The Sheikh's Secret Bride (8 page)

Janna’s awoke with a horrible headache, her stomach knotted and her mouth dry. The mattress Hazim had placed her on was small and lumpy and smelled like musty old tube socks. At least he’d removed the tape from her mouth, though her wrists were still bound.

In the dim light of the bare bulb above, she scanned her surroundings, searching for some clue as to where he might be keeping her. He’d said he wouldn’t take her from the palace grounds, but the place was enormous. They could spend weeks looking for her and never find her.

Given the tarps on the floors and all the dust, this room either wasn’t used often or was under construction. Nassir had said both the north and the west wings of the palace were being renovated. That helped narrow her choices. A glimpse of hazy sunshine and greenery through the window on the far wall suggested she was somewhere close to the gardens. That narrowed it even farther. The north wing.

The angle of the sun’s rays told her it was still early in the morning. She’d lost track of time locked in here, but Hazim had been clear he’d wanted her to witness Nassir’s wedding so it couldn’t have happened yet. Which meant today must be the big day.

A key grated in the lock on the door and her muscles tensed. Since her abduction, Hazim had been less than nice each time he’d come into the room, and he’d also given her more of that foul smelling drug to keep her quiet. No food, just a bit of water after she’d tossed her cookies the day before. Whatever the drug was he used on her, it made her nauseous as hell.

Hazim walked into the room and closed the door behind him, his smile icy. If Janna didn’t know better, she’d think he was going to kill her. Except he wouldn’t do that. Not yet. Not until she’d watched the man she loved walk down the aisle and wed another woman. After that, all bets were off. “Ah, so you’re awake. Good. That will be helpful.”

He strode over to the mattress and stared down at her, his expression bland. “Wouldn’t want you to miss what would have been your wedding day.” He dragged a chair over to the window, then pulled a fresh roll of tape and several length of rope from his pockets.

“Why are you doing this?” She forced the words past her sandpaper throat, her voice hoarse from the drugs and dehydration.

“Because I will do whatever is necessary to get what I deserve.” Hazim walked back over to her and shoved a rag into her mouth then secured it in place with a new piece of duct tape.

Janna tried to scream, but that only made it harder to breath as he hauled her up by her aching arms and dragged her to the chair. Once he’d shoved her down into the seat, he tied her ankles to the chair legs and secured her wrists restraints with another piece of rope to the back of the chair.

Her shoulders felt like they’d pop out of joint from the stress, but resistance would get her nowhere at this point. She took a deep breath through her nose and forced her stiff body to relax as much as possible, knowing she’d need all her energy to figure out a way to escape.

Hazim patted her on the head like a little kid then opened the curtains, giving her a front row seat to the gardens below, dotted with brightly colored tents, a plethora of flowers and ice sculptures. Unwanted tears welled in her eyes despite her vow never to cry in front of his man. This should have been the happiest day of her life. Now, thanks to Hazim, it would be the worst.

“Well, then,” Hazim said, his voice dripping with false affection. “I’ll just leave you here to enjoy the festivities.”

He left and she lost it. Sobbing for she had no idea how long. She thought about her family back home and how much she missed them. Thought of Nassir and how much she’d grown to care for him in the short time she’d known him. The time they’d shared together. The love they’d lost. By the time her tears were spent, the sun had risen high in the sky. Lack of food and water, combined with the terror of the last thirty-six hours had made her light headed and woozy. She had a hard time discerning reality from fantasy.

Perhaps that’s why when the door burst open and Nassir’s brother, Adilan, ran into the room, she wasn’t sure if he was there or just a figment of her imagination.

“Janna?” He said, running up to her and assessing her condition, then crouching to loosen the ropes binding her. “Hang on, I’ll have you free in a moment.”

He loosened the ropes around her wrists and her feet, then with a cringe, tore the duct tape from her mouth to remove her gag. Her already raw skin protested the abuse and she cried out from a mix relief and agony. Moving her arms was sheer torture and she felt bruised all over, but never more glad to see anyone in her life.

“Are you all right?” Adilan asked, his tone concerned.

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Good.” He called out in his native language to the hall beyond the door and soon a servant arrived with a bottle of water. Adilan cracked the lid open then held it to her lips while she drank. “Do you know who did this to you?”

She nodded again, still gulping the water.

“Who?” Adilan pulled the bottle away. “Tell me.”

“Hazim,” she croaked out.

Adilan cursed and straightened, walking back out into the hall to give more instructions to the servant, then returning to her side. He chaffed her abraded wrists and ankles with his hands, warming her chilled skin.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Nassir and I re-read your note. There was no pink pen, no little hearts. It was apparent you had not written it. After that, Hafa and the other servants helped us determine where you might be held.”

Janna snorted. “And you made fun of my pink leather planner that first day. Never thought it would save my life did you?”

“This is true.” He grinned up at her. “Sister.”

The sound of festive music filtered up from the garden and Janna and Adilan both rushed to the window. Nehla stood with Hazim at the end of a long red runner. Nassir waited at the other end, standing stoically next to the man who would perform their ceremony.

“He’s still getting married?” Janna looked over at Adilan.

“Not if we can help it. Not to Nehla anyway.” Adilan took her arm. “Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Adilan escorted her from the room and down the hall. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready, then down to the gardens before the vows are read.”

“But, I’m filthy and Nehla’s already walking down the aisle and…”

“You planned this wedding.” Adilan kept hold of her arm as they descended the stairs and headed back into east wing where her suite was located. “There are many things yet to happen before the big moment. Come, Hafa will be waiting to help you dress.”

Hafa met them outside the door to Janna’s room and gave her a big hug before taking over for Adilan.

“She needs to be dressed in her wedding attire and downstairs in ten minutes,” Adilan said to Hafa before releasing Janna with a wink. “Now hurry, if Nassir exchanges vows with Nehla all will be lost.”

Janna took the quickest shower of her life, then emerged to a flurry of maids, each with their own task. One curled and set her hair, another did her make-up, a third helped her slip into her dress. Even Hafa’s cousin was there to paint Janna’s hands and feet. The henna helped cover the bruises and welts on her wrists and ankles and Janna was forever grateful for the all of the women’s help.

Once she was primped to within an inch of her life, Hafa stepped back and finally allowed her to see her reflection in the full-length mirror. “What do you think?”

“Wow!” She looked at herself with wide eyes, amazed at the transformation in such a short time. She felt like a Disney princess in the gown she’d picked with the faint green threads especially woven through the ivory by the seamstress who’d explained it was their traditional color of holiness and fertility. Both things to be sought after during marriage. She turned to Hafa, “Thank you.”

“We need to go,” Adilan said, peeking his head inside the room once more. He gave Janna an appreciative once-over and smiled. “My brother is a very lucky man. Let us go remind him of that.”

Janna picked up her skirts and rushed down the stairs beside Adilan. “Where are they in the ceremony?”

“The soloist is playing a traditional wedding interlude.”

Janna calculated the time in her head. “We need to hurry.”

“Come.” Adilan took her hand and broke into a jog.

Janna laughed beside him. “I never imagined crashing my own wedding would be so enjoyable.”

Nassir stood before the governmental official who would marry him this day, trying not to think about the woman who should have been part of it. Janna.

She’d planned everything perfectly, down to the last detail. and the guests seemed overwhelmed with the gardens’ transformations.

Beautiful as the surrounding landscape was though, he couldn’t appreciate it. Not with Hazim and Nehla approaching. The white kaftan she wore with its elaborate silver beading and her extravagant jewellery only served to proclaim to him how superficial she truly was. So unlike Janna’s beautiful gown of modest ivory and green.

Nehla didn’t smile, her head held high with an air of misplaced confidence.

The soloist to his right began a traditional song used during marriages in Al-Sarid and a group of local dancers emerged from behind one of the tents to perform for the guests. Even in this small detail, Janna had gone the extra mile for him, ensuring the ceremony was a perfect blend of both his culture and hers. His heart ached with longing for her, Janna, not the woman walking down the aisle. Adilan had been right. He should not have gone through with this farce. It was wrong. All wrong.

Nimr sat in the second row back with his wife, several of the other board members and their families nearby. They’d all shown up to witness the taming of their wayward CEO. Today, they would be disappointed.

He stepped away from the front of the aisle and walked over to where the music was playing. “Stop, please.”

“Excuse me?” the soloist said.

“The music. Stop playing.” He waited until the man stopped then took the microphone from the stand before him. “I would like to thank you all for coming, but the woman coming down the aisle is not the woman whose name appeared on the wedding invitations.” He gestured toward the aisle. “This woman Nehla agreed to marry me today to save my position with Adjalane Oil.” He glanced at the board members before continuing. “But she is not my chosen fiancée. Therefore, I will not marry her today or any day because she is not the woman that I love. The woman that I love is an American named Janna Davis.”

A low murmur rippled through the assembled guests and Hazim protested in earnest. “You can not go back on your word, nephew. Not now, in front of the board and all of these people.”

“Sheikh Nassir!”

The new voice drew Nassir’s attention from Hazim to the back of the garden’s near the veranda. The voice sounded familiar, but…

No. He must’ve imagined it. Nassir refocused on Hazim, who now practically vibrated with fury before him.

“Sheikh Nassir!” This time when Nassir raised his head, time seemed to slow. For at the end of the aisle stood the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Janna!” He turned away from Hazim and started down the aisle.

“But that’s not possible,” Hazim yelled from behind him.

Possible or not, Nassir refused to let the woman he loved out of his sight again. Once he reached her, he scanned her appearance from the tips of her satin pumps to her beautiful face.

Janna looked at him, tears sparkling in her gorgeous azure eyes, her lovely smile radiant. “You love me?

Nassir could only nod as he opened his arms to her. She was here, and he would get to the bottom of her disappearance, but first, he needed to hold her. Just for a moment.

Janna stepped into Nassir’s embrace and relished the feel of his strong arms around her once more. A few hours ago, she’d doubted she’d ever feel them again. Janna pushed away and grinned. “By the way, I love you too.”

Adilan stepped in beside them and whispered, “I will handle Hazim and Nehla. Know that I have already ensured your revenge.”

“Tell me what happened.” Nassir held her close, one hand stroking up and down her back in a hypnotic, lulling rhythm.

She sighed, not wanting to relive the past few days, but knowing Nassir needed to hear the truth. “Hazim kidnapped me. He locked me up in the north wing of the palace.”

“What?” Nassir’s muscled form tensed against her and he swivelled to glare at his uncle, who was now being led away along with Nehla by Adilan and the four Sharqi Sheiks—Amare, Taleb, Karim and Mahil.

From what she could see peering around Nassir, Hazim still attempted to persuade his brother Nimr of his innocence, and Nehla did her best to slip away, but the five men surrounded the pair and quickly escorted them from the gardens. Janna felt nothing but relief at their departure.

Once the group was gone, Nassir turned back to Janna, his expression expectant. “We have a garden full of guests waiting for a wedding today.”

Janna revelled in the emotion glowing in his ebony gaze, and sank back into his arms once more. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him now, his heat, his kindness, his love. Still, she teased him a bit longer. “Hazim said you were only interested in getting married to save your position with the company. That you were only pretending with me.”

“And you believe him?” Nassir frowned.

“You
were
going to marry Nehla.” She raised a brow at him.

“Only because I thought had no choice. Then I realized without you in my life, marriage was meaningless. Everything was meaningless. Even my job. The only thing that mattered was finding you and convincing you of my love.”

“You really weren’t going to marry her?” She gave him a coy little smile.

“No.” He chuckled and tucked her tighter against him. “She wasn’t you, you are the only woman I want. Period. Even if you do drive me insane sometimes with your stubborn American ways.” Nassir took a deep breath and turned serious again. “Janna, I realize staying in Al-Sarid means you’ll give up many things. Your independence. Your family. I want you to stay with me more than life itself, but I want you to do it with your eyes open and of your own free will. Will you stay with me,
kalby
?”

Janna was about to wrap her arms around his neck and tell him yes, when he shocked her yet again. In front of everyone, Nassir took a step back then knelt before her. “Janna Davis, you are the light to my darkness. The love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my days learning to laugh again. With you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Love and joy welled within her, taking away every doubt and fear. She gazed into his eyes and whispered, “Yes. And it seems today might be a good time.”

Nassir stood, wrapping his arms around her once more and laughing. “Yes,
kalby
. I believe now would be perfect.” He kissed her quick then leaned back. “Where is Adilan?”

“Right here,” his brother said, jogging up beside them.

“Would you be so kind as to walk my bride down the aisle?” Nassir kissed the back of Janna’s hand then passed it to Adilan.

“It would be my honor.” Adilan placed Janna’s hand on his forearm. “Hazim and Nehla have been turned over to the authorities. They will be held until a judge can decide their fate, but my guess is that will not happen for several days, what with the celebration.”

“Celebration?” Janna looked between the two men. Maybe there was some Al-Sarid holiday she didn’t know about?

“Wedding celebrations go on for several days here,” Adilan said, then frowned. “Why do you look so upset, Janna?”

Her heart sank. Just when she’d thought she’d handled every detail to perfection. “If that’s the case then I’ve made a terrible mistake. I only asked the caterers to do food for this afternoon.”

Nassir laughed. “Trust me. One word from me, or my bride, and they will happily prepare food until every last guest has left.” He tapped her on the nose. “It makes me happy that you are not perfect,
kalby
. It means that I may still stand a chance with you.”

“Believe me, I’m far from perfect. And you always stood a chance with me.” Janna winked, taking Adilan’s arm again. “Now come on. Let’s get married.”

Nassir nodded and resumed his place at the front of the guests, taking the microphone away from the irritated soloist once more. “Thanks to my brother’s quick thinking, my original fiancé has been returned and still wishes to marry me. I intend to make that wish come true. Please enjoy the rest of the celebration.”

“Ready?” Adilan asked, patting her hand.

“Yes.” She walked down the aisle with Adilan, her legs shaky from adrenaline. She kept her gaze locked on Nassir, drawing strength from the love in his eyes. As they neared the front, a familiar sound to her left drew her attention. She turned and gasped. “Mom?” She dropped Adilan’s arm and hurried to greet her family. “What are you all doing here? I thought you weren’t coming?”

“Jack convinced us that after all you’ve done for us, we needed to be here to show you our support,” her brother said. “I wanted to help Adilan find you, but he said it was important to keep up the pretence for Hazim as long as possible. Thank God he found you when he did.”

Janna hugged her mom once more then walked the last few feet to stand in front of Nassir. “Did you know they were coming?”

“Not until Jack arrived with them this morning. Are you happy?”

“Never been happier.”

The official performing their ceremony began again, reciting the traditional American wedding vows first in Arabic then in English. As Nassir slipped a ring onto her finger, she heard his slight gasp when his fingertips brushed against the raw skin of her wrist. He turned it over slightly and his gaze narrowed on the reddened skin rising above the henna tattoos. “I will make him pay for every bruise, every hurt he’s caused you,
kalby
”

“Please, Nassir.” Janna’s heart swelled at the protective growl in his voice, but she wanted to leave the past in the past and start anew, with him. “Let it go. For me. Please?”

He stared at her for a moment, his jaw tense. Finally, he exhaled and lowered his head. “If that is what you wish,
kalby.
From this day forward I live for your happiness.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He raised his head and looked to the official. “May I kiss her yet?”

The official gave Nassir a prim look, but relented. “Yes, Sheikh.”

Nassir kissed Janna deeply and she clung to him, craving more. So much more. They only parted when the crowd began snickering.

He pulled back slightly and moved his lips to her ear. “Welcome home,
habibiti”

“I love you. How do I say that in your language?”

Nassir whispered the word against the sensitive skin of her neck and Janna practiced several times in her head before giving it a go. “
Uhibbok.
”

“Close.” Nassir chuckled. “Although I think you may have called me a cactus instead.”

“Funny.” She smacked him on the arm. “Now what?”

“I love you, Janna.” He squeezed her tight once more then took her hand. “Now we cut that cake you insisted we have, then we dance.”

“I’m glad you remember my schedule so well. I’ve directed hundreds of these thing, but today I seem to have forgotten everything except you.”

“As it should be.” Nassir escorted her to the table of cakes set up inside the larger of the tents. Together, they held the knife and cut a piece of cake while a photographer captured each moment on film.

Then they fed each other, Nassir wickedly sucking the sugar off her fingers a moment longer than necessary, and desire pooled hot and sweet in her core. Janna suddenly couldn’t wait for this reception to be over so she could get him alone.

Unfortunately, they had more wedding-related tasks to perform before the evening was through. Next came the traditional toasts, but done the Arab way, with the happy couple sitting at the front table while the guests paraded by offering them well wishes and gifts. Many of the Arab guests brought along an offering of five almonds—symbols of health, happiness, prosperity, children, and a long journey together.

Janna couldn’t argue with any of those sentiments.

Near the end of the line came the Sharqi brothers. All took turns shaking Nassir’s hand then congratulating her upon their marriage.

“I told you she was perfect for you,” Taleb teased, kissing the back of Janna’s hand.

Amare and Bree were next, wishing her and Nassir the same happiness they’d found together.

Finally, her own siblings hovered near her mother’s wheelchair. “Mom, thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m so happy for you. Janna. You sacrificed so much…you deserve all this and so much more.”

Nassir wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they gazed out over the crowd of happy partiers and she was reminded of their first meeting. He’d been irritated with Amare for sweeping his bride up into his arms in such a public display of affection. Now he was guilty of the same crime.

“Come.” Nassir stood and extended his hand to her. “Let us get our dance finished.”

Janna nearly laughed at the put-upon expression on his face. She knew he’d only agreed to the waltz for her, and she appreciated him wanting to please her. As he twirled her expertly around the floor, she marvelled again at his grace and agility. Despite his disparaging comment to the contrary, he’d taken to the waltz like a fish to water, and they all but floated around the floor. When the dance was finished, the guests clapped and Nassir kissed her again.

“Are we done now?”

She thought through her carefully planned schedule again, as much as she remembered anyway. “I think so.”

“Good.” He swept her up into his arms.

“Nassir!”

“Shush, wife. I wish to love you without an audience. Perhaps this is what drove Amare to do such a thing as well.”

“Perhaps.” Janna grinned. “I’m happy right where I am.”

“And where is that?” Nassir strode toward the palace, seemingly oblivious to the knowing glances of their guests.

“In your arms. Where I plan to remain for the rest of my life.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Nassir bent and kissed her once more. “That is one request I can easily fulfil.”

THE END of

The Sheikh’s Secret Bride

Book one of the Adjalane Sheikhs Series.

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