His Defiant Desert Queen(48)
It was warm in the garden, and fragrant with orchids and lilies and Mikael pulled her close to his side as he led her along the narrow path lined with candles, down an even more narrow stone staircase to a secret room inside the grotto where a table had been set for them among a sea of pale blue silk cushions.
The grotto was made entirely of stone and illuminated with a dozen blue glass lanterns that hung from the pale ivory stone ceiling. Water lapped in a small pool while above them came the sound of rushing water tumbling through over the waterfall.
“This is unbelievable.” Jemma breathed, taking a seat among the cushions, very aware of Mikael as he sat down next to her.
He’d come to her tonight not in traditional Saidia robe and head covering, but in black trousers and an elegant dress shirt and once seated at the table, he proceeded to roll the sleeves of his shirt back on his muscular forearms, and then open the shirt another button at the collar, revealing a hint of bronzed skin just below his throat.
“That’s better,” he said.
She swallowed hard. He’d shocked her earlier in the towel, but it was just as shocking to see him now in Western clothes. He didn’t look like a sheikh. He just looked gorgeous.
He looked at her. “You don’t think so?”
“No, you look...quite...good,” she murmured, thinking good was a total understatement. He looked fantastic.
“Quite good,” he repeated, lips curving slightly. “I will take that as a compliment coming from you.”
“I’m sure you are complimented all the time. You must know you are very beautiful for a man.”
He laughed then. It was the first time she’d ever heard him laugh, really laugh, and the flash of his straight white teeth against his bronzed skin, and the crinkle of his eyes made her heart race.
“I don’t get complimented very often,” he said.
“No? Why not?”
“I think people might be afraid to pay me compliments.”
She arched a brow. “What do you do? Chop off heads?”
“No. But I have a reputation for being no-nonsense.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
His teeth flashed again but he said nothing else, and for the next hour staff came and went, bearing platters of food until the low table was covered. Chicken with tomatoes and honey. Lamb cutlets, tangy beef, coconut rice, a tagine of yam, carrots and prunes.
After the past several days of stress, Jemma was glad to just relax, and eat, and sip her wine. Mikael was his most charming tonight. During dinner he told her stories, amusing stories. “You said earlier you’re not a fan of jewels and clothes,” he said, leaning against the cushions. “So what do you like? Art? Antiques? Cars?”
“Books.” She could see she’d surprised him. “I love to read.”
“Fiction?”
“Fiction, non-fiction, everything. Although when I was a girl, I only wanted to read romances. My mother was convinced I’d run off and join the circus or something equally risky and foolish.”
“What will she think when she discovers you’ve married me?”