The Sheikh's Secret Bride (The Adjalane Sheikhs 1)

He looked each man sitting at the table in the eyes, seeing not even a hint of doubt in their eyes. They wanted him to marry? Fine. He squared his shoulders and stood. “I’ll see you back here in a month, gentleman. With my American bride.”

Chapter 1

Wedding of Amare Sharqi and Bree, San Francisco, California, Two days later…

Janna Davis watched Amare sweep his new bride into his arms and stride from the banquet hall then snorted. “Well, that’s not something you see every day.”

Her feet hurt and she longed for a hot bath and a long night’s sleep. Putting this lightning-fast wedding together had taken every bit of her expertise and her energy. Now that it had gone off without a hitch, the adrenaline high she’d drawn on to keep her going had vanished.

Two men stood at her side, giving her not-so-subtle glances. One of them she’d met earlier, Karim Sharqi, the groom’s brother. His clipped responses to her friendly attempts at small talk had bordered on rude and he’d been no help at all as she hustled around the banquet hall, accounting for every detail.

The other had been a last-minute addition to the guest list. Nassir Adjalane, notorious for causing difficulties for the Sharqi family business, and—if the rumors were to be believed—the Hatfield to their McCo

y. Frankly, she’d been shocked the guy had the balls to show up here. Mortal enemies didn’t normally celebrate each other’s weddings.

Tired of being gawked at like some prize-winning pony, Janna turned and gave both men a thorough once-over. Dressed in the traditional robes of their country, they were most definitely Middle Eastern. And if their blatant stares were any indication, it seemed their manners were as backward as their views toward equality.

“He’s acting like a fool,” Nassir said, giving the departing bride and groom a disparaging look.

Regardless of how she felt about the happy couple’s sappy romance, she wasn’t about to let this pompous ass rain all over their parade. She crossed her arms and faced him. “He’s acting like a man in love, though I’m not surprised you don’t recognize it.”

“How dare you insult us.” Karim scowled. “In our country, men do not show their emotions so publicly. We save our affections for the privacy of the bedroom.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I don’t live in your country then. Sounds boring if you ask me.” Janna walked away, the taffeta skirt of her dress swishing as she headed across the room toward her cousin, Jack, and the groom’s other brother, Taleb.

She’d needed to get away from idiots before her big mouth got her in even more trouble.

“It was a beautiful ceremony, Janna,” Jack said once she’d stepped in beside him.

“Thanks. Although, he doesn’t seem to be of quite the same opinion.”

“Who?” Jack looked to where she indicated, then chuckled. “Oh. You mean Nassir. Well, they don’t call him the Heartless Sheik for nothing.”

“He wasn’t thrilled Amare carried Bree from the room.”

Taleb chuckled, “Do not worry. Nassir is a strict traditionalist. I’ve told him repeatedly he needs to join the twenty first century, but still he prefers to stay in the Dark Ages where women wore veils and did not work outside the home.”

“The not working part is bad enough, but wearing a veil all the time? No way.” The whole thing sounded barbaric and outdated. Janna marveled at the fact there hadn’t been a feminist uprising in Al-Sarid a long time ago.

“It is not as bad as you think,” Taleb said, his expression cautious. “There are reasons for what we do.”

“Really?” Jenna did her best to keep her sarcasm to a minimum and failed. “Do enlighten me.”

“Our women chose to wear their veils as a show of modesty and reverence to God. And our men provide for their every need to show how deeply we care. Many Westerners consider our strict rules and practices abusive, when the opposite is true. I believe if you spoke to the women of Al-Sarid you would hear a much different story.”

Janna shrugged, not wanting to insult his culture, no matter how different it was from hers. “I guess I like my independence too much to ever consider something like that. Besides, I’ve never been much of a follow-the-rules kind of gal.” She smiled at Jack then Taleb. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I better make sure the caterers have everything they need. Talk to you later?”

“Yep.” Jack pointed toward the entrance. “By the way, I made sure to tell the tabloid photographers I spotted earlier that this was all your doing. Who knows? Maybe someone will read about this event and offer you your dream job.”

“Maybe.” Janna didn’t have time to think about the future. Not when payment for this job hadn’t cleared her bank account yet and next month’s bills were stacking up.

She left Jack and Taleb behind and headed toward the side door where the caterers were busily moving between the kitchens and the hallways, working to keep up with the demand for food and drink from the guests. “Everything going okay out here?”

“Everything’s fine, Miss Janna.”

She smiled at the young man in charge, “If you need anything, you call my cell.”

“Will do,” he said.