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‘I know I don’t,’ she flashed. ‘Just because you saved my life doesn’t give you droit de seigneur!’
‘Ah, so you’re a virgin,’ he said as if this were news to him. ‘When did that happen?’
Her look would have felled most men. It suggested she would like to bring the curtains and even the roof down on his head. She was so sure he had styled himself on some sheikh of old, she couldn’t imagine that beneath his robes he was the same man she had met in Skavanga. He should get on with proving that he was that man, but he was rather enjoying teasing her. Helping himself to some juice and a few grapes, he left Britt to draw back a curtain to scan the tent, no doubt searching for another seating area. She wouldn’t find one, and he had no intention of going anywhere.
‘There’s nowhere else to sit,’ she complained. ‘Until you go,’ she added pointedly.
He shrugged and carried on eating his grapes. ‘Formal chairs are not required in the harem—so there is just this all-purpose sleeping, lounging, pleasuring area, where I’m currently reclining.’
‘Don’t remind me! I don’t know what game you’re playing, Sharif, but I’d like you to leave right now.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. This is my camp, my pavilion, my country—and you,’ he added with particular charm, ‘are my guest.’
‘I treated you better than this when you were my guest.’
He only had to raise a brow to remind Britt that she had treated him like a fool, and was surprised when he had turned the tables on her at the lake.
‘I came to do business with you,’ she protested, shifting her weight from foot to foot—doing anything rather than sit with him. ‘If you had stuck around long enough for us to have a proper discussion in Skavanga, I wouldn’t even be here at all.’
‘So that’s what this is about,’ he said. ‘It still hurts.’
‘You bet it does.’
He had left at the right time and, though he wouldn’t betray Tyr’s part in the business, he wanted to reassure her. ‘Well, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It seems I must learn to explain myself in future.’
‘Damn right you should,’ she said, crossing her arms.
‘I’m just so glad you’re here—and in one piece.’
‘Thank you for reminding me,’ she said wryly. ‘You know I can’t be angry with you now.’
They were both in the same difficult place. They wanted each other. They both understood that if you laid the bare facts on the table theirs was not a sensible match. The only mistake that either of them had made was wanting more than sex out of this relationship.
‘So maybe we can be friends?’ she said as if reading his mind. ‘Except in business, of course,’ she added quickly.
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Maybe business too.’
After a long pause, she said, ‘So, tell me about the tent. Do your people always provide you with a harem tent—just in case?’
‘In case of what?’ he prompted, frowning.
‘I think you know what I mean—’
‘Come and sit with me so I can tell you about it. Or don’t you trust yourself to sit close to me?’ he added, curbing his smile.
She chose a spot as far away from him as possible. Again he was reminded of his finely bred Arabian ponies, whose trust must be earned. Britt was as suspicious as any of them. ‘Remember the deer,’ he said.
‘The deer?’ she queried.
‘Remember the deer in Skavanga and how relaxed we were as we watched them?’
‘And then you’ll tell me about the tent?’
‘And then I’ll tell you about the tent,’ he promised.
She hardly knew Sharif, and they sat in silence until—yes, she remembered the deer—yes, she began to relax.
‘This pavilion is a priceless artefact,’ he said. ‘Everything you see around you has been carefully preserved—and not just for years, but for centuries by the people in this camp and by their ancestors. It is a treasure beyond price.’
‘Go on,’ she said, leaning forward.
‘You may have guessed from the lack of seating that this pleasure tent is devoted to pursuits that allow a man or a woman to take their ease. Pleasure wasn’t a one-sided affair for the sheikhs. Many women asked to be considered for the position of concubine.’
‘More fool them.’
‘What makes you say that?’ he asked as she removed the veil from her hair.
