Before she had to think of something to say, Fatima bustled back into the room. “Everything is in order,” she announced. “Are you ready?”
The wedding passed in a blur, as did the banquet that followed. Safely hidden in her robe and veil, Heidi remained a silent observer to all that happened.
One good thing about El Baharian weddings, she thought as she refused an offer of food. Nothing much was expected of the bride except that she show up and be quiet. As a student of El Baharian history, she’d been insulted by the lack of participation by one of the key players. Now as a very nervous, virgin bride, she was thrilled by her simple role. If only she could get through the rest of the night so easily.
“Are you ready?” Jamal asked, leaning close and whispering in her ear. “I think we’ve been here long enough.”
Heidi was torn. Leaving meant not being here…which was a good thing. She was tired of everyone staring at her. But leaving also meant being alone with Jamal, which wasn’t a good thing.
“Sure,” she whispered back, then held out her hand so that he could help her to her feet.
Instantly the guests began to call out comments. Khalil’s voice rose above the others as he yelled, “You couldn’t even wait an hour? Watch out, Heidi. Jamal’s going to wear you out.”
A female voice, thick with embarrassment and outrage, shushed him. Despite the other people talking and whistling, she heard Khalil’s murmured reply. “I know what I’m talking about, Dora, because I felt exactly the same way on our wedding night.”
Heat flared on Heidi’s cheeks. This time there was no escaping the reality of her embarrassment. Life had certainly taken a turn for the different, she thought as they stepped out of the banquet hall and into the relative quiet of the hallway.
“How are you holding up?” Jamal asked.
Heidi didn’t know how to answer. Actually she wasn’t sure she could answer. Jamal was trying to be kind, and she appreciated that, but she was overwhelmed by the thought that he was now her husband. They were married. Under El Baharian law, he practically owned her.
She tried a weak smile, but she had a feeling that it came out more as a grimace. Jamal confirmed her suspicion.
“That bad, huh?” he said, then put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her down the hall. “Tell you what. We’ll go to my suite. You can get changed there, and then we’ll head out into the desert. Once we’ve left all these people behind, you’ll feel better.”
She swallowed. “The d-desert?”
“Right. We spend the night out there. Don’t you remember?”
Oh, she remembered all right, even though she’d been doing her best to forget. For the past several centuries, members of the royal family had spent their wedding night out in the desert. She knew that somewhere a large tent had been set up. Not just any tent, but a white one, filled with pillows and tapestries and a big bed on a dais. There would be trays of food, bottles of champagne and wine, scented oils, and who knows what other items to delight the senses.
“Here we go,” Jamal said as he stopped in front of two carved double doors.
Heidi stared, then licked her lips. “These would be, ah, your rooms?”
“Our rooms now. When we get back tomorrow, we’ll have your things moved here from the harem.”
They were going to share rooms…and a bed. A strangled cry caught in her throat. She did her best to hold it back, and if her new husband heard the squeak that escaped, he didn’t comment.
“Fatima told me you were taking riding lessons,” he said as he pushed the right-hand door open and led the way inside. “She said you wanted to be able to ride to our marriage tent. Do you feel ready, or would you rather take a Jeep?”
It was a reasonable question, she thought as she took in the large open living room with its magnificent view of the Arabian Sea. She had a brief impression of comfortable furniture and lots of artwork before she forced herself to concentrate on the question.
“I can ride a horse,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking too much. “I’ve been practicing. I’m not ready to race or take on one of the stallions, but with a well-tempered gelding and a not-too-fast pace, I’ll be fine.”
Jamal reached up and lifted the veil off her face. Then he tugged off her headpiece and tossed it on a nearby chair.
“Tell me again that you’ll be fine,” he said.
He, too, wore ceremonial robes. His were the same thick creamy, white material, although not decorated. His formal headdress made him look dangerous and uncivilized, which didn’t help her frame of mind at all. She was going to have to take her clothes off and let this man touch her and do those other things with her. Since she’d agreed to the marriage, she’d tried to ignore that reality, but that was impossible when it was standing right in front of her, so to speak.
“Everything is wonderful,” she said through gritted teeth.
He smiled. “You’re not a good liar, which is a positive quality in one’s spouse.” He jerked his head to the right. “You’ll find your riding clothes in there. Go on and get changed. I’ll meet you at the stable in fifteen minutes.”
She did as he requested. The room she entered was small—obviously a dressing room. Her riding clothes and boots waited for her on a small table. There was also a brush and ribbon with which to secure her hair. She stared at the items. Jamal had thought of everything. He’d even left her alone to gather her composure, which was very nice of him. Obviously he was trying to put her at her ease. She wished it wasn’t going to be such an uphill battle.