‘Now you ruin our wedding night,’ she accused him.
She huffed off to the sleeping area and Mikael called to her.
‘It won’t work with me, Layla…’
He followed her in and was momentarily sidetracked, for he had never seen anything like it. There was nothing more luxurious than a desert sky at night, and with the tent’s roof pulled back they would sleep under the stars in the vast marital bed.
‘We are not married till we sleep together,’ Layla said. ‘You can still change your mind.’
‘Nobody’ s talking about changing their mind, but your father deserves to be happy too.’
‘What about my mother?’ Layla asked. ‘How long has this been going on?’
‘That’s none of our business.’
‘Oh, but it is!’ Layla roared. ‘Has he forgotten his Queen?’
‘Of course not,’ Mikael said, and he took his bride in his arms and felt her heart racing as she struggled to process the news. He had guessed that it was this, not Jamila’s lowly status, that was at the heart of her distress. ‘Your father loves your mother and always will. I am quite sure of that.’
‘How can you be?’
‘When I tried to convince your father to allow you to marry me it was as if she was there in the room—talking to him, guiding him. Nothing will take their love away…’
The most cynical man in the world had confirmed what Layla felt in her heart—that her mother was somehow still there.
Layla thought about how happy she was and wanted everyone to feel the same—to feel as loved and as content and as excited about the future as she felt now.
‘I am happy for Jamila and my father,’ she said. ‘I think it will be awkward, but I am going to try.’
‘That’s all you have to do.’
‘Will you one day have forgotten me?’ Layla asked.
‘Never.’
‘What if you hadn’t come for me…?’
And there was her real fear—and it was scary even to voice it. But they had barely spoken since she had chosen Mikael and now, in his arms, she dared to face up to how terrible tonight might have been had it not been for Mikael.
‘I was always coming for you,’ he said to the shell of her ear. ‘I’d have worked out your note, we’d have met online, I’d have lived in Ishla just to be near you…’
Mikael told her his truth—just not all of it, for he knew he would have appealed to Zahid on the death of the King and, whether she’d been married to another or not, he would one day have made Layla his.
‘I would have spent the rest of my life either working out how to be with you or ensuring that you were happy.’
‘What made you come when you did?’
‘When I found out you loved me there was no question.’
‘How could you not have known I loved you?’ Layla frowned. ‘Even if I could not say it, surely you knew…?’ She pulled her head back and saw his eyes. He did not comprehend her words—but then how could he? Layla thought. For Mikael had never known love.
He would know it every day now.
It would not just be a year of dancing and kissing, Layla thought as her mouth moved to his. It would be a year of learning about a man who had never loved another—and what a privilege that would be.
Their first kiss as husband and wife was from another dimension, and knowing they did not have to halt, that they had the blessing of the desert, made it all the more sublime.
His chin was rough and it did not matter—for they were here in the desert for as long as they desired…and desire they did.
At every turn, in every intimate moment, Mikael had resisted—and now he did not have to.
Her tongue was the instigator, for it suckled his, and then she glimpsed Mikael without restraint. He was raising her robe and her hands lifted above her head, for she wanted it gone too.