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“I—“
“Jamal might already have planted his seed inside you,” her dad interjected.
“Unlikely,” Jamal said, his shrewd eyes swinging back and forth between father and daughter. “We didn’t get that far.”
Her father exhaled and pointed to the splotch of blood on the sheets. “I think it’s fair to say you went far enough.” He rubbed his hands together. “We’ll bring the wedding forward. I’m sure Sheikh Arif will understand.”
“I’m sure he will,” Jamal acknowledged with a dry smile. “As much as he covets my lands I have far more wealth than he does, not to mention powerful allies. That he will now also covet my soon-to-be wife will be just another thorn in his side he will have to learn to live with.”
“Then it’s decided. Welcome to the family, Sheikh Jamal Qadir,” her father announced loudly, proffering his hand. “I look forward to a whole posse of grandsons.”
Jamal held Yasmine’s gaze. “And at least one daughter who looks just like her mother.”
She resisted stamping her feet and shouting there was more to her than a fertile womb. Instead she pasted a smile on her face.Be careful what you wish for.She had a sudden feeling things wouldn’t go her way quite as easily from here on in.
Chapter Three
Jamal resisted an urge to stride—sprint!—out of the bedroom suite and away from the woman who’d just trapped him into joining her family.Fuck.What had possessed him to give in so easily? Was it the disturbing slap Yasmine’s father had delivered to his daughter?
Jamal abhorred violence against women.
He’d seen enough of that with his father and the mistreatment of his two wives. The only good thing to have come out of his dad’s second marriage was Jamal’s half-brother, Dhamar. Not that they saw each other often these days, with their mothers having to be separated into different palaces to keep the peace.
Since their father’s death three years ago from a boating accident, Jamal had taken on leadership of Ishmat while Dhamar had been busy running his mother’s native homeland of Chawait. His lips twisted. What would Dhamar say when he found out his older, playboy brother was getting married?
Jamal was going to have to make some adjustments. Not only would he need to extend his stay here in Amack to announce his engagement and its accompanying celebrations, he’d need to make arrangements for their wedding at Ishmat.
Don’t forget about the ballroom you’ll need to build.
He smiled. Hamid, one of his best friends, had made a bet with Jamal and their two other close sheikh friends, Mahindar and Fayez, that if any of them fell in love and married they’d build a grand ballroom to celebrate the event. They’d all stupidly agreed.
It seemed no sooner had Hamid’s suggestion been put out into the universe, it had come after each of them, one at a time.
Fayez was next. Though no one doubted for a second he was already halfway in love with his mistress, Jazmina. How long it’d take before Fayez would admit it was another thing entirely.
Jamal smiled grimly. He had enough on his plate without worrying about Fayez. He had no doubt his future wife would keep him on his toes.
His dick twitched, and he stifled a curse at the aching heaviness of his balls. He owed it to Yasmine to marry her. That she’d been a virgin meant he had no other choice but to do the right thing by her. Only a man without honor, scruples or pride would do otherwise.
That she’d tricked him into marriage gave every indication thatshehad no honor, scruples or pride. But a part of him didn’t blame her. They lived in a man’s world, at least in his culture—his western education had shown him that. And as a sheikha Yasmine would have even less rights.
If he’d been in her shoes having to marry Sheikh Arif, he too would have been desperate enough to find a way out of it. The man was a pig. That Yasmine’s father had been prepared to hand her over to a known despot spoke volumes about the kind of person Jamal was about to do trade with.
If it wasn’t that he’d soon be marrying Zameer’s daughter he’d think twice about their trade deal now. It was why he’d never had business relations with Arif. The man was a monster, and Zameer clearly wasn’t a whole lot better to give his only daughter to Arif in the name of financial security.
“Get dressed,” Zameer snapped to his daughter. “You’ll be sleeping under lock and key tonight and every night until your marriage.”
As her dad went to spin around and return to the woman waiting in the doorway with sharp eyes and too much makeup, Jamal reached out and clapped his hand around the older man’s wrist. Only when Zameer turned wide, disbelieving eyes toward him, did Jamal state calmly, “I expect Yasmine to be treated with the respect she deserves as a sheikha and my soon-to-be wife. Is that clear?”
Zameer’s nostrils flared and his lips flattened. He was obviously not used to someone else issuing commands. But though defiance was briefly stamped onto every hard line of his face, he released a long, low sigh and slumped. “Of course.”
That color rose in Yasmine’s cheeks, her posture stiff and unyielding, and her cornflower blue eyes wide, revealed much about her past and present. But then she’d likely dealt with her father’s abuse many times.
It was beyond Jamal’s comprehension why that left his heartbeat pounding and his ears roaring. All he knew for sure was that he’d protect Yasmine, now and in the future, with everything he had. Focusing on Zameer, he stated quietly, “No one touches her from now on except me.”
There was no mistaking the undercurrents of malice and warning in his voice, and Zameer took a jerky step back the moment Jamal released his wrist.
Zameer nodded. “You have my word.”
