The Sheik's Unsuitable Bride

plunged into wedding celebrations. To look again at the stars.

He turned to her and she leaned into him for his warmth, for him to hold her. Wrapping his arms around her, he said, ‘Where do you want to start?’

‘Sitti,’ she said. ‘Hamid calls me sitti. What does it mean?’

‘Lady.’

‘Lady? Goodness.’ Then, ‘And Lord?’

‘Sidi.’

‘Tell me more, sidi,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘What is ya habibati?’

‘You have a good ear for the sound, my beloved. But a woman, if she called her husband “my beloved” would say ya habibi.’

‘Tell me more, sidi, ya habibi.’

‘To a child, to Freddy, I would say ya rohi, ya hahati. My soul, my life.’

She repeated the words. ‘That’s beautiful, but you might be better not telling him what it means.’

‘He is beautiful. You are beautiful, ya malekat galbi. The owner of my heart. Ahebbak, ya tao’am rohi.’ Then, after a slow, searing kiss that heated her body, melted her heart with his love, ‘I love you, the twin of my soul.’

‘Ahebbak, Zahir. I love you.’ Then, as they walked on, ‘I think I’m going to enjoy learning Arabic.’

He stopped. ‘There is one more phrase I must teach you, ya rohi. Amoot feeki. There is no life without you, Diana.’

She took his hands, raised them to her lips. ‘Amoot feeki, Zahir. Is that right?’

He smiled. ‘As good as it gets.’ Then, ‘It’s nearly dawn. ‘Come. I have something for you.’

‘What? What more could I possibly want, dream of? A house in Belgravia, a BMW, more pearls than the ocean. Diamonds like the stars…’

‘This is not something to be written down. This is a gift of the heart. My promise that I will always, before anything, do all I can to make your dreams come true.’

‘Zahir…Every dream, every possible dream…’

‘Shh…Wait…’

Dawn was turning the sky pink and blue as they reached Nadira and, as they drove in through the gates, the sun burst above the horizon to light up a pink, sparkly Metro taxi.

Liz Fielding

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