Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem by Marguerite Kaye Read Free Book Online Page B

granted her unblemished skin, her slim figure, well-suited to the fashion for high-wasted narrow dresses, but otherwise unexceptional. Now, released from the fetters of her corsets and the bounds of polite society, she explored her shape. Standing under the waterfall, she watched the paths each drop made, down her arms to nestle in the crook of her elbow, between the valley of her breasts, along the curve of her ribcage to the dip and swell of her stomach. So familiar, and yet so new. She lay on her back again, floating weightlessly, gazing up at the stars. How would her body look to someone else. Too skinny? Too tall? Too pale? Her breasts were not small, but they were hardly voluptuous. Was this good or bad? What would a man think? Ramiz, for example…
    ‘I was beginning to fear you had drowned.’
    Celia started up out of the water, then sank quickly to her knees under it. ‘How long have you been there?’
    ‘You looked like Ophelia, with your hair trailing out behind you like that. Only unmistakably alive, I’m relieved to say.’
    The look on his face was also unmistakable. He liked what he saw. The knowledge was shocking, but it gave her a little rush of pleasure all the same. Ramiz was barefooted, and without his headdress or his cloak. Even as she noticed this he began to unbuckle the belt around his waist, which held his knife and scimitar. Then he tugged at the little pearl buttons at the neck of his robe, giving her a glimpse of smooth skin, lightly tanned. It was only as he made to pull the thoub over his head that Celia realised he intended to join her. ‘You can’t come in,’ she yelped. ‘Not while I’m still here.’
    ‘Then come out,’ Ramiz said.
    ‘I can’t. I haven’t anything on.’
    ‘I couldn’t help but be aware of that,’ he said with a crooked smile. ‘I’ll look away, I promise.’
    Still crouched below the water, Celia considered her options. She didn’t even have a towel. The idea of boldly standing up and walking past him naked was horrifying, even if he did keep his eyes closed, but not nearly as alarming as the idea of waiting for him to take off his clothes and join her before she made her escape.
    ‘Celia?’
    Ramiz sounded impatient. Bored, even. He had probably seen hundreds of women without their clothes. And she was getting cold. And feeling a little foolish.
    ‘Close your eyes,’ she instructed, and as soon as he did so Celia took a deep breath and stood up. Wrapping her arms protectively round herself, she splashed her way out of the pool with as much grace as she could muster, trying to persuade herself that she was fully clothed and not dripping wet and stark naked.
    Her clothes were in the shade of the palms to Ramiz’s right. She just had to walk past him as quickly as she could. The sand was hot under her feet. She caught her toe on a stone and stumbled, only just retaining her balance. Glancing up she saw that Ramiz had kept his word. His lashes fanned dark on his cheeks. It was the strangest experience, standing there without her clothes, knowing all he had to do was to open his eyes. She felt exposed, and just the tiniest bit excited. Celia paused. What if…? Then she panicked, and headed quickly for the shelter of the palm trees.
    He felt rather than heard her hesitate, so intensely conscious was he of her tantalising presence. He didn’t need to look. He could imagine her all too clearly as he heard the soft sigh of the water yielding her up, the shiver of the sand as it cradled her feet. Her retreating form, so tall and slender, would glimmer in the moonlight, her hips swaying like a call to pleasure. Her hair, dripping down over her shoulders, would be clinging lovingly to the pouting tips of her breasts. As her footsteps retreated quickly over the sand, he imagined her disappearing into the fringe of palms like a nymph into a forest.
    The urge to follow her there, to enter the forbidden garden of such delights, was so strong that Ramiz took a step