Chapter 22

Janna

It must be more than an hour later, by which time I’ve bitten my nails down to the quick, when I hear someone at the door. When it opens, the last person I’d expected, but the first that I’d hoped, appears. Jasim. Following at his heels is Rais, who clearly has difficulty hiding a smirk when Jasim strides across the room, places his hands either side of my face and insistently presses his lips to mine. Automatically I open for him, his tongue drives inside, and I taste a mix of sweet and bitter, the flavour of Arab coffee. The way he moulds to me makes me feel like I’m coming home, and with that one action he wipes all my resentment away.

When he pulls back, his hands still hold me, fingertips gently caressing my skin, “Janna, oh, my Janna. I’m so sorry, can you forgive me?”

My mind blown away by that devastating kiss, for a moment I’ve forgotten what he’s done wrong.

“I couldn’t speak to you until I’d calmed down. Oh, Janna. Habiti, forgive me, please?”

Rais standing off to one side, shakes as though he’s laughing inwardly. “Forgive him, Janna, please.” Then, his mirth disappears. “We need to move this on.”

I pull back, holding him at arm’s length, “I accept your apology for shutting me out. But tell me what’s wrong, please? What’s happened to Sally? Where has she gone?” His anger might have disappeared, but he’s still tense, “What can I do to help find her?”

He speaks to Rais, but his eyes stare into mine, “How can I tell her, Rais? How can I explain? How do I fucking do this?”

The desert sheikh comes closer, his hand resting supportively on Jasim’s shoulder. His face turned to mine, he takes it on himself to enlighten. “Janna, Fadi abducted your friend Sally, but she’s not the woman he desires.”

That doesn’t make any sense. My brow furrows as I look from one to the other, and ask, “So why did he take her? And who does he really want?”

Jasim wipes his hand over his face, as he takes over, his voice trembles as though it’s full of emotion. “You. He wants you.”

Me? “Me?” my voice comes out as a squeal. “Why on earth would he want me?”

With narrowing eyes, Jasim gives me an appraising look, taking me in from head to toe, “We’ve discussed this, and there’s only one reason. The same reason why I wanted you. Because you’re beautiful. And, from what he saw, untouched.”

I shake my head. Oh, I know I’m quite decent looking, I’ve had fans for years, but I’m not particularly exceptional. Hell, there must be hundreds, thousands of women more attractive than me. My brow creases as I frown. “What exactly did it say in that note, Jasim?”

As though seeking some help, his eyes flit to Rais before coming back to me. He draws in a sharp breath, “He wants to make an exchange. You, for Sally.”

Oh shit. “And? If we don’t, he’ll keep Sally?” I can’t leave her to that fate. But I’m not certain I’m brave enough to offer to take her place.

“He’s threatened her if we don’t meet his demands.”

Fuck! “He’ll hurt her?”

The worry on his face increases my concern as Jasim shrugs, “He might do. I don’t believe we can afford to take that risk.”

My brain’s unable to compute all the implications. “Jasim, what are we going to do?” If my voice sounds shaky, I think I can be excused given the circumstances. He couldn’t be considering me swapping places with her. Could he?

As if reading my mind, immediately his arms encircle me, holding me tightly to him, “I’m not going to let him near you, I promise you that. We’re going to get Sally back, without giving you up.”

“How? If he’s threatened to harm her?” I can feel his fingers gripping me, the tension in him evident. To prompt him I ask again. “How, Jasim? How can we get her back without swapping me for her? He’s threatened to hurt her, I can’t let him do that.” But, on the other hand, I don’t want to become the plaything of a rough desert sheikh, one who I’ve never even met, in her stead. As Jasim delays answering, I look down at my interlocked hands, not surprised to find they’re visibly trembling. Though the air conditioner is working, sweat comes to my brow. I’d heard the southern desert of Amahad had a troubled reputation, lost in the ways of the ancient world, but coming here to experience it had seemed like it would be a bit of fun. Fun, huh? This is anything but.

Warm hands cover mine, “There is a solution.”

For the life of me I can’t imagine what it is.

“Habiti, come.” Jasim leads me to a low couch, and encourages me to sit. He folds his long limbs, and I feel his leg touching mine. However inappropriate in the current situation, I feel the stirrings of lust, an automatic reaction when his body is close. I try to inch away, his arm comes around me, locking me to him.

I glance up at his face, his eyes are half closed.

“Janna, I’ve a proposition to put to you. But let me explain first.” He nods up at Rais, who turns and leaves us alone. “We know where they’re holding Sally, and the problem is, where he’s taken her makes it very difficult to attempt a rescue. Even if we go with an army. Fadi’s chosen his site well.”

“Difficult or impossible, Jasim? And if you attack him, is there a chance he could retaliate and do something to her?”

“Veering towards the impossible I’m afraid. Look, Janna, I don’t know Fadi well enough to say whether he’d make good on his threat. But if we make our approach without you, he’ll know that he’s lost. And he’ll be a desperate man.”

Desperate men do desperate things. This is all so alien to me. What do I know about soldiers and fighting? Zilch. I could talk thirteen to the dozen about chord progressions but nothing about making preparation for war. All I can do is to listen. Hoping he’s got a plan to get Sally back unharmed, and selfishly hoping there’ll be no risk to myself, I take a deep breath. “Okay, so what do you propose?”

His hands touch my face as he turns me toward him, despite the seriousness of our discussion, there’s a wry grin on his face, “You’ve hit the nail on the head, habiti.”

What? What have I said? My brow creases as I go back over the words I’ve just spoken, finding nothing jumps out at me. His fingers try to smooth the wrinkles away.

“If we marry, I have a claim on you. One which Fadi will understand and must respect. By our ancient laws, you will be untouchable. A member of, and protected by, the royal family.”

My eyes open wide. Marry? Surely that isn’t what he’s just suggested? “What on earth do you mean?”

He shrugs, nonchalantly, his gesture at odds with the seriousness of his words, “I’m proposing to you. Will you marry me?”

What the hell is he talking about? Frowning at the casual way he threw it into the conversation, I think quickly. There’s no way I can marry him. I haven’t thought about marrying anyone. I’m twenty-two years old, for goodness sake, plenty of time to think about getting hitched in the future. I must be misunderstanding. This has to be some kind of joke.

“You can’t mean it. You said yourself you weren’t in the market for anything permanent.” I state, then reconsider, “Or is it just a pretence to get Sally back?” That must be it. It wouldn’t be real.

He takes one of my hands in his, his fingers tracing the veins on the back, “Janna, you know I’m a sheikh, but more than that, I’m a Prince of Amahad.”

He’s never come over as royal to me, but I know who he is. I don’t understand what bearing it has on the situation. My head tilts to one side as I await his explanation.

He squeezes his fingers, “When I marry, habiti, it will be international news. Fadi will expect it. And as a prince of this land, any relationship will be watched very carefully. A marriage will need to look real. But,” now a smile comes to his face, “After last night I don’t think we’d have any problem in that area. In the short term, at least.”

I’m thinking fast, “What about an engagement instead? Then we can break it off when Sally’s safe.”

“Fadi won’t go for that. The idea of a long waiting period once two people agree to be wed is not something familiar to his desert ways.”

“You say short term?”

“You’d have to act as my wife, until such a time as we can amicably separate. And ensure it’s not in such a way as to discredit the Crown.”

I stand, my back to Jasim, my hands wringing together. “I’ve never considered getting married. And I certainly didn’t expect a proposal linked with how soon we could get a divorce.” No, if I ever thought about it, it was in far more romantic ways. A candlelit dinner, perhaps, a man getting down on his knees. But what man could do more for me than Jasim had arranged last night? Though, that certainly hadn’t been with any proposal in mind. Or at the time, a relationship lasting for longer than just the one night.

Hearing a swishing of robes, I’m not surprised to feel him standing behind me, so close his chest is pressed against my back. “You’re right. I told you I’m not a man for a permanent relationship. Fuck, Janna. If there was any other way to be certain of getting Sally back, I wouldn’t be saying these things.” His hands cup my shoulders, “You deserve so much more.”

I shrug off his touch, him being so close to me is making me weaken. What would it be like to belong to this man? “Surely there must be some other way?”

“None that we can think of. Unless we want to sacrifice men on a mission bound to fail.”

“So we sacrifice ourselves.” But would it be so bad? Last night had been amazing. Then another problem occurs to me, “The band members would kill me.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Jasim moves to stand in front of me, “I took your virginity last night. And I’m a primitive type of man. With hot desert blood in my veins. Tell them I swept you away, and asked you to marry me.”

“Make them believe it’s real?”

“Why not?”

They’d certainly have a lot to say about it. But could I convince them? Making them think it was credible might be easier than asking them to accept it was all one big sham. And I expect the least people who know the truth the better.

Now his hands are touching me again, his fingers teasing the sides of my breasts. My nipples peak visibly through the fabric of the tunic I’m wearing. Then he takes hold of my arm, moving my fingers down until they brush against a very hard cock. “It wouldn’t be a chore, Janna. I’d make sure you enjoy it.”

“What if I’m not enough for you?”

He leans his head down until his forehead is resting against mine, “I think last night showed there are endless possibilities between us. You enjoyed what I did to you. You still carry my marks.”

And that reminder is making me wet.

Can I do through with it? How can I not.

“What will happen with me playing in the band?”

“We’ll sort all of that out. Take it one step at a time and see what happens.”

He pushes in close, his hardness rubbing against my soft stomach, he’s not playing fair.

“Okay.” Softly, I say the word I hope I’m not going to regret.

“Okay?”

I repeat it more strongly, “Okay, yes. If this is the only way to get Sally home safe.” I raise my eyes to look at him, “But, Jasim, I wouldn’t be agreeing to marry you if it wasn’t for her.”

“And I wouldn’t be asking,” he counters without missing a beat.

The corners of my lips turn up, “So, a match made in heaven then?”

He grins, “Exactly that.” Lowering his head, his mouth comes down on mine, and we seal our bargain, tongues mashing together, lips moving, teeth nipping. Breathless, we break apart. The surprise on his face must match mine.

“We might have pre-empted our wedding night, but I can’t wait to have you again. And when I do, you’ll be my wife.”

I don’t understand my reaction, a giddy excitement making me tingle.

We’re interrupted by the door opening, it’s Rais who’s returned. As he enters, Jasim throws him a nod. “It’s done. Janna’s agreed.”

Rais nods in acknowledgement as if he’d never had any doubt about my response. In on the ruse, he doesn’t offer insincere congratulations, but comes over to take my hand, “Thank you, Miss Stevens. If there was any way to avoid this we would take it. But I, for one, don’t want the blood of your colleague staining the sands.”

And like that, a bucket of icy water has been thrown over my arousal. However he’s phrased it, Jasim’s being coerced in the same way as I am. Neither of us want this. We’ve just got to survive it.

“So, what happens next?” I shove my disappointment down, and now want to move this charade along so Sally can be safe.

“We’re expecting visitors.” A new voice enters the conversation, I hadn’t seen Ryan come in. “Your band mates are arriving soon, and Jasim, your brothers are flying in too.”

“It’s time to prepare you.” Rais’s mouth twitches, as though in amusement. “I’ve asked Lamis to assist.”

Jasim looks serious as he jerks his chin toward the men, “Apart from the three of us in this room, and my brothers, this has got to look genuine. We can’t have a sniff of the that the wedding’s fake getting to Fadi, neither do we want any news of Sally’s abduction getting into the press.”

Rais barks a laugh, “Lamis is a romantic. And half the palace knew about your preparations for last night. It will be seen as a natural progression of yesterday’s indiscretion. You two just act your parts, and no one will be any the wiser. When the news reaches Fadi, he’ll have no doubt it’s authentic.” He chuckles softly, and points to the two of us, “The very air shimmers with desire when the two of you are together. No one will have difficultly believing you’ve taken a bride, Jasim.”

“What will Fadi do? Are you certain he’ll return Sally unharmed?” I want to make sure I’m not tying myself to this man I barely know, however temporarily, for no reason.

And that’s when I’m answered with silence. Bloody hell, I could be giving up my freedom and it could all be for nothing.

“We’ve got to trust it will work. It’s our best option.” As Rais finishes speaking, he steps aside to let a bubbling and excited Lamis in. She bows deeply to Jasim, delight written all over her face.

Then she comes over to me, “This is wonderful, kunt 'aerif mataa attabaet alttaelimat alkhassat bik 'ams wa'aeaddatha lak.” As she lapses into fast Arabic I glance at Jasim, who’s wearing an amused expression on his face.

At my raised eyebrow he translates, “She suspected as much, yesterday.” Well, it seems Rais had been right in his assessment, and maybe we won’t have to try too hard to make people believe we fell sufficiently in love to want to spend the rest of our lives together after just one night. I doubt Mickey and the rest will take it with such understanding.

“Come with me. I help get ready.” As Lamis waves toward the door, and Jasim nods to indicate I should go with her, I decide to play my part and shelve my misgivings for now. The maid’s excitement is infectious, and I allow it to influence me, knowing how much is weighing on making this appear real.

Lamis takes me through corridors which have me wondering just how old this palace is. The stone beneath our feet is worn away by the thousands, millions of footsteps which must have passed this way. Soon we seem to leave the world of men behind, as I’m taken to an area where women are waiting. A huge bath sunken into the floor, already steaming with water strewn with floating rose petals on the surface. I’m bathed, have makeup put on me, in a similar way to last night. Then, clothed in a robe, they seat me on a chair.

Another woman comes in, this one carrying a box. She opens it, revealing its contents, and takes my hand. At first, I suspect nail varnish, but she gets out a small brush.

“What’s she doing, Lamis?”

“Henna,” Lamis replies, “She paints hands. New bride do no housework while henna lasts.”

Hmm, that sounds a good tradition. But then I remember Jasim has a housekeeper in England, so I doubt I’d be doing much of that in any event. I’m marrying a sheikh. The thought makes me pull my hand away, suddenly reluctant to go on with this farce. He’s so out of my league, sexually as well as socially. I won’t be able to pull this off.

“Let her paint hand.” Lamis seems distressed I might not go through with the ritual, but it’s more than that. Maybe I won’t go through with the wedding at all. But what about Sally? I can’t leave her to an unknown fate. Taking a deep breath, I start to hold out my hand again. Then narrow my eyes, “You always do this? For a wedding?”

“Yes,” Lamis beams, “Is custom.”

“How long does it last? Does it wash off?”

“Lasts a full moon.”

I take it she means a month. If nothing else, it could be a visible sign that we really are married. Something to convince the rogue sheikh. With a sigh I give in, and watch with intrigue as the delicate pattern is painted on my hands, and then on my feet. As my skin becomes stained with henna, I start to feel like a bride. And, putting aside the enormity of what I’m committing too, think instead of the wedding night and sharing a bed once more with Jasim. That’s something to look forward to at least.

Then I have doubts. He’d told me about his appetites, will I be able to fulfil them? What if he’d been taking it easy last night? When we’re married will he think he owns me? Could he actually hurt me? Will I be enough for him? What do I really know about him? His heritage and what he believes? He’s a stranger, and has been brought up in a very different way of life. The fact Fadi could just steal a woman, and wanted to exchange her for me… Would Jasim think I belong to him, and not just for play? A shiver runs down my spine, as I realise I have no idea for I’m letting myself in for.

But Sally will be safe. And I’d rather take my chances with Jasim than with the unknown Sheikh Fadi.