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‘Really?’
Her happiness stitched something in his gut. He nodded once. ‘But I should warn you, Daisy, it can be harrowing. Some of the people who attend have nothing. Their stories are distressing.’
Her lips twisted in a way that made him want to drop his head and capture them with his own. He might have, to hell with the complications of that, if they hadn’t been surrounded by hundreds of dignitaries.
‘I can cope.’ There was steel in her words, and he wondered at the cause of it. There was so much about her he didn’t know, and yet he felt that on some level he understood every cell of her being. That wasn’t enough though. The gaps in his knowledge of her seemed insupportable all of a sudden. There was an urgency shifting through him.
‘Has anyone told you about the tawhaj tower?’
She frowned. ‘No?’
He moved his fingers by a matter of degrees, stroking them lightly over the flesh at her back. He felt her body tremble in response. Desire kicked up a notch.
‘No.’ Her voice was soft, husky. ‘What is it?’
‘Look.’ He stopped dancing so he could gesture behind her. She shifted her gaze, her neck swanlike as she followed the direction he’d indicated. ‘Do you see it?’ He couldn’t stop looking at her. He had to get a hold of this. They were being watched and the seduction they were enjoying was palpable. Surely everyone would be aware of the heat that was moving between them.
‘No?’
‘There.’ It was an excuse to move closer. His arm brushed her nipples as he pointed more clearly and he felt her response. It was imperative that he remove them from this environment. He no longer wished to be surrounded by a hoard of onlookers. He needed his wife all to himself.
‘Oh! Yes
, I think so?’
It was, indeed, difficult to make out the tower in the moonlight. The spindly structure, forged from marble and stone many hundreds of years ago, was slender and elegant.
‘Would you like to see it?’
She shifted to face him just as the music slowed to a stop. Her eyes held his and it was as though a question was moving from him to her, silent and unspoken, but heard nonetheless. ‘Yes, Sariq. I would.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HIS HAND IN the small of her back was addictive. They didn’t speak as they moved through the ancient corridors of this palace. Floors of marble, walls of stone, tapestries, flowers, gold, jewels. It all passed in a blur. All Daisy was conscious of was the man beside her. His nearness, his touch, his warmth, his strength. She could feel his breathing as though it were her own.
It took several minutes for the noise of the party to fade from earshot completely and then there was silence, save for the sound of their footfalls and the pervasive throb of anticipation.
‘In the thirteenth century, Haleth was made up of three separate kingdoms. War was frequent and bloody. The tower was built, initially, as a lookout. It is the highest point of palace land, and has a vantage point that, on a clear day, extends to the sea. It gave the Emir’s forces the ability to detect a likely skirmish from a great distance.’ He guided her through a pair of enormous timber doors, each carefully carved with scenes she would like to come back and study, another time.
‘It meant that most of the approaches to the palace took place during sandstorms, when visibility was poor.’
She shivered. ‘Such violence.’
‘Yes.’ He looked down at her, something unreadable in his expression. There was a tightening to his features that spoke of words unsaid.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’ He shook his head, as if to clear the thought. ‘Here.’
They approached another set of doors. These were gold, and guarded on either side by two members of the RKH military, dressed as the guards in the embassy had been.
Sariq spoke in his own language, a short command. Each bowed low and then the guard on the left pulled a ring of brass keys from his pocket, inserted one into the door. Both guards worked in unison to open them.
Inside, there was a marble staircase, but it wasn’t possible to see more than the first two steps. One of the guards moved ahead, and when Daisy and Sariq followed, she saw that the guard was lighting heavy lamps attached to the walls. The staircase smelled of kerosene and damp.
On they went, each tread worn down in the centre by the thousands of steps that had come before theirs, until finally the air grew clear, the stars shone overhead, and they emerged into an open room right at the top of the tower.
The guard was lighting the lamps, giving the space a warm glow, but Daisy barely noticed. She was too busy taking in the details of this spectacular tower. The walls were open, just spindly supports every few metres, to create the impression of windows where there were none. Those same spindles rose like the branches of a tree towards the sky, curving inwards at great height, stopping well before they reached the centre so the roof was open, showcasing the night sky in a way that was breathtaking. The moon was full and it caught the pale marble in such a way that it seemed to shine against the inky black of the heavens.
