Woman in a Sheikh's World

‘I haven’t.’ Avery’s teeth were chattering. ‘I haven’t seen any.’

‘You can borrow some of mine. OK, so there’s Peggy and Jim—they’re clocking up sixty years. True, neither of them has their own teeth left but that hasn’t been a barrier to lasting happiness. Then there’s David and Pamela—’ Jenny ticked them off on her fingers ‘—a happier couple you never did meet. And Rose and Michael—they just celebrated sixty years.’

Avery stared at her, confused. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’m listing all the people I know whose marriages have lasted more than sixty years so that you don’t sit there with a list of your mother’s divorce cases in your head.’

Avery moved the hem of her wedding dress so that it didn’t catch in her heel. ‘You know all those people?’

‘My Aunt Peggy does. They all live in her retirement home.’

‘But—’ Avery looked at her in exasperation. ‘What does this have to do with my wedding to Mal?’

‘I was distracting you before you exploded with fear.’

‘I’m not afraid!’

‘Yes, you are. But you’re facing your fear and that makes me so, so proud of you. And I really want to hug you right now but I daren’t ruin your hair and make-up because you look stunning.’ Jenny’s eyes glistened and she sniffed and flapped her hand in front of her face. ‘Oh look at me! I’m going to ruin my own make-up and everyone will think your best friend is a panda. You are a lucky woman, Avery Scott. Mal is gorgeous. He was the one who insisted on all this. The whole Palace has been in an uproar, changing everything on his orders.’

‘Changing everything? Changing what?’ Completely confused, Avery realised that the car had stopped. ‘Where are we?’

The door opened and Rafiq stood there. ‘Welcome. Can I help you with your dress, Your Highness?’

‘I’m not Your Highness yet, Rafiq, but thank you.’ With Jenny helping, Avery stepped out of the air-conditioned limo and gasped. ‘The desert?’ She blinked in the blaze of the sun. For a moment she just stood, overwhelmed by the savage beauty of the golden landscape. She never grew tired of looking at it. Never. ‘But the wedding was going to take place at the Palace.’

‘But you love the desert,’ Rafiq said quietly. ‘Although this has to be a public affair, His Highness was insistent that it should also be personal. The wedding itself is for the people, but this part—this is for you. ‘

Avery heard Jenny sniff but she ignored her. ‘But … oh … isn’t everyone angry that they had to come to the desert and stand in the heat?’

‘Angry that their futu

re Queen loves their country as they do?’ Rafiq gave an indulgent smile. ‘I hardly think so. And now everyone is waiting for you. Are you ready?’

Avery stared at the sea of faces. She was used to large gatherings, but never one where the attention was focused on her. She felt a sudden rush of nerves. ‘Where’s Mal?’

‘I’m right here.’ He was standing behind her, stunningly handsome in flowing robes, his eyes gleaming dark and the smile on his face intended only for her.

Even the unflappable Rafiq was shocked. ‘Your Highness! Convention states that—’

‘I don’t care about convention, I care about my bride.’ Mal took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, his eyes holding hers. ‘Are you afraid, habibti?’

She should be.

She was giving him everything. Her love, her trust and her heart. But the moment she’d seen him standing there, she’d been sure and the feeling filled her and warmed her. ‘I’m not afraid. I can’t believe you did this for me.’

‘I couldn’t change the date, but I could change the place.’ The words were for her and her alone. He managed to create intimacy despite the crowd watching and waiting. ‘Are you pleased that we’re marrying in the desert?’

‘Yes. You know I love it. I had our picture on the computer. It was the first thing I saw in the morning.’

‘I did the same. And every time I saw that picture I dreamed of this moment.’

Her eyes filled and she gave a strangled laugh. ‘Don’t make me cry!’

‘Never.’ As he lowered his head towards her, she closed her eyes and lifted her mouth to his but Jenny gave a shriek and intervened.

‘What are you doing? You can’t kiss her! You’ll mess up her make-up and she’ll look terrible in the photographs. Stop it, the pair of you. Rafiq, do something.’

‘Sadly, it seems I am powerless, madam. A fact I have long suspected.’ But there was humour in his voice as he bowed to Jenny. ‘May I escort you to your seat? The others are already waiting.’