Inherited For The Royal Bed

And she knew exactly what he was like beneath his clothing. The moulded muscles, the hard, intriguing line of his shoulders. The wisp of black hair that bisected his flat belly and dipped below his trousers.

That explained why her heart hammered too fast and why, low in her body, she felt a rush of unfamiliar molten heat. It was reaction to him as a man, not as her ruler.

The realisation brought a flush to her cheeks and she hurriedly looked down at the book, open in her hands.

‘It’s good to see someone making use of the library. I doubt my uncle ever opened the books and I haven’t had time yet. Is it something interesting?’ His tone was gentle. Clearly he tried to put her at ease. As if she were his equal, not his...possession. Her breath hitched on the thought.

He stopped before her and every hair on her body prickled in awareness.

‘I...don’t know. I just opened it.’

There was a long pause. Then he reached out and lifted the book from her hands. But instead of keeping it, he merely turned it up the other way and gave it back to her.

Lina stared down at the lines of writing, warmth rising in her cheeks. She swallowed but didn’t look up.

‘Lina?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Can you read?’ She heard the whisper of kindness in his voice, a note that reminded her, abruptly, of her long-dead mother. For even her father, though not mean or cruel, had never been tender.

A lump formed in her throat.

‘Lina?’ That tone, though gentle, compelled. She felt the force of his will drag her head up till her gaze collided with his. She shivered as fire and ice made her skin tingle and her backbone stiffen.

‘No, sir.’ Shame swamped her. She hated to admit the deficiency. It seemed to reinforce every cliché that had been thrown at her and her mother by her father’s relatives and many of their neighbours. As if their lack of learning was a character flaw rather than a lack of opportunity.

‘But there are schools in your town. I’ve seen them.’ The Emir’s brow knotted.

Lina nodded. She’d pleaded to be allowed to attend. But it had not been deemed appropriate.

‘My father didn’t believe it necessary for females to attend school. My mother wanted me to go, but she died when I was young and there was no one else to persuade my father.’ She paused, feeling it necessary to explain. Her father hadn’t been evil, just set in his ways. And he’d been disappointed that his only child was a girl. ‘He had very traditional views.’

Lina’s mother had been his second wife, twenty years his junior. She’d been beautiful, clever and charming, but faced prejudice because poverty and lack of education had forced her into becoming a dancer, performing in public before her marriage. That prejudice tainted Lina too, as if despite her careful upbringing, her morals were questionable because of her mother’s previous profession.

‘Do you want to learn?’

Lina blinked up at the grave face before her. Was he serious?

If it were her uncle or one of his sons asking, she’d expect some sort of teasing trick, to raise her hopes then dash them. But this was the Emir. The man who’d listened to her last night when he could have ignored her. Who’d been polite and almost gentle, despite his obvious fatigue.

The man who’d allowed her to go to her own bed, alone and untouched, instead of doing any of the things she’d been told he’d demand of her.

She hadn’t slept all night, going over and over each word, each gesture and nuance in her mind. The more she’d remembered, the more the glow of warmth inside her built.

‘Of course! I tried to find someone to teach me. But it didn’t work out.’

She’d made the mistake of asking one of her cousins. The quiet, scholarly one who didn’t make brash jokes in her presence and who’d seemed almost pleasant. Except their ‘lesson’ had lasted about five minutes before his hands started to wander. Then he’d grabbed her and tried to kiss her and Lina had never been so glad to see her aunt as when she’d burst in, even though it meant Lina was locked in her room for the next week as punishment.

Her hands shook so much she closed the book and put it down on the shelf beside her. ‘Would you...? Could I really learn to read and write?’

Hope nosedived at his suddenly fierce expression. As if her excitement displeased him. For a long moment he stared at her, his mouth a grim line. Then he nodded curtly and swung away to take a seat behind his imposing desk.

‘Of course it’s possible. In fact, it’s necessary if you’re going to make your way in the world.’

He gestured for her to take the seat before him. It made her feel a little like she had as a child, called before her father to account for some misdeed. Except, despite the shimmer of tension in the air and the hint of anger in the Emir’s tensed jaw, there was compassion in his eyes.

‘Clearly you can’t stay here in the palace.’

‘But I—’

A raised palm stopped her words and she shivered, realising she’d been about to argue with the man who held not only her fate, but her nation’s, in his palm. Her aunt had been right. Lina needed to curb her tongue.

‘I don’t keep a harem and when I want a woman it will never be someone forced to attend me.’

A shiver rolled through her, pulling her flesh tight. In that instant she was sucked straight back to those long nights of terror, waiting to be called before the Emir, to do whatever he commanded.

Yet now Lina felt that, if this man smiled and spoke to her in the smoky, caressing tone he’d used a few minutes earlier, she’d go to him willingly. She might be nervous about learning first-hand about sex, but her shimmy of excitement hinted she’d be avid to learn if Sayid Badawi taught her.

The realisation stopped her tongue.

‘However,’ he said, his voice serious, ‘you’re now my responsibility. I can’t send you back to your family, since they treated you so badly.’ His eyes flashed and, despite his even tone, she realised he was very, very angry. With her aunt and uncle? The grim line of his jaw accentuated the heavy beat of a pulse in his throat and she was struck with the idea they would suffer for bundling her off here.

Lina felt her eyes grow round and her mouth sag open. She knew because she’d overheard them speaking, that her aunt and uncle believed sending her to the palace would not only remove her from their sons but gain them favour with the Emir.

The old Emir. Not the new one. Sayid Badawi was not cut from the same cloth as his uncle.

‘Given the circumstances in which you arrived, you can’t stay in the palace. People would misconstrue your...role.’

Lina wasn’t exactly sure what misconstrue meant. She assumed the Emir didn’t want people believing she was his concubine.

After all, she was nothing but an uneducated provincial. Even a woman as inexperienced as Lina understood that this man, with his power, wealth and chiselled looks would have his pick of stunning women. He’d only have to click his fingers and they’d flock to him like doves to grain.

Why, he probably already had a lover, perhaps secreted here in the palace.

Heat flushed Lina’s cheeks as she remembered where her mind had wandered last night as she’d thought about the Emir, his kindness and his charisma. His cedar wood and bitter orange scent that made her feel curiously giddy. That zing of awareness when she touched him.

Of course he had a woman. It was ridiculous to think he’d ever want someone like her. Someone who didn’t even know how to hold a book the right way up!

‘I’ve decided to treat you as my ward.’

‘Your ward?’ She looked up and found herself snared by dark-as-night eyes. Another tiny shiver scudded down her spine.

‘I will be responsible for you until you can make your own way in the world.’

Slowly Lina nodded, biting down a question about how she was meant to do that when she only had domestic training.

‘Like an uncle,’ he added, as if to clarify.