20. Chapter 20 A Mahr that is So Much More than Money
JULIANA
"Oh," I gasp out, my hand flying to my mouth.
Sand dust kicks up from our tires as we pull into the courtyard surrounded on three sides by buildings. Gabriel stops the car and quickly exits the car, opening my door before I even have a chance to fully process what I am seeing.
He offers me his hand and too focused on everything around us to argue, I let him help me from the car. We're parked in front of a building that must be the offices for the stables because the name Is?ablāt Jawharat al-Qalb is above the doorway here as well.
"The stables can accommodate thirty horses for long-term stays, but has six additional stalls separated from the others for either temporary placement or specialized rehabilitation needs." He waves his hand toward the long, low stucco building on the right. "There is only one occupant at present."
"But you said you didn't have a stable dedicated to rehabilitation in Ayn al-Hayat."
"We did not. Now we do." He hasn't let go of my hand yet and he uses it to lead me to the stable. "Come and say hello to your old friend."
Old friend? I hear welcoming whinny sounds and I pick up my pace. It's Sage.
I stop at the stall door and we greet each other. "I thought he was adopted."
"He was. By us."
"Oh, Gabriel." Pressing my head to side of Sage's head, I try to figure out what all of this means.
Gabriel doesn't try to rush me as I tell the horse how happy I am to see him and promise he'll be happy here.
"That will be an easier promise to keep if you are here," Gabriel says, oh so helpfully.
I frown up at him. "Don't push it."
"It is in my nature to push."
"Well, curb your nature and show me around the stables."
He does. Sort of. Gabriel shows me the arena with training equipment similar to what I had available to me at Solace Ridge, a small office for the head trainer which I learn is my role.
Because he understands that I have no desire to run a business. I want to train horses and work with them and the children in equine therapy.
"We have five therapists, two trainers, and four grooms on staff, subject to your approval of course. The director is an Egyptian woman with experience in running such a program and an excellent reputation. However, if she does not meet your approval, we will find another."
"That's a lot of power to give to the head trainer," I say, pretty much flabbergasted.
"You are also the owner. Is?ablāt Jawharat al-Qalb is your mahr."
Aisha told me about the mahr which a lot of Americans and Europeans incorrectly interpret as a dowry or bride price.
It is, in fact, a gift given to the bride by the groom and his family that is entirely under her control.
It is not given to her family, nor does it become part of the married couple's finances.
"I thought you'd set up an annuity or something," I admit.
"There is an accompanying annuity that covers the yearly operating expenses, but you will have freedom to use the income however you see fit."
"This is why you couldn't come to Santa Fe for my mom's birthday. You were working on this."
"I bought the property after seeing you working with Sage that first time and hearing your passion for what you do when you took me on a tour of Solace Ridge. The main building was already here and a small stable."
"But you've had the rest built in less than a month?" This wasn't about him convincing me to marry him.
I wouldn't have found out about my mahr until our wedding week.
This was about making me happy.
"I have told you, I will do whatever it is in my power for you to be happy in your life here. You would not be content without an outlet for your love of horses and passion to help them and children through them."
Tears burn the back of my eyes again, but they aren't from pain. "Why be so concerned about my happiness when you don't care about me?"
My sheikh grips my upper arms, his expression filled with some great emotion he's doing nothing to hide but I'm afraid to trust. "I more than care about you jawharat qalbi.
I love you. You are not just the very precious jewel of my heart, you fill that organ so even duty must take a place on the fringes. "
"I thought I couldn't be your top priority."
"I have come to realize that it is good I am not the Crown Prince because you are and will always be the most important person in my life.
I will not neglect my people, but I am no good to them without a heart and if you leave me, you will rip it from my chest and leave nothing but a gaping hole behind. "
"But the contract—"
"Is words on paper. You are my beloved. The center of my universe. The other half of my soul."
"How can I believe you love me?" I ask painfully. "After everything."
"Because it is true. I will love you for eternity and if there is time after that, my love for you will still exist."
"I want to believe." So much that I'm afraid to.
"Then believe." Clearly done trying to convince me with words, Gabriel lifts me clear off my feet and presses his lips to mine.
His kiss is leashed power wrapped in passionate persuasion.
When he lifts his head, his arms are wrapped around me in what I've learned is one of his favorite holds. His arm under my bottom holding me up and his other hand clasping my neck.
"I will never let you go, but perhaps, my courtship was not sufficient to convince you." There's a speculative gleam in Gabriel's eyes that sends a jolt of anticipation straight to my ladybits.
Only it's not just sex that Gabriel uses to convince me how well suited we are. He refuses to take me back to the capital in the two weeks before the wedding, keeping me at Dar al-Hayat, where he takes me horseback riding every morning.
We go rockhounding again and he insists on learning more about how to recognize where to find the crystals I love so much. We find perfect specimens, but it's the flawed one he insists on keeping on his desk in his office at the palace.
We make love every night and more than once during the day because my man is insatiable. He tells me he loves me, but I don't give him the words in return. I don't know why.
I feel them and I'm starting to believe his avowals of love are every bit as sincere and deeply felt.
So, why withhold my own words of love? Why not tell him that I’m pregnant?
He has to know that I plan to marry him. I haven't tried to leave Zahriya again, not that I have a hope of doing so if he doesn't want me to.
I spend time at the stables every day, getting to know the staff and working with them to bring in more horses before we open the equine children's trauma therapy part of the operation.
I've moved Sage to the royal stables at the palace so he's my mount when we ride in the mornings. He still shies some at the mounting block.
Like I'm shying about telling Gabriel I love him and trust him to love me?
My father requests a video call the day after Bobby comes to Zahriya, but I don't schedule one with him until the week before the wedding.
His usual smug confidence is missing from his demeanor when his image comes up on my phone's screen.
He tries to explain his reasoning for the arranged marriage addendum to the contract.
"So you saw yourself as nothing more than a concerned father trying to patch up your daughter’s pathetic social life?" I shake my head in disbelief.
"Yes. You’ve got to admit that on your own, you weren’t doing so hot."
"You don't think so?" He's right and he's wrong. "I did date, but I never introduced anyone to you and mom because I'd had all the interference from you two in my life I could stand."
And until Gabriel, none of the men I dated sparked emotion powerful enough to get through the walls around my heart.
He winces. "I'm sorry that our concern for you came off as interference."
"Maybe if you'd ever bothered to ask what would make me happy instead of telling me, I could have seen it as concern."
Slumping forward, he rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm sure you're right. We made a lot of mistakes with you, Juliana, and this is just the last one in that long list, but I promise you, I didn’t do it to hurt you."
I sigh. "Let’s be honest, it didn’t matter to you either way, did it?"
My father glares at me, some of his old bravado showing its face. "Hell yes, it mattered. Damn it, I did it for you."
I shake my head in disbelief.
"I wanted you to be happy, to believe you were loved."
"But not to be loved? How does that work?"
My father rolls his eyes. "A man can't treat you like he loves you without developing feelings for you."
"Um, I'm pretty sure he could."
"It worked, didn't it? Gabriel loves you now. It was as plain as day during the video call when you told us you were getting married."
"You want me to believe you expected my husband to fall in love with me because he treated me like he loved me?" I ask, having serious reservations about my father's emotional intelligence.
"Yes. Why would he? You're very lovable, little jewel."
Him using that old endearment hits me in a place I thought I'd bricked off years ago. Blinking back tears, I shake my head.
Pregnancy hormones have a lot to answer for.
"Learning Gabriel was faking his attraction to me, that his pursuit of me had nothing to do with me and everything to do with a deal he made with you, that you tried to buy me a husband? That all hurt." I need him to hear me. "Way more than you can even understand."
"And I am truly sorry, but it wasn't all fake.
That man has it bad for you. If you could have seen the way he looked at your pictures when I first showed them to him.
" Dad shakes his head like he'd found Gabriel's reaction inexplicable, no matter how lovable he considers me.
"I told him it could be any man in his not-too-extended family. "
And Gabriel decided to step up.
Because he saw something in whatever pictures my father showed him that caught his attention?