‘Tomorrow we shall ride,’ announced Khalim as tiny little cups of thick, dark coffee were placed before them.
Darian dropped a single sugar cube into his cup and absently stirred at it. ‘I’ve never ridden before.’
‘It alarms you?’
Darian’s eyes narrowed into golden shards. ‘On the contrary. I have always enjoyed rising to a challenge.’
‘Of course. But I shall give you our quietest mount.’
‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ Darian’s voice was low, but it carried with it a steely determination, and Lara couldn’t miss the unmistakable look of horror which crossed the face of one of the servants. You wouldn’t need to speak English to be aware that this guest was arguing with the Prince!
‘I will take a mount that you favour,’ Darian emphasised.
This time Khalim frowned. ‘But it would be sheer folly to put a novice on a spirited horse!’
‘And would you not do the same in my situation?’ challenged Darian softly.
The eyes of the two men clashed a silent duel over the ornate table, until at last Khalim nodded his head.
‘Indeed I would.’
There was silence for a moment, as if another unspoken test had been set and passed.
‘And can I come and watch?’ asked Lara.
They turned to look at her, as if they had forgotten she was there.
‘Of course you can,’ said Khalim indulgently. ‘You don’t mind, Darian?’
‘Why should I mind?’ But of course Darian did mind. He minded a lot. He had never ridden before, and as Khalim had pointed out he was a novice. Did he really want Lara to witness him at the very bottom of a learning curve—he who liked to be seen to be accomplished in all things?
‘Good. That is settled.’ Khalim rose to his feet. ‘You will forgive me if I leave you now? I have affairs of state to attend to, and I must telephone Rose before she retires. You may linger here, over coffee—or one of the servants will show you where a television can be found, should you wish it. Or…’ His voice softened. ‘You can take Lara for a walk through the rose gardens—they are smaller than those at the Golden Palace, but they are beautiful indeed, and the perfect place for lovers on such a starlit evening.’
Lara opened her mouth to protest, to end this ridiculous charade here and now, but before she could speak Darian had answered for her.
‘Thanks, but I think we’ll go straight to bed. Lara’s very tired—aren’t you, darling?’
The mock concern in his voice made her want to rail against him. But what could she possibly say that would not embarrass her host? She nodded, and even managed to curve her lips into a smile. ‘Very tired,’ she agreed demurely.
She saw Khalim narrow his eyes fractionally. ‘Then I will bid you both goodnight and sweet dreams.’
They listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps as they echoed down the marble corridor, and then Darian bent his head to speak softly in her ear.
‘Why, Lara—you smiled like you almost meant it then,’ he murmured. ‘How useful it must be to have a talent for acting—you can use it in any given situation!’
The subtle masculine scent of him was playing havoc with her senses. She wanted to sway against him, to have him hold her close to him, to kiss her and blot out all this pain and uncertainty. But she fought it, turning on him instead. ‘How dare you imply that we can’t wait to get back to our room for a night of hot, no-holds-barred sex?’
Well, it was pretty easy to read what was uppermost in her mind. ‘Is that what I was doing?’ he questioned innocently, but the ache in his body felt far from innocent. ‘Then we’d better make our way back, hadn’t we—and quickly? I should hate to keep you waiting for your hot, no-holds-barred sex, Lara!’
Her eyes flashed blue fury at him, but she kept a tight rein on it. She would hang onto her dignity. She wasn’t going to answer him back there and then. Not with a silent servant guiding them back to their quarters. Still, he was labouring under a very big misapprehension indeed if he thought that she was about to leap into bed with him.
The servant opened their door and Lara went straight into the bathroom without a word. She locked the door behind her, not emerging until her face was scrubbed clean and her teeth brushed. She was wearing a pair of pyjamas which, though light and silky for the sultry temperature, could by no stretch of the imagination ever be described as sexy.
Darian looked up from where he had been flicking through the book she had been reading earlier. He had removed his cuff-links, she noted, but that was all.
‘Finished in the bathroom, darling?’ he questioned sardonically.
‘It’s all yours.’ Lara hesitated, then pointedly looked at the long, low divan which stood underneath the shuttered windows. ‘That divan looks very comfortable, doesn’t it?’