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Her lips twisted into an ironic smile. In the midst of a frenetically busy palace, with thousands of staff, Phoebe was the most alone she’d ever been.
And she loved it.
There was no pretense here.
No need to hide how damaged she was. How ever-fearful. No one cared! She didn’t need to pretend that any man who touched her, no matter how gently, didn’t strike fear into her heart. Because no one touched her. No one spoke to her. No one bothered her. She was truly at peace.
She placed her hands lightly on the railing, and stared across the desert, to the blistered horizon. It seemed to crackle and pop in the distance, and she wondered, briefly, what it would be like to be out there, in the elements. Not wrapped up in comfort as she had been for the past three weeks.
Three weeks. Had it really been so long?
She toyed with the strap of her robe, counting back the days. There had been that first day, when she’d discovered Hakim’s harem. The same day she’d come back into contact with her guardian. A small frisson of excitement ran down her spine as she remembered the way his dark eyes had examined her. The way his hand had felt on her back.
It had been anxiety, of course. Sheer nerves had made her read more into the situation than was there. She couldn’t be attracted to him. The very idea made her shake her head forcefully. He was everything she loathed in a man. Oh, he might be sinfully gorgeous, and rich as Croesus, but he was just like Etienne. A man who liked to control and dominate. Who would use whatever force necessary to achieve his goal.
She could not want a man like that.
Beneath her, the water shimmered as inviting an oasis as ever.
It was the one activity she’d indulged since coming to Mehran. To swim was a pleasure. To swim in a desert paradise such as this was heaven on earth.
Within minutes, she’d donned her bathers – still damp from the night before – and descended the flight of stairs to the private pool.
The water was ice cold against her skin. She had been meaning to ask someone how they managed that. How, in the middle of a desert that frequently reached over a hundred degrees, they were able to keep the water like ice. It didn’t much matter though.
Phoebe lowered her body into it gratefully, and kicked back from the wall, so that she could float on her back. She stared at the azure sky; the sun just a glowing white dot on the edge of her sight, as she paddled slowly past palm fronds and birds.
“Enjoying yourself?”
She squawked and spluttered, kicking her feet back into the water and whipping around in the direction of the voice.
Hakim stood, wearing only a pair of black briefs. Any thought fled from her mind, as she was rendered incapable of doing anything other staring. His body was far more spectacular than she’d fantasized. Aft
er all, her raw materials, when it came to imaginings, were limited. How many naked men had she seen? None. Certainly none with the stunning muscular definition of Hakim. His tan was an all over honey and cinnamon, his legs long and muscled. His dark hair was slicked back from his high forehead, his lips quirked in a small smile.
Phoebe had to clear her throat. She wasn’t sure when the last time was she’d actually spoken aloud. “Hello.”
“Mind if I join you?”
Phoebe was torn. Her body was thrumming with an inexplicable excitement, a hope he’d not only join her, but that he’d touch her again. Her mind was screaming at her to get out of the water.
In the end, she split the difference. “Suit yourself. It’s your pool, after all,” she invited with an appearance of nonchalance, paddling to the far side of the water, and watching him warily. She didn’t simply watch him though. She had to lift her fingers to her lips to make sure she wasn’t drooling. Every muscle in his body bunched together as he prepared to dive. His abdominals were ridged with more than six distinct muscles, and while he was perfectly toned, there was nothing slim about him. He was superbly strong looking, like a wild beast, he seemed bigger, taller, better than she had known men in real life could be. He looked as though he would be capable of taking on a lion with his bare hands.
He hit the water with a minimal splash, and swam the whole length beneath the surface. When he emerged, his hair was dark and slick against his head. Phoebe realized, disconcertingly, that she was staring. With haste, before their eyes could meet, she looked away, pretending interest in the ornate scalloping carved into the walls that bordered the pool.
“How are you enjoying Mehran?”
So civil. So polite. Phoebe looked at him, startled. Why was normal conversation the last thing she’d expected from him? “It’s beautiful,” she said, honestly. “Though I have not seen much more than my rooms and the pool.”
His handsome face was carefully wiped of emotion. “I apologize if that is not your usual pace.”
“On the contrary,” she said quickly, “I enjoy the solitude.” She kicked away from the pool and floating into the middle of the turquoise water. Distractedly, she lifted a hand from the water as if to catch the piercing rays of sun that were making the surface glimmer like diamond dust.
“I did not expect that you would,” he responded, frankly.
Phoebe’s blue eyes sparked with annoyance. “Because your spies told you I’m a party animal, or something?”
“You were certainly very involved in the university social scene.”
