The Sultan's Choice

Immediately Sadiq tensed. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s just my head … my hair. It’s aching.’

‘Come here.’ Sadiq pulled her farther along the corridor and stood her against a wall. And then he started to pull the pins out from her hair, loosening it so that it fell down around her shoulders.

Samia groaned and closed her eyes as the tension was released. ‘That feels so good.’

Sadiq’s voice was guttural. ‘I’ve been wanting to do this all night.’

The last pins were out and Samia felt Sadiq’s hands move through the heavy strands to her skull, where he massaged back and forth. She felt like purring. A heavy langour invaded her bloodstream and unconsciously she swayed towards him. His hands left her head and came to cup her face.

She opened heavy eyes and looked up. Her heart soared when she saw his head descend. She was ready for his kiss, mouth parted, aching to taste him again, already winding her arms around his neck and stretching up. On some level she still couldn’t recognise this person she’d become, or the fact that this man appeared to find her attractive, but with each kiss it was sinking in more and more.

Sadiq gathered Samia into his arms as he drank in her sweetness. It had taken all of his restraint not to take her from that room much earlier. It had taken all of his restraint not to rip her away from perfectly banal conversations with the various men who seemed to have formed an orderly line to get to her all evening. For the first time in his life he’d been aware of only one woman in the room. This woman.

When he’d seen her talking with his mother he’d felt incredibly exposed. As he always did when his mother looked at him with those sad eyes.

As that realisation filtered through his consciousness Sadiq also realised that he was about to unzip Samia’s dress, and that they were in one of the main corridors of the castle. He felt disorientated. But alarm bells rang loud enough to slice through the haze of desire.

Samia sensed the cool breeze of his mood-change when Sadiq pulled back. He was looking at her with something almost accusatory on his face and she quickly composed herself, hiding away her own horror at the fact that they’d been kissing like teenagers behind a bike shed. Once again she had the awful feeling that she’d thrown herself at him.

Appearing utterly in control and calm, Sadiq stood back and said, as if nothing had happened, ‘I’ll escort you to your room.’

Samia shook her head and tried to protest, but he was already leading the way and Samia had to trail after him. She noticed all her hairpins spread out on the floor where where they’d been standing and went crimson. She stopped and Sadiq looked back and saw them too. A muscle jumped in his jaw when he saw Samia bend to pick them up.

‘Leave them.’

She looked up. ‘But—’

‘I said leave them. Someone will clear them up.’

Sadiq looked so fierce for a moment that Samia quailed inside, and she straightened again, following Sadiq’s tall, forbidding figure. A servant passed them and Sadiq issued a command. Samia’s face burned when she thought of the state of her hair and what the servant would think when he did his master’s bidding.

They reached her door and Sadiq opened it and stood back. Samia went through, childishly holding her breath as she passed Sadiq, so as not to breathe in that heady masculine scent. But it was no good, it was all around her.

‘Goodnight, Samia. You did well this evening.’

She looked up at him and only saw that shuttered expression he did so well. He was a different man from the one who had been kissing her into oblivion two minutes before. She had the sensation that she was seeing tantalising glimpses of another side to Sadiq just before he clammed up again.

She smiled ruefully. ‘It wasn’t as excruciatingly painful as I’d expected.’

‘See? I told you you’d have nothing to worry about.’

Nothing to worry about. Samia let herself be moved into yet another contortion to make it easier for the women to paint the henna tattoos on her hands and feet. It was the day before the wedding and she’d been washed, waxed and buffed from head to toe. She’d also spent an hour studying Al-Omari wedding etiquette, and Sadiq’s chief aide had sat down with her to go through the exact sequence of events over the next three days. It was mind-boggling and immensely complicated.

Tomorrow would be the civil ceremony, presided over by an official. Traditionally Samia should be kept apart from Sadiq during that ceremony, as they both declared their consent to marry, but he’d told her that they would do it together, and she appreciated that nod to a more modern custom. Afterwards there would be a huge celebratory banquet.

The day after that there would be a series of appearances and lesser banquets to welcome all their guests. And the third day would be the most westernised part of the proceedings, in which she would publicly marry Sadiq in a lavish gown watched by the world’s media. Followed by another sumptuous banquet and a ball.

Nothing to worry about. And yet Samia had to concede that her apprehension levels had diminished hugely since she’d weathered the function last night. She knew half of that was due in part to her preoccupation with the man she was marrying, and she shivered a little when she thought again of that kiss last night.

Hours later it was dark outside, and Sadiq was sitting at his study desk with paperwork piled high as he attempted to clear it in preparation for the wedding and honeymoon. It was impossible, though. His thoughts kept straying to one person.

> Sadiq had to concede that he could see how dynamic Samia might be as Queen. He’d seen her in action last night. After she’d let go of his arm with that death grip, she’d navigated the room with an innate ease which could only have come from her background and education. More than one person had come up to him and complimented him on his choice of bride, and he hadn’t been unaware of the surprise that he’d chosen someone so apparently modest and unassuming.

He’d watched how she’d put people at ease instantly with a light comment, and he’d prided himself on his initial instincts being correct. But, more than that, he’d felt proud. He’d also felt incredibly protective, knowing how nervous she was. But in the end she’d been quite content without him by her side, and that had left a dark emotion swirling in Sadiq’s gut—to think that she didn’t need him.

He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, knowing he wouldn’t get anything else done tonight. Samia had been preparing all day for the wedding, and his mind automatically visualised her naked body stepping from a steaming perfumed bath. Cursing volubly because he was thinking of her again, Sadiq stood up to leave the room—but his eye fell on a box on his desk. He picked it up and, telling himself that he knew exactly what he was doing, went towards Samia’s rooms.