Read Online Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem by Marguerite Kaye - Free Book Online Page B

arrived—a much more elaborate meal than usual, which required an additional servant to bring it. Out of habit Celia was dressed in an evening gown after the daily ritual of her bath and massage. She stared in consternation at the plethora of little dishes in their gold salvers, wondrously appetising but far too much for just one, set out on a low table in the largest of the salons, around which banks of tasselled and embroidered cushions were strewn.
    ‘I can’t eat all this,’ she said helplessly to Adila, miming that they should take some of it back, but the maid only smiled behind her hand and backed out, shaking her head.
    The door to the outside world opened. Not just the usual tiny crack, barely enough to allow the staff to slip in and out, it was flung wide open. Ramiz strode in, resplendent in a robe of opulent red.
    She had forgotten how incredibly handsome he was. She had forgotten how tall he was too. He looked a little tired, though, with a tiny fan of lines crinkling around his eyes. He wore no headdress, no belt, and his full robe was more like a caftan with wide sleeves, flowing loosely down to his feet which were clad in slippers of soft leather studded with jewels. The robe was open at the neck, but for all his dress was obviously informal he looked even more regal, more intimidating than she remembered.
    She was nervous. Her mouth was dry. Her heart was bumping a fraction too hard against her breast. Celia dropped a curtsy. ‘Your Highness.’
    ‘Ramiz,’ he said. ‘While we are alone, I am Ramiz.’
    Alone. She decided not to think about that. Having imagined this moment many times over the last few days, she decided to act as if it were any other social occasion, and to treat Ramiz as if he were an honoured guest and she the hostess. And not, definitely not, worry about being alone with him in his harem.
    ‘Are you hungry? Dinner is here. I wondered why there was so much of it. Now I see you were expected.’
    ‘You would have preferred some warning?’ Ramiz asked, picking up immediately on her unspoken criticism.
    ‘It is your palace. It is not for me to dictate where you are, and when,’ Celia said tactfully, preceding him into the salon in which the food was laid out, waiting until he had disposed himself gracefully on a large cushion before she sat down opposite him.
    ‘I’ve been away. I’ve only just got back,’ Ramiz explained unexpectedly. ‘I told you I had urgent business to attend to.’ He lifted the cover from a dish of partridges stuffed with dates and pine nuts and sniffed appreciatively.
    ‘You mean only just got back as in today?’
    ‘An hour ago.’
    Celia was flattered, and then alarmed, and then nervous again. She poured Ramiz a glass of pale green sherbet and pushed a selection of dishes towards him. ‘May I ask if your business was successful?’ she said. ‘I presume it was to do with the other prince—Malik, I think his name was?’
    Ramiz looked surprised. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Did you—were you—did you have to fight with him?’
    ‘Not this time.’
    ‘What, then?’
    ‘You really want to know?’
    Celia nodded. ‘I really do.’
    It was not the custom to discuss such matters with a woman. It was not in his nature to discuss such matters with anyone. But it had been a difficult few days, and there was something about this woman which encouraged the sharing of confidences. ‘My council all urged swift and brutal retribution—as usual, since I inherited most of them from my brother.’
    ‘But you ignored them?’
    ‘Yes. I don’t want to follow that path until there are no other options left.’
    ‘So tell me—what did you do? How do you go about negotiating a deal with a man who wields power through fear? Come to that, how do you set about persuading your own people to accept such an alien approach?’
    Ramiz smiled. ‘You forget I am a prince too. I don’t have to persuade my people of anything. They do as I bid.’
    ‘Yes, that’s what you say,