Read Online Sweet Revenge by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

Phoebe was ill and they would both be sent back to Jaquir. She knew if they were taken back now, she would never see a place such as Paris again. She would not see the women with their bare legs and painted faces or the high buildings with their hundreds of lights. She thought her father would be glad, glad that she had seen but not touched, smelled but not tasted. It would be another way to punish her for being female and of mixed blood.
    As if her thoughts had conjured him, he strode through the door and into the suite. Adrianne turned. She was small for her age, as delicate as a doll. Already there were hints of the dark, sultry beauty from her bedouin blood. Abdu saw only a thin girl with wide eyes and a stubborn mouth. As always, his eyes frosted over when he looked at her.
    “Where is your mother?”
    “She is through there.” When he started for the door, Adrianne took a quick step forward. “May we go out tonight?”
    He spared her a brief, disinterested glance. “You will remain here.”
    Because she was young, she persisted when others would have bowed away. “It is not late. The sun has only just set. Grandmother told me there was much to do in Paris at night.”
    He stopped fully now. It was rare for her to dare to speak to him, rarer still for him to bother to listen. “You will remain inside. You are here only because I permitted it.”
    “Why did you?”
    That she had the temerity to ask had his eyes narrowing. “My reasons are of no concern to you. Be warned that if you remind me of your presence too often, I will rid myself of it.”
    Adrianne’s eyes glistened with a combination of grief and anger she couldn’t understand. “I am blood of your blood,” she said softly. “What reason is there for you to hate me?”
    “You are blood of her blood.” And he turned to open thedoor. Phoebe stepped out quickly. Her color was high, her eyes round and wide, like a doe’s when she scents the hunter.
    “Abdu. Did you want to see me? I needed to wash after the trip.”
    He saw the nerves. He smelled the fear. It pleased him that she did not consider herself secure even outside the walls of the harem. “An interview has been arranged. We will have breakfast here at nine o’clock with the reporter. You will dress accordingly, and see that she is prepared.”
    Phoebe glanced toward Adrianne. “Of course. After the interview I’d like to do some shopping, perhaps take Adrianne to a museum.”
    “You will do what you wish between ten o’clock and four. Then I will require you.”
    “Thank you. We’re grateful for the chance to visit Paris.”
    “See that the girl holds her tongue, or she will see Paris only through that window.”
    When he left, Phoebe let her shaking legs buckle. “Addy, please, don’t anger him.”
    “I have only to
be
to anger him.”
    When she saw the first tears, Phoebe opened her arms. “You’re so young,” she said as she rocked Adrianne in her lap. “Too young for all of this. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Over Adrianne’s head her eyes focused and hardened. “I swear I’ll make it all up to you.”
    She had never taken a meal with her father. Because she had the resilience of an eight-year-old, Adrianne found it easy to skip over the words that had been spoken the night before and look forward to her first day in Paris.
    If she was disappointed that they would take their meal in the suite, she said nothing. She liked her new blue dress and matching coat too well to complain. In an hour she would truly begin her week in Paris.
    “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this interview, Your Highness.” The reporter, already charmed by Abdu, took her seat at the table. Adrianne kept her hands folded in her lap and tried not to stare.
    The reporter had very long, very straight hair the color of ripe peaches. Her fingernails were painted red, as was her mouth. Her dress was of the same shade, cut snug, and itsskirt skimmed her thighs as she crossed her