Page 45 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)
Chapter Thirty-Two
T he line dancing at their engagement celebration was a bit of a mess on account of there being too few Arabs and too many non-Arabs trying their hand (and feet) at it for the first time.
“We’re messing up the tempo,” Hawk said to Naila while they kicked and dipped their way through the dance. They moved to the beat of the throbbing tabla drum the architect had brought over for this evening’s party.
She squeezed his hand as they moved shoulder-to-shoulder. “Nonsense, it’s the spirit of the debke that matters and everyone seems to be having a good time.”
She was laughing and out of breath. He was breathless, too, but mostly from looking at her and being filled with wonder at being able to publicly claim Naila as his.
“I cannot believe I had to wait nine years to be able to dance in line next to you,” he said loudly over the music, remembering the time Naila’s male cousins very pointedly kept him from holding Naila’s hand.
“Was it worth the wait?” she asked.
“It would have been preferable to be able to do it years ago,” he grumbled. “I don’t see how we gained anything from being miserably apart all those years.”
The music swelled, the beat growing more insistent.
The debke dancers at the head of the line, those who set the tempo, picked up the pace.
Kareem and Ghassan were at the lead, followed by Strick, Guy and a handful of other men.
Hawk was happily at the end of the men so that he could hold his love’s hand.
Naila was first in line for the women, followed by Nadine and Hind and several American heiresses trying to follow the steps with varying degrees of success.
When the music ended, the fatigued dancers broke away to rest their feet and get something cool to drink. Strick’s footmen served a refreshing icy lemon mint drink.
“This is delicious,” he said, bottoming out the glass.
Naila, flushed and radiant, sipped her drink. “We must grow na’na at Briar Hall so that we can make limonana whenever you like.”
“ Na’na ?” he repeated.
“Mint,” she translated. “Every self-respecting Palestinian household grows their own mint.”
“If it means I can have this drink... what is it called?”
“ Limonana. It’s a combination of the words lemon and na’na . Basically, it’s a mint lemonade.”
He reached for another full glass. “We’ll need to direct the gardener to plant mint right away.”
Charles and Phoebe wandered over. “I never imagined we’d be celebrating your betrothal before Phoebe and I made it to the altar,” Charles said.
Hawk grinned. “I need to lock the lady in before someone else does.”
Phoebe sidled up to Naila. “Everyone is agog that you’ve captured an earl.”
“ I captured her,” Hawk corrected. “And it wasn’t an easy task.”
Naila’s cheeks colored. “I don’t think they need to hear the entire story,” she interrupted.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it,” Charles said.
Fortunately for Naila, Strick and Raya came over, and Charles and Phoebe excused themselves, leaving the four of them on their own.
“Congratulations you two,” Raya said. “I’m thrilled Naila will be here in England with me.”
“Everyone is excited for you,” Strick added.
Hawk scanned the room, his gaze landing on the scowling older woman sitting on the perimeter of the dance floor. “Not everyone, apparently. Auntie Majida looks less than thrilled.”
“Nonsense,” Raya said. “Auntie always looks mad but she’s relieved that all three Darwish sisters will now be married. Finally.”
The older woman suddenly started wailing. Hawk froze. Was she about to cause a scene? He looked to Naila but she was smiling, her focus on her aunt. Strick and Raya also acted as if nothing was amiss.
It took Hawk a moment to realize the old lady wasn’t wailing. The high-pitched rhythmic sound was an ululation. “Isn’t that an expression of joy and celebration?” he asked.
“Yes.” Naila laughed. “I told you she was happy.”
To finally be accepted by Auntie Majida was a validation Hawk didn’t realize he’d been waiting for. “Well”—he smirked in Strick’s direction—“it looks like you are not the only foreigner husband Auntie Majida approves of.”
“You never know,” Strick said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Didn’t Naila ever tell you that ululations can also be an expression of sorrow?”
Hawk’s smile slipped. “Is that true?” he asked the sisters.
“Don’t listen to the duke,” Naila said. “Come on. I want to waltz with my future husband.”
“It would be my pleasure.” Hawk offered his arm. When he took her into his arms, all was right with the world.
“Hawk,” Naila said. “There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
They took a twirl. “And what is that, my love?”
“Do you remember that ring you tried to give me the first time you proposed, the one that matched the bracelet you gave me?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “What of it?”
“I would like for that to be my wedding gift from you.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s in Philadelphia.”
“You left it there?”
“I actually tossed it into the river when I was rowing,” he said apologetically. “I was a little upset.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I’ll have twenty different rings made to replace it.”
“Don’t be silly,” she returned. “As long as I have you, that is all I need.”
“ Ya rohee ,” he said.
She blinked. “What?’
“Did I say it wrong? Your aunt taught it to me.”
Her expression grew misty. “Not at all. You said it correctly. Ya rohee .”
“My soul,” he said. “You are my soul. You’ve always been. I cannot wait to marry you.”
“ Fil dunya wal akhra, ” she said softly.
“Absolutely.” This time he remembered what those words meant. “In this world and the next.”
He’d spent an eternity waiting for this woman, biding his time until he could claim her as his own in front of the world. He would never hide his love for her again. That is why, in full view of their guests and not caring who saw them, he kissed his bride-to-be with a smile on his lips.