The Sultan's Harem Bride. Annie West

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 past him first then his guards. Besides, he couldn’t have left her far from anyone after that nightmare. Its trauma had been obvious.

      Asim remembered Samira’s frantic nightmares years ago when their parents’ love-hate relationship had see-sawed violently. After screaming rows and smashing china, was it any wonder his kid sister had had bad dreams? She’d been weak and frightened afterwards.

      No, he was doing the right thing, securing this woman close.

      ‘This way.’ He walked through the atrium and into a colonnade that ran beside his favourite courtyard.

      ‘This is stunning.’ She stopped to stare. ‘Absolutely breath-taking.’

      Asim followed her gaze. Trees offered shade during the day and the end of the courtyard was taken up by a long swimming pool, illuminated by underwater lights that showed off its aquamarine tiles. Concealed lighting above emphasised the decoratively carved arches of the colonnade, lending a traditional air.

      ‘I’m glad you approve. I had a hand in the design.’

      He ushered her through a door into a private sitting room.

      ‘Oh my. It’s...’

      Asim strode ahead into the bedroom and put her case down. ‘Too modern?’

      He turned to find her standing in the middle of the room, eyes alight and a hint of a curve on her lips.

      His pulse quickened. What effect would a full-blown smile have? He killed the thought, feeling as if it was a betrayal of his cousin.

      She shook her head, turning to take in the airy space and the filmy curtains at the windows and pulled back from the bed. ‘Absolutely not. It’s sumptuous and gorgeous yet comfortable.’ Abruptly she fixed him with that disturbingly direct look. ‘It doesn’t feel like a guest suite.’

      Asim shrugged. ‘That’s what it’s designed for.’ He didn’t add that only his intimates stayed here, one or two close friends and a handful of lovers.

      Instantly he imagined her writhing naked on this bed...and she wasn’t alone.

      Abruptly he gestured to the bathroom, disturbed at the way his mind strayed around her. ‘You’ll find all you need. If not, call housekeeping. There’s a phone beside the bed.’ He spun away. ‘I’ll wish you a good night.’

      ‘Wait!’ Her voice came from close on his