The Sultan's Choice

Sadiq was silent until they came to the return which led to the main grand staircase leading down to the formal reception area and banquet hall. He turned and looked at her and just said, ‘Ready?’

Samia was about to say, No, and I don’t think I ever will be, but stopped herself. This was it. Her heart was beating rapidly, and jerkily she nodded her head once. ‘Ready.’

Sadiq took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed the inner palm, scattering Samia’s brain to pieces. ‘Good girl.’

And then he was leading her by the hand around the corner.

Down below there was a veritable sea of people. Women like birds of paradise in stunning gowns and glittering jewels, and men dashing in dark tuxedoes and some in more traditional robes with elaborate headdresses. Sadiq tucked her arm into his and they walked down the stairs. Samia held on tight and tried to smile, even though she felt as if she was walking into a lion-infested den.

Two hours later Samia’s feet ached, her head ached and her face ached from smiling. She’d sat at Sadiq’s side at dinner, and now they were mingling with the guests, who were a mix of the crème de la crème

of Al-Omari society and visiting heads of state—like Sheikh Nadim and his wife from Merkazad.

The rest of the guests would be arriving for the wedding the following day, along with Samia’s brother and sisters.

She wished Kaden could be here, but he’d been held up in London.

For a moment Sadiq was pulled away from Samia’s side to speak with someone and she felt momentary panic. But just then Sadiq’s mother, Yasmeena, appeared and took Samia’s arm. Samia smiled. She liked the older woman.

‘You look stunning tonight, my dear.’

Samia fought against her natural response to put herself down and smiled graciously. ‘Thank you, Yasmeena. And you look lovely too.’

Yasmeena smiled. ‘You’re going to be so good for my son. I can feel it.’

Samia blushed. ‘I hope I don’t let him down.’ And as soon as she said the words she realised that she actually meant them. Somewhere along the way her loyalties had sided firmly with Sadiq, and she felt a responsibility to him now, and to his country.

Yasmeena squeezed her arm. ‘You won’t. Everyone is captivated by you, Samia, you’re a natural.’

Samia smiled weakly. ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ At that moment a movement caught Samia’s eye and she looked up to see Sadiq nearby, holding court. He stood head and shoulders above everyone else, so handsome. Something inside her clenched hard.

‘You like him, don’t you?’

Samia’s head snapped back to Yasmeena. She felt absurdly exposed. ‘Well … that is, of course I like him … but it is an arranged marriage. You know that.’

She felt very defensive all of a sudden. But Yasmeena hadn’t noticed. She seemed to have gone inwards to some private space, and the sadness in her amazing blue eyes was profound. She looked at Samia, smiling a little. ‘I’d always hoped for more for Sadiq. I didn’t want him to have the same kind of sterile marriage I had with his father. But he will be good to you. His father was … not a kind man. Sadiq is certainly not soft, but he’s compassionate—which is more than his father ever was. I’m afraid we’re not very close. His father guarded him jealously, and he went to boarding school so young.’

‘How old was he?’ Samia asked.

Yasmeena smiled sadly. ‘Just eight. His father sent him to school in England—told him it would toughen him up.’

Samia’s eyes were drawn back to Sadiq. He looked so composed, so sure of himself. He caught her eye and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face, making a ridiculous glow spread through her. But then his gaze fell to his mother and his smile faded. Samia shivered inwardly.

Sadiq’s mother patted Samia’s hand then, diverting her attention. ‘You’re a sensible girl. I wish I’d been so sensible at your age. I do want all the very best for you and my son.’ She stopped and then started again. ‘I just can’t help wishing that he wasn’t so cynical—’

‘Mother,’ came a clipped and cool voice, as a steel arm wrapped around Samia’s waist, making her breath hitch, ‘I need to steal my fiancée.’

Yasmeena smiled faintly, seemingly unmoved by her son’s cool behaviour towards her, and then Samia was being shepherded away. She wondered why Sadiq seemed to shut his mother out, but then she was being introduced to members of Sadiq’s government and she forgot about everything but surviving.

Much later Samia sent up a sigh of relief when Sadiq made excuses and led her from the room. He didn’t take her hand this time as he led the way, and she tried not to be bothered, or suspect that he’d laid on the charm before the function only so that she would look suitably besotted by him. She knew that no one there would expect this marriage to be anything but an arranged match, but clearly Sadiq had his pride and wouldn’t have wanted his betrothed scowling at his side.

Sadiq was waiting at the top of the stairs, and, not noticing, Samia cannoned straight into him, pitching backwards with a small cry because she had nowhere to steady herself. Quick as lightning Sadiq caught her and pulled her into his chest. Heart hammering with the sudden rush of adrenalin, Samia looked up. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’

Sadiq shook his head mock sternly. ‘First you take off on a stallion, and now you’re trying to throw yourself down the stairs … If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re still trying to get out of this marriage.’

Samia shook her head, mesmerised by the deep blue flecks in Sadiq’s eyes. His arms were wrapped around her so tight that she could feel the hard strength of his chest and belly. Her breasts seemed to swell against her snug bodice.

Samia went to move back, and winced when a strand of hair caught in one of the many pins pulled sharply.