Politically Incorrect: Subjugated Read online

  Silence. Hani said nothing as he watched her flounder for something else to say. She should have expected that for he rarely spoke, but given his behavior tonight Shannon had assumed her exasperatingly reserved husband would have had something—anything—to say. That knowledge irritated her and she reacted accordingly.

  “I’m going to bed,” Shannon announced in a caustic tone. She stood up, frowning. “I’m not in the mood to carry on a one-sided conversation tonight. If you choose to accept my apology, let me know when and if your voice ever finds you.”

  “Shannon.”

  She stilled, her surprised gaze flying back to Hani. She didn’t know whether it was the fact that he’d spoken her name, or the uncharacteristic emotion in his voice while speaking it, that caused her to feel dumbstruck. Bemused, she fell back into the chair across from him and waited to see if he would say anything else.

  A quiet moment passed in silence. She was beginning to feel like sitting back down had been a waste of time when her husband again surprised her. He steepled his fingertips together on the cherry table top and spoke in his characteristically calm, commanding tone as he watched her.

  “I accept your apology.”

  His words were sincere. She’d lived with him long enough to know that. Although he didn’t say much, he never said anything he didn’t mean. A small smile flickered across her lips. “Thank you.”

  Good lord above, he was a handsome devil. With his full attention on her like this, Shannon felt fifteen years old again, the virginal schoolgirl unsure of herself and therefore uncertain as to her effect on a man. But this man was all hers, at least for a few more weeks. She begrudgingly admitted that she envied whatever woman he would eventually marry when he returned to Saudi Arabia. To wake up next to a face like that every morning…

  But it wasn’t just his looks that stirred that envy for Hani’s unknown future bride. As intimidating as his presence invariably was, there was also a comfort to it. No woman could feel anything but safe when she was with him. He was the type of man one rarely came across in her culture, a throwback to the protective, medieval knight in a modern world.

  “I know this has been a difficult time for you,” Hani murmured. “Your father was a decent, honorable man whom you rightly held in great affection.”

  Shannon blinked and looked away. Discussing her dad was difficult at best and sob-inducing at worst. Not a morning had passed since his death that she hadn’t awoken forgetting that he was gone. Reality, painful knife in the heart that it was, always stabbed her back to the truth.

  Peter Smith was dead. She’d never get to see those smiling blue eyes again.

  “Yes, it has been,” Shannon said quietly. “Extremely difficult.”

  Hani reverted back to his usual silence which was just as well this time. She didn’t like to show emotion in front of other people so she took the opportunity handed to her to get herself back under control. Shannon hated teary displays. Showing such a vulnerability in front of a man who possessed none himself simply wasn’t tolerable to her.

  “You need to take a holiday. I think an extended vacation would give you a nice start.”

  Shannon’s gaze flew back to Hani. His thoughtful statement had shocked the tears away. “Perhaps you’re right.” She rested an elbow on the table and plopped her chin into the palm of her hand. “I’m not sure where to go or what to do, but a change in scenery is an excellent idea.”

  “Leave the details to me,” Hani said, throwing Shannon for a loop. Good grief, she wished her soon-to-be-ex-husband had conversed with her like this from the beginning! It made him seem almost…well…human. “I will see to everything.”

  Her smile came slowly, but glowed with genuine appreciation. She could have sworn she saw a gleam of satisfaction light his eyes, but decided she was being fanciful. “Okay.” Her head came up as she splayed her hands. She gave him another grin. “I’m all yours.”

  Chapter Four

  He shouldn’t be doing this. Hani knew it was sinful. The only excuse he had was that his excitement over taking his wife home in two days had escalated into a physical longing the likes of which was killing him. Or at least it had been killing him until he’d climbed into the shower and started vigorously pumping his cock with his hand.

  He closed his eyes, his teeth gritting, as images of his naked, submissive wife played through his mind’s eye. He was barely cognizant of the water pouring down on him from the showerhead above.

  Shannon.

  On her knees, worshipping his hard cock with her mouth.

  Shannon.

  On her back, accepting his thrusts, begging him to fuck her harder.

  Shannon.

  Moaning with pleasure as he released his seed inside her, giving her his child…

  Hani groaned as he climaxed, his cum spurting out in volcanic release. Tremor after pleasurable tremor coursed through him, sensitizing his entire body.

  His breathing was ragged. It took him a long moment to steady himself. He’d never wanted a woman like he wanted his wife. He’d never before given his body to any female. Sex outside of marriage was haram—forbidden—in his culture. But Shannon was his wife.

  And he was more than ready to end this self-imposed torture.

  “Two more days,” Hani murmured to the shower walls. He let the water rain down on him, cleansing his mind as much as his body. He leaned his head against the shower door as he closed his eyes. “Just two more days.”

  Chapter Five

  Shannon could scarcely contain her burgeoning excitement. In approximately one hour the plane ride from JFK Airport to King Abdulaziz International Airport would be complete. She’d never visited the Middle East before—it wasn’t exactly known as an ideal vacation spot for Americans!—but she had, nevertheless, been curious to experience it firsthand ever since she’d met the bin Nasser clan.

  They were a close, affectionate family. That had been apparent from the get go, back when his parents first visited New York. Hani’s mother was warm, cheerful and extremely beautiful. Hani’s father was as tall and handsome as his son and given to the same stoicism that seemed synonymous with the males of the bin Nasser name. His eyes were gentle, though, which gave him an approachable air her own husband lacked.

  Or at least Hani had lacked it until a couple of days ago. She wasn’t certain what to make of his sudden shift toward near humanness.

  Competing against the heady anticipation Shannon felt toward her impending adventure was a sense of apprehension. She didn’t know much about Arabian culture and sincerely hoped it wasn’t the misogynist, backwater hell that American media made it out to be. If it was it would be a crushing disappointment for she knew that would mean she’d have to cut her stay short.

  She frowned, recalling the leaves-everything-to-the-imagination body veil that Hani had insisted she wear even while on the plane. The silky, black, flowing cloak which covered her from neck to toe was actually quite comfortable, but she doubted she’d ever grow accustomed to the niqab, a black headscarf that shielded the whole of her face save her eyes from the view of others.

  Shannon sighed. Nope. This costume definitely didn’t bode well.

  “You seem upset.”

  Her gaze flew up to meet her husband’s. She hadn’t realized he’d been watching her. How he’d guessed at her mental state when almost nothing of her was visible to him was an enigma. Then again, the growing alarm she was feeling was probably the most transparent in her ever-widening turquoise eyes.

  “I don’t like this thing,” Shannon said quietly, pointing to her head. “It’s itchy.”

  Hani’s dark eyes flickered with an unidentifiable emotion. “You need only wear it when in view of other men, habibti,” he murmured. “We will find you a finer silk when we reach our home.”

  She was so focused on the new word he’d uttered which she didn’t understand that the words our home failed to register as significant to her brain. “Habibti?” Her nose wrinkled under the niqab. “What does that mean?”

  He smiled slowly, almost sensually. “It is like the word ‘sweetheart’ or ‘baby’ in your English.”

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t behaving at all like the man she’d known for over a year and with whom she’d been married for almost the same amount of time. And with Hani smiling at her like that, Shannon could scarcely think let alone form words.

  His teeth, white and perfect, made his tanned features all the more handsome, assuming such was possible. He had dimples. Sexy, devilish dimples. How had she not noticed that before? Probably because she’d never seen him smile until this moment.

  Shannon looked away, uncomfortable now by his attention. She wriggled in her seat, desperately trying to chase away the unwanted arousal forming a tight knot in her belly.

  Wanting Hani was out of the question, she firmly reminded herself. Even if they indulged in a sexual bout or two together he would still leave her once this vacation was over. She wasn’t the type of woman who could sleep with just any man so the slightest intimacy they shared would only serve to break her heart come divorce time.

  She sighed as she absently stared out the small plane window. Who was she kidding? Even before his shift from machine to man had begun it had started to become appallingly clear to her over the past month or so that her heart would get broken anyway.

  Shannon supposed that eventuality was the true reason she had accepted a date from schmuck-man—anything to distract herself. Carl had been chasing her around the office for three years even though she’d never given him the least bit of encouragement in his pursuit.

  And then one night as she lay alone in her bed, staring up at the ceiling into darkness, the realization that she would soon be abandoned by her husband had engulfed her. Tears had streamed down her face.

  Somewhere along the way she had become used to Hani’s presence, even comforted by it. With dad gone, the man presently sitting beside her had become the only anchor left in her stormy, uncertain life.

  Hani studied Shannon’s silhouette. His wife was unhappy wearing the niqab. He supposed his dictate for her to wear the conservative veil had been a bit draconian in nature, but the satisfaction he felt from finally having her shielded from the lustful stares of other men was quite heady. Besides, he grimly conceded, she wasn’t fully covered. Her sexy, sparkling eyes, contoured eyebrows and the upper portion of her adorable cheeks were visible to anyone.

  Hani frowned, not liking that fact at all. Perhaps he would feel better had he commanded her to wear a burka, the veil that covered a woman’s entire face, leaving only the barest bit of mesh screen for her to see through.

  No. He wouldn’t do that to his wife. He had never sided with the husbands who forced such strict rules of attire onto their wives. Besides, he thought lightly, his own mother would have a fit if Shannon was forced into dressing like a walking mummy. Wallah, she would likely have a fit anyway once she saw the niqab his wife currently wore.

  Too bad, he decided. His mother could have her fit of temper, but she wouldn’t gainsay him in this matter. Shannon would wear the niqab in public until Hani felt one hundred percent secure in their marriage. He needed to be certain that his wife would not try to flee from him at the first opportunity afforded her.

  He ran a hand over his jaw, not liking that last consideration in the slightest. A raw possessiveness consumed him, tearing at his gut and temperament, whenever the thought of Shannon leaving him came unbidden to his mind.

  Hani would never let her go. His wife would realize that fact soon enough. Inshallah—God willing—the day would come when she would wish to stay with him by choice.

  * * * * *

  Shannon was a bundle of nerves by the time the plane touched down in Jeddah. She didn’t know what to expect from this desert kingdom, a verity that was at once frightening and exciting. Anticipation of the unknown instilled a vivacious curiosity inside of her that was busting at the seams to be relieved.

  “You must enter Customs through this line,” Hani instructed her, gently prodding her toward a procession of women all speaking in rapid Arabic. “I will join you on the other side.”

  Shannon nodded, but was hesitant to leave him. It was one thing to undertake a grand adventure. It was a different beast altogether to be separated, even momentarily, from the only known entity who inhabited her current world.

  “Go on,” he murmured. “Everything will be okay.”

  The quiet authority in his voice was reassuringly normal. She blew out a breath while mentally castigating herself for her timid behavior.

  Turning on her heel, Shannon walked as inconspicuously as possible to the line Hani had indicated. As she neared the head of it, it became rapidly apparent to her that she was in a separate line not because she was a foreigner, but because she was a woman. Indeed, when it was her turn to produce her passport and visa, Shannon was met by a female Customs agent who instructed her to lift her veil so she could verify her identity. That accomplished, the agent gifted her with a smile and indicated she was free to continue on.

  Shannon smiled back, but doubted the agent would know as much. Her veil was back in place after all. She frowned thoughtfully as she made her way through the female side of the Customs area. The realization that she was the only woman in sight wearing a face veil at last dawned on her.

  What the hell?

  Shannon took her time looking around and didn’t know what to make of it when, five minutes later, she had spotted only one other woman whose head was covered. Every other feminine face was fully visible and heavily made up, their hair the only thing above the neck that was shielded.

  Even their clothing was far less restrictive, she noted. The necklines were still overly humble in nature and their dresses also hung down to the floor, but there the similarities ended. While Shannon had been outfitted in what amounted to a black, silken tent, these native women wore colorful clothing that was far more appealing to the eye and, while still quite modest, more form-fitting to the body. Oh, there was the occasional tented female here and there, but she rapidly realized they were more the exception than the rule.

  Why did Hani dress me like this?

  The thought that her husband was embarrassed of anyone seeing her was more depressing than she cared to admit. She hadn’t the vaguest notion what was considered a beautiful woman in this culture, but painfully acknowledged that she must not be it.

  “There you are, habibti,” Hani murmured as he came to stand before her. One of his black eyebrows rose inquiringly. “I was about to send someone to find you.”

  Shannon glared up at the powerful figure looming over her. She wished he could see the flare of her nostrils and the tightness of her pissed off jaw. “I don’t know why you would bother to,” she gritted out. “Nor do I know why you brought me here to begin with.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “You are angry with me?”

  Her shoulders slumped. She’d never felt so ugly and depressed in her life.

  “No,” she lied in a small voice. “Just please get me out of here.”

  She was tired, needed a bath and wanted to go home. Necessity dictated that Shannon see to the first two wants on her list before she could see to the last one. Picking a fight with Hani wasn’t conducive to getting anything accomplished, but holding her tongue was.

  “Our car is just outside,” Hani announced. His gaze was questioning but he didn’t prod her on the subject of her current upset. “Yalla. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Six

  She wasn’t altogether certain what she had expected Saudi Arabia to look like, but the reality of Jeddah wasn’t it. Shannon gaped up at the jutting skyscrapers from where she sat in the passenger seat of Hani’s luxury SUV. The magnificent buildings they drove past were distinctly Arabesque in design and quite tall even by a native New Yorker’s standards. The architecture was so foreign to anything she’d ever experienced that it seemed like she was dreaming it up.

  Other parts of the city were less modern and much more Old Arabia in appearance. The ancient homes built from coral stone were fascinating. There was so much history here just waiting to be explored.

  Her gaze was snagged by the people walking by. Shannon immediately noted that males and females did not openly mingle in the streets. Women walked together and men kept away from them, apparently content to merely steal covert glances at the occasional ankle here and there.

  Jeddah was a coastal city on the Red Sea and Shannon found herself marveling at the beautiful beach landscape that got closer as they drove onward. She frowned, wondering to herself if she’d ever get to walk on the beach before she left here without wearing the tent of a dress Hani had clothed her in.

  That thought led to another and before she knew it a small depression had once again enveloped her. There was no other reason for covering her up so drastically other than to shield her from the view of others. Men had a tendency to parade women around whom they found desirable, showing them and their physical attributes off like trophies. She sighed, the black tent she wore a symbol that her husband considered her to be no man’s prize.

  Hani had no idea what had upset his wife so horribly, but he was determined to have his answer as soon as they reached their home. His parents and siblings would arrive in less than a week to officially welcome Shannon into their family so that left him but six short days and nights to convince her she wanted to be a part of it.

  He was keeping her no matter what. Regardless, he also knew it would be a better life for them both did she come to desire his nearness like he desired hers.

  Six days and nights. He had a lot of convincing to accomplish in a very short timeframe.

  It occurred to him that he had the same sparse amount of time to have his wife’s attention all to himself. Childish as it probably was, that last thought annoyed him the most. He’d been waiting for over a year to be the center of her world and six days of having his way was unlikely to curb that craving overly much.

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