Free The Sultan's Harem Bride by Annie West Page B

happened daily when she tried to wheedle access to records or palace staff or ancient pavilions that had been locked up as unsafe generations ago. Yet seeing her hesitant and downcast was like watching a bright light dim.
    For long seconds their eyes locked. Long enough for him to notice that in the syrupy late-afternoon light her eyes flashed with shards of gold.
    Slowly her mouth eased into a crooked smile.
    ‘In that case, Asim...’ She paused over his name as if savouring it. ‘I promise not to be meek with you again.’
    She scooped up her towel and wrapped it around herself, hurrying towards her room. But her chin was up and her shoulders back and, despite his body’s howl of protest at her departure, Asim found himself smiling.

CHAPTER SIX
    ‘I T ’ S GORGEOUS , BUT I can’t accept it.’ Regretfully Jacqui tore her gaze from the liquid fall of pewter silk in her hand and turned to Lady Rania.
    ‘Of course you can. You’ll look marvellous.’
    ‘It’s kind of you but unnecessary. I’ll wear my skirt and jacket to the dinner.’ Seeing the other woman’s raised brows, she hurried on. ‘I’m here for business, not pleasure.’
    Lady Rania shook her head. ‘You have a lot to learn, Ms Fletcher. There is no reason why business cannot be spiced with pleasure, or why a lovely young woman cannot make the most of herself. After all,’ she continued with a glance at Jacqui’s long-sleeved top, ‘The dress is modest.’
    Jacqui didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t admit she’d never worn a formal evening gown and had no wish to start. This slinky dress would highlight the deficiencies of her lanky frame. There’d be nowhere to hide in it.
    Yet the slide of silk through her hand was seductive.
    Jacqui wondered how it would feel, wearing this designer original against bare skin, and shivered. Maybe because her riotous imagination pictured strong, bronzed hands stripping it off her—Asim’s hands.
    Carefully she laid the dress over the exquisitely upholstered sofa. Everything in the dowager’s apartments was delicate and feminine, everything Jacqui wasn’t.
    ‘It’s just...’ She wiped her palms down her trousers.
    ‘Yes?’ The old lady gestured for her to sit. ‘You know it would give me immense pleasure to do this for you, Ms Fletcher. I don’t think you realise how much your project has meant to me.’ She smiled wistfully, a small hand gesture conveying a hint of frailness Jacqui had never noticed before. ‘Everyone these days is interested in moving forward but never in looking back. It does an old woman good to be useful again. My friends and I have been useful, haven’t we?’
    ‘Absolutely.’ Jacqui leaned forward. ‘You’ve been a mine of information. My research would never have got off the ground without you.’ She paused, wondering if the dress was meant as a farewell gift. Was this a signal her stay was about to end? ‘I had hoped to continue working with you a little longer...’
    Lady Rania smiled gently. ‘I look forward to that. In the meantime, allow me to do this. Tonight will be a formal dinner and it would please me if you wore my gift.’
    Put like that, Jacqui had no choice. ‘Thank you.’ She eyed the spectacular fabric and gulped. She could do this. She couldn’t offend or disappoint the woman who’d been so good to her. ‘I’m honoured by your gift.’
    ‘Excellent.’ Lady Rania sat straighter, that hint of frailty abruptly extinguished by her radiant smile.
    * * *
    Three hours later Jacqui took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.
    She blinked and looked again.
    That was
her
?
    The woman in the mirror looked subtly elegant. Not ungainly or scrawny. A few weeks of eating the delicious palace food must have helped her put back on the weight she’d lost. She wasn’t much of a cook at the best of times and in the months following Imran’s death preparing meals had been too much bother.
    Jacqui stroked her palms down the fragile silk covering her