Modern Romance July 2018 Books 5-8 Collection. Annie West

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      A raised palm stopped her words and she shivered, realising she’d been about to argue with the man who held not only her fate, but her nation’s, in his palm. Her aunt had been right. Lina needed to curb her tongue.

      ‘I don’t keep a harem and when I want a woman it will never be someone forced to attend me.’

      A shiver rolled through her, pulling her flesh tight. In that instant she was sucked straight back to those long nights of terror, waiting to be called before the Emir, to do whatever he commanded.

      Yet now Lina felt that, if this man smiled and spoke to her in the smoky, caressing tone he’d used a few minutes earlier, she’d go to him willingly. She might be nervous about learning first-hand about sex, but her shimmy of excitement hinted she’d be avid to learn if Sayid Badawi taught her.

      The realisation stopped her tongue.

      ‘However,’ he said, his voice serious, ‘you’re now my responsibility. I can’t send you back to your family, since they treated you so badly.’ His eyes flashed and, despite his even tone, she realised he was very, very angry. With her aunt and uncle? The grim line of his jaw accentuated the heavy beat of a pulse in his throat and she was struck with the idea they would suffer for bundling her off here.

      Lina felt her eyes grow round and her mouth sag open. She knew because she’d overheard them speaking, that her aunt and uncle believed sending her to the palace would not only remove her from their sons but gain them favour with the Emir.

      The old Emir. Not the new one. Sayid Badawi was not cut from the same cloth as his uncle.

      ‘Given the circumstances in which you arrived, you can’t stay in the palace. People would misconstrue your...role.’

      Lina wasn’t exactly sure what misconstrue meant. She assumed the Emir didn’t want people believing she was his concubine.

      After all, she was nothing but an uneducated provincial. Even a woman as inexperienced as Lina understood that this man, with his power, wealth and chiselled looks would have his pick of stunning women. He’d only have to click his fingers and they’d flock to him like doves to grain.

      Why, he probably already had a lover, perhaps secreted here in the palace.

      Heat flushed Lina’s cheeks as she remembered where her mind had wandered last night as she’d thought about the Emir, his kindness and his charisma. His cedar wood and bitter orange scent that made her feel curiously giddy. That zing of awareness when she touched him.

      Of course he had a woman. It was ridiculous to think he’d ever want someone like her. Someone who didn’t even know how to hold a book the right way up!

      ‘I’ve decided to treat you as my ward.’

      ‘Your ward?’ She looked up and found herself snared by dark-as-night eyes. Another tiny shiver scudded down her spine.

      ‘I will be responsible for you until you can make your own way in the world.’

      Slowly Lina nodded, biting down a question about how she was meant to do that when she only had domestic training.

      ‘Like an uncle,’ he added, as if to clarify.

      Lina blinked. Anyone less like an uncle she couldn’t imagine. He was far too young for a start. Closer to her age than her uncle’s. Besides, she couldn’t imagine what she felt for the Emir was at all appropriate between niece and uncle.

      ‘You understand?’

      Did he think her dim-witted because she couldn’t read the words in his precious books?

      ‘Yes.’ She clasped her hands before her. ‘You will act as my guardian.’

      ‘Precisely.’ He nodded, then sat back in his chair as if pleased that point was understood. ‘Now what would you like to do?’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘What would you like for the future?’

      Lina tried not to gape and probably failed.

      No one ever, in her whole life, had asked what she wanted her future to be. It had always been assumed that her father would find her a suitable husband and she’d devote herself to looking after him and the family they’d have. Or, if her aunt were to be believed, she’d become a dancing girl or worse, pandering to the desires of men.

      The enormity of the question stole her voice.

      Eventually he spoke again. ‘You must have some desire. Some dream.’

      Suddenly Lina remembered those childish hopes she’d once harboured. Hopes encouraged by the foreign archaeologists who’d worked for years near her home. They’d been entertained in her house when she was young, and, to her delight, there had even been women archaeologists. Lina had spent years tagging along behind them, before she was considered too old for such freedoms.

      ‘Lina? What is it you want?’ That deep voice yanked her back to the present.

      The foolishness of those old hopes hit her anew. She could never do what she’d dreamed. And yet, here she was, sitting with the man who ruled Halarq, a man who’d brought peace to her nation, and he was asking her what she desired. Asking. Surely anything was possible here with this extraordinary man?

      ‘I want to learn,’ she said before she lost her nerve. ‘To read and go to classes and find out about the world.’ Her throat constricted at the daring of what she asked but she hurried on. ‘And I want to visit France and America.’

      There. It was out. Her breath came in rough little pants and her fingers trembled against the carved wooden arms of the chair. She knew she’d been too daring. But she’d been unable to resist.

      ‘Why those countries?’ Instead of berating her for not requesting something sensible, like an apprenticeship to a seamstress, the Emir leaned forward as if curious. ‘It would be hard when you don’t speak the language.’

      ‘But I do!’ She beamed at him. ‘At least I used to. I spent time with the foreigners digging up the past in the old city ruins beyond my town. I have a good memory and they said I’m quick with languages.’

      Clearly he wasn’t convinced. Yet nor did he dismiss her claim. Instead he sat in brooding silence, his elbows on the desk and fingers steepled beneath his chin.

      Lina barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing him as time stretched from seconds into long minutes.

      ‘Very well.’ Finally he sat back. A smile skated across his face and Lina caught her breath. In repose his face was serious yet handsome. But when he smiled it felt like angels danced in her soul.

      ‘I won’t promise America or France, but I can give you the opportunity to learn.’ He paused as if considering. ‘My secretary will arrange a teacher. If, by the end of a week, that teacher confirms you’re working hard and willing to learn, you will have the opportunity to go to school.’

      Excitement was the buzz of a thousand bees in her bloodstream. ‘Sir, I can’t thank you enough. I—’

      His raised hand СКАЧАТЬ