Hot Arabian Nights. Marguerite Kaye
miss it, but it would survive without him for another month. One more month, that was all it would take, he was sure of it. Then he would claim his freedom, escape this gilded cage, and in the process, help Julia to claim her freedom too. It was a most excellent plan.
‘A month,’ Azhar said, smiling at her. ‘Excellent. We are agreed, then?’
‘Agreed as to what?’ she asked blankly.
Azhar was not a man given to indecision. One of the keys to his success in business was his ability to act quickly. Yet his instincts this morning had been not to act hastily and to buy himself some time. The relief of understanding why, and of coming up with a strategy to achieve it, was immense. Though in his excitement, he realised, he hadn’t actually explained himself. ‘That you will stay here as my honoured guest,’ he elucidated. ‘With unfettered access both to the gardens and the kingdom at large, you should be able to gather all the specimens you need. Further, that you will allow me to be your personal guide.’
Julia’s jaw dropped. ‘But how can you—I mean, won’t you be far too busy being a prince? The people will expect...’
‘I will leave Kamal in charge temporarily. Escorting you around Qaryma will allow me to become reacquainted with both my kingdom and my people, while at the same time allowing you to document our flora.’
‘That is a very generous and, I have to say, most unexpected offer, Azhar. I can’t imagine why you would wish to devote so much time to me when you have many much more important matters to occupy your time.’
She meant it, too. What kind of a man had her husband been, to be so unappreciative of his wife! ‘It will be a very useful exercise, not to say educational experience, for me to view my—this kingdom through your eyes. All I ask in return is that you share your insights with me in your own inimitable way.’
‘Even if they are not complimentary?’
‘Especially if they are not complimentary.’ She was frowning again. He wished she would not put quite so much effort into evaluating his words. There were some questions he would prefer she did not ask. ‘What do you think, do we have a bargain, Julia?’
But Julia was not to be harried into agreeing anything. ‘For a successful trader, it seems to me you are sealing a very one-sided bargain. As far as I can see, the profit would be all mine.’
‘Not when one factors in the value of your delightful company.’
She laughed, but shook her head. ‘I’m serious. You realise you are offering me far beyond what I could have achieved with only Hanif as a guide? To my knowledge, this desert is further south than any Western botanist has travelled. It will ensure Daniel’s book is quite unique.’
Not an objective he had in mind, or even cared to achieve, but Azhar held his tongue. ‘Then you will have discharged your pledge to him with added interest,’ he said instead.
His reward was a beaming smile. ‘You really do understand. Thank you, Azhar. Thank you very much.’ Julia’s smile turned mischievous. ‘I am extremely grateful, and in return I promise that I will endeavour to be as rude, as critical, and as honestly disrespectful of this beautiful kingdom and its ruler as I can possibly manage. In my own particular way, of course.’
Julia rubbed her eyes, pushed back the bedsheets and sat up. The divan was positioned on a central podium under an elaborate fretwork canopy supported by four intricately carved wooden pillars. Her bedchamber was ostentatiously decorated, the walls covered in embossed panels depicting delightful scenes of lush vegetation, colourful birds and other exotic animals. The stained-glass window set into the centre of the sloping roof filtered a soft, dappled light into the room, the colours dancing on the pale marble floor, which was deliciously cool under her feet. It was very early, but she was far too excited to sleep, for today she was to leave the palace with Azhar for the first time.
He had sent word last night, confirming what they had agreed two days ago in the garden. He must have briefed the body of elders he referred to as Council yesterday on his proposed plan of action. She found it somewhat baffling that someone as manifestly self-reliant as Azhar would permit another to make decisions on his behalf, even if the person concerned was his brother, who had apparently been in temporary power throughout the period of their father’s illness. It seemed odd that the dying Sheikh had not sent for his heir sooner. They had been estranged, Azhar had said. Meaning, he could not—or would not—return to Qaryma while his father, the King, lived? He had expected to be disinherited, that much he had admitted. Had he then assumed that his brother would inherit? It was a reasonable enough assumption. She knew of many examples among the English aristocracy where second sons fell heir for all sorts of reasons. And Azhar’s brother, would he too have assumed that he would become King? Julia knew nothing of the laws and customs of this kingdom, but it was likely, surely, that he would think so, especially since Azhar had been absent for so very long.
Ten years. So much would have changed in the intervening period. She supposed it did make sense for Azhar to take time to take stock before assuming power. It would also allow time for his brother to become accustomed to the idea of having to step down. Julia grimaced. It was unfair of her to judge, given she’d been in the man’s company only a matter of moments, but she had taken an instant dislike to Kamal. He did not appear to her to be a man who would take kindly to being effectively deposed. The whole situation read like a fairy tale, the handsome Prince returning after ten years in the wilderness to oust his evil brother from the throne. Not that Kamal really was evil. Just a little repellent.
Julia smiled to herself. It wasn’t like her to let her imagination run riot. But then again, she wasn’t exactly in the habit of waking up in a private suite in a royal palace. She had never, in all her travels, nor even in books, seen anything so opulent. Or so beautiful. Padding across the bedchamber, she slid back the door which led to her sitting room. With triple aspect floor-to-ceiling windows, the glass panes set in delicate wrought-iron frames, light flooded in and made it the perfect place for her to work.
The sketch books, charcoals, pencils and watercolour paints which Azhar had miraculously sourced for her yesterday, were set on the table. It was extremely thoughtful of him to take the time to do so, when he had much more weighty matters to attend to. She had spent the whole morning sketching in the garden, retiring to this delightful salon to escape the worst of the afternoon heat and add splashes of colour to her outline drawings. She couldn’t quite believe her good fortune. To have been rescued by a prince, taken to his magical castle and given her heart’s desire! Julia smiled to herself. This might feel like a fairy tale, but she was hardly fairy-tale-princess material. Azhar however, was very much a prince. An extremely attractive, thoughtful prince, who might well think her unusual and extraordinary, but who was going to disappear from her life in a month’s time. She had better not get too used to his charming company and his delightful smile and that way he had, of encouraging confidences from her that she would not normally give.
But on the other hand, provided she did remember this was a moment—or a month—out of time, it meant a whole month to enjoy all this. She curled her toes into the luxurious pile of the rug, woven in vibrant jewel-like colours, which covered the floor. An enormous three-sided couch sat in the conservatory-like windowed recess, strewn with cushions decorated with gold tassels, worked in the most intricate of silk embroidery. Further seating was provided by larger cushions and several low gilded chairs, which were set around the table. The windows were draped in long, pale voile curtains which protected the room from the heat, though the room itself faced north. Above her, the ceiling was also ornately worked, a lattice of cornicing in gold, crimson and emerald.
Pulling back the gauzy curtains, she gazed out at the view of the courtyard beyond, as enraptured today as she had been for each of the last three mornings. Unable to resist the allure of the early light, she opened the latch on one of the long windows and stepped outside.
The courtyard was enclosed by three walls, the fourth formed by the room from which she had entered it, and was thus completely