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