Never Seduce a Sheikh(19)
“It’ll be a late night then?”
“Probably. Also . . . ” Another pause. “The chiefs are rather more blunt here than those you met last night at the palace.”
Oh, fantastic. So there would be more questions about her husband and family, or rather lack of husband and family. Perhaps comments about why she remained unmarried. Disapproval. Still, she’d handled it the night before, she could handle it again.
“I’m sure I can manage.”
“I am sure you can. You will also need to dress appropriately.”
“Oh?” She raised a brow. “Not a cocktail frock then?”
Amusement glimmered in his eyes. “Not this time. Something a little more traditional is required here.”
“Traditional?”
“Tribal dress. Robes and a headscarf. I took the liberty of bringing along a selection for you to choose from.”
The idea irritated her—she’d bet anything the other male CEOs wouldn’t have had to don traditional male tribal dress in order to impress the tribes. “I suppose this is necessary?”
“No, but it will be noted and appreciated, and seen as a mark of respect if you do.”
She didn’t want to be treated differently because she was female and a deep part of her rebelled fiercely at the idea. But then, she didn’t want to disrespect a people who had already gone through much due to the actions of the previous sheikh. Neither did she want her actions reflect badly on Isma’il. He’d told her he was trying to heal his country and she believed him. Admired him for it. She knew determination when she saw it—she had the same determination within herself, after all.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Harkness?” he asked softly.
Lily lifted her chin. “Not at all. I’d be happy to wear the robes. Send them to me when you’re ready.”
* * *
Isma’il strode across the expanse of rocky ground between his tent and Lily’s, the traditional robes he wore swirling out behind him, the lanterns strung between the tents sending flickering light into the dense darkness of the desert night. Already the chiefs were gathering in the big banquet tent across the camp, but before he and Lily made their entrance, he wanted a private moment in which to see her in the traditional robes of the tribes. It was important that he check to make sure the chiefs found nothing disrespectful in her dress. That she be above reproach.
At least, that’s what he told himself. But the anticipation that arrowed through him as he approached her tent had nothing to do with the chiefs or checking she was dressed appropriately. He wanted to see how she would look in traditional tribal robes for himself.
Isma’il didn’t care to examine his motivation—there were too many forbidden thoughts if he looked in that direction too closely—but he would allow himself this. After all, there was no harm in merely looking was there?
Reaching the tent’s entrance, he pulled aside the flap.
An electric lamp powered by the mini-generator he’d had his people bring with him, cast a pool of light in the center of the tent. Lily stood in the middle of it, fiddling with a long fall of blue and gold silk.
She wore the robes he’d had delivered to her tent earlier that afternoon. A fitting tunic of deep gold that reached mid-calf, with long, loose sleeves and embroidered all over in metallic thread. Underneath, she wore gold close fitting trousers with gold sandals on her feet.
He stopped, the breath catching in his throat.
Back in the palace, in her golden dress, she’d looked like a goddess.
In the robes of the desert tribes, she looked like a queen.
Her head lifted and she turned, dark eyes meeting his. And he allowed himself a certain sense of masculine satisfaction as those dark eyes widened.
“You are stunned by my magnificence I see, Ms. Harkness.”
“Stunned would be going a little far. Surprised, is perhaps more accurate. I didn’t realize you would be in traditional dress too.”
“But of course. I am their ruler and it is proper to do so at such occasions.”
She gave him another glance, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m not sure what I’m wearing is traditional.”
“It is not.” He stepped into the tent, letting the flap slide close behind him.
Lily’s gaze was cool. “And why is that? I thought adhering to tradition was important?”
He’d been very deliberate when he’d chosen the robes to take out to the desert with them. Oh, the chiefs would find nothing to complain about in her dress, he’d made sure of that. But after seeing the response of his ministers to her the night before, he’d decided that capitalizing on the advantages she did have wouldn’t go amiss. Being female could work in her favor if she played it right.