Maisey Yates - Midnight on the Sands - Hajar's Hidden Legacy / To Touch a Sheikh / Her Sheikh Protector

She could do something else. Be someone else.

Her pulse pounded in her temples. She hadn’t really let herself hope for that outcome. That her marriage to Zahir really could be nothing more than paper. A paper easily destroyed later.

“A legal marriage only,” he said, his voice hard.

“So much the better,” she said, trying to keep the relief from showing through in her tone. “We can both go our separate ways later. And this way we preserve the peace between our nations.” She started pacing, nervous energy demanding that she find a way to relieve it. “And when we do separate it will be amicable, naturally, so the link between Austrich and Hajar will remain strong.”

Zahir turned his head slightly and she realized he was tracking her movements that way. She’d forgotten about his sight for a moment. Or at least the issue she’d assumed he had with his sight. She truly didn’t know for sure.

“It must look real,” he said.

She inclined her head. “Of course it must, if not like a love match, then like a permanent marriage. To my father, to John, to Alexander. None of them can know.”

His upper lip curled slightly. “My people cannot know.”

She realized then that it was a matter of his pride. She felt a slight pang in her chest. This would cost him, this man who lived in the shadows. But she couldn’t even contemplate what the consequences would be if she didn’t pull this off.

“No one,” she said, her pledge to him.

“You will remain here.”

“What?”

“What did you imagine would happen?”

“I had thought … my father is ill. I had thought to return home.”

“Ah, and you do not think anyone will see that as strange? That my new wife has abandoned me?” He reached out and curled his fingers around her arm, just above her elbow, his black eyes burning into hers even as her flesh felt branded by his touch. “No one will know.”

She explored his face visually for a moment. The ravaged skin, the slashing scar that interrupted the shape of his top lip. He could not be called handsome, not now. But he was compelling, fierce. And for a moment she was almost overcome by the desire to skim her fingers over his ruined cheek, to feel the damage for herself.

She clenched her hand into a fist and kept it glued to her side. “You have my word, Sheikh Zahir.”

“As tradition dictates, you will stay here in the palace to cement the engagement,” he said. She could tell that cost him. That he truly didn’t want her here. She also knew that he wanted to keep up appearances.

She swallowed hard, feeling as though a judge had just lowered the gavel, sentencing her. At least it’s not a life sentence .

“I will stay.” It took every ounce of strength she had to speak, to not shrink away.

But she would use every shred of it that she had in her body to get through this. To see her country—her brother—through. To the other side. For freedom for her people. A new kind of freedom for herself. One where duty to the masses wasn’t so much more important than living her own life.

It was a dream. And yet it was a dream that kept her going. That spurred her on now. She would rest later. She would have the chance to, something she’d not thought possible.

“I was planning on staying,” she said. “For a while at least.”

“I know, I saw your procession of belongings coming in earlier.”

“It was too important. I wasn’t going to back down.”

“Why is it so important to you? Why are you the one who has to solve this? A matter of honor?” He regarded her closely, and she knew he truly wanted an answer.

“What would you do to ensure Malik’s success, Zahir? If he lived, what would you do to make sure that he was able to fulfill his destiny? To make sure he was safe?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed and she watched as his hands, both marred with scar tissue, flexed into fists. “Anything. I would give my life.”

“As I’m giving mine.”

He tilted his face up, angling the smooth side to her. “So noble of you.” She was struck again by how beautiful he was in part. By how handsome he had been. The reminder was there. That square masculine jaw, perfect olive skin. There was no light in his eyes though, no emotion to read.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Modesty does not become the sort of woman who would storm the palace of Hajar and take up residence without permission,” he said. And for a moment she thought she saw one side of his mouth curve upward. An expression of good humor. Although, that couldn’t be. It really didn’t seem possible.

“My apologies.”

“One thing you must understand, latifa . The palace runs in a certain order, I do things on a certain schedule. You will not interrupt that.”

No. Of course not. She wasn’t important enough to interrupt the Almighty Schedule. Though, why that should bother her at all, she wasn’t sure. Yes, she was. Common courtesy. She wouldn’t say that to a regular palace guest, let alone one she was engaged to be married to. Even if it was going to be strictly a legal marriage.

“It’s a big palace,” she said. “I’ll bet you can avoid me altogether if you like.”

“A theory I am tempted to test.”

“If we’re going to pretend this is real you’re going to have to work on treating me as though you want me around.”

He leaned in and she pulled away slightly. His masculine scent teased her, made her heart accelerate. He had a scent all his own. Sandalwood and spice mingled with the musky, unique essence of Zahir. It made her head feel fuzzy.

“And you are going to have to pretend you aren’t repulsed by me.”

“I’m not,” she said. It was the truth. He was scarred but all the nonsense about him being a beast, somehow something other than a man, that was just plain ridiculous. “I won’t lie and say I’m completely comfortable with you, but by the time we have an engagement party … “

“There will be no engagement party.” The light in his dark eyes was fierce, almost wild.

“There has to be,” she said. “It is tradition for brides in Austrich to … “

“You are in Hajar now,” he said, his voice hard, unyielding. “You have come into my country, and I am now your sheikh. You made this choice. Remember that.” He turned and walked out of her chamber, slamming the door hard behind him.

And for the first time since her plane had touched down in Hajar, she truly felt like she was in over her head.

KATHARINE finished pinning her hair in place and stared at her reflection. She was pale and red-eyed from lack of sleep. She looked like the walking dead. Very attractive. Fortunately her future husband didn’t seem to care how attractive or unattractive she was. And she didn’t care what he thought, either.

It was all about politics. All about what the union could bring both of them. Their countries.

She blew out a breath and turned away from the mirror, walking out of her room and into the vacant hallway. She wasn’t going to stand around all day.

She should call her father. She’d picked up the phone about eight times since getting out of bed, but she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Not yet. It would make it all too real.

How ironic that now she’d achieved her goal she was having trouble accepting it.

It’s nothing more than a ceremony and a piece of paper. At least you’re not expected to stay with him forever, have his children .

Now that would have been a harsh reality. One she’d thought she’d been prepared to deal with, but one she was certain now she hadn’t been. Not if the thought of a marriage ceremony was affecting her this badly.