped farther into the room, spinning around slowly so that she could take in the entirety of it. Finally, after long moments of silent, she finally nodded her head and titled her gaze downward so that she could meet his eyes. “Yes, I do. It is so beautiful, I cannot imagine how you have spent your life in such a wondrous place.”

  He lifted his shoulders slightly in a small shrug. Still watching her beautiful face, he answered, “I have never noticed the beauty so readily as I do today. I see you standing here amidst the palace and finally see its potential. A potential it could not reach without your presence. You bring out the best in everything around you.”

  Her smile dropped slightly as she replied, “Not in your family. Not in your sisters.”

  Letting out a sigh, Ahmed shook his head. “I know there is much to talk about, but I would like to say one thing first: My family is overreacting because they do not know what else to do. They have never seen me so defiant because they have never seen me so in love. They will come around and see you for the amazing woman you are.”

  Keisha smiled tentatively at that, but it dropped back again quickly. Pulling her lip in, she worried it with her teeth. After a moment, she finally spoke again, asking of the things that weighed heavily on her mind. “Your sisters mentioned that perhaps you have been so in love before.”

  Frowning, Ahmed immediately shook his head and took a step closer to her. “What are you talking about? There has never been any woman I have cared for as I do you.”

  She did not seem appeased. “Then who is Jahan? Or Fareeda? Dunya?” Once she began to list off the names his sisters had supplied her easily with—names he regrettably recognized—she could not seem to stop herself. “And how many more might make the list had I given your sisters more time? How many of them had you promised a wedding and a life at the palace? In this very room?”

  It was clear that she was beyond worked up. She was not angry exactly, no that would be too simple an explanation. Instead, she looked a mixture of all things that might qualify as upset. Of course there was a smidgeon of anger, indicated by her flushed cheeks and her crossed arms, but there was also sadness and hurt lined in her now shiny, watery eyes. And there was uncertainty laced along the tension in her shoulders. And maybe even a bit of defiance in the lift of her chin and the straight line of her long neck, as though she were ready to fight against his sisters and their nasty words, or these other women who flitted like apparitions through her mind, or even him should he decide that things between them could no longer be right.

  It was a thing Ahmed had always found so very attractive in her: complexity and strength. She would not allow herself to be swept away under some rug without a fight. She had come too far now and she would see this through to whatever end it had to meet, happily ever after or otherwise.

  Taking a slow breath, Ahmed prepared himself. He could not and would not lie about this, though his next words would not be strictly speaking easy—not for either of them.

  “Fareeda was my mother’s first choice,” he began with the easiest one to explain away, because he had not cared much for Freeda even when he had given her the chance that his mother had so diligently begged for. “She was beautiful, of course, and very well connected. My mother has always been quite fond of her family and would be willing to overlook any flaws in their child if it meant I might settle down with a girl from such a family.”

  Keisha had frozen as soon as the words left his mouth, though it did not look like she had completely moved towards the rage he was waiting for. Instead, she looked cautious and suspicious, but she was giving him a chance to explain himself.

  He
promised himself silently that he would not waste it and he would not give his sisters any more fuel by lying about these women. “We entertained each other for several months, but it was mostly from a distance because I could scarcely make myself stay alone in a room with her for more than a few minutes. She was a dull, dreadful thing with ambitions for the throne more than any affection for me.” He paused, studying his new wife. She had relaxed slightly at his admission, but she was wisely waiting for the rest, because there were still two more names on that list that needed to be explained. “Towards the end, I was so repulsed by her that I told my mother that she could either stop forcing Fareeda upon me, or she could remain without grandchildren from me for the rest of her days. The next day it was over and I have not spoken to Fareeda since.”

  Keisha’s arms had fallen and there was a little wrinkle in her brow where her eyebrows had pulled together in confusion or worry, but she no longer looked ready for a fight. It was progress. “Why would your mother insist on someone who clearly never made you happy?”

  Ahmed shrugged his shoulders. “Because she believes that happiness is something that comes through sacrifice.” He smiled wryly, taking a step towards Keisha as he thought of all he had risked for her. “Perhaps there is truth to that, but it is not for her to choose what sacrifices I am to make.”

  Before she allowed Ahmed to wrap his arms around her again, she asked, “What about the others?”