trinkets. Everywhere he looked memories flooded him of her huge, all-encompassing smile when her father presented her with a jewelled ornament after a business trip, or her diva tantrum when a whimsical wish wasn’t fulfilled immediately.
It was a failing to nitpick his mother, but while Rahim had known he was loved with absolute devotion as a child, he’d experienced a period of abject fear of what his life would be like were that the love be taken away when he’d had a taster of it on his eleventh birthday.
His first vow not to allow love or any emotions resembling it into his life had been uttered that night. It had grown to spurn any overtures remotely resembling it as he grew older. Sex he could deal with. Hell, he’d made it a life choice to indulge in affairs of the flesh even while he conceded that his earliest forays into his shocking lifestyle had been mostly to get his father’s attention.
A sad and bitter truth he still had a hard time swallowing.
Another truth he didn’t want to admit was that if Allegra was to be his saviour, then sex had to be taken off the table.
The pressure in his groin protested at that edict. Ignoring it, Rahim walked through the carved double doors that led to his bedchamber, and out onto his private terrace. He glanced to the left to where the women’s wing was located. His fingers tingled in wild recollection of Allegra’s silky skin and luscious mouth beneath his touch. The need to taste her had been urgent in the extreme. But it was a weakness he had to master.
Perhaps in the future, once his kingdom was on firmer ground and his leadership wasn’t in doubt, he could pick things up with her...
He shook his head and fisted the tingle from his fingers.
Turning abruptly, he strolled to the west wing, the parts that overlooked the grand ballroom, where preparations were being made for the banquet tonight. Exhaling, he accepted that there was really no choice, not when it came to his people.
Their welfare came first and foremost. Selfish needs of the flesh, no matter how bone-crushingly desperate, would have to take second place.
Rahim scrambled to find that keen sense of duty when Allegra opened the door to his knock ninety minutes later.
Fire swept through his veins as he fought to control his breathing. Dressed in a fitted floor-length gown of the deepest azure that almost exactly matched her eyes, and heels that brought her height to his chin, she was a vision of regal beauty that stole his breath away.
‘Good evening,’ she murmured.
He returned the greeting; then, because he couldn’t seem to help himself, he uttered the words burning on his tongue. ‘You look exquisitely beautiful.’
Colour flared beneath her skin in a delicate blush, and she smiled. Rahim’s fingers tingled again with the need to touch, to caress.
‘Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.’
Her hair was styled in layered waves caught on one side by a diamond pin, flowing over her shoulder on the other. The curls he’d spotted in her ponytail earlier were more pronounced now and he had to fight every instinct not to plunge his hand into the rich tresses and test their silky luxury for himself. Preferably a prelude to pulling her close to plunder the peach-coloured gloss that sheened her luscious mouth.
Cursing the gods for the ill-timed bout of lust he couldn’t suppress, he forced a smile, thankful his robe concealed the evidence of his arousal.
‘As we’re a little early, we’ll take the more picturesque route to the ballroom.’
He tensed in expectation of her protest. When she readily nodded, Rahim breathed easier. ‘I’d like that. I’ve been reading a bit more about the fascinating history of the palace, especially the interior decorations. I’d really love to see more of it, if you don’t mind?’
Rahim told himself he should be pleased she was taking a keener interest, and yet the somewhat superficial request made him grimace inwardly, reminding him of past female conquests who’d attempted to impress him with their knowledge of all things Dar-Aman, unknowingly triggering their swift exit from his life. Besides that, Allegra’s furtive glance sparked something within him that he couldn’t put his finger on.
Brushing the feeling away, he reminded himself of the bigger picture. ‘Of course. We’ll start in the bazaar room. I’m told it’s the most photographed room in this part of the world.’
Relief tinged her voice, prompting the spark to escalate, but her words seemed harmless enough. ‘Thank you. I had hoped you wouldn’t hold my earlier lack of grace against me.’ Her smile was wide and alluring and Rahim cautioned himself not to be drawn into it.
‘I would be a fool not to forgive, especially if I hope for you to leave with a better impression of me than you arrived with.’
She glanced at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Rahim fought to suppress a groan.
‘The night’s still young. Let’s not be too hasty,’ she replied wryly.
Rahim sighed with a touch of melodrama. ‘Here I was hoping to enthrall everyone with my utterly adorable personality by the time the appetisers were served.’
Her laugh lit up a dark and cold place within him, and it was all he could do not to stop and drink in the sound.
‘Next you’ll be calling yourself cute and cuddly.’
One arrogant brow quirked, he shook his head. ‘You’re right, let’s not be too hasty.’
It seemed the most natural thing in the world then to offer her his arm. Her hesitation was brief but she slid her slender arm through his and fell into step beside him.
The delicate scent of her perfume engulfed them as he walked her out of the east wing. They were approaching the bazaar room when she stopped. ‘That’s incredible.’
Following the direction of her gaze, he smiled at her reaction to the centrepiece in the atrium, which sat directly underneath the central golden dome.
The solid white marble statue of the horse was surrounded by twelve cherubs wielding large flutes that spewed water into the fountain. The Arabian stallion was displayed in all his magnificent male glory, its wild and thick mane flowing in powerful abandon as it reared out of the water on its hind legs.
When she started to drift towards the fountain, Rahim lifted a hand and dismissed his trailing bodyguards. Their footsteps faded away until the only sound in the space was the splashing of the water.
‘That was my mother’s favourite horse,’ Rahim found himself confessing. ‘When he died in a racing accident, my father had this memorial built for her.’
She walked around the statue, examining it with wide-eyed fascination. When she reached the front of it, her fingers caressed the words carved in stone. ‘What does this mean?’
‘It translates loosely as Cherished One.’
A small smile lifted her mouth, one tinged with sadness a part of him recognised and commiserated with. ‘Every inch of this place is unbelievably breathtaking, almost like a fairy tale.’
Rahim tried to hide his bitterness as he answered. ‘That was the purpose
