Hot Arabian Nights. Marguerite Kaye

did today,’ Azhar replied ruefully. ‘It was not my intention to offend the village women, but I did. You quite rightly pointed it out to me, for which I am most grateful.’

      ‘But the important thing is that you took steps to remedy the situation,’ Julia said. ‘I saw you talking to them.’ She went over to stand next to him, pulling open one of the long windows to let in the faint evening breeze. ‘You do care, no matter how much you deny it.’

      Azhar stepped out on to the terrace, indicating that she should follow. ‘It is incumbent upon me, Julia, to behave honourably, that is all.’

      ‘As a prince of royal blood, you mean?’

      ‘Yes, but also as a man.’

      ‘That, I would never doubt. You could easily have left me at the oasis, but your conscience would not let you, and for that I will always be eternally grateful. To the man, not the Prince.’

      It was dusk, and though they were in the middle of a palace, in the middle of a city, it was that time of the evening when a stillness, a silence fell over everything like a cloak. Azhar slid his arms around her, pulling her towards him. There were only a few layers of cotton and silk between them. His hand slid down to rest on the small of her back. ‘Julia?’

      Her stomach knotted. She ran her fingers through the short, soft silk of his hair. ‘Azhar?’

      ‘We are not on a camel now.’

      ‘No, we are most certainly not on a camel.’

      ‘So I wondered if it might be possible that the moment might be...’

      ‘Propitious?’

      ‘Precisely,’ Azhar said, dipping his head towards her ‘Very, very propitious. And very well chosen, in my humble opinion.’

      Her eyes drifted shut as his lips caressed hers, sending shivers of delight over her skin. He kissed her slowly, flattening his hand on her back to mould her to him as his lips shaped themselves to hers. He kissed her as if he was tasting her, as if he was savouring her. The combination of the twilight, the pent-up heat of the desert sun glowing on her skin, the alluring desert man holding her tightly against him, the seductive shimmer of her desert clothes, the persistent flicker of desire that had lingered all day waiting to be ignited, made her stomach flutter, and it made the blood sparkle in her veins. She ran her fingers up his back, relishing the sensation of fine silk rippling against the knot of his spine, and their kiss deepened. His tongue touched hers, and Julia let out an odd little sigh of delight. And then, as slowly as it had begun, the kiss ended, fluttering to a stop.

      Opening her eyes, Julia blinked. Was that the searing kiss she had speculated about when they were alone in the desert? She certainly felt hot, but perhaps there were different degrees of kisses. ‘I am even more glad than usual that we are not on a camel,’ she said. ‘I have never been kissed like that before. Thank you very much.’

      ‘Julia, you are most welcome. It was a pleasure, in every sense of the word.’ Azhar pressed his lips to her brow. ‘I must leave you. I am expected to dine with my brother, and then tomorrow I have urgent business which will keep me fully occupied for the next few days.’

      ‘The palace guards to sort out.’

      ‘Amongst other things. I discovered, from talking to the women at the oasis today, that there have been problems with the importing of some necessary supplies which need investigating, and there is an issue with certain traders at the souk which—but you will not be interested in these matters.’

      ‘I thought that you were leaving these matters to Kamal?’

      Azhar shrugged. ‘Trade is my business. It is simpler for me to take care of them.’

      Julia hid a smile. Impossible for him not to, more like. She wondered how long it would be before he wrested control from his brother. Definitely less than a month. ‘Do not worry about me,’ she said. ‘Between your beautiful garden and the oasis today, I have enough material to keep me busy for at least a week. Please don’t feel obliged to spend time with me.’

      ‘It is a pleasure, not an obligation, but if you are content to get on with your cataloguing, then we will agree to meet in the garden in three days’ time. I will have your maid bring you water to bathe.’

      ‘Thank you, after so long on that saddle that will be most welcome.’

      ‘Hot water can be most soothing for tired limbs and bodies.’ Azhar’s smile was wicked as he ran his hands down her back. As his fingers curled into her bottom, he let out a soft moan, and his smile faded as his lips found hers once more.

      She was left in no doubt this time. The kiss they shared was not only searing but carnal. There was no gentle introduction, no softness, this kiss was hard and dark and wild. His tongue tangled with hers. She bent back, opened her mouth to him, dug her fingers into his shoulders to steady herself as he pulled her tight against him. There could be no mistaking his arousal. The feel of him, rigid between her thighs, elicited an answering throb between hers. She curled her leg around him, surrendering to the urge to press herself closer and he groaned, kissing her harder, deeper, until she was forced to drag her mouth away in order to breathe.

      His breathing too was ragged. For a long moment they stared, dazed, into eyes dark with desire. The strength of her passion took her aback. All of a sudden, she remembered Daniel’s horrified look that night, under another foreign sky. Mortified, Julia started to disentangle herself. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ve never—I did not mean to—I don’t know what came over me.’

      ‘The same feeling which came over me, I hope.’ Azhar caught her as she turned away, forcing her to face him. ‘Passion. In my culture it is recognised as a perfectly natural and healthy appetite, and has been for millennia. There is nothing to apologise for or reproach yourself about, Julia.’

      ‘There’s not? Only I thought that—I thought that a woman—such a lack of restraint, it was...’

      ‘It was quite intoxicating.’

      ‘You mean you’re not shocked?’

      ‘Shocked! In the name of all that is sacred, what kind of a man was your husband? No, do not answer that, I have already a very good idea.’ Azhar smoothed her hair back from her brow. ‘There is nothing more effective in igniting a man’s desire than a woman’s passion. To see the fire in your eyes, to feel the fire in your blood as you touch me, it sets me on fire too. Do you imagine I would prefer to kiss a woman who responds only with—with compliance? No, I would not. No red-blooded man would. Never apologise for passion. Restraint, Julia, has no place in lovemaking.’ Azhar kissed her briefly once more on the mouth. ‘I am now officially late. Enjoy your bath. My only regret is that I cannot share it with you.’

      ‘Azhar!’

      He laughed. ‘My English rose. So easily shocked. There is much you might learn of the East before you leave. You have only to ask. I am not without expertise in this field.’

      ‘Cornish,’ she called after him, ‘I’m a Cornish rose if I’m any kind of rose.’ But he merely laughed again, grabbing his headdress from the couch before closing the door to her apartment softly behind him.

      Not without expertise. The meaning was far beyond Julia’s ken, but that did not prevent a shiver of longing to course through her. The notion of herself as pupil to Azhar in the arts of love was a sinfully delicious one. It seemed this new Julia was brazen as well as different.

      * * *

      Two days later, Julia set down her brush with a sigh of satisfaction and stretched out her arms. She had almost finished the specimens she had taken from the Oasis of the Red Rock and the Tumbling Waterfall. She wished she could remember how to pronounce the name in Arabic, but though she could hear the word in her head as Azhar had said it, she could not reproduce it.

      Setting this last painting aside to dry, she made for the terrace where Aisha had left a jug of lemon sherbet, careful to push the curtains back in place to protect her precious