Taming Charlotte by Linda Lael Miller Page A

constantly?”
    Patrick found the idea of having Charlotte at his side oddly appealing, considering that she was one of the most irritating females he’d ever had occasion to deal with. “No,” he said. “What are you suggesting?”
    “That she stay here in the palace,” Khalif replied, reaching for the gold-inlaid carafe to refill both Patrick’s glass and his own. “Just until you’ve completed your business in Spain.”
    The idea made Patrick’s throat constrict with fury, and jealousy stabbed his middle, sharp as a dagger, but then he reminded himself that Khalif was one of his oldest and most trusted friends. Still, he had to ask, “Just exactly what role would Charlotte play in your harem?”
    Khalif chuckled and lifted his cup in a salute. “You are flushed with angry emotion,” he pointed out, “like a boy challenged in the schoolyard. I will not summon your little friend to my couch, Patrick. My honor is more important to me than my life; you know that”
    Patrick looked away for a moment, ashamed of his primitive response to his friend’s kindly suggestion and annoyed at Charlotte for turning him into a fool. “If I had a sister,” he said truthfully, “I wouldn’t be afraid to entrust her to you.”
    The other man stretched out a hand to slap Patrick’s shoulder affectionately. “It is understood, then. You will leave the girl here for the time being.”
    Patrick considered the promise he’d made to Charlotte, that she would sail with him when the
Enchantress
raised anchor, and weighed that against the fact that she would be in danger the moment she stepped outside the palace. It was true enough that he had some important trading to do before setting out for the other side of the world, and he simply would not be able to supervise Charlotte every moment.
    “Yes,” he finally replied, his voice gruff with reluctance. “Charlotte will stay until I’ve seen to my business on the Continent.”
    Khalif nodded and made an innately Arabic sound meant to convey approval. “I will have her sent to your apartments tonight, so that you may tell her good-bye,” he said.
    Patrick felt an overwhelming sadness at the thought of turning his back on Charlotte, and he knew she would see his decision as a betrayal. “I want one promise from you,” he went on, setting his glass aside and standing, along with his host. “Charlotte is not to be punished at the whim of some eunuch—or of your mother.”
    The sultan sighed with a sort of ancient wisdom, an affectation that made him sound much older than his thirty-four years. He’d been doing that since he and Patrick had met, when they were both twelve. “She must follow the rules of the harem, like the others, but I will see that Charlotte is disciplined by no one other than myself.”
    Patrick had to agree; he knew Khalif was being generous. While the women of this particular harem were pampered and even cherished by their sultan, strict order was kept, and rebellions, minor or major, were dealt with by every means from a severe tongue-lashing to beheading. The culture was ancient, and so were its traditions; he could notrightly expect ingrained customs to be overturned for the sake of one saucy American wench.
    Khalif slapped Patrick’s shoulder again and laughed. “Do not worry, old friend. I will not separate the young lady from her head, or have her stripped and beaten at the gate, I give you my vow.”
    Patrick sighed and summoned up a sheepish grin. “I wouldn’t speak so rashly if I were you—you don’t know Charlotte.”
    Charlotte sat down on the stone bench underneath the elm tree and leaned back against it, looking up through the leafy branches at an aquamarine sky. She would not be so foolish as to attempt an escape now, but she needed to make a plan. If Alev was right, and Patrick had lied about his intentions, drastic measures would have to be taken.
    One by one the other women who had been enjoying the shady courtyard went back into