Hot Arabian Nights. Marguerite Kaye

mountain. A wide wooden ladder was affixed to the ground, dropping at a sharp angle into the black hole that was the mine shaft. ‘How far underground does it go?’ she asked, peering over the edge.

      ‘It is not so much deep as long,’ Azhar replied. ‘The tunnels spread for miles through the mountain. There is silver as well as gold here.’

      ‘How many men work below ground?’

      ‘There are two teams of fifteen. The conditions here are difficult as you can see, almost no plant life to interest you I am afraid. The men work for five days, then return to their village for five days to rest. Their oasis is almost another half-day’s travel from here. While they are here, they shelter in these huts,’ Azhar said pointing to a huddle of adobe shelters about a hundred yards away. ‘Come, I have arranged for us to meet the Overseer there.’

      * * *

      It was dusk once again, the end of a very long day as they neared the end of their return journey. ‘Is it the custom for men and women to take tea together as we did?’ Julia asked. ‘It was very hospitable of the Overseer’s wife to make the trip from her village simply to serve it. When you suggested she sit with us, she looked quite shocked, it made me wonder whether my presence at your side has been causing all manner of outrage.’

      ‘As a foreigner and my guest, I hope you feel you have been treated with the utmost respect throughout.’

      ‘And with a great deal of kindness too, but...’

      ‘But that does not answer your question,’ Azhar said. ‘It is not unusual, but in some households it is not common practice. I have not previously met the Overseer. By asking his wife to sit with us I was demonstrating that I respected and trusted him.’

      ‘And do you?’ Julia asked.

      Azhar nodded slowly. ‘What did you think?’

      ‘You said yourself that the yields from that gold mine are not an issue. In fact you said they had increased slightly in the last two years,’ Julia said. ‘I could only partially follow the conversation, but it seemed to me that when you mentioned the diamond mines, he looked quite uncomfortable.’

      ‘It could be because he knows that they are not so productive and does not wish to be seen to triumph.’

      ‘Yes, but it is more likely that he knows there is something wrong and is either afraid to mention it, or unwilling to voice unsubstantiated suspicions,’ Julia said.

      ‘Either way, it would be unfair of me to force the issue—and besides, rumour is not evidence.’

      ‘And you are now certain that you will find tangible evidence?’

      Azhar sighed heavily. ‘I fear so. The conflicting accounts of the Chief Overseer and the diamond miners do not square.’

      ‘What if it is the men who are stealing the diamonds?’

      ‘Not possible. They are searched as they leave the mine every night. No, it is the Chief Overseer, I am certain of it, but I have to be careful how I go about proving it. I don’t want to alert his suspicions.’

      Julia worried at her bottom lip. If Azhar truly thought that the Chief Overseer of the diamond mines was corrupt, then it would be an ideal opportunity for Kamal to demonstrate his authority. But what if the Chief Overseer was not the source of corruption, what if it went higher? That could only mean one thing.

      Her heart contracted. She couldn’t bear to think of what that would do to Azhar. While he had been out speaking to the returning gold miners this afternoon, the Overseer’s wife had managed to ask Julia rather diffidently when she planned to return to England, and if the Crown Prince intended to escort her. She seemed inexplicably relieved to hear of Julia’s plans to return so soon and alone. Thinking that the woman had mistakenly assumed her a possible bride for Azhar, she had gone to great pains to contradict her, and had been even more confused by the woman’s amusement. Now she wondered if what was as the root of her questions was simpler—a fear that their Prince, having been absent for ten years, might desert them again. Leaving another prince to be crowned, one whom they neither wanted nor respected.

      She knew she ought to tell Azhar of this conversation. She also knew it would be one more shovel full of sand dug from his grave, as he put it. Azhar had already had the benefit of her objective viewpoint in confirming one piece of bad news, she couldn’t bear to give him another. Besides, she could be wrong, couldn’t she? Her few words, their many hand gestures, she could have completely misinterpreted the whole thing.

      When the time came—if the subject came up—then she would come clean, she promised herself. But right now, what Azhar needed, and she wanted desperately, was for him to forget he was a prince, and to remember that he was a man.

      A man who could conjure this magical encampment into existence. Tonight, the lamps had been lit to welcome them. The fire had been re-laid. Julia pushed back her veil and slid down from her camel with a sigh of relief.

      ‘Azhar, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this enchanting place,’ she said. ‘Knowing we are coming back to such luxurious comfort at the end of a long day makes all the difference. It was very thoughtful of you.’

      ‘Julia, if I’m being complete honest my motivation was not entirely selfless,’ he replied. ‘I did not wish to share your company with anyone else.’

      ‘If that is the case, then I am afraid I am very selfish too,’ she replied, ‘since I feel exactly the same way.’

      ‘Are you fatigued, Julia?’

      ‘No, I...’

      ‘Sore from the saddle, perhaps?’ Azhar asked. ‘Tired, in limbs and body?’

      His smile was sinful. His sinfulness was infectious. ‘I think perhaps I am,’ Julia said.

      ‘Then go into the bathing tent, remove all of your clothes, and we will do something to remedy that.’

      * * *

      She assumed he intended for them to bathe together, since they had not done so the previous night, having become more than a little distracted. In the bathing tent, Julia lit the candles and hurriedly prepared herself, then equally hurriedly grabbed a clean drying cloth to cover her nudity. It was silly of her to be embarrassed, but she couldn’t bring herself to wait for him without any covering at all. Should she get into the water? He hadn’t said so, and she was under no obligation to do only what he asked, but—but she was most curious as to what he would request of her, so she gathered the thick cotton around her and sat on a velvet cushion.

      She did not have to wait for long. Azhar’s eyes lit up when he entered the tent and saw her, but he made no move to touch her, instead he threw off his cloak and headdress and hurriedly pulled off his boots before arranging several of the huge cushions together into a makeshift divan. ‘You look like the most delightful gift, waiting to be unwrapped. In a way, that is exactly what you are—a gift from the gods. May I unwrap you?’ he asked, leading her over to the mound of cushions.

      Blushing, she allowed him to remove the cloth, and was rewarded by Azhar’s sharp intake of breath. ‘You are quite, quite lovely,’ he said, running his hand slowly down her body, from her shoulder to her bottom. ‘Such delicate skin,’ he said, ‘like alabaster.’

      Azhar kissed her. She kissed him back. The touch of her tongue on his brought an instant response, making his member stir against her. It thrilled her, that instant response. Julia leaned in closer, brushing her breasts against his chest, and kissed him again.

      ‘Not yet,’ Azhar said, dragging his mouth away, turning her away from him, easing her on to the cushions. ‘Before we sate our desire, we must ease your aches and pains.’

      Julia lay on her tummy feeling extremely exposed and not a little confused. A rustling behind her told her that Azhar had removed his tunic. He moved her plait over her shoulder. Then he knelt down behind her and began to knead her shoulders. His hands were oiled. His touch was expert. The perfume in the oil began to suffuse