Читать книгу The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12 - Кейт Хьюит, Шантель Шоу - Страница 32

ELENI quickly learned that if a royal sheikh did not wish to speak to you, then there was little point in trying to pursue a conversation with him. And that a royal sheikh certainly never considered that he needed to explain his behaviour.

So that last night, when she had turned to Prince Kaliq to ask him what on earth he meant by proposing to take her to Europe—he had simply waved his hand in an arrogant gesture of dismissal. And then his retinue had arrived as if he had sent out some silent summons—before the whole lot of them had disappeared in a swish of glimmering robes.

Leaving Eleni to make her way back to her room and spend the night tossing and turning in her soft palace bed while her mind spun with possibilities and confusion.

Europe he had said. Had he been playing some kind of joke on her? What possible reason could there be to go into a faraway region she had only seen represented on the pages of her geography books? Frowning, she tried to remember—but geography had seemed a pointless subject to embrace when she had known that she was unlikely ever to leave the shores of Calista. Was Madrid the capital of Spain, or was that Barcelona? she wondered. And was England the country which looked like a resting grasshopper?

Despite her restless night, she was up at dawn to muck out and exercise Nabat, and rode him long and hard over the gallops—and the wind in her face briefly blew away all her worries. Once she’d fed him, she poured herself some of the strong coffee which one of the stable lads brought out. Then she took the tin mug and a large orange and went and sat on a low wall overlooking the gallops, watching the sun rising over the distant mountains while she peeled and ate the fruit.

At first she didn’t hear the footfall behind her, so lost was she in thought. In fact, it wasn’t until a silky voice said her name that she jumped—her mouth so full of orange that for a moment she couldn’t speak as she scrambled down off the wall to face Kaliq.

Today, he was wearing his traditional flowing robes—so at least she was spared the distracting sight of his jodhpurs—and his dark gaze was mocking as it swept over her in swift assessment.

Kaliq’s mouth twisted. Her braided hair was escaping its ribbons—presumably because she’d been out on her horse—and she was again wearing those drab riding clothes. Her green eyes dominated her bare face and yet her full mouth was shiny and sticky from the fruit she was eating. No woman could have looked more unexpectedly provocative, he thought achingly—and yet no woman of his acquaintance would have been quite so oblivious to that fact.

‘Good morning, Eleni,’ he said silkily. ‘Did you sleep well?’

She managed a curtsey. ‘Good morning, Highness,’ she said, ignoring his question for fear of where it might lead.

‘How’s Nabat?’

‘He is truly contented in his new home,’ she said truthfully.

‘I saw one of the lads petting him just now.’ He saw her start and a sardonic smile curved his lips. ‘Calm down, lizard—you won’t be doing the creature any favours if you try to make him completely dependent on you.’

‘But he is!’

‘That’s not true and you know it. He favours you,’ he admitted slowly. ‘And he always will. But give him a bucket of oats and a clean stable and he will be a happy horse.’ His black eyes studied her. ‘Because he’s going to have to get used to being without you for a few days. Remember what I said to you last night?’

Eleni shook her head, trying to dispel the imagery his question had produced. He had said and done a lot of things last night and every single one of them made her feel uncomfortable when she thought about them this morning. ‘Highness, no,’ she whispered.

‘You are surely not objecting to your sheikh taking you to Europe? Why, most women would give up everything they owned for such an opportunity,’ he murmured, enjoying watching her struggle with her emotions until she could contain them no more.

‘I cannot come to Europe with you, Highness,’ she breathed.

‘Why not?’

‘Because… because it would not be proper.’

‘Proper?’ he echoed.

Unable to see the trap he was setting for her, Eleni nodded. ‘Surely it would give rise to gossip, Highness.’

Dark eyebrows were elevated in mocking query. ‘You are perhaps concerned with the sleeping arrangements, while I think only of horses—ah, but how swiftly our roles have been reversed, lizard. You think that my subjects will imagine that the Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi lies with his stable girl?’

Eleni felt the beginnings of a blush begin to flare at her face. Put like that it did sound laughable. ‘I did not mean—’

‘It is not your place to tell me what is proper. It is not your place to tell me anything. And I am not asking you to come with me to Europe, I am commanding you!’ he snapped. ‘As it happens, there is a polo pony in England which I’m thinking of buying to bring back to the club here. And I want your advice.’

‘But—’ Eleni swallowed down the word and looked down at the ground, furious now. How dared he take liberties with her last night on his embroidered cushions and this morning snap at her to accompany him to England as if she were some kind of lapdog!

‘But what, Eleni?’

Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze, wondering if her anger had completely disappeared—though part of her didn’t care if he saw it. ‘Nothing, Highness.’

He noted the sparks which were spitting from the pistachio eyes. ‘No. I want to know.’

‘I thought it was not my place to offer an opinion,’ she offered.

Kaliq’s eyes narrowed. Was she mocking him? No, of course not. She wouldn’t dare. ‘Tell me,’ he instructed silkily.

‘I know nothing about polo ponies.’

‘Maybe not, but you have an instinct about horses—a sound instinct which I trust.’ His eyes narrowed into ebony shards of jet. ‘You should not have showed off quite so much on my stallion yesterday if you did not wish me to capitalise on your expertise. The horse for sale is one of the most expensive in the world—and I want you to use that instinct to tell me whether or not I should buy him.’

She wanted to point out that he had only just acquired a horse—Nabat—so why on earth was he looking to buy another? But, of course, Nabat was not an experienced polo pony—he just happened to be a race-winner among his own particular Arabian breed. And she knew that Kaliq had invested much of his own personal fortune in modernising the polo club on Calista—so presumably he needed to build up a winning stable of his own.

Eleni suddenly recognised that, as well as royal princes being spoiled by possessions and wealth, here was a man with a very low threshold of boredom. One horse was never enough—why, give him a hundred horses and he would probably still seek the one he did not have! And even if his polo club became the most famous in the world—that would probably fail to satisfy him, too.

If she’d had the freedom to speak her mind then she might have told him so, and to hell with the consequences. Even if he kicked her off the royal land—then surely she could find herself some sort of gainful employment to put bread in her mouth.

But as well as being fearful of launching out on her own—in a world where she had always been relatively protected—she would also have to leave Nabat behind. No, she was trapped in this bizarre situation as surely as the wounded hare over which the falcon circled…

And then she remembered some of the things the sheikh had said to her last night—when he hadn’t been kissing her. She remembered the fierce, harsh look of pain which had momentarily transformed his face into a bitter mask and she felt herself melt in spite of her misgivings. Had the tragic loss of his brother and the subsequent guilt made him into the man he was today? A man who did not really know what it was he was looking for? And should she not take that into account when dealing with him—for surely there could be a corner of kindness in her heart for this privileged and yet wounded man?

‘I do not have a passport,’ said Eleni primly, and Kaliq threw his dark head back, and laughed.

‘You think that is going to be a problem for the companion of a sheikh?’ he drawled.

‘No, I suppose not,’ she agreed. But she wanted to ask him if he didn’t ever wish that it was. Didn’t he ever yearn for the constraints and problems of the ordinary person?

‘Your passport will be arranged,’ he said silkily and his eyes roved lazily over her. ‘But you will need clothing more suited to the West.’

Protectively, Eleni’s hand strayed to her well-worn riding top. ‘I appreciate that this would be unsuitable—but you have already provided me with an extensive wardrobe of fine clothes, for which I thank you, Highness. And I promise that from now on I shall wear them all the time—’

‘But you might wish to wear different clothes in Europe,’ he said bluntly.

‘Do you?’ she challenged.

He laughed. ‘No, I do not—but I am the sheikh who can behave however he wishes, and you are nothing but a stable girl. The world of polo in Europe is quite unlike anything you will have ever dreamed of, Eleni. You will be moving among some of the wealthiest and most cosseted women in the world, and perhaps would prefer to blend in. Dress like that and you will be patronised.’

Eleni shook her head in denial. ‘The attitude of other women will not concern me,’ she said proudly. ‘For I am a decent Calistan woman, and I cannot show my flesh in public!’

‘And you will not,’ he agreed. ‘But there are more alluring ways of covering your body than by wearing these traditional garments. Oh, and, Eleni?’

‘Highness?’

‘Let us be very clear on one thing. You may be decent and you are certainly from Calista and you may look like a woman, but you are not one yet.’ He paused. ‘You are still a girl,’ he added softly.

How stupid could she have been not to have interpreted the gleaming light of intent in his black eyes as he uttered these somehow damning words? Or seen the hand which snaked out like a cobra to snare her and bring her crushing up against him?

And despite the loose-fitting silken garment he wore—Eleni could feel every sinew and hard muscle beneath, almost as if, as if…

‘Yes,’ he said softly as he saw the colour begin to rise in her cheeks and felt the sudden change as her body stiffened with awareness. ‘Did you not know that royal princes do not like to be constrained? I am naked beneath my robes!’

‘Highness!’ It was as if he had read her thoughts. Oh, but she prayed that he couldn’t! Because then he might get some kind of inkling of how… how… exciting she found his embrace. How tantalising she found his closeness.

Dizzily, she swayed, aware of some raw and heady scent coming from his warm male body and, despite her total lack of experience with the opposite sex, she knew enough to realise that this was desire, pure and simple. And didn’t she feel an answering desire—as memories of his sweet kiss filled her body with longing?

He brought his lips up close to her ear and his breath was warm, too. Warm and as enticing as a soft, summer breeze and she gave a sigh.

‘Ah, Eleni,’ he said softly. ‘Shall I dismiss the stable staff and take you over to a quiet corner and make you into a woman here and now? Believe me, you will never get a better offer. Your sheikh showing you all the pleasures of the body which are all there, just for the taking. Just slide your hand up underneath my robe and feel how hard I am for you.’

‘Highness!’ she gasped.

‘Was that supposed to be a protest?’ he taunted silkily as his mouth moved down to graze along the slim column of her neck. ‘Because if so, you need to put a little more feeling into it to convince me.’

‘I… I… Her throat was so parched that the sounds she made sounded like a dry leaf being crunched underfoot. Just kiss me, she thought—even though she despised herself for wanting it. Just please kiss me the way you did last night.

Sensing her longing, Kaliq was tempted to take her. To have done with the hunger and, by so doing, to rid himself of it. But it would be a bore to have to first clear the stable—and it would be bound to incite talk among the staff, no matter how much they feared the consequences of idle chatter. And while he was often the subject of gossip and careless of it—he recognised that a quick coupling with the stable girl might be going just a little too far. He was reckless, yes—but he was not completely stupid.

He loosened his grip slightly—not letting her go completely because he realised that she might actually faint. A woman fainting in his arms—yet another of his fantasies come true! For a moment a passion so sweet and so intensely powerful coursed through his veins that his resolve was severely tested.

But surely it would be much easier to have his way with her in Europe—where sexual freedom was taken for granted? He could enjoy her sweet, virginal body—and give her the heady experience he had promised. No one would know—even if they did, who would particularly care? And afterwards he could dismiss her and make sure that she was set up for life. She would have memories of bliss to keep her warm during the long, harsh nights of winter.

‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, lizard,’ he drawled.

Eleni looked up at him and bit her bottom lip. ‘Why do you call me lizard?’

His mouth curved. ‘Because your eyes are so green and you move almost without seeming to and with such supple grace.’ He lifted his hand and cupped her chin in his palm. ‘And because you are very quick.’

There was a breathless moment where he could see her face glow—clearly flattered at the nickname—and so she should be. Take her now, he thought urgently, and then he looked up to see Abdul-Aziz walking across the stable yard towards them and abruptly Kaliq let Eleni go with an impatient sigh.

It was the first time he had seen his aide since he’d returned from the neighbouring island of Aristo, where he had represented Kaliq at the funeral of King Aegeus.

‘So how goes the great fight for the succession of the dead king?’ asked Kaliq, even though in his heart he did not care—for the rivalries between the two royal families of Calista and Aristo had tainted the history of the two islands for many long years.

Abdul-Aziz’s gaze flickered uncertainly to Eleni, who was still standing there, waiting to be dismissed.

‘Do not worry, she is loyal,’ said Kaliq and Eleni hated herself for the fierce feeling of pleasure which those simple words of praise produced.

Abdul-Aziz gave a bow. ‘The succession is by no means certain, Highness.’

‘Prince Sebastian is eager to inherit, is he not?’ mocked Kaliq. ‘Ah, but ambition makes such vultures of men. How happy I am not to have dynastic ambition ruling my life!’

‘Indeed, Highness,’ said Abdul-Aziz, with another small bow. ‘Would you care to hear a report of how the day went?’

‘You think that I am interested in all the family feuding?’ Kaliq murmured, but Abdul-Aziz was looking especially solemn and so he made an impatient gesture with his hand. ‘Oh, very well, let us return to the palace and you can tell me all about it.’ He shot a quick glance at Eleni. ‘Oh, and by the way, Aziz—my new stable girl is to accompany me to England to look at that polo horse I was telling you about.’

Abdul-Aziz started. ‘Accompany you?’

‘That’s what I said,’ drawled Kaliq.

‘But, Highness—’

Black eyes pierced through the aide like twin ebony swords. ‘But what, Aziz?’ he echoed silkily. ‘You think that tongues will wag?’

‘Well, yes, Highness.’

‘Then let them—because only the tails of dogs and horses are meant for wagging! And I am taking the girl with me—that is the beginning and the end of the matter. We will leave by jet in the morning, do you understand?’

His face impassive, Abdul-Aziz nodded with the resignation of one who had spent their life taking orders from resolute rulers and Eleni found herself wondering how he could bear never to be able to answer back. ‘Yes, Highness.’

‘Good. Then please arrange it.’

And, giving Eleni one last mocking look, Kaliq swept from the stable yard, leaving her staring after him with a fast-beating heart and a mass of mixed emotions.