***
The wedding was set for three months from now. It was going to be at the Atlantis Palm in Dubai. The actual ceremony was to be on The Beach, at the venue they simply called, Private Beach. The Reception was to be in the Atlantis Ballroom and Royal Terrace. The reception was going to be quite a shindig, and there were well over a thousand people invited. Anna was to be my bridesmaid, and Omar was to be Amir’s best man. The entire Atlantis resort was an engineering feat and consisted of all manmade islands set in the shape of a giant palm tree. It took years of construction and re-construction as they learned how to create land masses and contrived islands in the Arabian Ocean simply from transplanting large quantities of the desert.
Amir had shown me pictures, but I’d as of yet to see any of it in person. I did attend Anna and Omar’s wedding—actually where Amir and I first met—and I had been blown away by the opulence of Omar’s private retreat. It was also manmade islands, but on a much smaller scale than the whole Atlantis conglomeration.
If I let myself think too long on the whole thing, I got stressed. Amir assured me I needn’t worry about a thing—his people had it all under control. He also said that if I wanted to participate in any of the planning, I was welcome to take over. He just wanted me happy. That right there was one of the many reasons I loved him so much. He was considerate to my feelings over and above the expected. I didn’t know any men half as cognizant of their wives’ feelings as Amir was to mine.
I did say I’d like some American representation present in the menu and the decorations, but we had yet to figure that part out. I’d called my mom in Kansas to invite her and the entire family she’d created with the stepdad I hardly knew. They had four kids now, all pretty young, and I really didn’t know any of them. I hardly knew my mother, since she moved away when I was just nineteen and I was entering college and already living with Anna in our apartment.
So, when my mom hemmed and hawed through excuses why they didn’t want to take such a long trip—even though I told her Amir would pay for all of it—I wasn’t surprised when she declined entirely. I didn’t let my disappointment show that she didn’t even want to meet her grandson. But, at least Melinda and Richard Potts would be there, and I did consider them more my family than my biological was—at least, in my heart that’s how I felt.
As the time drew closer to the official ceremony and my unveiling into royalty, I grew a bit more excited every day. And, the diamond encrusted, strapless dress was going to look freaking fabulous on me!
Chapter Three
I went to the doctor and had an operation that would help keep my cervix closed, so I could hopefully carry to full term for the next pregnancy. It was an outpatient kind of thing, and not really a big deal. Although, we were told to not have sex for at least two weeks as there was an incision deep inside that needed to heal before penetration. The waiting was the worst part, but we both agreed we could endure.
The days melted together, and before I knew it our two weeks had passed. I was totally settled into our life in the desert. Amir often drove us into town for a meal out, or we would take the jeep out to his oasis for a late evening swim. Amsi loved the water, and as a threesome we became nearly inseparable. Amir was as involved in Amsi’s care and development as I was, which I found sexy as hell.
“You are such a good daddy,” I said to my husband.
He waggled his eyebrows and pushed in closer to me, Amsi floating in the crook of his elbow and giggling as he splashed the water with balled fat baby fists. Amir whispered in my ear, “I want to make more babies with you, beautiful.” He nipped at my earlobe and grabbed my butt under the water, “And perhaps you should call me daddy more often?” He dragged my hand through the water to where he was hard and tenting the swim shorts.
My eyes went wide, “Amir! Not in front of the baby.”
“As if he will remember anything. He isn’t even a year old,” he countered.
“Here, in the water?” He shrugged and gave me that half smile of his that slew me every time. “Um, okay,” I said with trepidation. I was still trying to figure out how we could manage a—in-water love session—and keep Amsi from going under. Then his first words bounced around in my head, and I pushed him away.
“No—I mean—no more babies for a while. I’m just barely over what happened with Amsi.”
He leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the lips, lingering and rubbing his nose against mine. “Of course, darling. I meant far off in the future.” He slated his mouth against mine and hungrily took my acquiescent moan. He spoke against my lips, “I do enjoy you calling me daddy.” His hand gripped my butt again, and he rubbed his hot length against my stomach.
My eyes rolled and I pushed into him, “Is that so—daddy?” I dragged out the word and said it in a little girl, but still seductive tone. I realized we were on thin ice at this point, but I think we both knew what the other meant. After all, I did call him master and alpha on a pretty regular basis. The moniker daddy was also something exclusive to an American dialect, so I think he found it more a novelty than anything else. I didn’t know the Arabic word for dad, but I did for father, which also often meant, sire or protector. I said it now, seductively, and Amir hungrily responded by pinning his now fully erect length between our bodies.
“I need you now. This instant,” he said in a guttural, smoky voice. “I love it when you speak my tongue, and I’ve shown incredible fortitude these past weeks.”
I slid my tongue into his mouth and tangled it against his, mumbling, “My tongue loves all of you, and the waiting is over—you can have me now whenever you wish.”
Amsi stuck his wet fist in his mouth and then started crying. I guess we weren’t giving him enough attention. Amir refocused on his son, and I sunk down under the cool water. Amir shrugged and headed to the shore. “I will take you when we are home.”
“Okay daddy,” I said in as flirting of a tone as I could. Amir gave me a sly wink and waded to the beach with Amsi.
***
Amir and I had discussed my desire to be of some use to him in the running of his country. I didn’t want to let all of my Harvard years to go to waste. So, we decided I would enroll in the university and take courses on the law code for the United Arab Emirates. Eventually, I hoped to play into every aspect of Amir’s life. I wanted to be a proactive queen and not just a barefoot and pregnant broodmare to a sheikh.
We had a few heated words over my desire to leave and attend classes. Mostly, I think it was Amir’s protective need to know where I was at all times. Not so much him wishing to keep me down and under his thumb. He was genuine whenever he discussed matters of state or even foreign affairs. I would offer my opinions, and he always considered them—never summarily dismissing me the way I fear most Arab men might have.
I think in his ideal world, he would have kept me at home, and if not pregnant with multiple progeny, then at the very least barefoot and unseen by any other men—ever! He was quite possessive of me, but I liked it—at least, I did now that I was addicted to his attentions. I’d insisted that I had to be of use, and I was still unwilling to be just a mommy—I needed a job and a purpose and I wanted to use my education. So, he relented and nodded as he thought about it.
“You will have to agree to at least one guard with you at all times.” I wrinkled my mouth and gave my version of the do I have to? expression. “Yes, I will insist on this one thing. I could not stand it if you were targeted as a possible source of income for a pirate.”
“Pirate? In the desert?” I whined.
He was entirely serious. “Yes, indeed. It will be known you belong to me—that you are a queen to my people—mother to my son. You could bring a handsome ransom to a kidnapper.”
The thought hadn’t actually occurred to me, and I sat there thinking on it. Then it hit me what an easy target a child—especially a firstborn boy child—could be. My eyes shot to Amir. “That never crossed my mind! And Amsi, too?”