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He balled his hands up into fists at his side, trying to restrain the urge to blow past her. “I have only a bit longer before the Imam is going to start with the vows. I need to get ready.”’
“So you have time to speak with your father but not with me?” she asked, feigning hurt.
“Mother—”
“Bahan, you have disappointed me.”
“We’ve covered that already,” he said. “I’ve disappointed you, disgraced the Munir name and the kingdom. I’ve chosen a Western harlot…”
“A literal wild woman.”
“Yes, let’s make fun of her name and abuse all the puns that we can.”
“I just want you to know that I’m so very disappointed in you.”
“I know, and I continue to know that. You should at least admit that part of this was Fareed’s idea.”
“Oh I’ve had words for your brother, too. I just can’t believe you’ve brought such shame already to our kingdom.”
“Then, Mother, I suggest you adjust to the new normal,” he said through clenched teeth as he rushed out of the conference room and back to Sydney’s room.
***
The ceremony was simple. Part of her had always wanted to have a wedding with the poof princess dress, that silly thing that she’d imagined since she was in high school. Granted, she tried not to be the overly girly type. Ever since her father had left, Jennifer hadn’t been able to afford daydreams or anything else. But like every other woman, she’d imagined her big day with her fiancé as Prince Charming and her as Cinderella. That didn’t seem like too much to ask.
But this wasn’t a real wedding. Even though Bahan and she had continued to date in the interim, even if he did things to her that made her toes curl on a regular basis, this was all happening too fast. It was for Sydney and for his kingdom. It wasn’t about true love and fairy tales.
So she grieved a bit over that, even on her big day.
Her dress was simple, a plain crushed velvet dress in an icy blue. She’d chosen a color that wasn’t white both because she knew the actual sheikha was wearing ivory and didn’t want to compete with royalty, and because this wasn’t for forever. When she got married to her soul mate, she wanted it to be with pure white, to have that bit of tradition left untouched.
Today, at least, the ceremony had its benefits. She still had the butterflies buzzing in her stomach, especially as she thought about the coming night and the surprise honeymoon that Bahan was promising her. The greatest joy was seeing the light in Sydney’s eyes. Bahan, bless him, had hired a makeup artist and hairstylist just for Sydney, to make her feel like a special part of the festivities, even if she was still relegated to a hospital gown in all its polka-dotted glory. Seeing her smile and coo over the wedding was definitely worth it. In case the surgery didn’t go to plan, in case the kidney didn’t take, then at least they’d all have this memory of the wedding and of Sydney getting to shine as the maid of honor.
It meant the world to her how caring Bahan was with her little sister, as well as how he’d bent over backwards to try and alleviate her fears as well as her mother’s.
This was moving all so fast, but she couldn’t ask for a better husband.
Which made all of this more insane.
When Bahan and his mother entered the hospital room, and the Imam started in with the chants of the mosque, she couldn’t help but smile. For today it was real, and that had to matter.
“Hey, usually it’s everyone waiting on pins and needles for the bride,” she joked.
“Usually, but I don’t do anything like everyone else does. What would be the fun in that?” Bahan said, flashing her a megawatt smile and staring back at her with those intense amber eyes of his.
His mother’s face grew pinched at the boasting, but she didn’t say anything.
For that, Jennifer was grateful. The sheikha hadn’t said much to her yet, but she wasn’t dumb. She could tell that Bahan’s mother wasn’t thrilled with the arrangements.
The Imam started to speak as Bahan took her arm. Over her shoulder, Fareed, her new brother-in-law, translated everything for her, but she didn’t need it. She could feel the importance echoing through the room—the old traditions. Grabbing Bahan’s hand tightly, she repeated back what she had to both in Arabic (pronounced phonetically for her by a patient Fareed) and in English, vowing to be the sheikha he needed at least as long as she could.
It burned a huge part of her soul, however, that it wasn’t going to be forever.
Chapter Seven
“I’ve never seen anything like this!” his wild one exclaimed, grinning broadly at the private jet that would be taking them to Paris.
He hadn’t told her about it yet, but it would only be for the weekend. If anything changed with Sydney’s health, they could be back in six or seven hours. Still, Bahan had been hesitant to tell her the exact whereabouts, in case Jennifer would argue. As far as she knew, they were going to a mystery destination, and if she assumed it was just a hop to Los Angeles or Chicago, then he wasn’t going to disabuse her of her assumptions. Besides, the sickness had been weighing on her. He wanted to give her a chance to relax, at least for a while. It was also why he’d negotiated quite vociferously with her boss, Kahn, to make sure she had some leave during her family’s trying time. The fact that the ass had been hesitant at first made Bahan’s blood boil. If he could, he’d tell Jennifer that she no longer needed to work, that he’d care for all of her needs as his sheikha.
