Page 35 of Her Arabian King

“I...do.” More than I should.

Releasing her hands, he pulled her into his embrace, and she went to him willingly. He kissed her hair, murmuring, “Good night, my Harper.”

It was his first time to call her that, and her toes curled. Oh, this man was too good at exploiting her weakness. My Harper, he had said. It was too, too sweet, and yes, it was enough to dispel the hurt that came with his earlier words.

“Good night, sheikh.”

She felt him smile against her hair. “Do you not think it’s time you call me by my name?”

Harper thought about it, tried to imagine her saying his name, and she just...couldn’t. He had always been the sheikh to her, and to have that change overnight was—-

“Impossible,” she muttered.

The sheikh sighed. “And you would think that, of course.”

“Maybe next time,” she hedged.

“I would like to say that you sound very convincing, but you do not.”

She pulled away, grumbling, “Do you have to have your way with everything?”

“Is it too much to ask for my bride to call me by my name?”

And because she was feeling contrary now, she said hotly, “Yes, it is!”

They stared at each other.

A moment later, they were smiling.

“We will have a good marriage,” the sheikh declared.

Harper couldn’t help laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“But you believe me. Nem?”

She wanted to lie, just to be contrary, but looking into his dark eyes and seeing the soft gleam of tenderness in it, she realized she couldn’t do it. And so she mumbled, “Nem.” And then she quickly got inside her room and slammed the door on his face.

Harper leaned against the door, face flushed, heart swaying.

God, that had been embarrassing.

But it had also been true.

She did believe him.

Even though they didn’t love each other and came from different worlds – no, universes...

She believed him. They would have a good marriage. She would damn make sure of it.

WEDDING PREPARATIONS commenced the very next day, and Harper was immediately caught up in a whirlwind of activity. There were countless fittings to attend, names and faces to memorize, and then there were the rules.

There were so, so many of them, and worse was how they sometimes clashed against each other. There were rules in Arab culture that did not agree with certain customs distinct to the kingdom of Ramil. There were rules observed in Islam that were not known to Christians. And those just made up the tip of the iceberg, and it didn’t help at all that Harper’s court tutor was adamant that she would not only become familiar but proficient with them as well.

In the other part of the palace, the sheikh continued to receive daily reports on Harper’s activities, and reading it had become his private source of enjoyment. Her impressive progress in engaging in political and economic discussions he already expected, but what pleased the sheikh the most was how Harper never voiced a complaint to him even when her court tutor meted out punishments like she was no different from an ordinary pupil.

The day before the wedding, Harper made her first official appearance outside the palace as the sheikh’s future wife and queen. It was to be a quick visit to the American embassy, and rather than Khalil, she would have Sheikh Altair as her escort.

It was a test, of course, and Harper knew and accepted this.

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