The Sultan's Harem Bride by Annie West Read Free Book Online Page A

questions she had to give more than a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to. Even then she’d kept her eyes downcast.
    His gaze shifted to a knot of people so engrossed in conversation they hadn’t realised the reception was breaking up. At its centre was a familiar tawny chestnut head. Jacqueline Fletcher, nodding at something one of the country’s most renowned lawyers said. Even from here he saw the flash of her bright eyes. Asim couldn’t imagine her standing meek and silent before a man her parents wanted her to marry.
    His lips twisted in a grim smile as he remembered how she’d been anything but meek. She was too opinionated, too outspoken for comfort.
    ‘And she’s obviously eager to start a family.’
    Startled, Asim turned to stare at his grandmother, only then realising she referred to the woman who’d just left.
    ‘That’s a definite plus,’ the old lady murmured, ‘Since you want heirs. Did you know she volunteers at the children’s hospital? She adores children.’
    ‘I’d noticed.’ She’d only become animated when talking about children at the hospital and, blushing, about her hopes for a large family.
    Asim liked children. He wanted his own. But he’d felt uncomfortable with a woman who seemed to have no interests beyond that.
    ‘Her mother tells me she’s an excellent cook. I suspect she’ll be a wonderful home-maker.’
    Asim arched an eyebrow and stared down at his grandmother. ‘Why the hard sell? It’s not as if I’m likely to starve for want of a good cook.’ A wide gesture took in the remnants of the superb buffet supper prepared by the royal chefs.
    ‘I’m just pointing out her good qualities. Why are you so touchy?’
    He shrugged, frowning. Why
did
he feel dissatisfied? Tonight had been arranged so he could vet a potential bride in a setting which wouldn’t make his interest obvious. Yet the result was strangely disappointing. ‘I’m sorry. I thought I knew what I wanted and now I’m having second thoughts.’
    She nodded. ‘A man like you needs more than a sweet mouse, Asim, even if she is a domestic goddess. You need a real woman.’
    He discovered his eyes were fixed again on Jacqueline Fletcher. He blinked as his grandmother’s words sank in. A real woman.
    But not one like his unwanted guest. So she could hold her own in conversation and had an enquiring mind. That was all. She didn’t even dress to make the most of her assets. That dark suit would have been acceptable at a business meeting, but not tonight, where the women wore full-length gowns of impeccable quality.
    Did she aim to draw attention to herself in some perverse way? Or did she think to hide herself behind the boxy cut of that jacket? Perhaps she’d worn it because of him. Did she really believe the unflattering style would make him forget her svelte, alluring body now he’d seen it laid out before him?
    ‘Asim, dear. You’re scowling.’
    His jaw firmed and he stiffened as he realised his grandmother was right. He’d been Sultan for ten years, had been attending formal events since childhood. Concealing his thoughts in public was second nature. Until now.
    * * *
    ‘Allow me to escort you to your suite.’ The deep voice was as rich and tempting as the thick Arabic coffee sweetened with wild honey that was a local specialty. It slid right through her insides, scorching as it went.
    Jacqui swung round to find the Sultan beside her. Her pulse throbbed faster and an unsettling frisson pulled her skin taut. She’d been so busy saying goodnight to her new acquaintances she hadn’t heard him approach.
    All evening she’d kept her distance, though he drew her gaze constantly. A head taller than most of the glamorous crowd, he looked magnificent in pale trousers and a high-necked tunic of coppery gold that complemented the saturnine darkness and chiselled authority of his features. This time his turban was black.
    Beside him she felt like a drab sparrow. For a fleeting moment she wished her travel