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Again, she was puzzled by their presence. These, she thought as she trailed her hands down a red sequined dress with a plunging neckline, were definitely not what you’d expect to see in a deserted, or near deserted, castle in the middle of nowhere. Who did they belong to?
She lifted one beautiful silk dress off the hanger and held it up to the light. It was the color of the midnight sky and the gossamer silk floated back into place. It wasn’t as flashy as the others and its loose fit would disguise the fact that the owner of these clothes definitely had a fuller figure than hers.
It didn’t look as if it had ever been worn. Most of the clothes looked pristine, as if they’d just arrived from a French Atelier. She shook her head. This place, this man, and these clothes were a puzzle. But it was one she wanted to solve.
She nodded at her reflection in the mirror as she held up the dress in front of her. Yes, definitely this dress, tonight. And maybe, just maybe, it would help her solve the mysteries immediately before her. And who knew? Perhaps this stranger, this Kadar, might help her with the puzzle of her family. But not yet. She needed to figure him out first. Because if there was one thing she’d learnt, it was that families didn’t get wiped out for no reason. Her family had enemies. And she needed to know who they were.
CHAPTER 4
Kadar drummed his fingers on the side of the dining chair before jumping up and pacing the dining room. Again.
He couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d kept busy setting out dinner on the long table, but now there was nothing to do except wait. He wasn’t good at waiting. Especially when the person he was waiting for was not only a beautiful woman but one who could resolve one of his country’s long-standing issues. But only if she didn’t know about them. Once she was aware of her true identity, it would be too late for him.
As he paced, he couldn’t believe his luck. His visit had been a spur-of-the-moment decision when he and his brother had decided to dump his mother’s treasured wardrobe in the middle of the desert. He thought he might as well take the opportunity to stay one night alone in this place, which was so dear to his heart. The place where he’d found solace and escape from his family by hunting with his beloved uncle. One night wasn’t a lot to ask when he’d given the rest of his life to serve his country. And he’d needed time to think through the problem which beset his reign. Not least the problem of the Al-Barraq tribe. He smiled to himself at how, it turned out, no thinking was required. Theanswer to his problems had been blown to him on the desert wind.
He stopped pacing as a door banged far away in the castle. He listened to the sound of her footsteps, not the stabbing sound of his mother’s stilettos, but softer. Of course it was. He wondered which of the robes she’d chosen. He suspected he’d learn a little more about her character by her choice of dress. He doubted it would be as revealing as he’d prefer. His stomach clenched with lust as he remembered how her unusual hazel eyes—a feature of the people east of the mountains—had looked up at him with an answering desire clearly etched in them. It was a desire he was determined to exploit.
He gripped the back of his chair at the opposite end of the great hall and watched as she opened the door and stepped into the room. The brightly lit hall, illuminated by the rows of flaming torches kept for when there was no electricity, provided a perfect setting for seduction.
Ah, something modest, he thought, as he watched her walk towards him, the silk shimmering under the shifting light. But also something exquisite. He’d never seen his mother wearing the dress, and he was glad. And he also knew it would have looked totally different on her.
“You found the dresses then,” he said, unable to shift his mind from how beautiful she looked. That she was beautiful, he’d noted instantly after he’d brought her into the castle, covered in sand and, later, with water dripping down her face. But that she also possessed such grace and elegance had escaped him. Until now.
“They would have been hard to miss,” she said. “There are certainly a lot of them. And they’re all very expensive looking, very glamorous.”
Before she could ask the obvious question, he changed the subject. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Water would be nice, thank you.”
“Just water?”
“Believe me, I have an intense appreciation of it after the heat and dryness of the desert, of which I swallowed a good amount.”
He smiled. “Of course.” He enjoyed looking after himself. He still wasn’t accustomed to people waiting on him, and poured her a glass from the bottle, wryly thinking that this was something he’d never seen his father do. “Here.”
She took the glass from his hand and their fingertips touched slightly as she raised kohl-rimmed eyes to his. And the effect on his body deepened again. She stepped back quickly as if burned, and the water splashed onto the stone-flagged floor. She turned away and her gaze took in the lavish array of cold dishes which his staff had left for him.
“Looks like you know how to look after yourself,” she said, shooting him a quick smile, which spread warmth into his gut. How long had it been since someone had bestowed on him such a sweet smile, expecting nothing? Never. The longer he could keep her from knowing he was king, the happier he’d be. For more reasons than one.
“Certainly. I am, if nothing else, resourceful.” That much was true. He’d spent enough time alone in this castle sustained only by the meat which he’d hunted and the water he’d drawn from the well.
“It looks delicious.”
“Please take a seat. No doubt it is a long time since you ate.”
“It is. If a sandwich with the texture of plastic can be classed as food.”
He took a seat opposite her, leaving each end of the long table empty. “If that is the sort of cuisine the bus tours inflict on their passengers, then I’m glad I’m able to provide you with a taste of our country’s traditional food. Are you familiar with our cuisine?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all.”
“But you said your grandfather was from Sirun?”
“Yes, he was. But we ate only the western food our housekeeper cooked for us.”
Few people in England could afford to employ a housekeeper. But a leader of the Al-Barraq tribe could. And it would have been a necessity for a man accustomed to servants. It confirmed his suspicions.
“Then allow me to describe the different dishes.”
