The Sheikh's Bartered Bride

"Eventually you will have to take me back to Seattle."

"Yes."

She would have said more, but a shout from behind them silenced her. Hakim raised his hand and called out in Arabic.

"Come, let us go meet my grandfather."

She turned away from him and using the scarf that matched her outfit, she fashioned it like a belt around her waist, pulling one edge of the sweater over the other increasing the modesty of the outfit significantly. "All right."

He surprised her by taking her hand and began leading her toward the largest tent and the delegation that had gathered to meet them. Torches cast light on those assembled. Standing in the center was a man almost as tall as Hakim. The wrinkled leather of his skin and red checked covering on his head worn by sheikhs indicated he could be no other than Hakim's grandfather.

He stepped forward to greet them. "You are welcome among my people." He had spoken in English, clearly for her benefit and she was impressed by the courtesy coming from a man so obviously used to authority.

Hakim stopped a few feet from the other man, released Catherine and then stepped forward to embrace his grandfather. "Father of my mother, I am grateful for your welcome."

He came back to her side, taking her hand in a firm hold once again. "Grandfather, this is my wife, Catherine."

The old man's eyes narrowed. "Your bride, you mean."

Catherine looked to Hakim for an explanation, but he wasn't looking at her. His attention was fixed on his grandfather. A quick dialogue in Arabic commenced. Hakim sounded angry. His grandfather sounded adamant.

It ended with Hakim releasing her hand.

A beautiful woman stepped from behind the man to the old sheikh's right. She wore the traditional dress of a Bedouin woman, the garment black, but embroidered with red, her head and neck covered completely by a black georgette scat-f.

She smiled at Catherine. "I am Latifah, wife of Ahmed bin Yusef, sister to Hakim. You are to come with me."

Again Catherine looked at Hakim for understanding.

This time, he was looking at her, his expression grim. "My grandfather does not recognize our marriage because he did not witness it. It has been decreed that you will sleep in my sister's tent tonight. You are no doubt pleased by this turn of events." He inclined his head in acknowledgment of that reality.

"You must go with my sister." His hand reached out as if to touch her, but then dropped back to his side.

"Grandfather has decreed that since I am not yet your husband in the eyes of him and his people, to touch you would dishonor you among them."

The words disconcerted her, but it seemed she had an unwitting ally in the old sheikh.

Still smiling, Latifah touched Catherine's arm. "Come. We have much to do, much to talk about."

CHAPTER TEN

By late afternoon the following day, Catherine thought much to do an understatement of monumental proportions.

Evidently a Bedouin wedding was every bit of a production as the one they had already gone through. She wondered when she would see Hakim. She had been cloistered in his sister's tent since her arrival and when Catherine had asked, Latifah had smilingly shrugged. Whenever their grandfather allowed him to visit appeared to be the answer.

She wondered if he arrogantly assumed she was going- through with the ceremony, or if he was worried she would follow through on her refusal.

She didn't know her own mind right then. Too much had happened, her emotional wounds too fresh for her to do anything more than try to make it through the day without bursting into tears. Luckily Latifah made it easier, assuming agreement from silence and happiness where there was none.

Throughout the day and while they made preparations for a wedding Catherine was not reconciled to, Latifah talked. She was extremely kind and extremely friendly. She'd -told Catherine about growing up in Kadar until she was eight. She had also told Catherine why Hakim had gone to live with King Asad and Latifah had gone to live with her grandfather. Catherine shivered at the memory of what Latifah had told her.

The attempted coup twenty years ago had left their parents dead. She and Hakim had almost died, too, but the ten-year-old boy had managed to spirit his sister out Of the palace under attack and had tracked his grandfather's tribe in the desert. When they had found the Bedouins, both children had been suffering from dehydration and hunger, but they had been alive.

Catherine thought about a small boy who had lost his parents and taken the responsibility of his younger sister's safety. Her heart ached for him. Because from what Latifah said, Hakim had not only lost his parents, but latter arrangements had effectively severed him from his remaining closest relative.

Latifah had been raised Bedouin and Hakim had been raised to be the Sheikh of Kadar, trusted adopted son to King Asad.