The Widow And The Sheikh. Marguerite Kaye

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      The slightest inclination of his head was all Azhar gave, but the royal person eased himself with difficulty to his knees and kissed Azhar’s hand before getting up again, turning to the crowd, uttering the ritual words of welcome, and thanking God for Azhar’s arrival.

      Cheers erupted and cries of the traditional words of welcome rung out, over and over. Julia could restrain herself no longer. ‘Azhar!’ The sudden hush made Julia realise she had most likely broken every single protocol, if not committed treason, but it was too late now. ‘Azhar,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Will you please tell me what on earth is going on?’

      He turned towards her, and it felt as though every single person in the courtyard was holding their collective breath. ‘Julia. Allow me to present to you my brother, Prince Kamal, Sheikh al-Farid. Kamal, this is Madam Julia Trevelyan. She will be our guest for a few days.’

      Automatically, Julia dropped a curtsy, although the man completely ignored her, saying something over her head to Azhar. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, earning herself a shocked intake of breath from the crowd as she interrupted him, but she was beyond caring. ‘If this is your brother then you...’

      ‘I am Sheikh al-Farid, Crown Prince Azhar of Qaryma,’ Azhar replied with a pronounced sneer. ‘Welcome to my kingdom.’