The Sheikh's Jewel Read Online Free Page B

should cover the necessary time. I forgot my pen, though. Do you happen to have one handy, my dear?’
    Her mouth fell open as he began perusing whatever work he’d brought with him. He’d brought work to their wedding night? ‘In the second drawer,’ she responded, feeling incredibly stupid, but what else could she say?
    ‘Thank you,’ he replied, his tone absent. He pulled out one of her collection of pens and began reading, scrolling up and down the pages with his finger, and making notes in the margins.
    She blinked, blinked again, unable to believe what she was seeing. ‘Harun…’ Then she faltered to a stop.
    After at least ten seconds, he stopped writing. ‘Hmm…? Did you say something, Amber?’ His tone was the cold politeness of a man who didn’t want to be disturbed.
    ‘Yes, I did,’ she retorted, furious. At least five different things leaped to her mouth. What do you mean by covering the necessary time? What is it with the el-Kanar men? This is our wedding night!
    Don’t you want me?
    But at the thought of asking it, her confused outrage turned cold inside her, making her ache. Why should this brother want me when the other two didn’t?
    What’s wrong with me?
    But what came from her mouth, born of the stubborn pride that was her backbone in a world where she’d had beautiful clothes and surroundings but as much control over her destiny as a piece of furniture or a child’s doll, she stated coldly, ‘If there’s no blood on the sheet tomorrow, the servants will talk. It will be around both our countries in hours. People will blame me, or worse, assume I wasn’t a virgin. Will you shame me that way, when I’ve done nothing wrong?’
    His back stiffened for a moment.
    Amber felt the change in the air, words hovering on his lips. How she knew that about him, when they’d still barely spoken, she had no idea, but whatever he’d been about to say vanished in an instant.
    ‘I see,’ he said slowly, with only a very slight weariness in the inflection. ‘Of course they will.’
    He stood and stripped off his kafta, revealing his nakedness, and Amber’s heart took wings again. Magnificent? Even with the scars across his back and stomach he was breathtaking, a battle-hardened warrior sheathed in darkest gold, masculinely beautiful and somehow terrifying. Involuntarily she shrank back on the bed, wishing she’d found another place to sit. I’m not ready for this…please, Harun, be gentle with me…
    She couldn’t breathe, watching him come to her.
    But he walked around the bed as if she weren’t there. He didn’t touch her, didn’t even look at her. At the other side of the bed, he put something down, and used both his hands to sweep all the rose petals from the coverlet. ‘I don’t like the smell. Cloying.’
    ‘I like it,’ she said, halfway between defiance and stupidity.
    He shrugged and stopped brushing them away. ‘It’s your bed.’ Then he lifted the thing he’d put on the bed: a ceremonial knife, beautifully scrolled in gold and silver.
    ‘What’s that…Harun…?’ Her jaw dropped; she watched in utter disbelief as he made a small cut deep in his armpit, and allowed a few drops of blood to fall into his cupped palm.
    ‘What—what are you…?’ Realising she was gaping, she slammed her mouth shut.
    ‘Making a cut where it won’t be seen and commented on,’ he said in a voice filled with quiet irony. ‘Thus I’m salvaging your pride in the eyes of others, my dear wife.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’ Beyond pride now or remembering any of her instructions for tonight, she gazed at him in open pleading. ‘What are you doing?’
    He sighed. ‘As you said, virgins bleed, Amber. It’s my duty to ensure that your reputation isn’t ruined. Pull the coverings down, please, and quickly, before the blood drops on the rug. Imagine what the servants would make of that.’ His tone was filled with understated irony.
    She closed her mouth and swallowed, and then swivelled