The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(57)

“Don’t worry about the anthem thing. We’ll just tell them you didn’t know.”

“You mean, didn’t take the time to study and respect their culture that I’m marrying into,” she grumbled.

“Would you just relax? You’re going to be fine.”

“You relax,” Kaye retorted, crossing her arms.

Tossing his hands in the air in resignation, Amir stared ahead as the car pulled up into the circular drive in front of the palace. As they pulled up, the front doors opened, and a pair in shimmering golden robes stepped out from the portal, standing on the top step.

Kaye began to wring her hands with false nervousness, and Amir placed a gentle grip on hers.

“You’re going to be fine. I love you. That will be all that matters; I’m sure.”

There was a note of uncertainty in his own voice that was masterful, and Kaye glanced up at him with doubt clouding her eyes. The driver exited, and Kaye stalled as long as she could before the door was opened and she was forced to get out after Amir.

The camera crew had already jumped out and began filming as Kaye and Amir made their way up the white steps that led to his parents, who were staring down at them with haughty expressions. Amir wrapped Kaye’s hand around his forearm. As they took each step, Kaye worked on looking as though she was about to throw up.

A little part of her actually felt the same way.

When they reached Amir’s parents, she saw right away that he was the spitting image of his father, who was a tall, salt-and-pepper-haired version of the man before her.

“Wow, it’s nice to know that Amir will age well,” Kaye said.

She hoped so hard, in that moment, that Amir’s parents were in on the characters they were portraying. Amir’s mother’s eyes widened in shock.

“Are you coming on to my husband? Those are the first words you would speak to the Sheikh and Sheikha of Al Rayyan?”

Kaye cringed, holding Amir’s arm a little tighter.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she said, bowing like Amir had told her to do.

She reached out a hand for his father to shake, but the man simply stared at her open palm, not moving.

“I only shake hands with those who can prove their worth. Tell me, do you know our song?”

Kaye glanced up nervously at Amir.

“You…you mean the anthem?” she stuttered.

“Of course I mean the anthem. Have you taught this woman nothing of our culture, Amir?”

Amir looked down, shamefaced.

It was going terribly, which Kaye hoped would make for some great television.

“I didn’t have time, Father. You must forgive me. It is not Kaye’s fault.”

His father grunted, and the four of them continued to stand awkwardly at the top of the steps. Kaye could just imagine the editing, as a stare-down that lasted for what seemed like forever went on.

“I suppose you’ll want to stay with us while you’re here,” his mother said, her tone stilted.

“Yes, I would. And my fiancée will be staying with me.”

His tone brooked no argument.

“Disrespectful and nontraditional. This is why we never wanted you to leave for America in the first place!”

“I’m happy, Mother! Let me live my own life!”

“Your life is here with us!” she cried back, and her husband had to hold her back as she lurched forward.

After a few calming breaths, she closed her eyes for several moments before opening them again.

“Fine. You may stay because you are my son and I love you. She has yet to prove her worth. I suggest you help her find out how to do that.”

His mother glared down at Kaye while Kaye’s eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Cut!”

Jesse ran up the stairs two at a time, reaching the top with a big grin.

“That was flawless, Your Highness! You should have been an actress!”

The Sheikha’s smile was warm as she accepted Jesse’s proffered hand.

“Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely. Thanks for being such great sports about all this. Is it all right if we settle in a bit and start filming again tomorrow? We’ve had quite the journey.”

“Of course, you must rest. Come inside, all of you, and enjoy a glass of passion fruit iced tea.”

The crew all cheered, thanking the royal couple as they passed through the rounded arches and into the palace, where they were guided to a guest wing. As they passed, the Sheikha turned back to Kaye and smiled warmly at her.

“Now, allow us to introduce ourselves properly. I am Amalia, Sheikha of Al Rayyan, and this is my husband, Jamir. We are so delighted to have you here with us!”

Kaye laughed in surprise as she accepted the Sheikha’s gentle embrace. When she stepped back, her eyes were wide.

“Jesse was right; you should have been an actress! You had me shaking in my boots.”

Amalia waved a hand, dismissing the thought.

“That was nothing. I could scare Amir within an inch of his life when he was a child. I know how to fake firmness at the drop of a hat.”

“And she is never afraid to use that talent, let me tell you,” Jamir said, gazing down lovingly at his wife. “But what are we doing here on the steps, still? Come in, come in! Let’s give you the grand tour.”