The sheikh asked for her father’s blessing that same night, and after a private talk with Harper, a still slightly stunned Howard had given it. A logistical discussion then followed, with her father eventually agreeing to move into the palace with her and take up an official position in the sheikh’s government. After, the sheikh walked to her door, and when she looked up, he slowly shook his head at the mute question in her eyes.

“I don’t think I can control myself if I’m alone with you.” His voice was flat.

“I see.” She bit her lip.

“You are worried about something.”

“Does my being a virgin really matter so much?”

“It is one of the requirements of the law.”

“I see.” She knew she was being redundant, but it was the only thing she could think of saying, with the rest of her busy struggling against the wave of pain that came with her words.

“This disappoints you,” the sheikh observed.

“I’m not sure…how I feel about it.” Because what if she wasn’t a virgin? Didn’t that mean she wouldn’t have registered on his radar at all?

“You are wasting your time dwelling on hypothetical questions.” His words had her blinking in surprise, and the sheikh said simply, “You are easy to read.” After a moment’s hesitation, he slowly reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. “Just think of it this way, qalifa. Fate has decreed you to remain a virgin for me. Can you not be satisfied with that?”

No, Harper thought. What she really wished for was the impossible. She wanted him to say that he would still have chosen her, even if she weren’t a virgin. But that couldn’t be, could it? For only a man in love could say such things – and this man, for all his desire, for all his trust and respect of her, did not love her.

And so in the end, Harper only forced a smile. “I guess I can try.”

The sheikh pressed his lips to her hands. “It will be good between us, Harper. Believe this. Believe in me.”

“I…do.” More than I should.

Releasing her hands, he pulled her into his embrace, and she went to him willingly. He kissed her hair, murmuring, “Good night, my Harper.”

It was his first time to call her that, and her toes curled. Oh, this man was too good at exploiting her weakness. My Harper, he had said. It was too, too sweet, and yes, it was enough to dispel the hurt that came with his earlier words.

“Good night, sheikh.”

She felt him smile against her hair. “Do you not think it’s time you call me by my name?”

Harper thought about it, tried to imagine her saying his name, and she just…couldn’t. He had always been the sheikh to her, and to have that change overnight was ---

“Impossible,” she muttered.

The sheikh sighed. “And you would think that, of course.”

“Maybe next time,” she hedged.

“I would like to say that you sound very convincing, but you do not.”

She pulled away, grumbling, “Do you have to have your way with everything?”

“Is it too much to ask for my bride to call me by my name?”

And because she was feeling contrary now, she said hotly, “Yes, it is!”

They stared at each other.

A moment later, they were smiling.

“We will have a good marriage,” the sheikh declared.

Harper couldn’t help laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“But you believe me. Nem?”

She wanted to lie, just to be contrary, but looking into his dark eyes and seeing the soft gleam of tenderness in it, she realized she couldn’t do it. And so she mumbled, “Nem.” And then she quickly got inside her room and slammed the door on his face.

Harper leaned against the door, face flushed, heart swaying.

God, that had been embarrassing.

But it had also been true.

She did believe him.

Even though they didn’t love each other and came from different worlds – no, universes…

She believed him. They would have a good marriage. She would damn make sure of it.

* * *

Wedding preparations commenced the very next day, and Harper was immediately caught up in a whirlwind of activity. There were countless fittings to attend, names and faces to memorize, and then there were the rules.

There were so, so many of them, and worse was how they sometimes clashed against each other. There were rules in Arab culture that did not agree with certain customs distinct to the kingdom of Ramil. There were rules observed in Islam that were not known to Christians. And those just made up the tip of the iceberg, and it didn’t help at all that Harper’s court tutor was adamant that she would not only become familiar but proficient with them as well.

In the other part of the palace, the sheikh continued to receive daily reports on Harper’s activities, and reading it had become his private source of enjoyment. Her impressive progress in engaging in political and economic discussions he already expected, but what pleased the sheikh the most was how Harper never voiced a complaint to him even when her court tutor meted out punishments like she was no different from an ordinary pupil.

The day before the wedding, Harper made her first official appearance outside the palace as the sheikh’s future wife and queen. It was to be a quick visit to the American embassy, and rather than Khalil, she would have Sheikh Altair as her escort.

It was a test, of course, and Harper knew and accepted this.

The sheikh called her while she and Altair were still on the road. “Nervous?” he asked.

“To the point of throwing up,” she said shortly.

“Is there anything I do to ease your anxiety?”

Only one thing came to mind. Maybe an hour of making out? Her face turned red, and she coughed. “Nothing.”

“But it seemed that you’ve already thought of something.”

“Nope.” Shit. Why did her voice sound so squeaky?

“I do not believe you,” the sheikh said huskily. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Okay?” She heard him start to speak, but this time she didn’t let him. One quick press of a button, and the call had ended.

“Did you just hang up on Khalil?” Sheikh Altair, who was seated across her in the limousine, asked her curiously.

Harper grimaced. “Kinda?” But she had no choice. Khalil would’ve seduced the truth out of her if she hadn’t.

“You know he will not let you get away with that.”

“Yup.” Her tone was half-glum, half-resigned, and Altair smiled. Most women would have been downright terrified, but Harper Griffiths was once again proving herself different from the rest. If she could be this brave with the king, Altair thought, then she should have no problem dealing with the rest of the world.

And Altair was right.

Although Harper’s knees threatened to buckle when it was finally her turn to address the crowd at the embassy, she only allowed herself a quick prayer and several deep breaths before she began with her speech. A small part of Harper expected herself to choke and stammer, but the words flowed out smoothly. And as she gazed at the deployed soldiers in front of her, men who willingly risked their lives for love of country, she remembered her own father, and it was in that moment the words she had merely been reading from a piece of paper became words that came from her heart.

The time you spend away from your loved ones alone makes each and every one of you a hero. The world may not know this, or they may forget it is so, but we won’t. We will always remember, and we thank you for this. Our future is made safer and brighter because of you.

A resounding applause followed the end of Harper’s speech, and she flashed an awkward smile before quickly turning away to blink back tears. God, but why was she so quick to cry these days? Either there was something wrong with Ramil’s air or it was an inevitable occupational hazard of being queen.

“You did good,” Altair said as they headed out of the embassy.

“Hmph.”

Altair smiled. Although he hadn’t spent as much time with Harper as Khalil had over the years, he was not unfamiliar with her contrary ways, and this, he knew, was simply her way of hiding her embarrassment.

When they got back to the palace, the first thing she saw was the Emir Sheikh, waiting for her by the steps. He was dressed in a white thobe, his dark hair covered by his headdress, and oh, how her heart raced at the sight of him.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, the sheikh opened his arms, and she flew into his embrace like a homing bird.

“You made me proud today, my Harper.”

“Hmph.”

But the sheikh only smiled. “You are cute when you’re embarrassed.”

She immediately pulled away. “No, I’m not.”

But the sheikh was already speaking to his cousin, thanking Altair for accompanying Harper to the embassy. And then they were walking away, the sheikh holding her hand, and she bit her lip hard. Gaaah. He was just holding her hand, and it was already making her heart beat so.

How shallow could she get?

Harper was perplexed when she realized they were heading to his office. “Do we have a meeting?” These days, those were the only times that the sheikh allowed himself to be in her company.

“No.”

Harper’s confusion deepened even as she allowed the sheikh to usher her inside. As the door closed behind her, she turned around, asking, “Then why---mmph.”

The sheikh had captured her mouth in a deep, hard kiss, and when she got over her shock she eagerly kissed him back, her arms going around him just as he swept her up in his arms. She expected the sheikh to bring her to the couch, but instead she found herself being laid on his desk, her legs dangling on the edge.

Harper immediately sat up as the sheikh reached for the hem of her abaya. “What are you doing?” Her voice had turned into a squeak as the sheikh pushed her abaya, together with the dress underneath it, all the way up to her waist.

After, the sheikh glanced at her. “Your reward.”

“My what?”

A second later, the sheikh went down on her.

Oh. My. God.

She immediately fell back against the desk.

What. A. Reward.

She had no idea how he had known that this was what she wanted, but she wasn’t complaining. Harper felt his tongue stroke her against the wet cotton, and her entire body shuddered. Definitely not complaining.