The Sultan's Harem Bride. Annie West

      ‘It’s that important to you?’

      She nodded. More than he could know. What had begun as an interesting idea for the future had become her lifeline, her only option. And one final homage to her friend.

      ‘Please.’ He gestured and Jacqui stared, discovering they’d reached the spacious courtyard outside her suite. ‘Take a seat.’ He led the way to a pair of comfortable looking chairs in the garden.

      Jacqui hesitated. ‘I really should—’

      ‘I’d like to talk to you.’ He stood, a commanding figure bathed in moonlight. It gleamed on the fine fabric of his clothes and turned his eyes to a dark glitter.

      Instinct warned against a tête à tête in the darkness. But he was her host. She was indebted to him. She couldn’t walk away.

      Reluctantly she stepped from the lit passageway and took a seat, struggling to sit upright when the cushions invited her to lounge. He sat turned half towards her, half towards the long pool that shimmered invitingly.

      Silence surrounded them.

      ‘I’m curious,’ he said at last. ‘Why would a woman like you embark on this particular project?’

      ‘A woman like me?’ She strove to keep the indignation from her voice. What was he accusing her of now?

      His reluctance to have her here, his hawk-like scrutiny of her research and her daily guard proved he didn’t trust the press. But she’d hoped she’d allayed his concerns and he’d begun to trust her a little.