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“And that includes kidnapping one’s bride?”
“Most definitely.”
“I don’t see how kidnapping a woman can ever be justified. Women are not objects, not property.”
“Only princes and kings, members of the royal family, kidnap a young woman for marriage.”
“That’s even worse.”
He shook his head. “The custom of kidnapping one’s bride goes back a thousand years. It helps protect one’s family and society by strengthening tribal relations, forging bonds between rival tribes, protecting one’s women and children from nomad tribes that might seek to prey on vulnerable tribes.”
“I’m sorry. I still can’t wrap my head around the custom.”
“Many of Saidia’s young people joke about the ancient customs when attending university, but if you asked them if forced marriages and arranged marriages should be banned, not one of them would vote to have them outlawed. It’s part of our history. It’s a big part of our cultural identity.”
“So not all Saidia citizens have an arranged marriage?”
“About half of our young people in the urban areas choose a love marriage. If you move away from the big cities, nearly everyone prefers arranged marriages.”
“Why the difference?”
He shrugged. “In the desert, people strongly identify with their tribe and tribal customs. You don’t have the influence of technology. Towns are remote. Travel is difficult and change is viewed with suspicion. When you come to Haslam or the other desert communities south of the Takti Mountains, it’s like traveling back in time. Haslam isn’t the city capitol. The desert isn’t urban. And I, as the king, must be sensitive to the new and old faces of my country. I can’t alienate the youth in the city, but I must also respect the youth in the desert.”
“They don’t both want the same thing?”
“They don’t want the same thing, nor do they understand each other. It’s been a struggle for us, in terms of keeping Saidia connected. When our students are ten, we try to encourage the children to do an exchange; children from the desert leaving home to spend a week in the city with a host family, and the children in the city to go to the desert for a week. It used to be mandated but that became problematic. We still want children to participate, but our city children are bored by the desert and the lack of entertainment, and the children from the desert are overwhelmed by the city noise, pollution, and frenetic activity.”
“So what do you do?”
“Try to respect both aspects of the Saidia culture, and be careful not to alienate either.”
“It’s a balancing act,” she said.
“Absolutely.” He studied her a long moment, his gaze slowly sweeping from her face down to her shoulders and then breasts. “I don’t want to see you in those clothes anymore. I have provided you with a wardrobe, a more suitable wardrobe for the climate, the Kasbah, and our honeymoon.”
Jemma had just begun to relax, forgetting her own situation having been pleasantly distracted by the discussion, but suddenly reality came crashing back. She tensed, flushed, angered as well as frustrated. “Is that a request or a command, Your Highness?”
“Both.”
“It can’t be both. It’s either one or the other.”
He gave his dark head a shake. “There you go again, making it difficult. You don’t need to resist so much.”
“Oh, I do. I most certainly do. I’m not a doll, or a mindless puppet. I’m an adult, a woman, and very independent. I’ve been on my own, and paying my own bills, since I was eighteen. I value my independence, too.”
“I appreciate spirit, but there is a difference between spark, stubbornness and plain stupidity.” He lifted his hand to stop her before she could speak. “And no, I’m not saying you are stupid. But right now you’re stubborn. If the stubbornness continues too much longer, then yes, you’ve moved into stupidity.”
Her cheeks burned. Her temper blazed. “I could say the same for you. You are equally stubborn in your refusal to see me for who I am.”
“I see exactly who you are.”
“A criminal Copeland!”
“No.” He leaned forward, his dark gaze boring into her. “My wife.”
Something in his words and fierce, intense gaze stripped her of speech and the ability to think.
For a moment she simply sat there, dazed, and breathless.
“You are going to experience culture shock,” he said firmly, “but I fully expect you to adjust. We will be here until you adjust. So instead of arguing with me about everything, I think it is time you tried to be more open minded about this, us, and marriage to a Saidia king.”
“I’m trying.”
“No, I don’t think you are, not yet. But I have all day. We have all day. We have all night. We have weeks, actually.”
Her lips pressed firm. She glanced away, studying the exotic pink and blue mosaic tile work on the inside of the pavilion. The tiles were beautiful, the colors gorgeous, and unabashedly romantic. The remote Kasbah would have been extremely romantic if she were here, with someone else. Someone like Damien.
She still loved him.
Or maybe, she still loved who she thought he had been. Loving, strong, protective.
Turned out he wasn’t so loving. Or protective. His strength was an illusion...all beautiful body and muscle but no core. No spine. No backbone, at least not when it was needed.
“You’re not going to cry, are you?” Mikael asked, a hint of roughness in his deep voice.
She shook her head hard. “No.”
“You’re looking very sad at the moment. Thoroughly crushed. Don’t tell me that twelve hours of marriage to me has broken you already.”
Jemma jerked her chin up. “Not crushed, or broken. Nor will I be. I won’t give any man that kind of power over me.”
“Not even that pretty model ex-boyfriend of yours?”
Jemma stifled a gasp. So Mikael had done his research then, and discovered her humiliation at the hands of Damien. She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Especially not him.”
“Mmm.” But Mikael didn’t sound as if he believed her.
“Damien hurt me, but he didn’t break me. And my father hurt me, but he didn’t break me. And you, Sheikh Karim, might intimidate me, and bully me, but you will not break me, either.”
“I do not bully you.”
“Oh yes, you do. At least, you try to.”
He leaned farther back into the pillows surrounding the low table. The corner of his mouth curved. “You really aren’t afraid of me?”
“Why should I be afraid? You’re Drakon’s friend. You came to his wedding. You saved me from seven years of jail.”
He must have heard the ironic note in her voice because the corners of his mouth quirked, and that faint lift of his lips made her heart suddenly do a strange double thump.
The man was extremely intimidating, and yet when he smiled, even this faint half-smile, he became dangerously attractive.
“Ah, yes, I saved you from jail. And you, my queen, are so very grateful.”
She didn’t miss his sarcasm. “I would have been more grateful if you’d put me on a plane back to London. That would have been nice.”
“Indeed, it would have been. But terribly weak on my part. A man must have morals, and principles, and a king even more so.”
She stood up and paced restlessly around the pavilion. She knew he watched her. She glanced at him and saw the same, faint smile playing at his lips, eyes gleaming. He seemed amused or entertained. Maybe both. “You’re in a good mood,” she said, facing him from across the pavilion.
“Would you prefer it if I were in a bad mood?”
Jemma didn’t need to think about that one too much. “No, but surely you didn’t anticipate taking a Copeland daughter for your wife?”
“That is correct. But you are easy to look at, and I am quite certain, a pleasure to hold.”
“That sounds terribly shallow.”
His broad shoulders shifted. “It’s not a love match. I don’t have to like you, or love you. I just need you, as my first wife, to be good, obedient and fertile.”
She stiffened and looked at him askance. First wife? There would be others? “Multiple wives, Your Highness?”
“Traditional Islamic law allows men four wives, but a man must be able to treat them equally. And not all men choose to have multiple wives. It’s really an individual decision.”
She couldn’t help laughing. It struck her as terribly wrong, and yet also, terribly funny. This wasn’t her life. This couldn’t be happening. He might as well have plucked her from the photo shoot and locked her in his harem. “Do you intend to take more wives?”
“I haven’t thought that far, but my father had four wives. My grandfather, his father, just had two.”
