"No matter," he said easily. "I assumed that either you were delayed by the unexpected or you've developed an Eastern sense of time."
"A little of both, perhaps."
As she entered the room, he studied her face, comparing it with the past. The rounded features of youth had slimmed and hardened as the strong underlying bone structure became more prominent. Juliet would never be pretty in the soft, helpless, feminine way that many men liked. Instead, she was quite shatteringly beautiful.
Gesturing at the table, she said, "I thought you might like to eat Western-style, and the table here in my study was best suited for that."
"It will be a pleasant change, assuming that I haven't forgotten how to use a fork in the last three months."
As she gave a slight smile, a man and two boys entered with trays of food, which they set on a worktable along one side of the study. The man said, "Do you wish anything else, Gul-i Sarahi?"
"No, Ruhollah. We shall serve ourselves. You may retire for the evening."
The three bowed, then departed.
Juliet explained, "I thought it would be best if we had no interruptions."
"I agree. I also just realized what your name means. I had thought it was a Tuareg word that I didn't recognize, but it must be the Persian phrase gul-i sara-i. Flower of the desert."
"It's because of my coloring." She lifted a self-conscious hand to her bright head. "The first time we met, Saleh called me Desert Flower and the name stuck."
"Why did you prefer to speak French rather than Tamahak this afternoon?" he asked curiously. "I thought you had learned the Tuareg language when you lived in Tripoli."
"I did, but you spoke Tamahak so well that I was afraid you would notice if I made a mistake. I haven't spoken Tamahak in years, so French seemed safer." She lifted a bottle. "Would you like some wine?"
Ross raised his brows. "That must be hard to come by in this part of the world."
"Yes, but I like to keep a little wine and brandy on hand for guests." She opened the bottle and poured two glasses of red wine, keeping her fingers away from his as she handed him one of the glasses. "Since alcohol is forbidden to Muslims, there is no problem with the servants drinking up the wine cellar, as there often is in England."
For the next several minutes she was busy ladling soup into bowls and setting platters of bread and other food on the table.
Ross watched in silence, taking an occasional sip of the wine. He remembered her blue silk gown very clearly. She looked better than ever in it, for her lithe body had added a few more curves. In fact, she looked so provocative that he wondered if she had deliberately set out to tease or seduce him, and if so, which of those two things would be harder to endure.
She glanced up at him, her fiery hair swirling and dancing around her shoulders as she turned her head. The sight was enough to make a man forget every wise resolution he had ever made, yet as her gaze met his, uncertainty was briefly visible in the clear gray depths of her eyes. At seventeen, Juliet had not understood how intensely alluring she was. To Ross's surprise, she still had that same quality of innocence.
Which had to be false, considering the swath she had cut through Mediterranean manhood before disappearing into Asia Minor. The rumors about her behavior had been so lurid that he would not have believed them, had he not had irrefutable proof. But he acquitted her of any desire to tempt him tonight; if that had been her aim, she would be doing a better job of it. Instead, her wariness seemed as great as his own.
Oblivious of his speculations, Juliet said, "Your two servants are here, none the worse for wear. They're staying in the men's quarters."
"I'm glad to hear that." Trained to be polite under any circumstances, Ross pulled out a chair for her. After a moment's hesitation Juliet sat down. Her silky hair brushed the back of his hand as she did, and Ross jerked back as if scalded. His mother's training in manners had not extended to how a man should behave when dining with an estranged wife who wished that she had never met him.
Taking his own seat, Ross asked, "How long have you lived here, Juliet?"
"Over nine years now. After I..."—she hesitated, then chose a neutral term—"left England, I traveled through the Mediterranean, then into the Ottoman Empire. As you know, I lived in Teheran as a girl, when my father was posted there. I wanted to see Persia again, so I spent quite some time journeying through the country. I was about to return to Constantinople when I discovered Serevan."
Ross tasted his soup. It contained yoghurt, rice, and mint and was delicious. "Was the fortress a ruin then?"
"Yes. This eastern frontier of Persia is terribly poor from the constant Turkoman raids. Many of the villagers were taken to Bokhara as slaves, and others left for safer places."