Page 10 of At the Sheikh's Pleasure
“Maybe.I’ve never seen a good reproduction of her before.There are no portraits of her in my country.And the few in books aren’t clear.”She reached out and gently touched the frame of the portrait.“But this is something different.It’s as if I can see her for the first time.”She muttered as if she were talking to herself, as if she’d forgotten that she was a princess of a rival country, as if they hadn’t gotten off on the wrong foot, as if, he thought, they were friends.
When she looked back at him, he saw she was moved.“It seems you feel a connection with the queen.”
She withdrew her hand and stepped back, as if suddenly aware that she’d revealed herself.He guessed it wasn’t something she often allowed herself to do.This wasn’t a woman who let her guard slip easily.
She shrugged, as if trying to deny it, but unable to declare it openly.“I… I admire her and what she achieved.She was an independent, strong woman who cared for her people, especially the women.”She nodded her head, emphasizing her words which distanced herself from the personal.
“Ah, yes, of course.No doubt you share her passions.”He’d chosen the word carefully because he could see the passion inside of her again.He wanted to see more, so decided to push her a little.“But there was also scandal.”
She shot him a dark look.“Scandal always surrounds a woman who lives true to herself.A woman who knows her own mind.”
“Hm,” he said, “I think it was her heart, rather than her mind, which scandalized our people if the reports are to be believed.”
She didn’t answer.
“You must surely have read the reports about a love affair between Queen Mandana and Lord Gleave,” he pressed.
“Of course.Although I’m sure they’re exaggerated.Why would the queen risk everything she’d worked her whole life for, for someone she hardly knew?Someone outside her world.Someone who was forbidden her?”
“Only she could answer that, and while we have many papers on the subject, none are penned by her own hand.”
Rosana’s instincts were suddenly alert.“Papers?What papers?”
“You haven’t heard?”he teased.
She shook her head.
“No doubt because outsiders have not discovered them yet.They weren’t made public.But Mandana’s ‘love’ papers were favorites of the ladies of the harem.I guess it was equivalent to reading a forbidden love romance novel.”He smiled slowly.“Like Romeo and Juliet—forbidden love between people from different cultures whose families do not approve.”
“Oh,” breathed Rosana, obviously intrigued, although whether by the image he’d created of forbidden love, or the lure of undiscovered academic texts, he couldn’t have said.“These papers—I wonder if I might see them?”
Amusement at her keen need made his lips twitch nearly into a smile.“I’m sure that can be arranged.But, tell me, what is it you’re so keen to read?”He had an urge to know whether it was the personal or the professional which had brought that spark to her eyes.
She held his gaze steadily.She was strong.He admired that.“How can I know when I don’t know what the papers contain?”
“Fair point.”He took a step toward her, compelled by instinct, and to see what her reaction would be.She froze and her brown eyes heated with a warmth which sent a corresponding flare in his belly and lower.
A breeze blew through the room from the open window and her scarf, which had already slipped off her head, slid over her silky top down to the floor.He took yet another step closer, leaned into her and in any other circumstances he had the feeling she would have slapped his face, stepped back, or shot him an angry retort, but, again, she said nothing.She appeared frozen to the spot, her eyes fixed on his lips as he took yet another step toward her.And then he reached down, his hand brushing the hem of her top as he picked up her scarf, stood up and slipped it around her head, adjusting it into place.Only then did she jump back as if she’d never been touched by a man before.The scarf slid away through his fingers as she turned her back on him and walked abruptly to the magnificent double doors which led to the main room.
“Perhaps we should move on now.It is the rooms through there I’ve come to see.”
“Another time, Sheikha.”
She turned to him, surprised, perhaps, at his tone, which was lower, more seductive than before.The scent and touch of her had put only one thought in his mind.
“But—”
“Arrangements have been made for us elsewhere.”
“What arrangements?The only arrangements I want are to do with my work!”
He understood her abruptness, her slight aggression.She was embarrassed by her instinctive response to him, and was trying to cover it up.She hadn’t succeeded.It seemed she was an open book when her guard was dropped.
“Ah,” he said, “but I think you will like this.”
“I wouldliketo carry out my research.I wouldliketo get to work.”She lifted her chin in defiance.“As soon as possible.”
“And you will.But, at the moment, it is not possible.”
