His Pregnant Prisoner

Part 27

"Marriage. Commitment. Forever."

She had seen him only that once in the exhausting week and Nakayla clutched those three words to her every time she felt as though she was sinking in the spotlight leading up to her fairy-tale, fantastic wedding that had Tahiti and the rest of the world take notice of her.

She had never imagined her wedding day, having had only one disastrous relationship by twenty-six, much less on such a huge scale, and as the days blended into a flurry of activity, Nakayla felt scared, isolated, inadequate and craving Karim's company once again.

The palace staff in an upheaval over the upcoming wedding, even Rita had kept their daily appointments to a minimum.

Exotic flowers and exquisite silks, diamond jewelry and designer dresses, there was no end to the treasures Karim bestowed upon her.

And in addition to the army of staff that catered to her every breath, she also now had a secretary whose job was to school her in everything social—mostly at what state ceremonies she could open her mouth and at what, which was 90 percent, she had to look poised and beautiful and ornamental for the sheikh.

"I will train you in our ways," he had told her arrogantly. And through those two weeks, she would have even taken his arrogant, imperious behavior if it meant she got to see more of him.

Abdul, her newly appointed secretary, she realized within two days, was adept at manipulating the truth to suit Tahiti best. He had coached her intensively for an interview, the only one required of her, with a female journalist of a huge media channel. But when Nakayla had sat down to watch it, her jaw had fallen to her chest.

The bits and pieces of responses that Abdul had fed her had been manipulated into a cohesive whole that told how Karim and she had fallen in love with each other while he had been in exile, waiting to serve his country, how she had come in search of him thinking him dead, and how having found her again, the sheikh hadn't been able to wait to make her his sheikha.

It told of how a plain, hardworking nurse from Brooklyn, New York, had befriended their sheikh, fallen in love with him and now, had been transformed into the sheikha fit for him and his great country.

Nakayla hadn't known whether to laugh or cry or take offense at being described as some kind of mouse who had unwittingly befriended a lion, and subsequently, transformed into an elegant deer?

Because levelheaded as she'd always been, even having been exposed to her parents' glittering, high-society life at an early age and turned her back on it, her wedding and all it ensued was on such a grand level that even her head could turn.

Could buy into the fantastical love story that the palace whispered it to be around her. Could delude herself that Karim was marrying her because he couldn't bear to part with her rather than because it was the best thing for the situation they found themselves in.But it was a commitment they had made and she was determined to give everything she could.

The morning of the wedding, minutes before she was due in the lavishly decorated great hall, she had seen Rita and Huma standing in the corridor waiting to greet her. She'd barely embraced them when she saw Kristoff and a couple of her friends who had worked with her in the inner-city clinics.

Karim had contacted Kristoff and the rest of them personally, Alicia had said with awe in her voice. Of course they had to come to see Nakayla become the sheikha of her own nation.

Her chest ached as their words sunk in.

He had not only comforted her when she had been upset but had contacted her friends on her behalf. Domineering he might be, but Nakayla was afraid he was slowly stealing bits and pieces of her very soul.

Beyond her friends from the States, another small group of men and women stood in the last hall. With Alma and Ashir at the front, Nakayla realized it was the Mehreng. Mehab, standing close as always, had grinned at her stunned face, told her they had traveled to the city to stand witness to her wedding to their sheikh, to wish her happiness in her marriage.

Between Rita's admonishments that they were getting late and Alicia's wicked whispers about Mehab and the 'fine quality' of Tahitii men in general, Nakayla felt anything but alone.

In this strange country and between people she had only met for a few weeks, Nakayla felt loved, cherished, and thanks to the dark, breathtaking man whose gaze swept over her with a possessive desire as she reached the great hall, utterly wanted.

Once she had repeated the vows that she had practiced, Karim had nodded at the small group that had stood to the side of the hall. "Fans of yours, sheikha?"

Warmth filling her from the inside out, Nakayla resisted the urge to plaster herself all over him. It was a losing battle, she realized as she studied his rough-hewn features, that generous mouth and the long bridge of his arrogant nose. "My tribe," she had finally said.

And he had smiled.

Before she knew it, they were joined together as man and wife in front of God and the people of Tahiti and then she was whisked away to a feast unlike anything she had ever seen.

After two hours of raising sparkling water, picking at her food and thanking a host of dignitaries from around the world, her smile began to droop and her shoulders ached. The three-inch designer shoes that she had cooed over now felt like torture devices on her tired feet.

His hand around her, Karim instantly held her as she toppled. Last she had looked, he had been walking around the room, greeting and meeting men she couldn't even remember the names of. That he had appeared by her side so fast...her breath shook.

Long fingers held her right below her breast and she felt branded, feeling his touch through her dress all the way to her skin. "You're ready to drop."

She saw the hunger in his golden gaze, felt the tight tension in his body, heard the hiss of his exhale as her hip brushed his front. Legs wobbling, belly tight with need, she said, "I'm sorry, it's just been a long day."

His finger landed on her mouth, while he signaled to someone behind her. "Don't apologize. I will see you tonight." He bent his head and whispered, "Get some rest, yes? It might be late but I'll be there."

Sparks of heat spreading to every limb, Nakayla nodded.

She followed the contingent that seemed to be her shadow now.

No matter, she decided, because all she wanted right then was to escape from her own self, much less face the man who was slowly but inexorably imprinting himself on her very soul.