The Sheikh's Claim (Desert Nights 2)

Her gaze wavered under the disappointment in his. “I—I just wondered…y’know, with you being a prince, if—if…”

She groaned again, words trailing off.

He heaved up, had her rolling to her side to watch him stride from the bed to the desk by the veranda. He picked up an MP3 player, tapped the screen and walked back with it held up to his lips.

“I, Jalal Aal Shalaan, hereby solemnly swear, on my life, on my honor, on my son—whose finger alone I value above my life—that one woman has ever and will ever be the largest part of my soul, just because she is who she is. My cherished, beloved Lujayn.”

Reaching the bed again, he held the player down to her. It replayed the pledge he’d just recorded.

“Whenever you have any worries and I’m not around, play this.” With a teary sob, she launched herself at him, raining laughter and tears all over him. “And when I am, just let me know, and I’ll take care of it for you, like this....”

And for the rest of the night, he showed her how he’d always take care of her every worry and need....

* * *

The day was here.

The day he’d tell the whole world he was Lujayn’s. The day he’d start his lifelong mission to heal all the injuries and injustice that he and his family had dealt her.

His gaze panned over his surroundings, and his lips spread. He had to give credit to Lujayn’s womenfolk. They had pulled off a miracle. He’d teased them, wondering if they did have a genie at their command. They had turned the neglected palace with its hideously ornate interiors, and especially the Qobba hall, into a most tasteful and lavish setting from an Arabian Nights fable. A setting worthy of his princess, the love of his life and the mother of his incomparable son.

His family, who had all arrived that morning, were now sitting in the huge semicircle facing the kooshah where he and Lujayn would join the ma’zoon to scribe their marriage vows in the book of matrimony. His father hadn’t looked this well and happy in…ever. His marriage to Anna Beaumont, Aliyah’s biological mother, and the love of his life, was doing him wonders. After a lifetime wasted in two marriages, first to the mother of Amjad, Harres and Shaheen, followed by the harsher blow of his and Haidar’s mother, their father deserved a break. And he’d at last gotten it. Anna seemed to be formed of pure love for her husband. His father had earned all this beauty and devotion, had done the right thing in abdicating the throne of Zohayd to Amjad. Now he could enjoy what was left of his life with the one woman his heart had chosen, and whom life and duty had deprived him of for three decades.

But though he was delighted for his father, tonight he could tell him and his older brothers and Haidar, that they could move over and vacate the position of happiest man on earth.

A sigh of pleasure and anticipation escaped him, as Lujayn’s favorite jasmine scent filled the gigantic hall, carried on a dreamlike mist.

Adam whooped and jumped in his arms. Heart pounding, his gaze moved to where Adam’s tiny finger was excitedly pointing. Lujayn’s bridal procession had just entered the hall, preceded by Dahab.

They looked like walking jewelry with their golden dresses. Every female in Lujayn’s family had joined the ranks. Almost all in his had. His brothers’ wives were all there, Johara, Talia, Maram and Roxanne. Aliyah was walking with her daughter, who skipped beside her looking like a pixie, and actually completing the image by throwing golden dust behind her.

The only women who didn’t make it to this wedding was Laylah, one of the three precious female Aal Shalaans. And his mother.

No one even spoke of Sondoss, as if her mention would be the evil spell that would spoil everything. He couldn’t blame them. Though he visited her whenever he could, he sure wasn’t inviting her into his life now that it revolved around Lujayn and Adam. The farther she stayed from Lujayn and her family, the better.

The heavy, driving beat of the zaffah started, the region’s traditional bridal procession rhythm. After a percussive intro, with Dahab acting as cheerleader, the whole attendance started singing the most famous regional bridal song, chanting the praises of the bride, congratulating her on her dashing groom and wishing her bountiful happiness and blessed progeny.

Every nerve strained for Lujayn’s entrance as Adam’s excitement reached fever pitch and he starting yelling her name. The song was repeated twice as the bridal procession took their places, surrounding the kooshah in petallike patterns, and everyone pinned their gazes on the hall’s entrance.

The entrance remained empty. The song was repeated three times more, and it remained so. After the fifth repetition the music stopped. Murmurs rose, then spread like wildfire. Everybody was looking around, expecting some surprise. When none came, they turned their gazes to him. He stood there, frozen, unable to think. He felt nothing but Adam wriggling in his arms. He put Adam down and he ran to his grandmother. Jalal met her gaze and saw in her bewilderment that she had no idea what was going on. And that she was growing more anxious with every heartbeat.

“You wait right here. We’ll go find out what’s going on,” Harres said, who’d come back from talking to the ma’zoon.

“What could be going on?” Haidar asked, who’d been standing beside him. As his closest brothers, both would be the marriage witnesses. “She either changed her mind about the dress, or she’s keeping you waiting a bit to punish you for all the years you didn’t even think of marrying her.”

Haidar gave him a reassuring backslap and strode away.

Jalal stood there, his mind stalled. Nothing would restart it but the sight of Lujayn.

Time warped, everything grated. The air, the weight of his costume, people’s glances.

Then Haidar and Harres strode into the hall again.

Harres swerved, headed for Amjad, Shaheen and their father. Haidar walked up to him.

Jalal could only stare at Haidar as he stopped before him.

He couldn’t read his expression. Wouldn’t. Everything refused to cooperate. Wouldn’t work. His mind. His voice. His heart.

Then with his voice as dark and regretful as his expression, Haidar said, “Lujayn is gone.”

Twelve

Gone.

The word revolved in his head again and again. It made no sense. It was impossible. Untrue.

Lujayn couldn’t be gone.

Then a chain reaction started, sparked by an insupportable thought. The only way she could be gone.

She’d been taken. Kidnapped.

His mind overflowed with dread. Talons of desperation pierced his brain as his fingers sank into the one thing left in his world, his twin’s immovable support. His vision phased in and out as a voice, rabid with fear, barely recognized as his, formed no words, just her name, over and over. He couldn’t say anything else and make it real.