With a gasp, everyone turned to stare at Kareef’s brother, the tycoon from Australia. The most shocked of them all appeared to be Rafiq himself. His blue eyes went wide as he looked down at the woman beside him. Jasmine saw Sera’s lovely face constrict in shock and pain.
But as all chaos broke around them, her view of Sera and Rafiq was blocked by Kareef’s strong, powerful body.
“Say it,” he ordered, looking down at her.
“I marry you,” she whispered in a voice almost too quiet to hear.
“Louder.”
“I marry you.”
He looked down at her, his eyes shining with love. “One more time.”
And this time, when she spoke, her shout was loud and pure and true. “I marry you!”
He pulled the emerald necklace from her neck and placed it around his throat. Cupping her face in his hands in front of half the world’s princes and ambassadors, he gently kissed away the tears now streaking her face.
“And I marry you,” he said, completing the ancient Qusani ritual of marriage. As some of the audience burst into applause, and the rest muttered their shock, Kareef took her hand. As she looked up into her husband’s handsome, brutal, beloved face, all the storm disappeared around them, blowing away like sand.
“Come, my love,” he whispered tenderly. “Let’s go home.”
Six months later, Jasmine brought her baby out of the house to sit in the morning sun. Cuddling Aziza in her lap in a comfortable, shaded chair, she took a drink of ice water from her own cool glass as she watched her husband train a new yearling in a nearby paddock outside the desert ranch house.
The sun was hot and bright in the blue sky, and around their snug, comfortable home, the horizon stretched out with endless freedom.
But the desert was more than just a horizon. It was more than just sand. If a person looked closer, they’d see so much more, Jasmine thought. Tiny pink flowers. Cactus trees. Hawks soaring through the sky and tiny rabbits darting beneath the rocks. What appeared to be barren was truly full of life and color and joy.
“Jasmine!” When Kareef saw them, he left the other trainers and came over to them. Climbing through the fence, he bent to kiss her, then took the happily gurgling baby in his arms. “Come to teach our daughter how to ride?”
Jasmine choked back a laugh. “She’s a bit young yet.”
The baby cooed, watching the unbroken horses run in a nearby field. She waved her pudgy arms excitedly. Kareef glanced from his daughter to his wife with a lifted eyebrow.
“All right, it’ll happen soon enough,” Jasmine said, smiling. “She has your recklessness.”
Kneeling before her, he wrapped his arms around them both and looked intently into Jasmine’s eyes. “She has your courage.”
As he held them both in the strong, protective circle of his arms, the sun was warm on Jasmine’s back. She leaned against him as they watched the wild horses running across the field. And Aziza laughed. It was a precious sound, one she never tired of hearing, like the ringing of joyful bells across the desert.
What a precious gift. What a precious life.
Jasmine had set out to give her youngest sister the chance for a fresh start, but Nima had done it for her instead. She’d never wavered on wanting to give her child up for adoption, insisting she was too young and immature to be a decent parent. The day after Jasmine’s marriage to Kareef, Nima had called her with a tearful, solemn request. “Take my baby, Jasmine. No one on earth would be a better mother.”
It had taken months before Jasmine had finally accepted that Nima wouldn’t change her mind. She hadn’t really believed it until the day she and Kareef had brought their newborn baby back home.
Nima now lived in New York City, where she attended prep school and next year would start university, with dreams of studying chemistry and biology. She’d visited Qusay several times since the adoption, but she’d made her position clear. “I’m her aunt,” Nima had said firmly, then glanced between Jasmine and Kareef with warmth and gratitude shining from her face. “Aziza knows who her real parents are.”
Jasmine’s parents and sisters already doted on the newest member of the Kouri family, and had visited their home in Qais multiple times. Even her father could not complain—how could he be anything but proud of the daughter who’d snagged a king, pulling him from his throne into a respectable marriage?
Or at least that was her father’s gruff excuse, but the truth was that even his iron pride hadn’t been able to resist their baby. No one could resist Aziza. Least of all Jasmine.
The happiness of getting everything she’d ever wanted—just when she’d thought all chance was lost—caused her heart to expand so wide in her chest she thought it might break with joy.