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His proximity worked a different sort of sorcery on her, making her voice tremble when she forced herself to ask, ‘How?’
His tawny gaze lingered on her for a few tense seconds before he looked past her. Compelled, Lauren followed his gaze to find him watching the antique clock slowly ticking its way to seven p.m.
‘Have your sleeping habits changed?’
Her internal gauge veered wildly towards hot at the question. She opened her mouth to snap that it was none of his business but bit her tongue at the last minute. ‘Why are you asking me that?’
‘Because if time is of the essence as you insist then you’d much prefer to get this over with as soon as possible, yes?’
She nodded, glad she hadn’t told him to go to hell. ‘If you’re asking me if I still function on a few hours of sleep every night, then yes, my habits are still the same.’ She didn’t ask him the same question. Didn’t want to know whether his had remained the same too, their perfect synchronicity in that department, as in several others, not something she wanted to dwell on.
Because knowing would make it harder?
She shrugged the question away as he pivoted and strode away from her. Before she could move, he was tugging on a tightly woven golden rope. In the distance, she heard the faint, deep echo of a bell.
Seconds later, the young man from before returned. Tahir spoke to him in swift, lyrical Arabic and had the situation been anything other than it was now, she would’ve indulged her utter fascination with his mother tongue.
Instead, she stood, palms growing clammy and her heart commencing a slow dread-laced thudding as the man nodded and left again.
Alone again he faced her. ‘You’ll be served dinner now. At midnight you’ll be escorted to my quarters. And we will begin.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘ISUGGESTYOUget as much sleep as you can. You’ll need it.’
Those were Tahir’s final tight-edged words before he departed, taking the life force of the atmosphere with him. Still a little dazed by the electric kiss, she’d barely registered the same trio of women from before returning.
That same soup of dread, puzzlement and excitement stirring in her belly had left no room for resentment or irritation as she was led into the sleeping area of her tent.
The scent of bath salts teased her nostrils and, drawn to the scent, Lauren went towards it. Reaching the screen, she gave a soft gasp.
A deep copper claw-footed bath stood in one corner, partially obscured by the beautifully etched wooden frame.
‘Would you like your bath now or after dinner?’ the oldest of the three women, who’d introduced herself as Basma, asked. The scent of jasmine and eucalyptus filled the tent. The thought of immersing herself in the water, giving herself a few precious moments to sift through what had happened with Tahir, had her waving a hand at the water. ‘Bath, please, thanks.’
When Lauren refused help with undressing, Basma smiled and stepped away.
The sensation of the warm water unravelling her knotted muscles released a moan before she could stop it. Inhaling deeply, she rested her head against the high, cushioned lip of the bath and let her eyes drift shut.
Since her arrival in Jukrat four days ago, she’d lived in a state of constant stress about her meeting with Tahir.
The last thing she’d expected was that kiss. The proof that time hadn’t immunised her against his visceral impact on her. That a simple touch of his body could create such...needin her.
It was good, then, wasn’t it, that this had all been some sort of experiment for him? She needn’t worry about a repeat performance.
Stubbornly ignoring the hollow in her stomach, she loosened the knot holding her waist-length hair and reaching for the sublime-smelling shampoo, washed and conditioned her hair, then fully submerged herself in the water, willing her thoughts to drift to nothing. At least for a few minutes.
The heavenly smells of flat bread and rich, spice-infused sauces finally forced her out of the bath. With impeccable timing, she’d just slipped on a satin robe and finished drying her hair when Basma appeared.
‘Come. Sit. Eat.’
Lauren followed her to a low table set up in front of the seating area, holding a large array of dishes that made her mouth water as she drew closer.
The moment Lauren sank into the seat, Basma started ladling out an assortment of dishes.
‘You don’t need to do that. I can do it myself...’ She trailed off as Basma shook her head.
‘You’re His Majesty’s guest. It is our honour to do this for you.’
