The Royal House Of Karedes Collection Books 1-12. Кейт Хьюит
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declarations of emotion from a humble stable girl.
‘Yes, Highness,’ she said softly.
His black eyes blazed into her. ‘How lukewarm your praise!’ he mocked.
Her gaze flickered uncertainly to his glittering black eyes. ‘I liked it very much.’
Her shy acclaim was oddly moving, and Kaliq’s mouth twisted. Unless she was playing the games that women often did—acting coy in order to appeal to his sense of honour. But he did not think she was playing games—apart from anything else, games had to be learned, and what could her life so far have possibly taught her other than how to mount and train a horse?
The thought of her mounting a horse—of the muscular flesh of the animal locked between her soft thighs—made him grow harder still, but Kaliq quickly came to a decision. There would be no sex here tonight—not without a lot of effort on his part—that much was clear. So there was little point in her hanging around kissing him on the silken cushions.
But he wanted her—and he would have her. He just needed to work out how best to go about it.
‘Go now and rest,’ he said dismissively, and then a slow smile began to curve his cruel lips as he began to get the first shimmering of an idea which would throw a little excitement and unpredictability into the mix. ‘We will need to talk in the morning about our trip.’
Eleni had been scrambling to her feet—half pleased to have been granted her freedom and yet half disappointed that the prince had decided against kissing her again. But his words drew her up short and she stared down at him.
‘Trip, Highness? Wh-what trip would that be?’
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he drawled carelessly. ‘I am going to Europe—and I am taking you with me.’
ELENI quickly learned that if a royal sheikh did not wish to speak to you, then there was little point in trying to pursue a conversation with him. And that a royal sheikh certainly never considered that he needed to explain his behaviour.
So that last night, when she had turned to Prince Kaliq to ask him what on earth he meant by proposing to take her to Europe—he had simply waved his hand in an arrogant gesture of dismissal. And then his retinue had arrived as if he had sent out some silent summons—before the whole lot of them had disappeared in a swish of glimmering robes.
Leaving Eleni to make her way back to her room and spend the night tossing and turning in her soft palace bed while her mind spun with possibilities and confusion.
Europe he had said. Had he been playing some kind of joke on her? What possible reason could there be to go into a faraway region she had only seen represented on the pages of her geography books? Frowning, she tried to remember—but geography had seemed a pointless subject to embrace when she had known that she was unlikely ever to leave the shores of Calista. Was Madrid the capital of Spain, or was that Barcelona? she wondered. And was England the country which looked like a resting grasshopper?
Despite her restless night, she was up at dawn to muck out and exercise Nabat, and rode him long and hard over the gallops—and the wind in her face briefly blew away all her worries. Once she’d fed him, she poured herself some of the strong coffee which one of the stable lads brought out. Then she took the tin mug and a large orange and went and sat on a low wall overlooking the gallops, watching the sun rising over the distant mountains while she peeled and ate the fruit.
At first she didn’t hear the footfall behind her, so lost was she in thought. In fact, it wasn’t until a silky voice said her name that she jumped—her mouth so full of orange that for a moment she couldn’t speak as she scrambled down off the wall to face Kaliq.
Today, he was wearing his traditional flowing robes—so at least she was spared the distracting sight of his jodhpurs—and his dark gaze was mocking as it swept over her in swift assessment.
Kaliq’s mouth twisted. Her braided hair was escaping its ribbons—presumably because she’d been out on her horse—and she was again wearing those drab riding clothes. Her green eyes dominated her bare face and yet her full mouth was shiny and sticky from the fruit she was eating. No woman could have looked more unexpectedly provocative, he thought achingly—and yet no woman of his acquaintance would have been quite so oblivious to that fact.
‘Good morning, Eleni,’ he said silkily. ‘Did you sleep well?’
She managed a curtsey. ‘Good morning, Highness,’ she said, ignoring his question for fear of where it might lead.
‘How’s Nabat?’
‘He is truly contented in his new home,’ she said truthfully.
‘I saw one of the lads petting him just now.’ He saw her start and a sardonic smile curved his lips. ‘Calm down, lizard—you won’t be doing the creature any favours if you try to make him completely dependent on you.’
‘But he is!’
‘That’s not true and you know it. He favours you,’ he admitted slowly. ‘And he always will. But give him a bucket of oats and a clean stable and he will be a happy horse.’ His black eyes studied her. ‘Because he’s going to have to get used to being without you for a few days. Remember what I said to you last night?’
Eleni shook her head, trying to dispel the imagery his question had produced. He had said and done a lot of things last night and every single one of them made her feel uncomfortable when she thought about them this morning. ‘Highness, no,’ she whispered.
‘You are surely not objecting to your sheikh taking you to Europe? Why, most women would give up everything they owned for such an opportunity,’ he murmured, enjoying watching her struggle with her emotions until she could contain them no more.
‘I cannot come to Europe with you, Highness,’ she breathed.
‘Why not?’
‘Because… because it would not be proper.’
‘Proper?’ he echoed.
Unable to see the trap he was setting for her, Eleni nodded. ‘Surely it would give rise to gossip, Highness.’
Dark eyebrows were elevated in mocking query. ‘You are perhaps concerned with the sleeping arrangements, while I think only of horses—ah, but how swiftly our roles have been reversed, lizard. You think that my subjects will imagine that the Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi lies with his stable girl?’
Eleni felt the beginnings of a blush begin to flare at her face. Put like that it did sound laughable. ‘I did not mean—’
‘It is not your place to tell me what is proper. It is not your place to tell me anything. And I am not asking you to come with me to Europe, I am commanding you!’ he snapped. ‘As it happens, there is a polo pony in England which I’m thinking of buying to bring back to the club here. And I want your advice.’
‘But—’ Eleni swallowed down the word and looked down at the ground, furious now. How dared he take liberties with her last night on his embroidered cushions and this morning snap at her to accompany him to England as if she were some kind of lapdog!
‘But what, Eleni?’
Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze, wondering if her anger had completely disappeared—though part of her didn’t care if he saw it. ‘Nothing, Highness.’
He noted the sparks which were spitting from the pistachio eyes. ‘No. I want to know.’
‘I thought it was not my place to offer an opinion,’ she offered.
Kaliq’s eyes narrowed. Was she mocking him? No, of course not. She wouldn’t dare. ‘Tell me,’ he instructed silkily.
‘I