Marguerite Kaye - Hot Arabian Nights

He was dressed in loose trousers and a long dark-blue tunic fastened at the neck with black frogging. The simple lines of the tunic emphasised the breadth of his shoulders and chest. He wore no headdress, the sunlight making his night-dark hair shine like silk. He really was an extraordinarily good-looking man.

Prince. Not man, Prince. Crown Prince, no less. She would do well to remember that rather significant fact. She dropped a hasty curtsy. ‘Your Highness.’

‘Azhar is quite sufficient when we are alone, Julia.’

Emboldened by his smile, she gave in to the allure of the welcoming shade and the entrancing man, and joined him on the terrace of the kiosk. ‘I’ve never seen such a wonderful garden. The sheer profusion of species quite takes my breath away. The irrigation system must be quite ingenious to allow such different varieties as roses and succulents to grow in the same soil, under this unforgiving sun. My father would be astonished, and most envious.’

‘Ah, yes, I recall you said your father was a botanist, as well as a—how did you put it—a benevolent autocrat?’

‘You must think me most disrespectful. I was somewhat overwrought.’

‘You had just cause. In fact I can think of no woman I have ever met who would have been less overwrought, all things considered. Please, sit down and take some mint tea with me.’

‘Thank you.’ She did as he bade her, sinking gratefully on to a low, padded chair while fanning her face. ‘I am honoured that you have found the time to grant me a personal audience.’

‘You are not one of my subjects, Julia, this is not an audience. I have not forgotten my promise to help you.’

Because she had clung to his sleeve and begged him not to do so. Julia’s toes curled and her cheeks heated at the memory. ‘I embarrassed you in front of your subjects. When I awoke this morning, I was mortified to have behaved with so little decorum.’

‘I should have given you some warning of what was to come. It was unfair of me.’

‘A little,’ she agreed, ‘but honestly, Azhar, it was obvious that you were finding your return difficult enough, without having to explain yourself to a troublesome Englishwoman.’

‘Cornish woman,’ Azhar said with a small smile. ‘You see, I do remember.’

And he was once again turning the subject. Julia hesitated, but she might never get another chance to talk to him alone. ‘And I distinctly remember you saying that you had sworn never to return to Qaryma. And yet, here you are.’

Azhar shook his head. ‘It is true, I am not here by choice. When I left Qaryma I thought it was for ever, but it appears my father had different ideas. Despite our many differences, he chose not to disinherit me when he died three months ago.’

‘So that was what you meant yesterday, when you said you were here at the behest of a dead man.’ Impulsively, Julia slid off her chair to kneel by his, taking his hand between hers. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘To return under such tragic circumstances must be very painful indeed.’

Stiffening, Azhar withdrew his hand. ‘My father and I were estranged. I do not require your pity.’

Her cheeks flaming, Julia scrambled to her feet. ‘It was not pity I offered, but sympathy. Whatever these many differences there were between you, this palace, this city, this whole kingdom must be full of memories. I would find it extremely painful, but I am a mere mortal. I expect princes are immune to such human emotions.’

She waited for inevitable rebuke, but when Azhar got to his feet he neither stalked off nor summarily ordered her to leave the garden. ‘Yesterday, when we arrived, I half-expected my father to appear at the gates and forbid me entry,’ he confessed. ‘Last night, when they made me take his ceremonial place at dinner it felt—I had to stop myself looking over my shoulder. He was such a very powerful presence, it’s difficult to believe that he’s no longer here.’ He caught her arm, turning her around to face him. ‘Though he died three months ago, to me he has been dead for ten years, but the memories, the ghosts of the past, they linger. You were quite right about those. They are—I find them disconcerting.’

‘Goodness! A prince who is neither infallible nor immune to feelings.’

Azhar smiled faintly. ‘Only immune to certain feelings. Is it possible for you to ignore the fact that I am a prince?’

‘You’re not only a prince but a crown prince.’ Julia wrinkled her brow. ‘And a sheikh, you said. While your brother—he is also a prince and a sheikh? It is very confusing.’

‘Not half so confusing or complicated as your British system is, as far as I understand it—or don’t,’ Azhar said. ‘Sheikh is simply an honorary title given to a man of influence and high rank. As the King’s sons Kamal and I are Princes. As the first born I am Crown Prince. And as the person my father chose to implement his will when he was no longer able, Kamal is also Regent.’

‘So you wish me to forget that you are a sheikh and a prince and a crown prince and soon to be King? That is a lot to forget,’ Julia said ruefully. ‘Will I be permitted to speak my mind without worrying about being cast in a dungeon?’

Azhar’s smile broadened. ‘I doubt even the threat of a dungeon would prevent you from speaking your mind. You are a most extraordinary woman.’

‘Singular and now extraordinary. I am flattered.’

‘To speak the truth is not flattery. I have never met anyone like you.’

‘If you speak any more of these truths, I shall leave Qaryma with a swollen head.’

‘For a woman who has travelled alone halfway across the world, who has taken on a task which would have sent almost anyone else—man or woman—running in the opposite direction, who has dealt with being robbed, and drugged, and carried off by a complete stranger to a remote kingdom she’s never even heard of, you have a remarkably low opinion of yourself. Your husband has a lot to answer for since I suspect it was he who gave you your low expectations.’

‘Don’t you think that it is rather that my husband expected a lot of me?’

‘Your husband certainly made a lot of assumptions. Whether he thought through the implications of what he demanded from you on his deathbed...’

‘No, he didn’t. That is very obvious to me now.’ Julia rested her hands on the terrace parapet, gazing out into the garden. ‘The other night, the things I said about Daniel—I hadn’t given voice to them before. I hadn’t even realised I’d harboured some of those thoughts. I must have sounded quite—uncaring. I’m not. I did care for Daniel. I respected him, and I did love him. I think he loved me too, in his own way, only not as much as he loved his work. His precious book. Which I do resent a little.’ She grimaced. ‘More than a little. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’

‘Perhaps because we met under such unusual circumstances.’

‘Perhaps. Certainly all of this, you, the palace, the city, it feels quite unreal. Perhaps it is because our paths have crossed only fleetingly.’

‘Perhaps.’ Azhar joined her at the parapet. ‘Julia, are you quite set on returning to the desert to finish your task?’

‘Of course I am. It’s what I came here for,’ she replied, perplexed that he should have thought to ask such a question. ‘Oh, are you concerned that I’ll outstay my welcome? You need have no such fear. I know I behaved inappropriately last night, clinging to your sleeve and—and—but I very much appreciate that your time is precious. All I require are a few camels and a guide, and I’ll be on my way. If you would be so good as to exchange some of my banknotes for local coin, I can purchase all that I need. My notes are for imperial pounds, obviously, but as a trader, I am sure it will be easy enough for you to reuse them in a business transaction. I will need drawing materials too, and watercolours. And some clothes. I am determined to purchase something more suitable to wear. But I am sure all of that can be done in a matter of a day, maybe two, so—’ She broke off, for she was beginning to sound as if she protested far too much. ‘So you see,’ she concluded lamely, ‘I won’t be a burden to you for much longer.’