Page 7 of Seduced By the Sheikh

But it wasn’t the same as in the rehearsals. It was hotter, there were more people, and seen through her veil everything was hazy, reinforcing the out-of-body sensation. Her crystal-encrusted bodice caught the shifting light, dazzling her, making her feel even more unsteady and unreal. A surge of panic made her seek out Zak. He was a fixed point on which to focus amid the confusion.

The long, ornate train felt heavy as it dragged behind her on the plush carpet. Slowly her awareness of everything around her—the murmurs of the hundreds of people assembled to witness their marriage, the soaring music and even the presence of her father—faded as she kept her eyes fixed on Zak’s unreadable gaze.

He gave her and her father a slight bow as she took her place beside him and her father stepped away. Beside Zak stood his brother, Kadar who gave her an encouraging smile and slight bow. There were only the two of them there. She’d thought Zak’s mother would have come, but it seemed not. Soraiya, along with the rest of Sirun, wondered where she was.

She remained feeling curiously separate and unreal—as if she were watching herself from afar—as they were seated by the Imam. Suddenly the room fell quiet and all eyes were upon them both as the ceremony began.

Some of the Imam’s words she caught, yet others drifted away from her. Prayer followed prayer, until it was her turn. She cleared her throat.

“I accept, I accept, I accept.”

Zak uttered the same words. Then pledges were exchanged and more prayers were delivered and the contract was signed. When the cheers erupted Soraiya knew her life had changed forever. She was married. For better or for worse. And, at that precise moment, she had no idea which it would be.

She nibbled on a plate of dates presented to her and listened to the blessings offered by strangers. And there were a lot of strangers but she was used to entertaining people she didn’t know, accustomed to stepping into the breach left by her mother’s departure and subsequent death. And she murmured appropriate responses and ventured short conversations with everyone who approached her.

The afternoon reception went off without a hitch. Everyone’s expectations had been met, including Soraiya’s. But the day was waning and she knew what came next. As the emptied plates of traditional food were eventually taken away, people turned to dancing as the music changed. And, while the guests relaxed and enjoyed themselves, Soraiya’s nerves grew. She’d scarcely eaten any dinner and now, as the afternoon turned to evening and the evening finally drew to an end, the knots in her stomach twisted tighter.

While they’d been seated beside each other, she’d hardly spoken with Zak as they’d constantly been surrounded by people wanting to speak to him and get to know their new Queen. Her cheeks ached with smiling, her mind was numb with small talk, and her nerves grew by the minute. So when the evening drew to a close and Zak stood up, she was more than ready to leave. It seemed to her it was better to face whatever was ahead then to deal with her nerves a minute longer.

They were accompanied only up to the double doors which led to the private wing of the palace. For a moment, Soraiya panicked. She gripped her father’s arm which he pulled away from. Then she watched as he and her brother turned away, laughing, already having moved on. They’d done what they’d come to do and would leave first thing in the morning. She didn’t know when she’d see them again. But then the heavy doors closed and she and Zak were alone. Zak had walked ahead but, suddenly aware she hadn’t moved from the door, looked back at her.

“Are you all right?”

She swallowed and turned around to face him. No light shone on his face. He was a stranger, and one to whom she’d just committed to spend her whole life. She opened her mouth to speak but a lump came into her throat. Instead, she nodded, because she’d made her choice. But the nod was a lie. She’d never felt less right in her life.

She half-stumbled past him—needing to put space between her and the celebration which felt more like a wake to her—to the safety of her bedroom. She could plead a headache. He surely wouldn’t inflict himself on her if she was unwell? She lifted her heavy skirts and began to run.

“Soraiya!” he called. Then she heard him mutter something. She didn’t answer him but continued on until the corridor ran out and she was faced with a choice of directions. She turned right to retrace her footsteps to her bedroom. But then she stopped. She suddenly realized she was no longer a guest and it was no longer her bedroom.

She jumped as she felt his hand on her arm. It wasn’t firm enough to hold her, and she began to pull away, but then he said her name once more and there was something in his gentle tone which stopped her from running. She stood, breathless, on the white, stone-flagged corridor, which dipped in the middle, smoothed by thousands of years of passing feet. Above them the vaulted ceiling disappeared, high into the shadows.

“Soraiya,” he repeated, his deep voice saying her name slightly differently to her father. It sounded more exotic on his lips. But she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she asked in a strangled voice. “Everything.” She grasped the fine material over her throat and tried to pluck it away but it was stiff and hardly moved. “I need air,” she said with a gasp. She turned and ran out of the building, taking the first open door into the garden, not caring what he thought, nor where she went, so long as it was away from him.

CHAPTER 4

The garden was lit by the torches which were thrust in sconces along the outside of the colonnaded walkway. She walked quickly toward the long rectangular pool upon which the moon was reflected. She looked up, blinked, and the stars swam. What on earth? She swiped under her eyes which came away dark with makeup.

“What is the matter?” She turned to see Zak standing beside her. She’d been so absorbed in her own panic, she hadn’t even heard him follow her. He was frowning, no doubt completely baffled as to why she should run away from him when most women ran towards him.

“Nothing’s the matter.” She was annoyed to hear her voice quaver. She couldn’t say anything further, afraid she would break down, afraid that she would reveal exactly how scared she was. She knew little of men other than in the business environment, and her role as sheikha had always protected her from anything other than respectful, anything that was personal.

He walked around her so that he had his back to the moonlight which shone directly onto her face. “You’re crying,” he said, frowning. “Why?”

How could he not know? “Why do you think?”

“I don’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve said goodbye to my father and brother and I don’t know when I’ll see them again. Or, maybe, it’s because I’m alone with a man to whom I’ve barely spoken and who I am now expected to be intimate with. Or, maybe, I’m just tired. Have you really not thought of any of these things?”

“No, I hadn’t. I thought you were content to do your duty.”

“No, I am resigned to do my duty.”

His frown deepened. “You do not wish to be married.”

He stated it. It wasn’t a question. She bit her lip. “It isn’t that. I do wish to be married. It’s just that I hadn’t expected to feel, so… so… bereft when the door closed and my father and brother disappeared.” She shrugged, and her gown felt stiff and heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t wait to change into her nightwear. Then she remembered she wouldn’t be dressing for comfort tonight and more tears ran down her cheeks.

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