The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 3 (Jatar Sheikh 3)

It was only a day before the rehearsal dinner and Omar’s family was arriving. I felt alive at a level I’d never comprehended as possible. I felt as if I was glowing from all the attention, and I had a new joy in being alive. I guess there is nothing like a near death experience to open one’s eyes to the wonderfulness of life.

His mother was a sweet woman who said very little. She did however seem to be watching me whenever we were in the same room. His father was another charismatic man, but I didn’t find him as compelling as Omar, although I sensed many similarities between the two men. I found Omar to be a more commanding presence, more self-assured perhaps.

His younger brothers were in their mid-twenties and both were as attractive as Omar, although again, both seemed immature in comparison. Zahir and Yasser were only a year apart in ages, and I found them both incredibly fun to look at. They were closer to my age than Omar was, but they were not nearly as mature or worldly as Omar.

His sister was the most regal woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. She seemed like a queen of old, perfectly capable of ruling an entire nation all by herself. Her name was Alath, which Omar later told me translated to, the lofty goddess, and I thought that seemed perfect for the woman I was afraid to approach. She put off the same domin

ant air as Omar did, and I wondered how she could ever let a man dominate her in the bedroom.

Alath was twenty nine, and even though Omar was slated to take over the crown when his father stepped down, I figured that Alath could have easily taken on that role.

I greeted them the best I could, but none were that interested in me. I hung back and simply followed the procession out to the far balcony on the side of the building we didn’t use as often. This area was built out and away from the structure and had a glass floor. It made me dizzy to be out there, but I joined them anyway and tried my hardest to not look down.

“Anna, here, next to me.” Omar commanded. I was relieved because he wanted me next to him on a couch with a small rug underneath it, so all I had to do was look at Omar and be near him.

The family was formal in their conversations and I was never addressed. All questions were targeted at Omar, who answered some truthfully, some not so much. Sometimes they talked in Arabic, sometimes in English. His brothers proceeded to get increasingly drunk and finally they left. His sister stayed and after the parents were finished with all the greetings and formalities of business, she addressed me directly.

It took a hard hand squeeze from Omar for me to realize I’d been asked a direct question. “Um, pardon me?”

Alath said in an irritated tone, “Anna, when will you learn our native tongue? Do you not feel that is necessary before you are to wed?”

I was kind of tongue tied, “Um, I do intend to learn it.”

“Good, I feel that is a mandatory part of your new position. Tell me, how did you feel after you found out that the infidels who’d taken you, were killed? Did that cloud your judgment of my brother?”

Without hesitation I glued my eyes to hers and stated, “I was glad. Satisfied that Omar was able to personally erase the ones that led that particular group. It made me love Omar even more.”

Her brows lifted in surprise and it was her that lowered her gaze first. Omar reassuringly held my hand just a tad tighter. “Alath, she is not like other Caucasians you have met. She is a warrior woman in her heart.”

Alath’s words held a hint of contempt, “It is not that she is a Caucasian, it is that she is an American. They are soft and misguided. Ignorant of what it means to live in constant unrest like the rest of the world.” She waved her elegant, well-manicured hand in the air. “They are also judgmental and condescending from their protected vantage point in the west.”

I felt a bit of ire creep up my spine and I was just about to open my mouth to defend my fellow countrymen, but Omar halted me with a too tight hand squeeze. I clamped my mouth shut, but I let my expression tell her I didn’t like her condescending tone.

Omar spoke up, “You’d best not speak of my future bride’s country in that way, Alath. She will soon be even your superior.”

Alath bristled in place. She was obviously upset with our joining and now it was finally showing. Omar’s father spoke up, “Alath, it is not your place to question Omar on his bride of choice.” Then he put his full attention back on Omar, “Son, I can see you are happy with Anna. Be patient with your sister. It will take us time to acclimate to this joining. You are fully aware we’d hoped you would marry within our race, and our class. No offense Anna,” he said with a quick no eye contact nod in my direction that seemed completely dismissive to me. “We had hoped Omar would pick a girl from another royal family. You must be aware that we had already chosen for him and he had a selection of six perfectly suited females.”

I darted my eyes between Omar and his father and then I noticed Alath’s tiny, snarky expression. Omar gave me a curt shake of his head, so I again bit my tongue.

“All of that is a moot point father. I am marrying Anna and she will be my queen. That subject is no longer a valid point of conversation and I would appreciate you refraining from upsetting my bride further.”

For the first time, Omar’s mother spoke, and she looked directly at me when she did. “Son, I am happy you have found love. It is rare and elusive and I am glad to see your happiness.”

I could tell she didn’t speak English as often as the others and her speech was thickly accented and hard to translate, but her expression was easy to read and I could tell she was sincere.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next morning we took the helicopter out to one of his private, man-made islands, and Yasmin took me to a private house near the ocean’s edge. She decorated me up one side and down the other. My hair was in perfect ringlets that danced around my face and the crimson silk dress set off my pale skin beautifully.

It was a strapless number and hit me to mid-thigh. It was beyond sexy and was dramatically cut and fitted so my bosom was lifted and fluttered with every breath. I was in the coral snake high heels Omar had purchased for me before the abduction. I’d been practicing and could now manage a decent enough, no limp—walk. It wasn’t a sexy, runway kind of walk, but oh well, at least I could do it and I knew that would make Omar happy. The shoes were the prettiest shoes I’d ever seen and the red stripe amidst the white and black of the snake’s natural pattern really set off the red in the dress.

I had on a ruby encrusted choker and stunning ruby and diamond earrings that dangled all the way to my jaw. On my fingers were the enormous diamond engagement ring, a ruby and gold ring that covered the entire first knuckle of my right ring finger, and the blue sapphire ring that had remained on my pinky finger of my right hand since I’d returned home from the hospital. I also had on a ruby and gold bracelet that was so heavy I continued to marvel at it and stroke my hand over it to feel the smooth warmth of all the gold and gems.

Yasmin had instructed me on decorum and that I was not to remove the veil or floor length gown that covered all of me. I was simply to present myself to Omar and kneel, and he would uncover me and ask me to rise at his side. Even though this was in practice, I was really nervous and most of all I hoped I didn’t fall. The ceremony was to be held on a stage out near the water with a long curving deck I would be forced to traverse on my own.

Omar had sent me ahead with Armand and Yasmin since even in their tradition the groom is not permitted to see the bride directly before the ceremony. I felt at loose ends being away from him. We’d spent the better part of the last six weeks never out of the others company, and now I felt as if part of me had been amputated. I was anxious to get this going so I could once again dwell near my love.

At dusk, with a stunning sunset at our backs, the procession filed out to the water’s edge. I was the last and was by myself. I was careful in my heels and my ankle twinged off and on unless I took a perfect step. So, I wobbled my way towards Omar who was dressed in a black tuxedo with a jacquard top coat. He looked magnificent with the sun setting behind him and my heart stalled at the site. Was this really happening? Was he mine? Was I really going to be a princess of a kingdom? Married to the most god-like man I’d ever met?