The Sheikh's Accidental Heir (Sharjah Sheikhs 2) - Page 23

Ahmed stepped in and shut the door behind him. “You told Khalid he had to choose his own wife. Why are you so determined to dictate who I’m to marry?”

“Yes, I told your oldest brother to find his own bride, and you see the mess his American reporter made of that.”

“What I saw were not two, but four people, whose lives would have been ruined if you had not agreed to their union.” Ahmed leaned his palms on his father’s desk. “I only wish to now follow in my brother’s footsteps.”

His father let out a long breath. “I will not allow a repeat of that embarrassment. You will not bring dishonor to our family. You will marry Nasiji Yafassa.”

“I don’t love her. I am in love with my American.”

“You’re what?” The sultan stood. He was a towering man, and Ahmed suddenly felt as he had as a child.

His father strode out from behind the desk. “I will not allow this.”

“You mistake me, Father. I am not asking your blessing. I am doing you the courtesy of telling you my plans.” His heart was beating in heavy thuds. He was aware of Nasiji and how she needed time to get to Jamul’s yacht. If he did not delay his father, the sultan was all too able to send guards down to the docks and might well have Nasiji brought back here by force. Jamul, of course, would be jailed and might even face a death sentence for treason.

Ahmed could not allow that.

He began a long explanation of the circumstances of how he had met Melanie and fallen in love with her. As he spoke, he realized all of it was true. He wanted to marry her not just because she carried his child. He had fallen in love with her from the very first—with her bright eyes and her sweetness and her love of food and life. She was what he needed. If any woman could give him the life he needed, it was her. He had spoken more truly than he had known. They fit together.

His father’s face darkened. The man’s jaw tightened, and he started to shake his head. He sliced a hand though the air suddenly and shouted, “Guards!”

The security men stepped into the room.

Ahmed stiffened. “Father, I am not ten and to be sent to my room. You wanted me to grow up—well, I have. I know what I want.”

His father stepped closer. “You know nothing. You have been warned time and time again to behave in a manner appropriate to your position, but you have chosen to ignore my pleas to the point of causing considerable embarrassment to the family. You will stop this foolishness over another woman and marry Nasiji. She is from a worthy family and will give you strong sons. Do you understand me?”

Ahmed swallowed hard. “What I understand is that I will never have your respect, will I? That is all I have wanted. But no, you must treat me as a child. You tell me to grow up, but what you really mean is that you want me to do as you wish. Well, I won’t.”

The sultan gave a low growl, then turned to the security guards. “See that the American catering staff is put on the next flight back to New York. Find Nasiji and bring her to me now.” He faced Ahmed again. “If you do not do as I tell you, you will never see anything outside these palace walls again. You will never leave here. You will never have a life. I vow this. And Nasiji will be whipped and sent back to her father in disgrace.”

Ahmed allowed his shoulders to slump. It was time for plan B, since the first plan had gone so poorly. “Very well, Father. I will fetch Nasiji and marry her. But we will do so now. In the garden. With my brothers there to witness. And then I am leaving the country for a good, long time. For I do not wish to see a father who would think so little of his son’s happiness.”

The sultan shook his head. “I do think of it, Ahmed. That is the trouble. And I think if you do not marry, you will waste your life in nothing but empty pleasure. Go. Fetch your bride. If I can only have you married at once, then it will be at once.” The sultan turned to the guards. “You will still see those American caterers leave the country.”

Palms sweaty, Ahmed hurried from the room. He had to reach Melanie before security headed to her room. He prayed she would not be difficult with this, that she would not protest. He feared this might be the only future for them.

He found Melanie standing by her open window. He stopped in the doorway, aware of her as he had not been before—how her skin seemed to glow, how her eyes warmed when she looked at him. She was the woman he truly wanted to marry. And not just because she was the mother of his child.

Stepping into the room, he locked the door and strode to where Nasiji’s case sat on the bed. “Melanie, this will not be the wedding you may wish, but I ask you—no, I beg you—will you put on Nasiji’s burka and be her and marry me in her place?”

Melanie’s eyes welled with tears. “You want me to be in a fake wedding?”

“No.” He took out the burka and walked to her side. “I want this to be a very real wedding between us. Khalid’s wife came to him in circumstances that were almost too much for my father. She is an American, too, and now Father is adamant there will never be a repeat of such a thing. I will not bother you with Father’s threats, but I also will not be without you. And I will not leave our child without a father. If this is what it takes to marry you, I will do what we must.”

Melanie glanced down at the burka. “What happens if I say no? Bad things? Will Nasiji be dragged back here to marry you?”

He could not lie to her. Not about this. “My father is sultan—he rules this country. His will is law. But once we are married, you and I can leave his power. Will you help me? Will you marry me?”

She looked up from the burka. The corner of her mouth lifted. “It’s not the most romantic proposal, but I guess it’s for a good cause. But don’t think this means I’m becoming your property—and…well, what’s happening to my staff?”

“They are being sent back to New York. I will have us on a flight there as soon as the wedding is done.” He stared at her, his chest tight. She took the burka from him.

He had to help her into it and help her with the veil. All too soon, she was covered, so that only her green eyes—so much more vibrant and vivid than Nasiji’s—shone out from behind the back veils. He gave her a nod. It was less than honorable that he must start his life with her with this deception, but he was determined that no matter what happened, he was going to keep Melanie and their child with him. They were going to be the center of his world.

He led her out of the room. Her hand was shaking. He squeezed her fingers and told her the words she must say, making her repeat them over and over so she would know the Arabic.

Leaning close to her, he whispered, “Courage, habibti.”

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