Sweet Revenge

before the procession began. It was heralded by a shout, then the traditional clicking of tongues of the bedouin women waiting in the wedding hall. He could hear the drums and the music as they began the long walk.
    Tonight they would walk through these halls again, in secret.
    “Is that it?”
    She nearly jolted at Philip’s whisper, then told herself it was time to see the humor of it. “Not by a long chalk. The wedding guests need to be entertained. Musicians and dancers go down first. You aren’t allowed to see them.” She gave him a quick smile. “It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”
    “And then?”
    “The bridal party. We’ll walk down between the chairs. There’ll be a podium of some kind set up. Lots of flowers. We’ll sit up there for the ceremony, then to receive congratulations for the next two hours.”
    “Two—lovely,” he muttered. “Do they feed us?”
    She wanted to kiss him for that, if only that. Instead, she laughed. “After, at the wedding feast. Why are you dressed like that?”
    Because her father had requested it, but he thought it best not to say so. “When in Rome,” he said easily. Then there was no more time for talk.
    She hadn’t exaggerated about the flowers. There were walls of them reaching from floor to ceiling. The only thing more stunning were the jewels draped over the women privileged to have been invited. Nor had she exaggerated about the time. They sat under a bower and shook hands and exchanged kisses and good wishes for more than two hours while the scent of roses and heavy perfume had a headache pounding behind his eyes.
    But there was still more to come. They were ushered, herded, Philip thought, into a huge room with one narrow doorway. In it were table after table loaded with food, sugared fruits, glossy desserts, spiced meats. In the center was a cake that towered twenty layers high.
    Someone had smuggled in a Polaroid camera, and women were gleefully posing then secreting away the pictures. Philip begged one of himself and Adrianne, then tucked it away.
    Eight hours after she had put on her wedding gown, she and Philip were ushered to the rooms where they would spend their first night as husband and wife.
    “Well,” she managed when the door was closed and the last giggle had died away. “That was quite a show.”
    “It was missing only one thing.”
    “Mud wrestlers?”
    “Such a cynic.” He took her hands before she could remove her headdress. “I haven’t kissed the bride.”
    She relaxed enough to smile. “There’s still time.”
    She leaned to him, leaned on him. Just this once. That’s what she told herself. Just this once she’d let herself believe in happily ever after. The scent of flowers still lingered. Her dress rustled as he wrapped his arms around her. His kiss was warm, solid, and more than anything what she needed.
    “You’re so beautiful, Addy. I almost swallowed my tongue when you walked into that room.”
    “I wasn’t nervous until I saw you.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I’ll never be able to pay you back for what you’re doing for me.”
    “When things are done for selfish purposes, there’s no reason to pay back. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
    “But—”
    “I’ve already told your father.” After unpinning her headdress, he set it aside. His fingers were already itching to work their way into her hair. “He has no problem with me wanting to take my wife on a honeymoon right away. I made sure he understood we would be in Paris for two weeks, then in New York.”
    “You’re right, it’s best. The less I see of my brothers and sisters, the easier it will be not to see them again.”
    “You can’t be sure that will happen.”
    “He won’t permit them to contact me after this. I know that, and I accept it. I just didn’t know it would be difficult to give up something I’ve had for such a short time.” She reached her hands to the back of her neck to begin undoing buttons. “We should rest, Philip. It’s going to be a long night.”
    He replaced her hands with his. “Some things come before rest.” He brushed kisses over her face as he worked his way down the buttons. “I’ve missed you, Addy. I’ve missed the taste of you.”
    She pushed the robe from his shoulders. “Just this once, you can taste all you want.”
    The dedicated French seamstresses would have winced when the satin slid to a heap on the floor.
    He awoke in the dark and lay still, feeling the