The Sheikh & I

“I gave Salma instructions to dress you appropriately for the desert. We won’t be running into any people this afternoon so you may take off the abaya. Make sure to cover your head though. The sun is far too strong for your pale skin.”

I was stunned to see the Sheikh step out of the jeep, taking off his own robe and standing before me in western slacks and a white long sleeved shirt that had a couple of buttons undone, showing off some black curls on bronzed skin. He kept his headdress on and matter-of-factly helped me wrap my scarf around my head in the fashion of the local women.

“Thank you sir,” was all I could think of saying.

“What for?”

“For taking time to show me around.”

“Think nothing of it. When Mustafa mentioned that you wanted to go exploring I cursed myself for not having offered to take you before. Allah would never forgive me if I kept a beautiful girl like you, Jamilah, from seeing the beautiful land that you’re in.”

I liked the way he pronounced my new name. It rolled sensuously off his lips. “Do you own all this land?” I asked as he started the engine again.

“Ah, how can a mere man own all this spectacular scenery?” he smiled back at me, revealing impeccable white teeth. “I’m only a custodian of it for my son, and my son’s sons, and their sons.”

“How about your daughters?” I asked curiously.

“My daughters will do me proud by marrying men who can strengthen our family’s role in this region.”

We continued on in silence, stopping occasionally for the Sheikh to point out some landmark to me. On the occasions when what we were looking at was on my side he leaned across and placed his hand on my shoulder and spoke with his mouth inches from my ear. I couldn’t concentrate on what we were seeing anymore. I could smell the musky smell of man mixed with a faint scent of an after shave or shower lotion. I breathed it in and feigned interest.

Late on in the afternoon we saw the first and only people on our outing. A jeep, identical to ours, came in the opposite direction. The Sheikh told me to cover my face and I did as he slowed down and greeted the men in the other jeep. We soon reached an oasis. Right in the middle of the barren desert stood a few dozen palm trees and resting in their shadows was a large tent. The Sheikh pulled up outside it and invited me in. The tent was furnished with luscious cushions, arranged around a table with a feast fit for a king.

I felt the Sheikh’s hands on my arms as he placed his lips against my hair and whispered. “Dinner is served, Jamilah.”

We sat down together and he pointed out the various dishes to me. There was enough food there to feed an army. Our conversation during the meal was polite and I was sure that the Sheikh was picking up on the sexual tension that was consuming my mind.

But even with all the erotic thoughts that were going on in my mind it took me completely by surprise when the Sheikh quickly slid over to where I was sitting and took me in his arms. He pressed my lips against mine and in the shock of the surprise I didn’t think to protest. I allowed his tongue into my mouth and enjoyed playing with it as he explored my mouth. It was only when I felt his hand on my breast, like I had fantasized about for so many nights, that I came to my senses.

“Please, sir, we can’t do this,” I pulled away from him, my breathing as ragged as his.

“You want it as much as I do,” he stated and his piercing eyes dared me to protest.

“I do,” I conceded. “But that doesn’t make it right. That’s not who I am. What would you say if a man tried to do this with your sister?”

“My sisters wouldn’t have been alone with a man to allow this situation to happen in the first instance. They know their place.”

“Well, your culture is different from mine. In my culture it’s OK for me to spend an afternoon in the company of an honourable man, but I can’t take it any further.”

“You think it’s OK to tease a man with your golden hair and eyes as blue as the desert sky?”

“I didn’t realise I was teasing you. I would never knowingly do that.”

“Oh sweet Jamilah, I didn’t mean to accuse you. It’s just that you take my breath away. My body has ached for you every night since you arrived and every girl from my harem who’s been sent to please me has made me even hungrier for you.”

He held me close to him and spoke with his lips against my hair. He was speaking my very thoughts. We were both passionately drawn to each other.

“Can we please go back to the palace,” I begged him, wanting the safety of my own apartment.

“I’m sorry, my sweet. It’s dark now and only a fool would try to cross the desert in the darkness.”

”You mean I have to spend the night here alone with you?”

“You will be safe.”

“That’s not the point!” I’d gone from aching to feel his body next to mine to being enraged. “Everybody in the palace will know that we’ve spent the night here. They will assume that I’ve slept with you.”

“But we’ll both know that it hasn’t happened. Unless you change your mind…”

“That’s irrelevant! When we come back they’ll think I’m no better than one of the whores in your harem.”

He lifted his hand to strike me, but stopped himself at the last moment. “The girls in my harem were all virgins when they came to please me, my brother or my father. They’re all from reputable families who couldn’t afford the dowry to marry them off and nobody has been forced into my bed against their will.”

I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry. But just as you find my western clothes unacceptable, so do I find a harem unacceptable and I could never live like that.”

He looked at me and caressed my cheek. “You look so cool and calm with those pale colours, but I can see that there’s plenty of fire and passion hidden behind that frosty exterior. How I would love to experience what that passion would be like in bed.” He kissed my hands and pointed towards an opening in the tent. “The sleeping quarter is in there. I’ll let you sleep the chaste sleep of a virgin yet another night and I’ll stay out here. Tomorrow we deal with whatever comes next.”

I awoke at the sound of voices speaking in Arabic. After a while Salma entered the sleeping quarters and looked disappointed to see me in the wrinkled clothes from the night before.

“I gave you your prettiest underwear because I was sure the Sheikh wanted to make love with you, Lady Jamilah. And now it looks like he did not even get to see them.”

I smiled at the girl for whom being asked to sleep with the Sheikh seemed to be the highest honour that could be bestowed on any girl. She helped me bathe and I got dressed again. She asked me to wait for a while and then I heard a car drive off. The Sheikh called my name and as I entered the part of the tent where we’d been last night I saw that the dinner had been cleared away and was now replaced by a mouth-watering breakfast. We ate in silence and then we set off back to the palace. When we got back the Sheikh kissed the back of my hand, winked at me and disappeared, leaving me to be guided back by one of the woman servants. We passed several women on the way to my apartment and they all giggled and looked the other way when they saw me. I suspected they thought that I’d spent the night with the Sheikh and I felt that this situation would be unbearable in the long run.

When we reached my apartment Salma was waiting for me and the poor girl had tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Lady Jamilah,” she said with tears falling down her cheeks. “When I came back I tried to set the record straight and I told everybody that you and the Sheikh had not made love.”

I couldn’t understand what was so wrong about that.

“But now everybody thinks the Sheikh rejected you,” she continued explaining. “They say you are not enough of a woman to satisfy an Arab Sheikh and he wants nothing to do with you.”

That explained the sniggering. I rolled my eyes at the people in this palace. Didn’t anyone believe that a woman could actually resist that man? No matter how strong his sexual charisma was…

I spent the afternoon relaxing and reading. I had been hoping to dine with the Sheikh again to beg him to set the record straight, but no such luck. Once again I dined alone. My body ached to feel his lips against mine and his hands cupping my breast again. Why had I said no?

The next morning it was still dark when Salma nudged me to wake me up. I was still half asleep and I wondered if he cheery girl next to me ever slept. We went through our normal bathing ritual but she didn’t start dressing me immediately. Instead she handed me my dressing gown and told me to sit down and have my breakfast. I was sipping my tea and eating toast and fruit when several women dressed in abayas entered my apartment. Salma pulled off my dressing gown in front of them, leaving me feeling shy and exposed. The lady who appeared to be in charge said something in Arabic to the other women and they pulled me with them and made me sit down on the side of the bed. Still holding me they parted my legs, letting the woman in charge stick a long finger inside my most private space. I protested and felt utterly violated but nobody paid any attention to me. The woman pulled her finger out again, wiped it off and said something that was obviously met with approval by the other ladies.

Salma came back as soon as they exited and she was all smiles.

“Who was that?” I demanded to know.

“That was the Sheikh’s mother,” she said. “She confirms you are still a virgin.”

I marvelled at the steps that had been taken to ensure that I was still a reputable woman and I was both thankful to the Sheikh for taking these steps and furious for the violation of my privacy.

Salma started doing my hair. Unlike other days when she’d just braid it she was now doing it in an elaborate style. I wondered what the point of it all was, since I was spending the day with a little boy who wouldn’t have noticed if I showed up dressed as a magician. Salma then proceeded to doing my makeup, making it much thicker than what I normally wore. When she was finished I saw myself in the mirror and I was stunned by the result. I felt that I looked stunning, but it was way over the top to teach a schoolboy all day.

Then a few servants entered with a golden garment. It took five of them to get the elaborate layers of fine, embroidered silk on me and I wondered if I’d ever be able to get out of it. I asked Salma what the purpose of all this was, since nobody was likely to see me and she answered that the Sheikh’s mother would see me, as would the Sheikh. I figured that his mother had obviously been called out as a result of the non-incident in the tent and now I’d been invited to dine with her. That didn’t explain why we were getting dressed so early. Despite the time taken to get ready this morning, it was still far from noon even. I wondered if I’d ever learn, or have a chance to learn, the customs of this faraway country.

Once again I was covered up and taken through the palace. There seemed to be a flurry of activity going on, but then I didn’t normally move around the palace at this time of the day. We reached an apartment that was larger and more luxurious than mine and Salma helped me out of the abaya and put some final touches to my hair. The woman who’d violated me before entered from what I thought was her bedroom and she was wearing an outfit that was fairly similar to mine, but the silk was black with gold embroidery. She motioned for me to sit down.

The lady excused her poor English and started quizzing me about my life in England. She seemed to know the private facts that I’d shared with the Sheikh and on a couple of occasions I felt that she was getting far too personal, but I was too intimidated by her to do anything but answer truthfully. When she was done she called out a name and I was taken to an adjoining room where Salma kept me company for about an hour or so. I was still not sure what was going on and Salma was unusually unhelpful by not answering any questions. Then one of the ladies from the Sheikh’s mother’s room came in and handed Salma a box. Salma opened it and gasped at its contents. I joined her to look at it and was stunned by the collection of gold and diamond jewellery. Salma started putting the jewellery on me. The heavy diamond earrings on my ears, the opulent necklace around my neck, countless bracelets and anklets, all in gold and with intricate designs of precious stones. I felt that I was wearing more money than my parents had earned in their entire lives. I felt uncomfortable and protested, but once again my protests fell on deaf ears. The Sheikh had ordered this and what the Sheikh wanted he got.

Shortly afterwards Salma brought out another garment – resembling a veil. Unlike an abaya it was the same golden silk that my dress was made out of, but it still covered up my arms, hair and face. Salma gave me a hug and disappeared and I was soon joined by the Sheikh’s mother and Mustafa who told us to follow him. Mustafa went first, followed by the Sheikh’s mother, followed by me. Behind me were two more men and like Mustafa they seemed to be wearing a dressed up version of their normal uniform. I gathered that we were about to enjoy a fabulous banquet.

We entered a large hall with dozens of men watching our every step. The Sheikh’s mother kissed her son’s cheek and sat next to him. He gave me his ring to kiss as I kneeled before him and I did. He then motioned for me to sit on his other side. The men started parading before our eyes, but I didn’t understand what anyone was saying. I was fascinated and wished that Mustafa had stood next to me so that I could have asked him what was happening.

Then the final man came up and it sounded like he was preaching to us. I heard him say “Jamilah” several times and gathered that he was speaking to me, but I still didn’t understand. Then the Sheikh leaned towards me and told me to say “Yes”, which I did. The Sheikh then said something to the man and the man shouted out some good news and the men in the hall cheered. The man turned to me and said “Lady Jamilah al-Hussein, may your womb be fruitful and carry many sons for your husband.”

My husband? I nearly shouted those words out loud. I turned to the Sheikh and looked at him with outrage and he just smiled back at me. “We will talk after the banquet,” he warned me as he took my arm and proceeded towards the banquet hall.

When we got to the banquet hall more than 100 people, mainly men and a few women, were waiting. I followed the Sheikh and there was a murmur of pleasure as he helped me get settled next to him. My mind was full of poison. All the erotic dreams I’d had about him were vanished and I was fuming. I hardly managed to eat anything and a lot of people noticed this and smiled at me. They probably thought I was a blushing bride who was nervous about the wedding night. This wasn’t completely untrue, but my reason for not being able to eat was my fury about how I’d been treated. This so called marriage surely couldn’t be legal.

The banquet seemed to go on forever. When the sun started settling in the Arabian desert the Sheikh stood up and offered me his hand. I saw no sense of creating a scene and followed him to the sound of friendly voices shouting out words I couldn’t understand. I recognised the Sheikh’s suite when we arrived there and the minute the doors closed behind us I ripped off the material that was covering my face and walked up to him and made him face me.

“We’re MARRIED?” I demanded to know. “How could we possibly get married without MY consent?”

“You gave your consent,” he smiled. “You said yes, remember?”

“But I didn’t understand the question. I didn’t know what was happening. Nobody told me I was getting married. That cannot be legal even here.”

“Oh it’s legal.”

“Well, I demand to be taken to the nearest airport immediately. I’m leaving this place right now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. According to the laws of my country a married woman is not allowed to travel without her husband, or without his written consent.”

“But I’m a British citizen.”

“You may be a British citizen, but the moment you said yes you also became a citizen of this country, and I’m afraid that takes precedence over your British citizenship as long as you’re in the Arab world.”

I was so angry I had tears running down my cheeks. This wasn’t true. This was one of my hot dreams gone too far and I’d soon wake up and everything would be back to normal. I felt two strong arms close around me and comforting lips kissing my head.

“Is being my wife such a bad deal? Most single women in this country would be overjoyed to have me take them without a dowry.”

“That’s neither here nor there. I wasn’t asked. I wasn’t consulted in this matter. I don’t know how it’s done here but where I’m from a girl is usually asked whether she wants to walk down the aisle.”

“Ah, well here we ask the father.”

“And you didn’t even ask my father.”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“You did???? He would never give his consent to this charade.”

“He did. You see, I explained the situation to him. I told him that we’d fallen in love and in our carelessness we’d exposed you to a lot of criticism from people here and the only way to solve that was to get married instantly. He was very understandable when I told him I was arranging this with such short notice to protect your honour.”

“But you lied,” I whispered. “We don’t love each other.”

“Don’t we? What was between us in that tent was more than lust. You’ve been wanting me as much as I’ve been wanting you.”

“But I can’t marry a man who will one day toss me aside and take another wife.”

“Look at the divorce rate in the west. Any man there could do that to you. Here you are protected. You are my fourth and final wife. You are the last woman to go to the marital bed with me. Your future is secure as long as I live. If you outlive me you’ll get a generous pension and can live wherever you want in the world. If you give me sons your future is secure with them as long as you live.”

My eyes had stopped crying. I felt very small and alone.

“As I told your father, I had to marry you to protect your honour,” the Sheikh continued since I wasn’t speaking. “If it wasn’t bad enough for your reputation to have spent the night with me, Salma then made it even worse when she tried to defend you. There was no way you were going to survive here with the palace thinking I’d rejected you. Now they know I decided to wait because I wanted to marry you.”

“But it’s not true,” my voice was still little more than a whisper.

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t even know your name. I can’t call you Sheikh.”

He laughed out loud at my last comment. “My dearest, sweetest, most beautiful Jamilah. My mother calls me Malik and so may you.”

“Is that not your real name?” I asked, puzzled by his way of telling me.

“Yes, it’s the start of a very long name that ends in al-Hussein. One of these days I will teach you to say it all, but this is not the time. This is our wedding night and I have much more pleasurable activities in mind for you.”

I gasped at the thought of the wedding night. Surely he wasn’t going to rape me?

As if he’d read my mind he took my hand and pressed it against his lips. “I will not force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I’m hoping that before dawn you will be clinging to me and crying out my name.”

He took me by the hand and led me into his bedroom, which was a display of opulence and luxury. I marvelled at my surroundings while Malik undid my golden veil. He stood in front of me and smiled. I didn’t dare smile for fear of revealing the confusing feelings that were rushing around in my head. He placed a finger under my chin and lifted it, allowing him to brush his lips against mine. He moved on to slowly take off the jewellery that I’d been wearing and then he undid my hair. It had taken Salma close to an hour to put it up in that style and he managed to undo it by taking out one pin. My golden curls spread across my shoulders and I caught the scent of the floral shampoo that Salma had been using on my hair.