The Widow And The Sheikh. Marguerite Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ hair back from her face, adjusting her position to face him more squarely. ‘You know, I always thought that it was a love of science that drove Daniel, wanting his work to be recognised in the rarefied echelons of the scientific and academic communities as one of the definitive reference guides in its field. I respected him for that, but I wonder now if it was fame he actually coveted, his name he wished to be remembered.’

      Azhar was forming his own, extremely uncomplimentary opinion of Julia’s dead husband, but he wisely chose not to share it. ‘Does it make any material difference?’ he asked.

      Julia pursed her lips, and then smiled. ‘You know, I don’t think it does. Whatever his reasons, my task remains the same.’

      ‘You have taken on a very heavy burden.’

      ‘I thought so at first, and indeed there are aspects of it which—but actually, I have found the experience of travel most liberating. I have not been at all lonely you know. In fact I’ve very much enjoyed my own company. And last night’s events aside, I have been quite captivated by the beauty of Arabia. Besides,’ she added, her smile becoming wry, ‘I had no option. One cannot refuse a dying man’s wishes.’

      Azhar winced. Her words were so very nearly his exact thoughts on the summons that brought him here. Tomorrow—but he suddenly, desperately did not want to think of tomorrow. Not yet. ‘So it is at your husband’s command that you are here, alone?’

      ‘You’ll understand now why I found it somewhat ironic when you asked if I had his permission to travel,’ Julia replied. ‘Daniel is dictating my actions from beyond the grave just as effectively as he did before he passed away.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘But not for much longer. I’ll finish his book, I’ll make good on all those promises, and that will be an end of it. My whole life I have been doing another’s bidding, drawing and painting to order. First for my father, then for Daniel. I have earned my right to freedom, and by heavens, I am going to enjoy it.’

      Freedom. These last ten years Azhar had believed himself free, but from the moment he’d opened that summons he knew he’d been fooling himself. Freedom required the severing of all ties, all burdens, the honourable discharge of duty, just as Julia said. The last ten years had changed him for ever, shaped him into the man he was now, living the life he wanted to live. It was not the summons itself, with the unwelcome and completely unexpected news it contained, nor was it the command from beyond the grave that drove him here. It was this need for an absolute ending, for true freedom, which had driven him so many miles across the desert sands.

      He and Julia sought the same thing. ‘You crave your freedom. It would be churlish of me,’ Azhar said, ‘not to assist you in achieving that most desirable state of affairs.’

      She beamed at him. ‘You’ll help me to find a guide, camels—and paints—will I be able to purchase paints?’

      So little, she asked of him. She cared not for the dangers she had faced nor those to come, with her goal in sight. He, of all people, could understand that. He was forced to admire her. Her tenacity. Her fortitude. Her determination to make the best of an appalling lot. Not a tear had she shed. She had not theatrically thrown herself on his mercy, nor had she played the damsel in distress, though her situation would have been ample excuse to do so. She did not expect him to save her, she merely wished him to assist with providing her the means to save herself. She really was a most unusual female. ‘I will help you,’ Azhar said. ‘I will take you to Al-Qaryma, and there you will find all you require.’

      Her face lit up. ‘Thank you, Azhar. Thank you so much.’

      To his surprise, she grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Her mouth was warm on his skin. His body reacted instantly, sending blood coursing to his groin. Horrified, he snatched his hand away.

      ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean—I didn’t think—I...’

      Her embarrassment fortunately masked his own discomfort. ‘It has been a long and emotional day.’ Azhar stirred the cooking pot. ‘You must be hungry. Let us eat, and then you must rest. We will start for Al-Qaryma at dawn.’

      * * *

      They ate directly from the cooling cooking pot using their fingers. Julia, by now accustomed to the practice, and remembering to use only her right hand, ate with relish, not at all concerned at the lack of cutlery or the need to share.

      Her confession had given her an appetite. She couldn’t believe she had imparted all those intimate thoughts to this complete stranger. She had portrayed herself in a stark and very unflattering light. She was not at all proud of her feelings. She felt enormously guilty for even having them, never mind voicing them. Her resentment must have come over loud and clear, yet Azhar had not condemned her. On the contrary, he had seemed, from the little he had said, to be sympathetic to her stance.

      Besides, it had felt good, finally, to articulate a little of what she was feeling. Daniel had reserved all his passion for his book, forcing her to bottle hers up. She had no idea if she was even capable of expressing it, for after that first time, the only time she’d ever dared to initiate any sort of intimacy and had been rejected, she had been careful not to alarm her husband with anything more than a tepid response to his own infrequent overtures. It seemed to satisfy him. Certainly he had never seemed dissatisfied, which was the same thing, wasn’t it?

      Recalling the way her stomach had lurched when she had kissed Azhar’s hand, Julia wasn’t so sure. It had felt like some sort of alchemical reaction between her skin and Azhar’s. There had been a connection from his hand to her lips to her belly that set her blood tingling. And all she’d done was kiss his hand!

      To her eternal embarrassment and his. What had possessed her? She slanted a look at him as he threw the remnants of their frugal meal towards his Saluki, and there was her explanation. Azhar was simply one of the most stunningly attractive men she had ever encountered.

      One of the most intriguing too. He gave very little away. He was a rich trader. He was not married. He’d been away from this kingdom, his home, for ten years. That was the sum total of what she knew of him. The reason for his absence from home was definitely off the list of subjects he’d be willing to discuss however, and the last thing she wished to do was estrange him. Best if she stuck to more neutral topics.

      ‘Thank you very much,’ Julia said when he turned back to her, wiping his fingers on a large square of white lawn kerchief. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever eaten such a delicious hare.’

      She was rewarded with a smile. ‘Not even a fat English one?’

      ‘Not even an enormous Cornish one,’ Julia said, laughing. She leaned back to gaze up at the night sky. ‘We had a telescope at our—my father’s—home in Marazion Bay, but the stars in the desert sky feel so close one almost doesn’t need one. I have tried to paint it, but it’s impossible to replicate such beauty.’

      ‘You do not confine your art to botanical specimens, then?’

      ‘I’ve had little time to paint anything else but—no, not wholly. When all this is over, I can paint what I like. And perhaps also what other people like too, since I’ll have to find some way of earning my living.’

      Azhar frowned. ‘Your husband did not make provision for you?’

      ‘What little we had will be consumed by this trip and the production of his book. Daniel assumed I would return to live with my father.’

      ‘But you have other ideas?’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ