With an exhalation of frustration Malik shook his head. He’d tried to build a relationship once before and look what that had got him: nine years of misery and a wife who had barely spoken to him. If he pursued something more with Rachel he might satisfy his short-term desire for intimacy and affection, but he could not see a future for them. He would just succeed in driving Rachel away, and his children would suffer because he could not keep control of his urges.
It would be difficult to live side by side with her in the palace, seeing her every day, noticing every one of her different smiles and feeling a quickening of desire inside when she directed those smiles at him, but that would be better than acting on those desires and driving away the best thing that had happened to his children in years.
For a moment Malik’s mind rebelled. It asked him why he could not have Rachel without ultimately driving her away, but reason soon prevailed. Malik knew someone in his position was not destined for love. He would focus on his duty, as his father had before him, and his grandfather before him.
As they reached the bottom of the gorge and Malik held up his hand to help Rachel down the last big step, his eyes flickered down to the tight riding breeches and the curve of her thighs just visible underneath her tunic. Silently he cursed Wahid—his old friend had made it that much more difficult to focus on his duty right now.
‘Let’s get you all remounted,’ Malik said, trying to pull his attention away from Rachel and her curvaceous anatomy.
One by one he helped his children back into their saddles and made sure they were all secure. Once the three camels were standing he turned to Rachel.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
Already she was eyeing the camel less nervously than she had done on their outward trip.
Gently Malik boosted her up, watching as Rachel threw her leg over the camel’s back and settled herself in the saddle.
‘We’ll have you racing in no time,’ he said, keeping his expression serious.
‘Racing?’ Rachel asked, her voice quivering slightly.
‘Yes, the camels go rather fast, they can outrun even a desert-bred horse.’
He broke out into a grin as she gripped the pommel tighter and after a few seconds was rewarded with a reciprocal smile.
‘You’re teasing me.’
Malik shrugged. ‘It’s true, the camels can outrun a horse over the desert terrain, but I promise I won’t make you race on your first day. Maybe tomorrow.’
As Malik swung himself up on to the camel’s back he felt a little giddy and carefree. It wasn’t often he managed to get out of the palace and when he did it was normally for official visits. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been out in the desert without any escort at all. It was rather liberating and for a few moments he felt like a normal family man, taking his children on a regular trip.
Malik loved Huria and he loved his role as leader of the small desert kingdom, but he had to admit sometimes it was a little stifling. He knew he had let his responsibilities as a father slide because of his determination to do the best for Huria, but he hoped he was beginning to balance the needs of his children with the needs of his country.
A little mutinous voice in his head asked what about his needs, but Malik quashed the thought before it could get hold. He was a father and a Sheikh, he didn’t have time for anything else. Especially anything as distracting as Rachel.
* * *
They met up with the rest of their travelling party after about an hour’s ride. Malik had been content to listen to his children chatter on about the high place, the excitement of the climb and the thrill of trekking through the desert on camelback. Every so often he glanced at Rachel and saw she was watching the three children indulgently, too. Only once did their eyes meet and a mutual understanding passed between them. Today was Aahil, Ameera and Hakim’s day. It was about showing them their heritage, but most of all showing them they were loved and cherished.
‘Let’s stop for refreshments before we set out into the desert proper,’ Malik suggested.
The servants had set up a small tent, scattered with comfortable pillows, for refreshments to be served in out of the sun.
Carefully Malik helped each of his children down from their camels, and then turned to Rachel. Already she was more confident, sitting straighter in the saddle and relaxing her grip on the reins. She must have been listening to the commands Malik used to control the beasts, for before Malik could instruct her camel to lower to the ground, she had uttered the word and was lurching forward and backwards before slipping out of the saddle.
‘You have a talent for languages,’ Malik said, taking her arm and escorting her into the tent.
He ensured Rachel and his three children were settled on the cushions before taking his seat beside them.
‘Miss Talbot is studying our language,’ he said to his children, ‘so we must help her.’
Rachel smiled and Malik wondered when he had begun to feel so at ease in this situation. He was comfortable and happy, and it was lovely not to want to pass his children back to someone else when he ran out of things to say to them. He wondered how he could have ever run out of things to say to them in the first place.
‘Why don’t we all pick a word to teach Miss Talbot, something important to each of you, or something you want to say to her?’ he suggested.
All three children fell silent, pondering which word they would choose to teach their governess.
‘Dragon,’ Hakim said, repeating the word in Hurian.
Rachel ruffled his hair, but carefully repeated his chosen word.
‘Dancer,’ Ameera chose next.
‘Tradition,’ Aahil said.
Rachel carefully repeated the three words before turning to Malik.
‘Your turn,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he said in Hurian, holding her gaze.
Chapter Thirteen
Rachel’s body ached all over. She felt as though she had spent the day being beaten with a club, but she didn’t regret one moment of it. Their camel ride through the desert had been an incredible experience, something she had only dreamed of when she had been in England not so many months ago. The camels were gentle but stubborn beasts, difficult to control if they sensed you were nervous, but once you relaxed into their loping gait they were fun to ride. Rachel had even allowed Malik to goad her into a short race across the sand dunes and, although she had lost terribly, she hadn’t fallen off.
Now it was late afternoon and she was eager to stretch her legs and relax with a refreshing drink.
‘Our camp will be set up just over the next dune,’ Malik said, as if reading her mind.
Rachel sat a little straighter in the saddle and strained to see over the top of the rolling sand dune. As they reached the top she could make out the fluttering of the tents in the distance.
‘We should be there before sundown,’ Malik said.
Night came early in the desert, bringing with it the darkness and unexpected chill. Rachel knew Malik would have prepared for the drop in temperature, but was curious to see how they did it. She wondered if they would spend the evening sitting round a fire, or wrapped up in blankets. As they neared the camp Rachel felt herself smiling; this was just the sort of adventure she had always dreamed of.
‘Careful,’ Malik warned as they stopped in front of the largest tent. ‘Your legs will be stiff after the day’s ride.’
Rachel heeded his warning and waited a moment after her camel had sunk to the ground to get off. As she swung her legs over the animal’s back Malik was at her side, taking her arm and guiding her towards the tent.
‘Your Majesty,’ Wahid said, appearing beside them before they had even taken a few steps. ‘We may have a problem.’
Immediately Rachel let go of Malik’s arm and gathered the children
to her. She wasn’t sure of the nature of this problem, but Wahid wasn’t easily flustered and right now he looked worried.
‘It’s a little sensitive,’ Wahid said, taking the Sheikh’s arm and guiding him away from the tents.
Looking back over her shoulder, Rachel could not hear the words that passed between the two men, but she saw some of the colour drain from Malik’s face and watched him run a hand distractedly through his hair. He stood still for a few seconds, as if deciding on the best course of action, then Rachel was surprised to see a flash of anger cross his face. He issued an order to Wahid, who looked a little surprised, then Malik strode back towards the tents with a determined air about him.
‘Is there a problem?’ Rachel asked.
Malik shook his head, his every movement short and sharp, and tinged with irritation.
‘Family,’ he snorted in exasperation.
Without any further explanation Malik ushered them into the largest tent where a spacious sitting area was set up, strewn with comfortable cushions, thick woollen blankets and an assortment of animal furs. Rachel felt as though she had walked into the most luxurious tent in the world.
The children were all quiet, as if picking up on their father’s tension, and they instinctively huddled in closer to Rachel. As they sat Hakim snuggled into one side and Ameera her other, both children watching their father warily.
A servant appeared, bringing refreshing glasses of lemon and mint, and set down plates of sweet biscuits and dried fruit in front of them. Before anyone could reach for any of the delicious-looking display a man in his thirties was led into the tent by Wahid. He was well dressed and pristinely groomed, but there was something a little wild-looking about him that made Rachel instinctively pull Ameera and Hakim closer to her.
Rachel watched as Malik took a long sip of his drink before greeting the man.
‘Omar,’ Malik said eventually, ‘what a pleasant surprise. It must be ten months since we last saw each other.’ To Rachel’s surprise Malik addressed the man called Omar in English and she wondered if it was a technique he employed to put his visitor on the back foot.
‘Your Majesty,’ Omar responded with a deep bow. However, his demeanour belied the animosity between the two men.
‘Please sit, share a drink with us,’ Malik said.
Rachel remembered what Malik had told her of Hurian hospitality before their trip to Talir; he was almost honour-bound to offer this man some refreshments after his journey.
‘I wish to speak with you,’ Omar said, ignoring the offer to sit.
Malik spread his arms in a show of openness. ‘Go ahead.’
Omar shot a glance at Rachel and she found she had to make an effort not to squirm under his stony glare. Instead she adopted a demeanour of serenity and smiled sweetly at this rude man.
‘In private.’
‘We are in private, there are no advisors or guards to overhear us.’
Omar glanced at Rachel again.
‘Miss Talbot is my children’s governess. She is an important part of my household. My children stay and Miss Talbot stays.’ Rachel could tell Malik was beginning to lose patience with this interloper and knew it wouldn’t be long until he was ordered away.
‘I would like a word in private,’ Omar repeated stubbornly.
Malik’s entire body went still and the smile faded from his face.
‘Omar, I am making many concessions for you because of our connection, but I am on a private family trip and want to focus on my children. I will order you to leave and as your Sheikh you would be law-bound to obey me. Do not underestimate me.’ Malik spoke with steely confidence and Rachel could see the other man diminish in size as Malik spoke.
‘A great insult is being felt by my family. The people of Huria are talking, and the subject of the rumours sullies the memory of my sister.’
Rachel watched with interest as the man spoke. She wondered who he was, what connection he had to Malik and what insult he was talking about.
‘I am sorry your family is being hurt by rumours.’
Omar shot a look of contempt at the Sheikh before composing himself again.
‘You are the subject of the rumours.’
Rachel saw Malik’s lips curve up into a measured smile and wondered whether he’d had to practise to get the right amount of amusement and disinterest to show on his face, or whether it came naturally.
‘The people will always talk about their rulers,’ he said indulgently.
‘My sister has been dead for barely a year and you have already taken up with this English hussy. It defiles her memory and it insults our family.’
Rachel felt as though she had been slapped in the face as Omar’s finger pointed at her. He was shaking with indignation, his face red and his eyes bulging with the force of his accusation.
‘Children,’ Malik said calmly, ‘go and find Wahid and ask him to start building a campfire outside. We will dine under the stars tonight.’
Warily Ameera and Hakim stood and hurried out of the tent. Aahil stayed where he was beside his father.
‘Hello, Uncle,’ he said quietly.
‘Aahil, I need to speak to your uncle, and I would rather you were not here whilst I did it. I’m afraid I would not set a good example to you. Go and find your brother and sister.’
Aahil nodded and left.
‘Would you like me to...?’ Rachel began to offer to leave, but Malik shook his head.
‘I think this matter concerns you, so stay, please.’
When Malik spoke in such a commanding voice Rachel knew she didn’t really have a choice in the matter.
‘So there are rumours about me and Miss Talbot?’ Malik asked mildly. ‘What do they say?’
Omar looked from Malik to Rachel and back again.
‘Please, tell us. You were so eager a moment ago.’
‘They say you have taken an English whore as your concubine and that you sully the memory of my sister with a woman of ill repute.’
Malik turned to Rachel and raised an eyebrow.
‘They have been saying quite a lot, it would seem,’ he said, his tone still jovial.
Omar’s lips pressed together until they formed a thin pink line.
‘There is no need to mock me, Your Highness.’
Rachel saw the moment Malik froze and she felt her own blood turn to ice. She knew then that Malik’s brother-in-law would not leave the tent unscathed.
‘I thought more of you, Omar,’ Malik said, his voice still low and soft. ‘I respected you, but it seems I was wrong.’
Omar flushed a little, but held the Sheikh’s eye.
‘Miss Talbot is my children’s governess, she is a cherished and integral part of our family, and your comments concerning her virtue have offended me deeply.’
‘I was only repeating rumours, Your Highness.’
‘You uttered the words, Omar, take responsibility for them.’
Omar was starting to sag a little as if he had realised his outburst could only have a bad outcome for him.
‘It is small-minded and petty to believe rumours about Miss Talbot’s moral character. In my mind that is as great an insult as if I called your mother or sister a whore. I have selected Miss Talbot carefully as the person to guide my children through their young lives and into adulthood. To suggest that I would choose someone who had anything less than an impeccable reputation also insults me.’
Omar took a step back as Malik continued.
‘I was greatly honoured by the joining of our ancient and noble families when I married your sister, but she is dead, which weakens our link considerably. Do not think we are close enough for you to insult me in such a way and for our relationship to remain unscathed.’
Rachel watched as the blood drained from Omar’s face
and the man held out his hands in supplication.
‘I will not sever all connection with you and your family for the sake of my children, but let me be clear, I will not forget what you said here today.’
Malik stood and strode to the entrance to the tent, holding open one flap.
‘I am offended and hurt by your accusations and your actions today, Omar, but frankly I’m more shocked at your impudence. Whilst I was married to your sister I took my marriage vows very seriously, even if she did not, but now she is gone I am free to do as I choose. If I wish, I could import concubines from every continent and it would be none of your business.’
Omar nodded, wringing his hands.
‘Now leave, and think very carefully before coming to me again.’
Malik’s ex-brother-in-law shuffled out of the tent backwards, bowing as he went.
Rachel watched as Malik let out a long breath and allowed his shoulders to sag.
‘I’m sorry if he offended you,’ he said softly.
Rachel shook her head. ‘You were magnificent.’
Malik stood for a few moments, then returned to the cushions and sank down beside her.
‘I have never been able to see eye to eye with Omar. He is a righteous, pompous man who acts before he thinks and then runs away from the consequences. He is a hard man to respect.’
‘He was your wife’s brother.’
Malik nodded. ‘He’s the head of the family now her father is dead. I pity the rest of them, with Omar at the helm the Saddiqi family’s power and riches will likely dwindle.’
‘Do you think there really are rumours?’ Rachel asked.
Malik turned to her and smiled, and Rachel sensed him relax a little.
‘Of course. There will be rumours that we are lovers. There will be rumours that you are the wife of the English King and have run away to be with me. There will be rumours that you are my secret love child even though we are not of such a dissimilar age. There will be rumours that you are English, French, Italian, African.’
Rachel smiled as he ticked off each rumour on his fingers.
‘People love to gossip and they love to gossip most about their rulers. You have brought the people of Huria an endless supply of possibilities and speculation.’
GOVERNESS TO THE SHEIKH Page 15