The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12. Кейт Хьюит

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       CHAPTER FIVE

      IN THE vast royal dining chamber Kaliq lay back on a heap of embroidered cushions, wearing robes which shimmered like spun gold beneath the guttering light of tall candles. On a low table before him stood a heavy goblet which he looked as if he were about to lift, when he looked up and saw her.

      And in that split second Eleni forgot why she was there and why she found herself in such an extraordinary situation. Forgot everything—including her sanity—as her heart did a curious flip. Ebony eyes glittered as they stared at her and a mouth which must surely define sin itself quirked into a mocking kind of smile. For a moment she felt so faint, so weak, so utterly awed by his royal presence that she was grateful that protocol demanded she curtsey to him. But her cheeks were still flushed when she straightened up again.

      Kaliq hadn’t moved; he hadn’t dared to—for the arrow of desire had made a stiff rod to lie aching at his groin. One of his ancestors might well have snapped his fingers and called her over to pleasure him with her mouth, but such behaviour was no longer approved of within royal circles—even in Calista. He sighed. It had been a dark day when his stepmother Anya had first brought some sort of equality to the women of this island!

      ‘Well, well, well,’ he murmured. ‘Let me look at you.’

      ‘Highness?’

      ‘Stand there.’

      Kaliq’s mouth hardened as his gaze swept over her. In many ways it was not a promising appearance. She had tied back that magnificent mane of hair like a schoolgirl and her face remained scrubbed free of all artifice. Not only that, but she had chosen possibly the most neutral shade of all—when most women with colouring like hers would have opted for something vibrant. Something green and lush to echo the colour of her incredible eyes.

      And yet it really was extraordinary how she had emerged like a Venus from the waves now that all the desert dust had been washed away from her grimy little face. The rough clothes favoured by her people had been replaced by a fine silk which accentuated the fine curves of her fit and youthful body. Why, his little lizard looked almost beautiful!

      He shifted his position so that the ache at his groin grew slightly more bearable.

      ‘I believe that this is what they would call the “makeover”,’ he observed.

      Eleni blinked. ‘I do not understand what you mean, Highness.’

      ‘No. I don’t suppose you do.’ His eyes glittered with mischief. ‘In the west, women sometimes take their clothes off for the television cameras—have you ever seen television, lizard?’

      ‘Once,’ she admitted. It had been a crackly old set hung on the wall of a café near to where she and her father had taken Nabat to race and she had not been very impressed with the raucous game-show which had had most of the other customers screaming with laughter.

      ‘And did you like it?’ he demanded.

      ‘Not particularly, Highness, no.’

      ‘Those in the west are addicted to it,’ Kaliq observed wryly. ‘And allow the cameras to take many liberties with their lives. These women in the makeover programmes allow other women to poke their naked flesh and tell them what to wear.’

      Despite her disapproval that the sheikh should have been watching such a programme, Eleni couldn’t help herself. ‘Please,’ she protested. ‘You must not joke with me, Highness!’

      ‘But I do not joke.’ A mocking smile curved at his lips but the chauvinist within him silently applauded her entirely predictable reaction and the fact that she made no attempt to hide her rather prudish disapproval. How rare it was to find an unsophisticated woman—particularly for a man who moved within such rarefied social circles and globe-trotted as often as Kaliq did. He had only recently returned from Argentina—where he had been playing hard and fast on the polo field.

      Afterwards, he had flown on to Rio where he had played even harder in the arms of a lover who was always exclusively available for him whenever he wanted her to be. And sometimes it was easier to take up with a woman you already knew than have to go through the mind-numbing motions of getting to know someone new.

      The lady in question had possessed a dynamite body which she had delighted in flaunting. He found himself remembering her spectacular breasts, shown off in all their glory by the side of a swimming pool—and the pert thrust of her buttocks barely concealed by a shiny scarlet thong.

      But although Kaliq was as appreciative of beauty and sexuality as the next man—wasn’t there something deliciously refreshing about this young woman’s genuine shock and outrage? His eyes flicked over her pink cheeks and pale green eyes. As well as something deliciously pleasing. His brows narrowed into a thoughtful look. What would she be like in his bed? he wondered idly. Would she be outraged at some of the things he would like to do to her—or would she embrace them with as much skill as she showed in the saddle?

      He patted the cushions beside him. ‘Come. Sit. You will eat.’

      ‘Eat? You mean, here?’ Eleni swallowed. ‘With you?’

      ‘But of course.’ He glimmered her a smile. ‘We must discuss my plans for the horses and there is no reason why we should not do so in comfort.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘Please do not argue with me,’ he drawled, though his tone was emphatic. ‘The first time you express a doubt I might find it tolerable—but repeat it and it will quickly become tedious. Do you understand?’

      Oh, she understood, all right. Spoilt, jaded sheikh used to getting his own way at all times! But Eleni kept her face impassive as she nodded. ‘Yes, Highness.’

      His black eyes were glittering like jet as he pointed at the cushions and, although Eleni felt as if her limbs had been turned into marble, somehow she managed to walk over and sit down beside him. For what choice did she have when the sheikh had commanded it? Tell him that she’d rather be eating with the other servants in the kitchen as she had last night? That no morsel of food would ever be able to pass her lips in his daunting presence?

      As if on cue, servant after servant began to noiselessly appear, carrying plates of exquisite food—some of which Eleni had never seen before, let alone tasted. Alongside the usual meat curry there was rare fish from the waters of the Kordela river, and jewel-bright fruits laid out on gleaming platters of pure gold. There were nuts and sweets, too—of such a variety that were usually СКАЧАТЬ