The Tarnished Jewel of Jazaar

“And as your Sheikha,” Nadir announced, “she will spend her days and nights tending to me.”

Zoe lowered her head as the guests cheered. Anger swirled inside her chest. The tribe was thrilled that she pleased the Sheikh. He wasn’t going to let her leave his side and she wouldn’t have time to nurse the sick because she had the honor of being at his beck and call.

The man had no idea how important it was for her to work. Before her parents died Zoe had volunteered at the local hospital with her mother. It had been exciting and she’d known then she wanted to have a medical career like her father’s.

Her dreams of practicing medicine with her father had been shattered when her parents died in a car accident and suddenly she had found herself living in a foreign place with people she didn’t know. She had suffered through the language barrier, strange food and an unwelcoming tribe. But when she’d watched the healer treat the sick, Zoe had felt she was back in familiar territory.

In a matter of months she had become the healer’s assistant. It was supposed to be a punishment, but she had wanted to learn. When Zoe noticed that the poor women were reluctant to seek medical help from a male healer, she gradually took on the female patients. It was her way of continuing her family’s legacy, and practicing medicine had become her lifeline.

She had finally found a way to stay away from Uncle Tareef’s house and focus on something other than her difficult situation. And when she handled a medical emergency she felt the same excitement she had when she’d been back home in the local hospital. Taking care of women in need had let her find a sense of purpose. It was the one thing that kept her going.

And now the Sheikh wanted to take that away from her? Zoe closed her eyes and tried desperately to control her temper. She had to give up the one thing that interested her, the one thing she was good at, because Nadir didn’t like it? It wasn’t fair. She wanted to argue right here and now.

What was she upset about? Zoe slowly opened her eyes. What Nadir wanted didn’t affect her life. She wasn’t going to stay married long enough for him to take her interests away from her.

“I must say you surprised me.”

Zoe looked at the tall and slender woman who was now sitting next to her—her cousin Fatimah. Zoe clenched her teeth as she braced herself for what she was sure would be a few unpleasant moments.

Fatimah wore a shimmering green gown. Heavy gold jewelry dripped from her ears, throat and wrists. She always made a glamorous and dramatic impact wherever she went.

“I didn’t think you would do it,” Fatimah told Zoe in a breezy, chatty tone. “I know how you Americans believe in love matches.”

Zoe didn’t respond. She had never liked her cousin, and they weren’t friends. Fatimah would not form an alliance with an outcast like Zoe. Instead, she preferred to feel powerful by preying on the defenseless, and Zoe had seen her in all her destructive glory. Now she noted the dark look in her cousin’s eyes. Fatimah was on the prowl for trouble and had found her target.

Her cousin bestowed a tight smile upon her. “I can’t wait to tell Musad.”

Zoe did her best not to flinch. “Please do.”

She hoped she was getting better at not reacting to his name. Musad had once represented a fragile yet blossoming love in a world of quicksand filled with hate and indifference. Now his name reminded her that no man could be trusted.

“What should I tell our old friend?” Fatimah asked as she studied Zoe’s face closely. “Shall I send him your love?”

Zoe shrugged, refusing to let the word “love” pierce her wrung-out heart. Musad had ceased to matter a year ago, when he’d moved to America without a backward glance. She had filed him under “lesson learned.”

Zoe leaned back in her chair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Tell him what you want.”

Fatimah rested her hand on Zoe’s arm and leaned forward to whisper, “How can you say that, considering how close you were?”

Zoe felt the blood leaving her face as icy fear seeped in her veins. Fatimah knew. She saw it in the malicious glow of the woman’s eyes. Somehow Fatimah knew about her forbidden liaison with Musad. She was the one who’d started the rumors that were beginning to percolate in village gossip.

Zoe had to get away. She had to silence Fatimah. If she breathed a word of this to her family … to the Sheikh …

“Zoe?”

Zoe looked up to see her aunts and other female cousins. They were smiling. Real smiles. It was unlikely that they had heard Fatimah’s accusation. Zoe wanted to sag with relief.

“Come, Zoe.” One of her cousins unceremoniously pulled her from her chair and her female relatives surrounded her. “It’s time to prepare you for your wedding night.”

Her wedding night. Her stomach twisted sharply and she battled back nausea. Her aunts smiled and giggled as they swept her out of the courtyard and up to the honeymoon suite. She hunched her shoulders as corroding fear, thick and searing hot, bled through her body. It pooled under her skin, pressing harder and harder, threatening to burst through.

It suddenly sank into her. She belonged to the Sheikh. A man they called The Beast. She was married to him. Married.

Her married cousins were offering words of advice, telling her how to please her husband, but Zoe didn’t hear a word of it. There was a desperate energy among the women. Their laughter was a little shrill, their advice raw and uncoated.

Zoe didn’t resist as the women settled her in the center of the bed. She knelt on the mattress, her hands folded in front of her, her head bent down. She wanted to jump out of bed and run, but she knew these women would bring her back and guard the bedroom.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, jagged breath. She heard the women leaving the room, their laughter harsh as they tossed her more marital advice. She had always thought her wedding day would be different. In her daydreams it had been full of laughter and joy, not to mention love.

The reality was much bleaker. Zoe slowly opened her eyes. She was marrying because she was out of options and running out of luck. She was taking a leap of faith, believing she could use this marriage to her advantage. But she might have given up more than her freedom to a man who was a dangerous stranger.

What had she done?

Pure terror clamped her chest. She felt the room closing in on her as she tried to gulp in the hot air. Dark spots danced before her eyes.

“I can’t do this. I can’t sleep with him,” Zoe said aloud. She thought she was alone until Fatimah answered.

“He’s required to consummate the marriage,” her cousin said as she straightened Zoe’s skirt, making it a smooth circle on the bed. “Otherwise it’s not acknowledged.”

“Required?” Zoe’s stomach gave a sickening twist. That sounded so clinical. So unromantic.

Fatimah cast an annoyed look in her direction. “That’s why you have the last ceremony on the third day. It’s based on an ancient law to celebrate the consummation of the marriage.”

Zoe’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“And if you aren’t to his liking,” Fatimah said, giving her a sidelong look, “he can throw you back.”

Zoe frowned. “Throw me back? You mean back to your family? No, he can’t. Nice try, Fatimah, but I’m not falling for another one of your lies.”

“I’m not lying,” Fatimah swore, flattening her hand against her chest. “The Sheikh did that to his first wife.”

First wife? Zoe drew back her head and stared at her cousin as surprise tingled down her spine. What first wife? “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Fatimah’s face brightened when she realized she would get to reveal all. “Two years ago the Sheikh was married to the daughter of one of the finest families in the tribe. Yusra. You remember her?”

“Barely.” Yusra had been drop-dead gorgeous, ultra feminine and the perfect Jazaari girl. Zoe had privately thought Yusra was a spoiled brat and a bit of snob. She had been glad when her family left the village.

“It was a fabulous ceremony. Unlike any I’ve ever seen. Don’t you remember it? It was better than yours.”

“I probably wasn’t invited.” She was an outcast. She was either ignored or bullied. Any member of the tribe could publicly humiliate her without consequence. They all knew her uncle wouldn’t protect her. They had all witnessed the treatment she’d received under his cruel hand and followed his lead.

“Well, the third day of the ceremony had barely started when he tossed Yusra back to her parents.” Fatimah gave a flick of her wrist, the jangle of gold bracelets loud to Zoe’s ears. “In front of the entire tribe. He said she was not to his liking.”

If he’d had a problem with his first choice of a wife, he was definitely not going to be pleased with her. “He had sex with her and then dumped her? Can he do that?”

“It caused a huge scandal. How is it you don’t know any of this? You were living here when it happened.”

Zoe probably had heard about it but thought it one of those “bonfire stories.” She had heard plenty of folk tales that were designed to scare boys and girls into behaving properly.

She was in so much trouble. Her knees wobbled as a wave of fear crashed over her. If she didn’t have sex with the Sheikh he would send her back to her family. If she did have sex with him she might well have had the same problem. “So basically this ancient law is a return policy?”

“It’s rarely used. A man has to have a very good reason to invoke it. Unless you’re a sheikh, of course. Then no one will question your actions.”

“But—”

One of Zoe’s aunts peeked inside the room. “Fatimah, what are you still doing here?” the woman said in a fierce whisper. “The Sheikh is coming.”

“Good luck, Zoe,” Fatimah said with a sly smile as she slipped out of the room. “I hope you can satisfy the Sheikh better than his last bride.”

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT was she going to do? Zoe glanced wildly at the open windows and the colorful gauzy curtains fluttering in the breeze. No, she couldn’t escape that way.

Even if she got out safely she had no place to hide. She had learned that over the years, after her failed attempts to run away. No one would provide her with sanctuary and the desert was a deathtrap. She had barely survived the last time.

She was trapped and she needed to come up with a plan. Zoe squeezed her eyes shut as the panic swelled in her chest. Think, think, think!

Her mind was locked on only one thing: chastity was highly prized in a woman, and she wasn’t a virgin.

The tribe had very strict rules about sex outside marriage. The men were punished, but not as harshly as the women. Zoe tried to block out the memory of the scars her female patients had from being caned and whipped.

A man like the Sheikh would demand an untouched bride. Zoe’s stomach cramped with panic. She had known that before she accepted the arrangement, but had thought she would be safe once the marriage contract was signed. It had been a risk, and it had backfired.

The door opened and Zoe went still, her breath lodging in her throat. She heard the guests offering their best wishes over the jubilant music. The jumble of noise scraped against her taut nerves. She wanted to scream, to bolt, to break down and cry, but she carefully lowered her head and clasped her hands tightly.

She flinched violently when the door closed and Zoe winced at her response. She needed to please the Sheikh, not offend him.

“Would you like a drink, Zoe?” he asked softly as he slipped off his shoes next to the door.

She wordlessly shook her head. Her mouth was dry, her throat ached, and she wished there was alcohol to numb her senses. But she didn’t think she could accept a drop without choking.

How was she going to get through the night? Maybe he wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t a virgin? Her head ached as she tried to plan. Perhaps she could fake her virginity? She wasn’t sure if she could get away with that strategy. From what she had heard about her husband he was very experienced, with an insatiable sex-drive.

She heard his cloak fall to the ground. Something soft followed. Zoe couldn’t help but look, and discovered the Sheikh had removed his headdress. His hair was short, thick and black.

He didn’t seem any less intimating. If anything, her husband appeared even harder, more ruthless. His profile was strong and aggressive. Power came off him in waves. She was aware that this was a man in his prime.

Zoe pulled her gaze away and stared at her hands. What was wrong with her? She was not interested in the Sheikh. He could become an obstacle to her dreams of returning home.

“It was a good ceremony,” the Sheikh said, his voice closer. “Short. My favorite kind.”

Zoe nodded again, although she thought the ceremony had been miserably long. However, she hadn’t shown up late. Not that she would point it out.

But this night was going to be endless. How was she going to prevent the fallout that was sure to come? Maybe she should fake modesty so he could never get close enough to finding out if she was a virgin or not. After all, what man would admit he’d failed to bed his wife on their wedding night?

Or she could pretend to faint dead away at the sight of him without a shirt. Zoe bit her bottom lip as she considered the merit of the idea. Or she could cry. A lot. For two solid days and nights. Men couldn’t stand being around a woman in tears.

Although the Sheikh might be different. He was probably used to women trembling and crying in his presence.

She heard his footsteps approaching the bed. Zoe took a gulp of air but it fizzled in her throat. She heard the faint chime of metal and discovered her bracelets clinking against each other as her arms and hands shook.

“Zoe?”

She stilled when she heard his voice. The chiming ceased. The Sheikh was right next to her. She felt vulnerable with her head down, but she was trying to be a good Jazaari bride. It was difficult pretending to be meek when she preferred to face trouble head-on.

She decided to follow her original plan. She wouldn’t run away but she wouldn’t sleep with the Sheikh. Fatimah was trying to play mind games again. She wouldn’t fall for it. All she needed to do tonight was keep her husband at a distance. Play the reluctant and timid bride until they left for their honeymoon. Once they were out of Jazaar she could make her escape.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment already?” He sounded amused. “We haven’t been married for more than a day.”

Silent treatment? She had never been accused of that before. Her problem had always been speaking her mind. “I’m nervous, Your Highness,” she replied, hating how her voice cracked.

“You may call me Nadir. And you don’t have to be nervous with me.”

Of course she did. He had the power to destroy her life or, unwittingly, help her to create a new one. She gave a tilt of her head to show that she understood him, and immediately tensed when he knelt on the mattress in front of her.

The bed suddenly felt smaller. She felt smaller as Nadir towered over her. Zoe kept her eyes firmly on her fists that rested on her lap. She watched cautiously as he reached for her hand. She jerked when she felt a hot spark between them as his skin touched hers.

Nadir’s hand was dark and large against hers. Zoe felt his latent strength as he gently uncurled her fingers. She watched as he quietly slid the stack of bangles from her wrists and over her hand. She noticed how much lighter her arms felt as the bracelets fell onto the floor.

Once he’d removed her bracelets Nadir lazily traced the henna pattern on her hand with a fingertip. Her skin tingled as the pulse skittered in her wrist. Zoe was tempted to pull away.

“Your veil looks heavy,” Nadir said softly.

He had no idea. “Yes.”

Nadir skimmed the top of her head with his hands. Zoe’s muscles tightened as she fought the urge to bolt. His gentle touch felt like a silent claim that she didn’t want to accept or obey. She wanted to retreat. Brush his hands aside. Get away from the bed. Her skin prickled, heat sizzling through her blood as she struggled to remain still.

She heard the beat of her heart mingled with her short, choppy breaths. She felt Nadir guide his hands along the jeweled edge of her veil. He located the hairpins anchoring the veil and slid them free. Tossing the pins onto the floor, he glided the veil off her head and let it fall behind her.

She immediately felt its loss. While Zoe was grateful to shed the weight, the veil had allowed her to hide. She no longer had that luxury.

She kept her head down as Nadir threaded his fingers through her long brown hair. She couldn’t tell if he was fascinated or disappointed by the unusual shade.

“Look at me, Zoe.”

Her pulse gave a hard skip. She wasn’t ready to look at him. With more courage than she’d thought she possessed, she slowly, jerkily, raised her head to meet Nadir’s gaze.

Heat bloomed inside her when she saw the desire in his eyes. He lowered his head and her eyelashes fluttered. Zoe knew she should turn away but she remained motionless. She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed when she felt his lips brush along her forehead.

Her lips stung with anticipation as Nadir skimmed his mouth along her cheek. His warm breath wafted over her skin before he placed a trail of soft kisses on her jawline. His hands were tangled in the mass of her hair, and she felt his fingers tighten when she gave a small sigh of pleasure.

Zoe leaned in closer and immediately stopped. She’d almost given herself away. She was supposed to be a bashful virginal bride. She needed to shy away, not participate!

Why was she responding so eagerly? She shouldn’t soften from a few tender caresses. Was her body greedy for a man’s touch because it had been so long? Or did Nadir know how to touch a woman and make her forget her best intentions?

She wasn’t going to fall for this. Obviously he wanted her to become used to his touch. He wanted her to welcome his advances and not see him as a threat.

It was too late. Nadir had been a threat from the moment he touched her. She didn’t think she had ever longed for a man’s touch, hungered for a kiss, as much as she did at this moment.

Her defenses couldn’t crumble. She would not let him get too close. Her future depended on it.

Nadir cradled her face with his hands and covered her mouth with his.

Wild desire exploded inside her. It rushed through her veins and she melted against him. She had never been kissed like this before. Nadir’s kiss claimed. Dominated.

She couldn’t surrender to him. She couldn’t let him find out the truth about her. Zoe knew she shouldn’t let this seduction continue, but somehow she parted her lips and allowed him to thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She returned the kiss and was instantly swept away.

Sensations overwhelmed her and she clung to Nadir’s shoulders. Her hands crushed the luxurious fabric of his dishdasha and she drew him closer. She wanted more, so much more.

Zoe ignored her growing sense of alarm until she heard Nadir’s groan. She couldn’t tame the instant attraction that had flared between them. Nadir was too sensual, too dangerous. She broke the kiss and turned her head away swiftly.

She felt Nadir shudder as he tried to harness his emotions and knew she was pressing her luck. The last thing she wanted to do was frustrate him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she looked away.

Zoe pressed her fingertips against her swollen lips. Her breasts felt heavy and there was a delicious ache low in her belly. She had to get out of this bed. Now.

As she battled back the hunger Zoe realized she had not anticipated this fatal flaw in her plan. She’d never thought she would desire the Sheikh. That he would tempt her to throw caution to the wind.

She had to be careful. This was becoming a very dangerous game. She had to hide her shameful attraction and she could not act on it. Under no circumstances could she allow him to get any closer. No more kissing!

“It’s all right,” he murmured. He slowly kissed down the length of her throat. “I want you to kiss me back.”

That was the problem: she wanted to do more than kiss. Only she had to appear untutored and modest, Zoe reminded herself as Nadir removed her necklaces one by one. And when she kissed him she felt untamed. How did he have that much power over her responses?

She felt his hands travel down her spine and her top sagged open. Zoe’s heart lurched. He had found the fasteners hidden under the beading in the back. This wedding night had gone further than she wanted and she wasn’t sure how to stop it. Nadir pushed her top down her shoulders, revealing a thin white chemise.

She felt his heated gaze on her. She shivered as a dangerous excitement swept along her body, but she knew she should be feeling exposed and uncertain. What would a virgin do? Zoe belatedly crossed her arms to hide herself, but Nadir grasped her wrists.

“Don’t,” he ordered in a gruff voice. He lowered her arms. “Never hide yourself for me. You are beautiful.”

Zoe wanted to believe that the compliment fell automatically from Nadir’s lips, that he said it to all his lovers, but she felt beautiful. Desirable. Wanted. She hadn’t felt like that for a long time. She had to be very careful and not follow her instincts, but the blood was roaring in her veins.

Nadir dipped his head and captured her mouth with his. This time he wasn’t as gentle. She fed off his aggression. His kiss was hard and hungry. He couldn’t hide how much he wanted and needed her.

Heat swirled inside her. She was caught up in the kiss as he slowly lowered her. She speared her hands into his thick hair as he laid her on the bed. She’d accept one more kiss and then she’ll pull away. One more …

She didn’t protest when Nadir stripped her heavy skirt from her hips. He tore his mouth from hers and knelt back. She watched dazedly as he yanked off his dishdasha and tossed it on the floor.

Zoe gasped when she saw his golden brown skin and muscular physique. Okay, new rule, she decided frantically. No more taking off clothes. This was as far as they could go.

Without thinking she reached out and stroked his chest. She rubbed her fingertips in the sprinkle of coarse hair. She enjoyed the rasp of friction and imagined his chest, hot and sweaty, pressed against her soft breast.

She bucked her hips as the ache in her pelvis intensified. Uh-oh. She shouldn’t have done that. Had Nadir read anything from that shameless move?

Zoe hesitated, her chest rising and falling. She needed to hide her bold responses—a virgin would be shy and uncertain. She couldn’t let Nadir know how much she enjoyed exploring his body.

“Touch me again,” Nadir said in a hoarse whisper. “Touch me as much as you want.”

He shouldn’t give her that kind of encouragement. If she touched him as much as she wanted she would not stop touching him. She would touch this legendary playboy in ways that would shock him.

But she shouldn’t refuse him. Okay, revised new rule. She wouldn’t go past his chest. That was safe. Zoe splayed her fingers and caressed his arms and shoulders. She smoothed her hands along his back before trailing her fingers back to his chest.

Nadir’s muscles bunched as she scored his nipple with her fingernail. She hid her smile as a sense of power poured over her. She drew her hands down to his rock-hard abdomen before she reached the waistband of his white boxer shorts.

There must be something in her eyes. Something that gave away how she felt. She saw Nadir’s expression tighten and the fire glow in his eyes before he swooped down and claimed her mouth again. The long, wet kiss took her breath away.

She didn’t mean to part her thighs when he nestled his hips between her legs. Zoe knew he was trying to go slow and she didn’t think she could slow him down further. His muscles shook with restraint as he caressed the length of her leg.