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
