Sultan Tariq was worn down with age and his mind was weakening, yet his need to dominate remained unquenched. Life had taught her father nothing. He wanted her on hand to pander to his whims. As far as the Sultan was concerned, Zorahaida was a toy. Try as she might, she would never get him to understand that she was far more than that.
She had a will of her own. A life to lead. God willing, she would spend it with Jasim.
Jasim joined her in bed and she went eagerly into his arms.
He kissed her forehead. ‘Sleep, my sweet.’
She nuzzled his chest. She was still clothed, although she could feel him well enough. She loved the careful way his body cradled hers. Her head lay on his chest, his arms held her tightly against him and their legs were entwined. Jasim wanted to make love with her, she could feel him hard and hot, pressing against her belly. Yet he made no move because he thought her exhausted. He was willing to put his desires to one side, for her. Jasim would never treat her as a toy.
‘Jasim?’ She drew a circle on his chest with her forefinger and felt the shiver that went through him. Desire. ‘I won’t be able to sleep until you have answered some questions.’
‘Aye?’ His voice was husky, it was the voice of need, barely held in check.
She hid a smile. She burned for him too, but her questions were important.
‘What happened to Fatima at the pigeon loft? Is she all right?’
A large hand ruffled her hair. ‘She is well, I thank you.’
‘That’s a mercy. I saw nothing of what happened after I was hit. I’ve been worrying about her.’
‘Fatima will be fine. She was worried about you too.’
‘I like her, very much.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Jasim, what happened to the men who made up our escort? Did the mercenaries attack your uncle’s guards? Was there a fight?’
He hesitated. ‘I’m afraid so.’
At her urging, Jasim launched into a description of the aftermath of the fight. No detail was spared. He told her about the pigeons fluttering loose in the square outside the hospital, and he mentioned that some of his uncle’s guard had been killed. It was clear he grieved for them. He explained that the Sultan’s mercenaries led him and his party first to the coast and then, when the storms had blown themselves out, to Salobreña.
Zorahaida heard it all with a sinking heart. ‘Jasim, I am truly ashamed that my father’s orders mean your uncle has lost faithful soldiers.’
‘You are not to blame for your father’s sins.’
‘You are generous.’
A pensive silence fell. Zorahaida drew away and stared at the lacy plasterwork ceiling. The flickering lamplight cast ugly shadows. Men had died because of her. She took a deep, pained breath. ‘When we get home, perhaps I may be allowed to make amends.’
‘Truly, there is no need.’
She turned her head to look at him. ‘I disagree. Jasim, Fatima told me about her work at the hospital in Madinat Runda. Will I be permitted to support her? As you know, I visited the infirmary in Granada. I like to help, and I have experience.’
‘If that is your wish, of course you may.’
Zorahaida let out a small sigh. ‘Thank you. I didn’t doubt you for a moment, but it is good to know my dreams have at last come true.’
She felt a gentle tug on her hair. ‘Your dreams?’
‘I have married a chivalrous knight.’
He kissed her lightly on the lips and an eyebrow lifted. ‘I believe you once set your heart on a Spanish knight.’
Jasim’s tone was casual but something in his eyes warned her that her answer mattered to him.
‘Enrique de Murcia?’ With an airy wave, Zorahaida consigned Enrique de Murcia to the past. ‘He is nothing. I never knew him; I saw what I wanted to see. Much later, I discovered him to be both dishonourable and cruel. A liar.’ Leaning forward, she kissed Jasim’s shoulder. ‘The best I can say of him is that he taught me to hope that somewhere in the world, there was a chivalrous man and that he would find me.’ Angling his head to hers, she inched slowly and carefully up his body until her mouth was inches from his. ‘God be praised, you did.’
With a groan, he caught her up and their mouths met.
The kiss intensified. Fire raced along every vein. Their tongues met and played, and the air filled with sighs of pleasure. Relief made her desperate. Want made her greedy. She wanted this to last for ever. Perhaps it would. They were both kissing each other as though their lives depended on it.
Inevitably, she found herself on her back with Jasim leaning over her. His tender expression warred with a bemused frown.
‘My life, we should not be doing this,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You have been half-starved, and you are exhausted.’
With slow deliberation, Zorahaida circled her hips, relishing in the feel of the hard ridge pressing into her belly. When his eyes glazed, she smiled. ‘Jasim, it’s plain you desire me. You do realise I feel the same?’
His eyes darkened. ‘Zorahaida, you spent too long in the harem. Those women are trained to give pleasure. To give it. They have little choice but to simulate enjoyment. It is a trick designed to enhance their partner’s pleasure.’ He shrugged. ‘Every man likes to believe he is a marvel in bed.’
Puzzled, Zorahaida pushed her fingers into his hair. The feel of those bright, silky strands was tempting her beyond endurance. What was he saying? It came to her that despite the consideration Jasim had shown her in bed, despite the delicacy he had shown her after their marriage, he never truly believed she desired him.
On reflection, his questions about the Spanish knight Enrique de Murcia revealed more than she’d first realised. Jasim didn’t understand she’d been content to marry him from the first.
Did he think women were incapable of desire? Would he be shocked if she admitted that she desired him?
She sifted her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Jasim, I need to tell you something. It might shock you. I hope not, but I have to tell you.’
His body tensed.
‘Go on.’
‘Jasim, I am fortunate to have you as my husband. I confess that when we married our goals may not have aligned, but you need to know that I do not regret it. I couldn’t.’
His mouth twisted. ‘You like being my wife?’
‘Very much. Being with you makes me happy. I enjoy talking to you.’
An eyebrow shot up. ‘Talking? Zorahaida, we spend much of our time arguing.’
‘Exactly. I am free to say what I wish to you and whilst we often disagree, I know you will never force me into submission. When we married, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Why, I’ve learned more since I met you than I would in years of study in the palace library.’ Cheeks heating, she looked sideways at him through her eyelashes. ‘I enjoy looking at your body and I enjoy touching it.’ Matching actions to words, she kissed his chest, over his heart.
Careful fingers brought her head up. ‘Zorahaida, I confess to being a little confused. Are you saying that you enjoy making love with me?’
She nodded. Her throat was so tight she had to force the words out. ‘I love it.’ More words, revealing words like I love you threatened to tumble out too, but she held them in. ‘Jasim, your body gives me pleasure and that is no pretence. It is real. I confess that when we first married, you intrigued me. I’d never expected my father to allow me to marry and I was curious about what making love felt like. Jasim, I adored it.’
He grinned and shifted closer to nuzzle her cheek. His breath warmed her neck and his teeth closed lightly on her earlobe. ‘You weren’t alone in that,’ he breathed.
‘I am happy to hear it. A moment, Jasim, let me finish. I was ignorant then.’
A huff of amusement stirred the hair at her temple. ‘Now that is a lie. Believe me, wife, you were far from ign
orant.’
She nudged his shoulder with her nose. He was lying very still, and she knew she had his full attention. ‘You’re wrong, I was very ignorant. So much so that it took me days to realise that the way our bodies responded to each other was extraordinarily rare. I’ve thought about it since, believe me. I could only respond so freely with someone I trusted and liked. And I trusted and liked you from the first, more than any man I’d met. Jasim, I could only have given myself to you. Only to you.’
Those telling words were back, hovering on the tip of her tongue. I love you. It was becoming harder and harder to hold them in.
‘Jasim, I hold you in the highest esteem.’
‘Esteem,’ he muttered.
She frowned. He sounded almost...disappointed. She sighed. The women in the harem had warned her that misunderstandings between husbands and wives were commonplace. Men didn’t like talking about feelings, she was probably boring him.
Experimentally, she wriggled against him and her smile returned. He was pressed against her belly, hot and firm as ever. Bored or no, he still desired her. Well, she could help with that.
She draped her leg over his hip and loosed a series of kisses on his chest, his shoulder, his chin.
Hooded eyes met hers. ‘You are weak and tired, my temptress.’
She laughed. ‘Jasim, I need you. I won’t sleep, otherwise.’
A slow smile dawned. ‘You’re certain?’
‘Never more so.’
He touched his mouth to hers and a languorous kiss consumed them. She sucked his lower lip and he sucked hers. She edged closer and her breathing quickened. Jasim stroked her back, her bottom, her thighs...
Abruptly, he lifted his mouth from hers, frowning as he unwound her shawl from about her waist. He threw it to the floor and pulled impatiently at her clothes. ‘Why are you still clothed?’
Fingers collided in a decadent scrabble to undress her. Silk whispered as it followed the shawl to the floor. Linen rustled.
* * *
The sun was slanting in through a crack in the shutters when Zorahaida woke. Judging by the lozenge of light splashed across the floor, the day was well advanced. She was alone. Slightly concerned, she pushed up.
‘Jasim?’
Silence. Telling herself he must have gone downstairs to break his fast hours ago, Zorahaida scrambled out of bed and into a robe.
He was on the floor down below, sitting cross-legged on a cushion, next to a bowl of bread and figs.
‘At last you are awake,’ he said, rising and coming across to take her hand.
He smiled down at her and memories of their bodies coming together the previous night, of their mutual pleasure, flooded into her mind. Just so had he looked at her before their bodies renewed their knowledge of each other. The soft touch of his lips had led to a gradual increase in tempo. They’d ended with a wild, unrestrained celebration of their marriage. They were together again and thank God, he seemed to be as pleased about it as she was.
He stroked her arm tenderly and something inside her shifted. Jasim invariably treated her with respect. From the very beginning, he’d told her that he hoped there would be affection between them. She’d understood him to be telling her what he thought she wanted to hear. Well, she would settle for that, even though she wished with all her heart for more than affection.
Life with Jasim wasn’t going to be easy with her craving his love. Still, it was better than life without him. He was intelligent. Kinder than most, he would be mortified if he believed she was unsatisfied with their marriage. He must never learn that she yearned for his love above all else.
‘I am thankful you slept so soundly,’ he said.
Smiling, she shrugged. ‘I felt safe for the first time in days.’
With a nod, he drew her towards the cushion by the bread and figs. ‘You must be hungry.’
As Zorahaida settled on to the cushion, Jasim rang the handbell before taking his seat beside her.
When Sama appeared, her face was bare. She had discarded her veil as she had done immediately after their wedding, when Jasim had moved into the tower.
‘Princess.’ Sama bowed. ‘Would you care for more to eat? Prince Ghalib has asked me to remind you the kitchens are entirely at your disposal.’
‘Thank you. For now, bread and fruit are enough, although I will admit to a craving for meatballs with rice and almonds.’
‘The spicy ones?’
‘That would be marvellous. I haven’t had meat in an age.’
‘Very well.’ Sama hesitated. ‘Princess, may I speak freely?’
‘Always.’
Sama drew closer. ‘Princess, I am aware you have seen your father, so you know how ill he is. You might like to know that since you left, the Alhambra has changed beyond recognition. Sultan Tariq has lost all power. The Prince commands loyalty throughout the palace. Your father’s guards, the army, his servants and stewards have transferred their allegiance to your uncle.’
Zorahaida felt Jasim’s hand on her arm, warm and reassuring.
‘Thank you, Sama. After last night that was plain. Tell me, is Captain Yusuf truly safe?’
‘Aye. The Captain and his troop—with all the men who guarded you so bravely—are sworn to the Prince.’
Jasim cleared his throat. ‘You believe the Prince is a just man?’
‘Indeed, Master. The atmosphere in the palace is utterly changed.’
Jasim nodded. ‘That is all to the good.’ He smiled at Zorahaida. ‘My brother will be thankful to be dealing with a rational man.’
Sama moved to the door. ‘Princess, I shall let the kitchen know about your wish for meatballs and rice.’
‘Thank you.’
When Sama had gone, Zorahaida looked ruefully at Jasim. ‘Do you think my departure prompted all these changes?’
‘It’s possible.’
Pensively, she picked up some bread and tore off a small piece. ‘Perhaps I should have run away with my sisters. If Father had lost all his children, he might not have become so controlling.’
Jasim made an impatient sound. ‘That’s absurd. Your father’s cruel reputation preceded your sisters’ flight to Spain. If you’d gone with them, we would never have met.’ Strong fingers encircled her wrist. ‘I, for one, cannot regret our marriage.’
There was a look on his face she was unable to interpret. She thought she saw a hint of uncertainty. Oddly, it gave her heart. She covered his hand with hers. ‘Jasim, I would never regret our marriage. And I am certainly pleased for everyone in the palace if my uncle is truly in power.’
‘If?’ Jasim’s eyebrows lifted. ‘After last night’s show of force, how can you doubt it?’
She stared at the bread. ‘I know my father, and his state of mind troubles me. He has always been the most manipulative of men. He tricks people. He woos them to his will and then, like the toss of a coin, he changes direction.’ She sighed. ‘Father deteriorated suddenly, what’s to say he might not recover equally suddenly? Jasim, I’d like to go home as quickly as possible.’
Amber eyes searched hers. ‘You fear he might stage a swift recovery. My heart, after last night’s show of strength by your uncle I am convinced your fears are groundless. Prince Ghalib is firmly in power.’
‘Nevertheless, I would prefer to go home.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t mean to be difficult, Jasim, but—’
‘Say no more. You wish to leave today?’
‘If you please.’
‘Very well.’ Lithely, Jasim got to his feet. ‘Home it is. I shall find Usayd and warn him that if he wants to travel with us, he will have to conclude his negotiations swiftly.’
* * *
The plan was to be clear of the palace by late afternoon. Prince Ghalib lent fresh horses to the men who had accompanied Jasim from Madinat Runda and their party now comprised the knights Jasim h
ad commandeered from the Madinat Runda garrison, as well as a detachment of the Prince’s guards and a small retinue of servants.
‘Zorahaida, you saved my beloved Yamina,’ the Prince said, eyes twinkling as she surveyed her attendants. ‘It is my pleasure to ensure your comfort on the journey.’
‘You are very generous, Uncle, thank you.’
The Prince’s expression became sombre. ‘We shall miss you. My main regret—apart from losing you, of course—is that I didn’t move sooner to curb your father’s power.’
‘Father would have had you executed. The time was not ripe.’
‘It’s possible.’ His face lightened. ‘Be that as it may, your swift action in saving Yamina and the bravery with which you confronted your father afterwards were an inspiration. Zorahaida, I salute you. Not only did you teach me that inaction might serve to keep me alive, but you also showed me that if I waited too long to assert myself, I risked losing my soul.’
‘You are too kind,’ she murmured.
‘Kind? No, I merely speak the truth as I see it. I learned much from you and from those who quietly gave you their loyalty. Loyalty that was well deserved. I beg you to remember that you will always be welcome here. Please, put those pigeons of yours to good use, write whenever you wish.’
‘I will write often.’
The Prince glanced at Usayd. ‘Thanks to your husband’s brother, I also now have the means of writing to you.’
Zorahaida ran her gaze over their party. It was smaller and leaner than her wedding procession and that, she knew, was down to Jasim who had explained their wish to travel more swiftly. Thankfully, no one had suggested she bid her father farewell. Everyone understood she had no wish to see him again.
As she was helped into the saddle and their party trotted out through the palace gates, she breathed a sigh of relief.
With several changes of horse, they should reach Madinat Runda in about a week.
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