Page 61 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

She heard a soft ‘clank’ and realised the dome must have been lowered over the fire in the next room as darkness fell.

Thankfully there were no more shadows to mire her mind...

CHAPTER EIGHT

DESPITETHELATENIGHT, still Sahir rose early.

Ah, but so too had Violet.

He returned from his morning horse ride to the sight of Violet seated on a low couch, wearing a pale silver robe with her blonde hair worn loose. She was sorting some books and folders into piles.

‘You look...’ His voice tapered off, her eyes flashing him a warning that his opinion was not required. ‘I hope you slept well.’

Violet didn’t respond; instead she concentrated on the books she’d retrieved from the trunk.

Sahir took a seat at the low table where Bedra had set up breakfast. Violet was blushing, furious with herself for noticing how stunning he looked in a black robe, unshaven, and thinking of the body beneath...how she had watched his shadow...

She was confused that she wanted him still.

‘Come and eat,’ he said.

‘No, thank you.’

‘Violet...’

That was all he said—but, yes, she was starving, and also she wanted to know what was happening, so she stood and made her way over.

‘This bread is sweet.’ He showed her the selection, clearly remembering her preferences. ‘Do you want mint tea?’

‘No.’

He raised two gorgeous black eyebrows at her lack of manners, but she refused to play nice. She glanced at his cheek. Of course she hadn’t left so much as a mark.

Damn!

She peeled apart some of the bread and saw that there was a gorgeous gooey mix inside—dates, and nuts, and perhaps honey too—and, yes, it tasted delicious.

‘Are you sure you don’t want some tea?’ He lifted the silver pot.

Too proud, again she shook her head. ‘I prefer English Breakfast...’

‘I’ll ask Bedra if we have black tea.’

‘Please don’t,’ Violet said, uncomfortable with the women’s presence and wanting to talk to him alone. ‘My tastes are very specific.’

‘They weren’t the other morning,’ Sahir pointed out, slightly tongue in cheek.

‘I liked you then,’ Violet responded easily. ‘I could forgive you for not having my exact choice.’ She picked at the bread, and then filled the silence. ‘Usually, I take them with me. My own teabags.’

‘Really?’

She nodded.

‘Take them where?’

‘Work.’ She glanced up. ‘Or if I go away for a weekend or to a friend’s.’

‘I see.’ He seemed to ponder that for a moment. ‘You actually bring your own tea to work?’

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