Marguerite Kaye - Claiming His Desert Princess

Panic made Tahira forget herself. She clutched at Juwan’s sleeve. ‘Has my brother—or goodness, don’t tell me that my father...?’

Juwan carefully removed her fingers. ‘As you know perfectly well, our beloved King Haydar is far too frail to take an active role in any matters of state, and entrusts my dear husband to act on his behalf. Ghutrif is expending a great deal of energy in order to secure a suitable husband for you and is making excellent progress. I hope you will be suitably grateful. This harem has become a place of turmoil when it should be an oasis of calm while I await the birth of my son. If you cannot act out of a sense of duty towards me or my husband, demonstrate your avowed love for your sisters by embracing the next offer made for your hand.’ Juwan glanced up at the row of high arched windows. ‘It grows dark, long past time for me to retire. I bid you goodnight.’

* * *

Tahira watched her sister-in-law sway across the courtyard like a dhow in full sail before making swiftly for her own quarters, her thoughts already turning to the night ahead. She would have to be extremely careful. The merest hint of her sense of excited anticipation might arouse suspicion. Her sister-in-law saw a great deal more than she let on. They all did, here in the stifling atmosphere of the official harem, and no doubt it was the same over the wall, in the unofficial harem inhabited by her brother’s concubines. There was little else to do save to observe and to gossip, for those who had not the key to freedom.

But Tahira did. Her heart jumped. Butterflies fluttered in her tummy. Juwan’s little talk had left her feeling both furious and defiant. She did not want to accept the stark truth which had been laid out before her. She did not want to think of the fate which imminently awaited her, or the pain of separation it implied. She did not want to admit that there was any truth in anything Juwan said. All she wanted was to escape. The sensible thing would be to keep her head down, play the supplicant, act the penitent. But that was for tomorrow. Tonight, Christopher was awaiting her.

Christopher. The perfect antidote to her unpalatable reality. A man with no surname and precious little background. A man of mystery with a mystery of his own to resolve. He had most certainly not told her the full story behind that priceless amulet, a fifteen-hundred-year-old relic that might even prove to be part of her very own heritage. How she had managed to contain her astonishment when she realised it might actually have been passed down through the generations of her own family was anyone’s guess. One of her own ancestors might actually have worn it. When she touched it, she had sensed the connection, she was certain of it. Just thinking about it gave her goose bumps. It was not just serendipity. The fates had placed her there at the mine last night, they meant her to help Christopher solve the mystery of the amulet. She, who knew better than anyone in the whole of Nessarah the history of the kingdom’s mines. She, who might even be a direct descendant of the person for whom the amulet was fashioned. No wonder it seemed to speak to her heart. She laughed at herself for being so fanciful, but she believed it to be true all the same.

Christopher, however, felt no such attachment to the amulet. Her smile faded as she recalled his expression when he looked at it. Not a precious link to a distant past, but an unwelcome link to his own history that he wanted to sever. How quickly his mood had swung last night. He had looked at the beautiful piece of jewellery with such loathing. That devil-may-care façade she found so attractive hid a much darker, more tortured soul. Christopher was not a man she would care to cross.

But he was definitely a man she wanted to know better. Tahira wrapped her arms around herself. A man who saw her, a woman without a royal title or impeccable blue-blooded lineage, but like him, without a name and with precious little background. Christopher had made it very clear he liked what he saw. That a man so vital, so wildly attractive could be attracted to her—she couldn’t quite believe it. Last night, she had rather desperately wanted him to kiss her. The ultimate temptation and the ultimate deterrent, he had called her innocence. Was it wrong of her to wish that innocence away?

Yes, Tahira acknowledged with a wicked smile, very wrong but very appealing. Not that she would ever dare surrender what amounted to her most marketable asset, but there was no harm in travelling a very little way down the sinful path, when no one would ever know, was there? If one thing had become clear from her discussion with Juwan, it was that the days of her current life were severely numbered.

Talking of time! Tahira checked her watch, and gave a gasp of surprise. It was later than she realised. More than time for her to assume the garb of her alter ego and escape from the harem under cover of darkness, to keep her assignation with the mysterious and brooding foreigner. After all, it would be foolish not to take maximum advantage of what little time, and personal freedom, she had left.

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