Historical Romance Books 1 – 4. Marguerite Kaye. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Marguerite Kaye
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474067577
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also meant that now, watching him cross the courtyard towards her, she was struggling to suppress all these feelings, and to remember that she was a Royal Horse Surgeon with a difficult task to perform. She felt so different, yet he looked exactly the same. Ridiculously handsome. Sinfully attractive.

      Stephanie got to her feet, pulling her keffiyeh over her face before he could read her thoughts. ‘The horses are ready, Your Highness. Let us make haste.’

      * * *

      After an hour examining the stallions’ enclosure, Stephanie could find no evidence to back up her theory, but was reluctant to admit defeat. ‘We must be missing something. Every case of the sickness has occurred seven or eight days after one of the stallions has been brought into the stables to cover a mare. Batal was infected because he was with Anadil when she was covered.’

      ‘But we have lost only one stallion. And there has not been a case of sickness every time,’ Rafiq said. ‘If it is the water, as you suggest...’

      ‘I know, they would all be infected. It doesn’t make sense, yet there is a logic to it, Rafiq. It is the only discernible pattern. We must be missing something obvious.’

      ‘Well, whatever it is, we are not going to find it today. It is too hot to ride back at the moment, let’s rest in the shade for a time.’

      On the other side of the enclosure, away from the horses, the oasis was beautifully tranquil. The air was sweetly scented, the palm-covered island in the centre of the pool a lush haven. Perched on the low stone wall of the little bridge, Stephanie could see her reflection in the still blue waters, with Rafiq standing beside her, frowning over at the high wall. He wore English-style leather riding breeches today, and long boots. His shirt was white, with wide sleeves, open at the neck. He had discarded his headdress as soon as they had arrived. His hair was dishevelled, clinging damply to his brow, just as it had yesterday in the library, when he was naked and aroused. And then naked and sated. She had brought that about. Just thinking about it made her feel giddy. So she’d better stop thinking about it.

      A breeze flitted through the palm trees, making them rustle. In the paddock, one of the stallions whinnied. Rafiq sat on the wall beside her. Beneath them, the water was crystal clear, like a mirror.

      Exactly like a mirror. There was her face and Rafiq’s side by side. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Their heads drew closer until their temples touched.

      ‘I have been giving what you confided in me last week regarding your past a great deal of thought,’ he said. ‘I cannot accept that you were in any way to blame. Surely there must be some way of bringing this man who seduced you to book.’

      ‘Rafiq, I made love to him because I wanted to, and it was, frankly, now that I know better, a disappointing and frankly dreadful experience, but that is beside the point. It was my choice, and until lately I have deeply regretted it.’

      ‘What has made you think differently?’

      Stephanie chose her words carefully. ‘I too have thought about it a great deal since last week, more clearly than I have been able to since it happened. Distance gives perspective, and hindsight is a marvellous thing. You know, I wasn’t unhappy working with Papa, but I was beginning to question whether I wanted to spend my entire life doing so. I was looking for something more, something different, although I couldn’t articulate what it was. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I thought myself in love, I don’t know. But I do know that if I had not taken the path to ruin, I would not have been granted this opportunity, for Papa would never have permitted me to come to Arabia otherwise. What I’m trying to say, in a very roundabout way, is not that I would gladly make the same mistake again, but having already made it, I need have no more regrets.’

      ‘But that man...’

      ‘Rupert is weak, and he is dishonourable, and he is a liar The world did not extract a punishment from him for those sins, while I was forced to pay beyond price by my shame, but it’s that same shame which has obliged me to take responsibility for my own life. My total lack of judgement still takes my breath away. I will never, ever be so stupid again. But I’m done with looking over my shoulder, I want only to look forward, to the future. So I’m not in the least bit interested in revenge. Do you see?’

      ‘To be done with regrets, to be done with looking back—yes, that I do understand.’

      Though his eyes were hooded, his tone was bleak. ‘Fear not, I will help you cure this sickness,’ Stephanie said, touching his knee. ‘You will win the Sabr as you promised you would.’

      Her words, to her relief, had the desired effect. He smiled. ‘I cannot help but wish that blackguard could be punished for what he did to you, but I cannot bring myself to regret the fact that it has led to your presence here in my kingdom.’

      Their shoulders were touching. And their arms. And their thighs. Her heart began to race. He turned to her and stroked her hair. ‘Last night was utterly delightful.’

      ‘Yes,’ Stephanie said with a sigh, ‘it was. Will we ascend another step some time soon?’

      He kissed her tenderly. ‘Soon enough, but we both have business to attend to, and I will not rush this business. You are a woman who deserves to be savoured.’

      ‘I am not a banquet.’

      He laughed. ‘A feast. It is a very interesting idea.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      He kissed her deeply. Then he helped her to her feet. ‘Patience is a virtue, don’t they say?’

      ‘I’m not feeling at all virtuous.’

      He laughed again. ‘No more am I, but we really must go. I have a banquet of a very different nature to attend. Besides, it will be dark soon, and the biting insects which infest this water will make their appearance. It is high time we returned to the palace.’

      * * *

      ‘What is going on, Stephanie?’

      She had not seen Rafiq for five days when he strode into the stables wearing his state robes, though he had discarded his headdress. He had been on a tour of the outlying villages. He looked tired and harassed and she was going to ignore that silly little lurch of her heart, because unless she had a tropical disease, she knew perfectly well that hearts did not lurch.

      ‘I take it Jasim has been to complain about me.’

      ‘With good reason, on the face of it. This is a stud, Stephanie. We breed horses. In order to breed horses, we need to bring the stallions in to cover the mares.’

      ‘But we have established that the source of the sickness is located at the stallions’ oasis, Rafiq.’

      ‘We don’t know that for certain. We searched the paddock thoroughly and found nothing to justify halting the main function of these stables, never mind the sweeping changes you are proposing. It can’t be done.’

      Jasim had done his work well, Stephanie thought. ‘If I had known you had returned, I would have discussed the matter with you personally as a matter of priority.’

      ‘In all fairness, the smooth running of the stables is Jasim’s responsibility.’

      ‘Curing the sickness and preventing its spread are what you appointed me to do. If that requires me to make temporary changes to the regime here, then that is my decision, not Jasim’s. And unless you wish to terminate my employment, it’s not your decision either.’

      Stephanie did not raise her voice. She mimicked the soft, deliberate tone Rafiq used when he was playing the Prince. She did not let the fury she was feeling show on her face, though she kept her balled fists hidden in the folds of her tunic. She held his gaze determinedly. His expression was always difficult to read, but she understood the nuances now. The way his sleepy lids flickered when he was challenged. The slight downturn of his mouth, when he was holding his feelings in check. And the lift of his brows, when he was forced into an unpalatable decision.

      ‘Explain to me, the rationale