of attraction.
Asim shook his head, fed up with his circling thoughts. It was time.
He knocked but didn’t enter. Better to be sure she was decently covered. The door swung inwards.
‘You!’ Those stunning eyes widened and it struck him again how fragile she looked. Was that real or some trick?
Asim stepped inside and she shifted back.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘You surprised me. I expected one of the servants.’
Is that why she was dressed in drab trousers and a navy top that leached the colour from her face? She wore no make-up and had pulled her hair back in a ponytail.
And still arousal beat low in his belly.
He frowned. Just because he’d seen this woman naked didn’t mean he was going to have her in his bed, no matter what his body wanted. He had more sense than to hook up with a journalist. After what had happened to Samira, how could he? Besides, his women were always poised, polished and beautifully dressed, at least to begin with.
Jacqueline Fletcher was...no; not ordinary. Not with those eyes or that mouth. But nor was she sophisticated.
‘It’s after one a.m. Why wake someone when I can lead the way?’ Besides, he intended to keep a personal eye on her.
He scanned the neatly made bed then picked up the single suitcase and laptop bag. She travelled light. His sister had arrived with more than half a dozen cases, probably full of shoes. ‘Is this all?’
‘Yes, but I’ll take the laptop.’ She reached out but at a look from him her arm fell.
Why so eager to take the computer? Because she had something there she didn’t want him to see or simply a journalist’s instinct to protect the tool of her trade? Suspicion stirred anew.
‘I can just about manage them both.’ He nodded to the door. ‘After you.’
She moved with a grace that belied tiredness or nerves. Baggy trousers hid her slender curves but his mind filled the blanks.
Asim turned off the lamp and followed. In the dim corridor it took a moment for his eyes to adjust but he sensed when he reached her. His nostrils twitched as the sweet tang of her perfume reached him. Something fruity and light that made him think of summer.
‘I’ll lead. Just watch your step. The old tiles are uneven.’
Silently she fell into step.
His mouth quirked. Who’d have thought this woman could be so biddable?
On the other hand, there’d been something curiously refreshing about the way she’d continued to argue her case after he’d stated his decision. Maybe Imran had been right and he was too used to getting his own way now he’d been Sultan so long.
His cousin had liked her, he recalled with a pang that crushed his smile.
‘Where are we going?’ Her long legs stretched to match his stride. Automatically he eased his pace.
‘To a guest apartment where you won’t be disturbed.’ More to the point, she wouldn’t have a chance to disturb anyone else.
‘I’m very grateful for you taking the time to see me settled.’ She was like a prim little girl reciting polite words she’d been taught.
If only she knew. Asim took her personally to her new accommodation because he didn’t trust her. As soon as he had her installed he’d call security to ensure she didn’t indulge in any night-time prowling. He refused to compromise Samira’s safety.
‘Is it in a modern part of the palace?’
‘Yes, completed in the last ten years.’ When he’d become ruler his one indulgence had been to build a suite of modern rooms for his own use and that of his private guests. The apartments his parents had used were too full of memories he’d rather forget.
‘That will be...nice.’
Asim shot her a glance. ‘They’re very comfortable.’
‘I’m sure they are.’ She didn’t sound enthused.
‘But? There’s a “but” in there.’
‘Of course not.’ He waited. Finally she added, ‘It’s just that I barely had time to explore the old rooms and they were so beautiful. That wall painting, for instance, with the climbing roses and the birds. It was magnificent.’
Curiosity stirred. ‘You would like to stay in a place like that? Beautiful but cut off from the world?’ It wasn’t what he expected.
Moonlight lit her features as they passed through another courtyard. She looked serious, as if considering. ‘It has a certain appeal. I’d enjoy it...for a while. But I’m a modern woman. Seclusion would lose its charm and I’d end up feeling trapped with nothing to do.’
‘The women who lived there kept busy.’
She turned. ‘Pleasing the Sultan? Being available to meet his every need?’
Despite himself Asim’s lips twitched. She sounded almost prudish as she skated over the issue of sex.
‘You’ve been reading too much fiction. It wasn’t just the lord’s wife or lover who lived there, but all his female relatives.’
He gestured for her to precede him into a corridor illuminated by glowing wall lights. Modern marble flooring replaced worn tiles underfoot.
‘According to family tradition, that’s why my ancestors were so warlike and successful in battle. It gave them an outlet for their frustrations since their female relatives tried to rule the roost at home.’
She slowed and he stopped, turning. Pale before, her face was animated now, delicate colour highlighting regular features. Even her lips looked plumper, rosier.
‘There are two sides to every truth. I bet your male ancestors wouldn’t have given up the freedom to ride across their kingdom, pick fights with their neighbours and grow rich from trade and war even if it meant living a life of domestic bliss. And as for the right to take the most beautiful girl in the kingdom as their own—’
Asim raised his hand. ‘I see you’ve done your homework.’ He shrugged. ‘What can I say? Men will be men.’ In his family, particularly so. Marauders, warriors and rulers, they had a reputation for fierceness as well as for honour and their impeccable taste in women.
He looked down into wide, seductive eyes and for an instant knew sharp regret that those old days had gone. A hundred years ago he’d have been within his rights to clap an intrusive journalist in irons rather than risk her reporting private family matters.
But he wouldn’t have kept Jacqueline Fletcher in a dungeon. He’d have had her in one of those rooms adorned with murals of paradise. The bonds around her wrists would have been silk...
Suddenly she stepped back, her expression wary, as if she read his mind.
Asim blinked and refocused, stunned at his thoughts.
‘Not far now,’ he murmured, leading the way again.
What had come over him? He’d seen his share of naked women. Some would say more than his share. In his youth sex had been one of his favourite things. It still was, but these past months he’d exercised abstinence, distracted by Samira’s problems and the need to finalise the agreement that had been signed tonight.
Maybe that was the problem. Once he’d have celebrated such a significant coup in the arms of a delectable woman. Instead he found himself guarding an unwanted intruder. An intruder with none of the glamorous allure he was used to, yet who provoked lurid thoughts of her naked and responsive in his bed.
He opened the tall entrance door to the Sultan’s apartments.
He’d keep Jacqueline Fletcher from his sister. If she decided to wander she’d have to get