The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife (Zahkim Sheikhs Series Book 3) Page 9

  "Yeah, but I've been doin' my own research on the laws. A marriage isn't valid unless both the bride and groom consent, meaning Jasmine wasn't gonna marry Nasim ever. But we're getting off topic. I'm here to ask if you ever want to see your grandson."

  Ahmad's mouth fell open again. The red drained from his face. Amal said something to him, and he shut his mouth with a snap. Ginni dug out her phone—thank everything the robes allowed jeans underneath—and pulled up the text from Jasmine, the one with the attachment of the ultrasound.

  "That's why Jasmine ran off with her Eric. He's the father of her child, and Jasmine couldn't in honor give the baby boy she's having to the wrong father. So instead of tossing the blame around or even thinkin' about ending Jasmine's marriage, why don't we focus on the good here? Like this little guy who's on his way."

  Sheikh Ahmad stared at the image. He glanced from the phone to Ginni to Amal. "This is not a trick?"

  Amal shrugged and sipped her tea.

  Leaning back in his seat, the cushions squeaking underneath him, Ahmad rubbed a hand down his beard. "A boy—a grandson."

  Amal smiled and nodded. "Just what you need, is it not? You have idiots for cousins and nephews—now you have a child coming who could be raised properly.”

  Sitting up, the sheikh waved to Ginni. "You must do that text thing you do. Tell Jasmine to come home. She must have her child born in Dijobuli."

  "Lemme get a photo of you grinnin' like this, so she knows you're meaning what you said." Ginni snapped a photo and texted it to Jasmine. It took another five texts to convince Jasmine this wasn't her father trying to get her back to Dijobuli just to end her marriage to Eric. By the time she had it sorted, Sheikh Ahmad was muttering that he must learn this texting thing, Amal had eaten all the pastries, and Ginni was itching to be gone.

  Sheikh Ahmad insisted on gifting them with a few trinkets—rings that set Sheikha Amal's eyes glowing—and Ginni kept trying to turn down the gold bracelet the sheikh insisted she take as a gift for the birth announcement of his grandson. They left him planning the child's education and future.

  Back in the limo and heading for Zahkim again, Ginni pulled off the veil and sat back in the limo. "Now's when I could do with a drink."

  Amal opened a hidden compartment in the divider between the driver and the backseat. "I keep it stocked in case Nasim ever travels with me."

  Ginni dug out a dark ale, popped the top, and took a long drag. She glanced over and saw Amal studying her, dark eyes bright. Ginni ran a thumb over her cheek.

  "Got something on my face?"

  With a chuckle, Amal pulled out a sparkling water and opened it. "You care for Nasim—you would not have done this if you did not."

  "He's easy on the eyes and more than a sweet guy. But…well, I'm not sure I'm good for him. Look at all the fuss I stirred up. And all I meant to do was help Jasmine out."

  Amal sipped her drink. She dug at the label with her thumbnail. "Nasim—you must understand something about him. He was greatly hurt by his mother leaving. But one day he will understand she had to." She stopped pulling at the label and fixed a stare on Ginni. "Jena loved Nasim's father—Nahyan Al Zayed Said. Ah, he was much like his son—charming, a good man. But poor Jena could not bear to stay after he died."

  Ginni wet her lips. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because what Nasim needs to have in order to make peace with his mother is to understand what a great love can inspire. He must know that, in order to know the heartache of its loss. You, Ginni, must be prepared to give him that…or you must go away."

  Ginni sat back, the ale now sour in her stomach and on her tongue. "I…I'm not sure I know much about great loves."

  Head tipped to one side, Amal studied her. "We shall certainly learn soon enough. And here we are at the border again. It looks as if a fuss is going on."

  Glancing out the window, Ginni saw the bar down across the road and more soldiers—in their sand-colored uniforms and black berets—than had been here earlier. Amal didn't seem bothered, so Ginni tried not to be until the door opened and a whole lot of Arabic flooded over her.

  "They want you to go with them," Amal said.

  "Yes…come, come!" One of the soldiers waved for Ginni to get out.

  Ginni glanced from the solider to Amal. "Is this bad?"

  Amal shrugged. "We shall see, won't we? We really must have your chart done soon to see what is in your future. Now, go with the soldiers, or you will make them unhappy, and that is never good when a man has a gun."

  Ginni climbed from the limo and then watched Amal wave goodbye as the car pulled away and headed into the desert, dust stirred up behind it. Stomach jumping, robes fluttering in a light breeze, she turned to the soldiers, all young, dark, and most of them good-looking guys. Well, the Leeland charm had worked before—why not again. She put on a smile and propped a hand on her hip.

  "Cho, but what do you big, strappin' boys want with little ol' me?"

  All she got back was a lot more Arabic. Seemed the guys knew about three words in English—yeah, come, and hurry, which came with a whole lot of yalla.

  Ginni was guessing that meant hurry herself along, as well. She got in the back of a big monster of a truck painted the color of the desert sand, and she was just hoping she wasn't in hot water.

  Then she started to worry about Amal's words—just what the heck was a great love? And should she maybe start to think about leaving, now she'd settled the mess she'd made for Nasim?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The truck stopped at a spot that overlooked the Ash Lands. Ginni recognized the place. The guys got out, opened her door, gestured for her to follow them. A lot more Arabic came at her, and she vowed she was going to start learning at least a few words. She climbed from the truck, robes flapping around her ankles. Licking her lips, she glanced around but didn't see much here. Warm sand slipped under her sandals, and warmer air brushed her face.

  Starting to get back into their vehicle, the guards chattered something to her.

  "You're not leaving?"

  The guys didn't get that and kept waving at her to walk away.

  "This some kind of punishment?" she asked.

  Grinning, they got into their truck. The driver started up the engine, and they took off, leaving her here like she was so much unwanted garbage. Ginni rubbed her arms and slipped her veil back on to get the sun off her head and out of her eyes.

  She licked her lips again. Well, at least she knew there was water nearby. This spot had been close to the oasis where she'd had her picnic with Nasim.

  The sun shifted, and the rainbow on the sands shimmered into existence. She let out a breath. In the distance, she thought she saw the glint of sun on metal. And maybe the flutter of a tent. It didn't look too far away. Nasim had driven to the oasis on a round-about road, but if she cut across the desert, she should be able to get there. The rainbow disappeared, and she started across the sands.

  She found Nasim waiting for her, sitting in a chair outside a huge, black tent, the oasis not far away from him. A loose, white tunic and white pants billowed around him, open at the neck to show his tanned skin and dark hair, but what distracted her utterly were his bare feet. She hadn't noticed before, but he had long, elegant feet. Nice feet. Feet you wouldn't mind stroking. Feet you wouldn't mind tangled up with yours.

  He held up a glass bottle of water. "Thirsty?"

  She dragged her stare from those bare feet of his. Temper sparking, she put her hands on her hips. "I just walked what felt like five miles."

  "It is less than a quarter mile, and no one is allowed to drive across the Ash Lands. You must go around to reach the oasis, or you must hike." He stood. "A small punishment seemed fitting for not telling me where you were going or what you had planned. I had to learn all from Sheikha Amal's maid. How did your meeting go?"

  Mouth pressed tight, she stared at him. Was Amal right? Did he need more than she could give? She thought of what Hank had told her, too. Maybe now was th
e time to stop this lovely fantasy she'd had with him. Time to let him go so he could find a woman he could fall in love with before he got married. It was worth at least trying Hank’s method.

  Gulping down a breath, she pushed out the words. "I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you."

  Nasim smiled and held out the water again. "What is it you think you are doing?"

  "I'm setting you free. Y'know, like that sayin'. I….well, I went to see Jasmine's daddy, as you know. He's okay now with Jasmine marrying Eric. He's also a lot more interested in seeing his grandbaby than having a chunk of Zahkim. And…and I'm leaving now. Amal good as said it was time for me to head on out, and I've been thinking that too, ’cause I don't want you thinking I only care about a deal and nothing else."

  Frowning, he put the water down on a small folding table. He started to say something, stopped, took a breath, and then took her hands in his. "Let me make sure I have this right. You're trying to divorce me because you love me? That sounds…backwards."

  "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? But Hank said divorce here was as easy as sayin' the words."

  He pulled her closer. "He is wrong—about many things, it seems. First off, yes, the old laws in Zahkim allowed a man to divorce his wife by just saying, 'I divorce you.' A woman never could."

  "Well, that's not fair. And boy, do I have to stop listening to what other folks tell me to say."

  "That would be wise, and as I said, that is no longer the law. Even if it were, we come to the second point, which is that you would need witnesses to make this divorce you seem to want a reality." He made a show of glancing around. "We are quite alone."

  She looked around as well. "Yeah. Guess it's just us."

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed her against him. Heat washed over her. "And, finally, I am not ready to let you go."

  "You're making me sound like a package you got in the mail. Besides, I brought nothin' but trouble to your door. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna keep doing that."

  "You are good at that."

  She bit her lower lip. Him holding her this tight had her heart beating too fast, and her mind kept going to how good he smelled and how much better he'd taste. She tried to focus. "So the best thing is for me to leave. ’Sides, Amal said you…you need a great love. I'm not sure I've got that in me."

  He tightened his hold on her. "Amal should mind her bloody own business. Why did she tell you such nonsense?"

  "’Cause of your mama up and leaving here after your daddy died. And…well, it's just the sex we've had. It's got you all turned around. Hell, it's got me all turned around."

  Dropping his arms away from her, he stepped back. "You think this is all just about sex?"

  She swallowed. "Well…haven't heard you say otherwise."

  His mouth clamped tight, and the pulse kicked up in his jaw. Ginni took a step back.

  Swinging away, he kicked at the sand, cursed in what sounded like Arabic, and threw his hands high.

  After a few minutes of this, he stopped, and Ginni muttered, "Wow—never seen you lose it like that. My daddy'd be impressed."

  "This is what you do to me!" Stomping back to her, he took her in his arms, kissed her until her head spun and her knees loosened. She had to grab him to hang onto the world. When he pulled back, Ginni gulped down a breath. Nasim was looking down at her with something in his eyes she hadn't seen before—something vulnerable and needy.

  "This is what you do to me. And if you think this is just sex, I think you need a better demonstration of what this really is."

  "Oh, yeah," she muttered.

  He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the tent.

  Ginni giggled. "Sorry," she said. "Just seems too much a cliché."

  He growled and dumped her onto a pile of pillows. She tried to scoot away, tried to start talking sense, but he was kissing her again, getting those robes off her, and then her jeans disappeared, and he was kissing every spot he bared and stroking over her skin with feathered touches, and she didn't want sense. She wanted him.

  She got his tunic off, got stuck with trying to get his trousers gone, so he did that, and then she had all that glorious skin next to hers and all that hard muscle under her hands. She let out a long breath and spread her legs for him.

  Holding himself up by his elbows, pushing at her with his erection, he told her, his voice low and rough, "This is not just sex." And then he pushed in.

  She gasped. This was better than on the office terrace. Better than in his bed. He pushed in slowly, took his time, made her feel every inch of him. He kissed her neck and bit softly. She moaned and put a hand on his ass.

  He pulled back. "No. We take this slow. I want to make love to you."

  With a smile, she pulled his head down to hers to kiss him. He nipped her lips, pulled out and pushed in again, so slowly she wanted to grab his hips and make him pump harder and faster. He drove her crazy with his patience, had her wiggling and begging for more. And still he made her wait. The need built in her along with the heat. It sizzled over her skin and sank into her. She wrapped her legs around him and gave up—let him set the pace, and when he pushed in deeper than she thought possible, when the shudders began in him, she gave in to the bliss of knowing a fragment of eternity.

  Shifting off her, he pulled her close to his side.

  Ginni traced a mindless pattern over his chest. "Okay, I'm leaving you more often if this is the result."

  Taking her hand, he held it. "That is too great a strain on my heart. You will have to find something else to tease me about. I also called your father."

  "What?" Ginni sat up. Nasim looked rumpled, his hair sticking up, and Ginni decided she must look just as thoroughly ravished.

  He pulled her back down to his side again. "I arranged a second wedding for us. We cannot rob your parents of seeing you wed. It will also ease the concerns of the family lawyers about if our first marriage was legal or not."

  Propping herself up on one elbow again, she asked, "You mean I'm not married to you?"

  Nasim took her hand and kissed her palm. "In my heart I have been married to you forever." He brushed the hair from her cheek. "My cousin Arif once told me that patience is the key to every great treasure. You are my great treasure, Ginni, my love. Habibi is the term you must learn. I feel as if I've been waiting all my life for you, habibi."

  She pulled her hand away. "What about that great love thing?"

  Putting his hands on her waist, he said, "I think a great love is much like a good business deal—it takes negotiations and time to mature. What do you think?"

  With a grin, she settled herself on his chest. "I think I like the negotiation part the best. So who's on top this time?"

  Epilogue

  Now this is a good day to marry."

  Nasim glanced over at his best man. Arif looked rather dashing in his tuxedo. Nasim pulled uncomfortably at his tie and almost wished himself into traditional robes. When in America, however, he was doing as his Ginni wished. He folded his hands in front of him.

  "Amal picked the date—she now has Ginni believing the stars hold our fates."

  Arif smiled. "And you don't? Fate brought you the right wife, Nasim. You should think kindly of kismet."

  He opened his mouth to answer, but the string quartet changed from Vivaldi to the traditional bridal march. Nasim pulled at his bow tie again. Sweat trickled down his back. The heat of Louisiana wrapped around him like an invisible, wet towel, far more intense than the heat of the desert. The heat had little to do with how his heart jumped, however. His bride had just appeared.

  She walked down the aisle in her red wedding dress, richly trimmed with gold, her veil in place, and her father holding her arm. In the front row, Jamie-Sue Leeland dabbed at her eyes. She sat ramrod straight, a huge, white hat half obscuring her face. Nasim's family sat on the opposite side of the aisle, all in traditional robes and no doubt sweltering just as he was, despite the shade of the oak trees that dotted the Leeland plantation.
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  White chairs lined the garden lawn. Ginni walked between them, down the deep blue carpet that created an aisle. She reached him under the arbor decked with gardenias and white roses, and Aldrich Leeland gave Ginni's hand to Nasim.

  Aldrich leaned in. "You make her happy, or I’ll have her nana put a gree-gree on you that’ll have boils breakin' out all over."

  "Daddy!" Ginni threw off her veil and shot her father a frown. “Not funny!”

  Nasim gave a shrug. He glanced over to his family. His mother had actually made the trip from Paris to Louisiana to attend. He still didn't know what to make of that or how Ginni had talked the woman into coming, but he would deal with that later. For now, he had a bride to wed for the second time.

  Ginni had wanted her family at her wedding—and what his Ginni wanted, she got. It had taken some months to arrange all the visas. And settling a deal with Leeland Enterprises had smoothed the path a good deal, for Aldrich Leeland had senators who owed him favors. At least with Ginni in the family, Nasim knew the deal would not end up to the disadvantage of Zahkim. Ginni would not allow that.

  He took her hand and bided his time as the ceremony began. It seemed thankfully short. Plus, he got to kiss Ginni at the end of it. That he held to be an advantage. Whistles and cheers greeted him taking Ginni in his arms. When his lips touched hers, he forgot about that. Forgot everything but the sweet taste of her, the caress of her fingers along the back of his neck, the soft moan she gave.

  And then someone was thumping his back, and photos had to be taken and a cake cut, and he had a second first dance with the bride.

  Whirling Ginni over the dance floor in his arms, he smiled down at her. "I think we should marry often. This is a good excuse to have another honeymoon."

  She grinned up at him. "Ah, cher, every day is our honeymoon. But you were wrong about this being like business. Handshakes come and go. But this…this, cher, this is a deal that is set to last forever."