The Desert Lord's Love-Child: The Desert Lord's Baby. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ in mosaic glass and gold finials.

      “This place … it’s amazing.” That wasn’t what she’d intended to say, but a strange excitement was taking over through her agitation. “I can almost see the grounds and terraces with the stairs leading down to the beach and marina lit with strings of lanterns and brass pillars bearing torches, live ood music playing between a blend of accents as head honchos from around the globe move from one world-shaping banquet to another.”

      She turned up entranced eyes, found him staring at her in the semidarkness, his eyes flaring like burning coals.

      Then he exhaled. “Who better than you to see the potential of this place? Regretfully, with my uncle ill for so long, it has seen no such events in the five years it’s been in existence. Our marriage will be the first festive occasion to take place here.”

      He fell silent as footmen dressed in ornate uniforms materialized to open the palace’s twenty-foot, inlaid-in-gold-and-silver mahogany double doors. She looked back to catch its details, then turned to find more wonders to capture her eyes. The circular columned hall they were crossing had to be at least two hundred feet in diameter, with a soaring ceiling at least one hundred feet high, its center sprawling under a gigantic stained-glass dome.

      Her gaze swam around the superbly lit space, got impressions of a sweeping floor plan extending on both sides of the hall, of pastels and neutrals, of Arabian/Moorish influences in decor and furnishing, modern ones in finish and feel on a floor spread with polished marble the color of the sand the palace lay on.

      Suddenly Farooq said, “Had we had more time, I would have turned over the ceremony to you. Judging by the success you made of the conference you arranged for me, with this place and every power at your disposal, you would have turned it into an event that would have become the stuff of new fables.”

      His seeming belief in her abilities sent her heart soaring. The images he provoked shot it down, rent and bloodied. Images of the whirlwind of preparations for a life- and world-changing event, the reign of her imagination and skills when freed from constrictions of budget and possibilities, of escalating excitement, of jitters of responsibility, of pride of achievement. Of anticipation of ecstasy …

      If-onlys cut off her breathing. She stumbled again.

      Again he kept her upright, kept talking as if he hadn’t crushed her with more futile dreams. “But with my uncle so frail, I wouldn’t have gone all-out even if we had the time. It’s for the best we didn’t.”

      They entered an elevator that seemed to be an extension of the hall, seemed not to move at all before the doors opened again. Into the past. Into the heart of Arabian Nights.

      He tugged her through a huge hall ringed with Arabian-style arches leading to the bowels of a palace within the palace.

      The incense fumes rising from mosaic burners hanging from the ceiling hit her compromised balance. He supported her, his touch deepening the dreamscape quality of it all as they passed the central arch through pleated damask drapes woven in rich-earth Berber/Moroccan patterns into a passage lined by sculpted-rock columns. At the base of each, an antique brass lantern blazed, giving the columns’ engravings the impact of incantations.

      She stared ahead as they approached massive cedar double doors worked in camel bone and silver that looked as if they’d been transported through millennia intact. They swung soundlessly open with a murmur and a touch from Farooq.

      Whoa. Holy voice recognition and fingerprint sensors!

      The feeling of stepping centuries both backward and forward in time intensified as they entered another hall with golden light radiating from henna sconces on warm sand-colored walls leading into gigantic living and dining areas interconnected by more arches. Many rooms lay hidden behind closed doors. The whole place, with its enormous proportions, its lavish yet tasteful decorations and furnishings with that incredible ethnic and ultramodern blend, redefined the laws of beauty and luxury.

      He led her into one of the living areas. A spherical, intricately fenestrated brass lantern hanging from the ceiling with spectacular chains lit the space. The starry canopy it created showcased the Egyptian mosaic, hand-carved furniture and the plush Moroccan-style couches. It also cascaded over Farooq, adding an unearthly effect to his beauty.

      Finding her eyes back on him, he said, “All the things you specified are here. If you need anything else, order it from Ameenah, your head lady-in-waiting. She’s Hashem’s wife. She’ll also get you acquainted with the mechanisms running the place, privacy, security, Internet and entertainment, to mention a few. I’ll give her a list of what needs to be done tomorrow. Tonight, relax, take a shower and have an early night. I want you well rested. Tomorrow is the biggest day of your life.”

      The last sentence rocked her. She turned her swaying into a bend to pick up a hand-woven silk brocade pillow, her tremors into interest over its intricate patterns.

      “So these are my and Mennah’s quarters?”

      He gave her a steady look. “These are my quarters. Ours now. Our bedroom suite is through this passageway.” He flicked a hand toward it before indicating the closed doors around them. “Pick one of these rooms to be Mennah’s, where your ladies-in-waiting can tend her when both of us are occupied.”

      “But I thought …” She couldn’t continue, couldn’t breathe. Just couldn’t.

      He gave her a serene look. “You thought … what?”

      She fought to the surface at his prodding, rasped, “I—I thought I’d have separate quarters.”

      “And how did you come by that thought?”

      Suddenly anger slammed into her. She grabbed at the strength it infused into her limbs, her voice. “I came by it because this isn’t a real marriage.”

      He smiled. As mirthless a smile as those got. “Oh, this is a real marriage. I’d say it’s far more real than any you’ve ever heard about. Notification of our belated marriage ceremony has made it to every embassy. During our flight I received the personal congratulations of every head of state on earth, and though it’s on such short-notice, the confirmation of attendance of four major powers’ presidents and a dozen kings and queens.”

      A stunned giggle escaped her. “That’s what you call not going all-out? Oh, man …”

      “All-out would have been having everyone here for ten days as the royal wedding proceedings unfold. Three days and nights of festivities ending in your henna night, and seven more of palace on national celebrations following the wedding. Having a ceremony after sunset with a banquet for two thousand or so, most of them the entourage of the dignitaries who can’t afford not to pay their respects to my king and me in person, is keeping it beyond simple. Everyone understands the reasons for that, though, what with us being ‘married’ already with a child, and with King Zaher not in the best of health.”

      God. This was too huge. Could he be pulling her leg?

      One look into his eyes told her he wasn’t. It was probably bigger than her malfunctioning mind could fathom at the moment.

      Which gave her hope. “So staying in your quarters is to keep up appearances, right?”

      His expression dulled with boredom. “If it pleases you to think that, by all means, go ahead.” The boredom evaporated as his pupils engulfed his irises like a black hole would the sun. “But СКАЧАТЬ