He shook his head. ‘No man could love a woman as much as I love you, Jenna,’ he declared.
Well, she certainly wasn’t going to argue with that!
They were gathered at one of Long Island’s most glittering hotels, waiting for the wedding of her sister Nadia to Brad Toulmin, a ceremony made possible by the intervention of her Sheikh.
Jenna had told Rashid all about Nadia and Brad’s forbidden love affair, and his calm and accepting reaction had both surprised and delighted her.
‘The ways of the heart are mysterious,’ he had commented thoughtfully. ‘What use will it serve if they are forced to part and Nadia comes home to marry a Quadorian if she is not happy? No use at all!’ he had finished passionately.
It had been Rashid himself who had broken the news to her father.
‘Two such different cultures!’ her father had protested. ‘It is rare for such a union to last!’
‘But you married an American yourself, Bulent,’ Rashid had pointed out softly. ‘Why should your daughter not do the same?’
It was unarguable logic and the older man had caved in immediately.
And of course, as Jenna had gleefully told Nadia afterwards, how could their father possibly refuse Rashid anything? He was the Sheikh!
The wedding was to be held in the extravagant flower-laden gardens of the hotel, and Jenna was brimming over with excitement. And with love. It seemed scarcely credible that it was over a year since their own wedding. The last six months had whizzed by like six seconds, and they had been so very happy together. She looked up to find her husband watching her closely.
‘What is it?’ she questioned.
He smiled. Sometimes he felt as though she could read his mind! Come to think of it, she probably could! She could certainly twist him with great ease around her little finger. He had made many conces
sions to his fiery wife to improve the quality of their life together—and had actually discovered that he enjoyed making them, much to his surprise. He had begun to delegate more, and to trust her with his confidences. And every week they spent a whole day and night together which were set aside just for the two of them.
But Jenna was busy herself these days, helping to free the Quador Press—to the complete astonishment of the world at large.
‘You know that such a move will boost your international standing, Rashid,’ she had told her husband winningly.
And of course she had been right.
He sighed with a tender indulgence. When was she ever wrong?
‘Do you grow more beautiful with each day that passes?’ he questioned softly, thinking how radiant she looked today.
‘Well, I certainly hope so,’ she said demurely, and then looked up at him. ‘Do you still want to give me a baby, darling?’
He nodded and traced the outline of her lip with the tip of his finger. ‘Yes, I do—but I’m not sure that I can bear to share you with anyone just yet,’ he admitted slowly. ‘Imagine what my people would say if they knew that!’
She hid a smile. The Rashid of old would never have put his feelings on the line like that! But she had taught him that communication was vital in a happy marriage. And that love and showing your feelings never equalled weakness. ‘Then we’ll wait a little longer, shall we?’
‘You don’t mind?’
She shook her head. ‘The only thing I would ever mind would be if I didn’t have you,’ she said seriously.
‘Then only death shall part us, my sweet.’ And he brushed his lips against hers, feeling her shiver beneath him, loving her instant responsiveness. ‘I wish I could take you to bed right now,’ he said huskily.
The band began to strike up the ‘Wedding March’, and Jenna slipped her hand into his.
‘You’ll have to wait for that too, my Sheikh.’
‘Not for too long,’ he growled, sizzling her a look of hungry intent which set her heart racing.
‘N-no, not for too long,’ she agreed unsteadily, and with a harmony of body language which reflected their closeness more than words ever could they both turned round to watch the marriage service begin.
Kate Walker