How to Seduce a Sheikh by Marguerite Kaye Page A

he made love to her, he gave a little less of himself, held himself back more. She no longer believed he did it for her sake only. It was a mental as well as a physical act, a retreat. It hurt, but she had only herself to blame for that fact. For her the passion between them had been a revelation, opening up the world of sensuality to her and in doing so giving her a new confidence in herself. She no longer felt incomplete, or that she was missing out on a secret. For her their lovemaking was just that, making love, mentally as well as physically. For Zafar it was merely physical.
    Last night, when she had been floating blissfully in the aftermath of her climax, she had reached for him, wanting to prolong the intimacy. He rolled away from her on the pretext of fetching her mint tea, but she knew she had overstepped a mark. He never spent the whole night in the harem, never slept there. She had given up hoping that he would.
    Yet in daylight, it seemed to her, they were truly intimate. He shared his thoughts, his ideas, his ambitions without reservation. She had never been with a man who was interested in her mind before. She had never had an intimate friend. With Zafar she had found both, and here was the root of the love that had blossomed in her for him. They were both by nature solitary. Together they had discovered the pleasure of not being alone, of sharing.
    With another heavy sigh, Colette pushed herself away from the parapet and completed her tour of the battlements. The sun was at its highest, so she returned to the cool terraces around one of the many courtyards in the palace, wandering aimlessly from one to another before heading back to the harem. Still restless, she climbed the stairs to the second terrace. Her footprints left a trail in the dust as she went from room to room stacked with furniture and boxes.
    Bending to examine a pretty inlaid chest, she caught her tunic on one of the handles. As she pulled open the drawer to free herself, something in the bottom glittered up at her. An ornate bracelet, made of gold and decorated with jewels. Blue, red and green, the royal colours. It was a beautiful piece, and undoubtedlyextremely valuable. She clasped it around her wrist and was admiring the intricate filigree work when the door to the courtyard creaked open.
    ‘Zafar, I’m up here.’ Colette ran lightly down the stairs to greet him. ‘You look very serious.’
    ‘Firas has had word from Cairo. You can leave within the week.’
    Her heart plummeted. ‘Within the week.’
    ‘Yes, it is good news. I know how eager you must be to finally return to your homeland. It has been a long time.’
    ‘Yes.’ She nodded and summoned a bright smile because it was what he wanted of her, though she felt like bursting into tears. ‘And anyway, our agreement was only for a month. We are already on borrowed time.’
    ‘Indeed, I—Where did you get that?’
    He was staring at her arm. At the bracelet. ‘Oh, I forgot I had put it on. I found it in a chest upstairs.’
    ‘Take it off. Immediately!’
    His face was set rigid. Obviously it was very valuable. ‘I wasn’t going to steal it, if that is what you are thinking,’ Colette said, struggling with the clasp.
    ‘I said, take it off.’ Zafar cursed.
    When she finally managed to undo the catch and hand it to him, Zafar stared at the bracelet as if it were cursed or possessed or both. Tentatively, she put her hand on his arm. ‘Zafar, what is it?’
    ‘It belonged to my wife. I gave it to her on our wedding day.’
    ‘But—you said you are not married.’
    ‘I’m not. Afifah is dead.’
    ‘Afifah,’ she repeated foolishly.
    ‘It means chaste and modest one. It suited her well.’
    ‘Afifah was your wife.’ Colette rubbed her eyes. ‘Why did you not tell me? Why has no one so much as mentioned her name? Why is there no trace of her here in the harem? I don’t understand, Zafar.’
    ‘I told you, this harem has not been used since my father’s time.