Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride by Marguerite Kaye

to find you here.’
    â€˜And I am glad of the company since I spend the greater part of my day alone.’
    â€˜Are you lonely? Would you like me to arrange for you to have some female companionship? A wife of one of the council members, perhaps? I’m afraid that none of them will be able to speak English, but...’
    â€˜I’m not lonely,’ Constance said, meaning it. ‘I have your beautiful mare to ride along the beach during the day, and your wonderful telescope to transport me to the stars at night.’
    â€˜You have not yet resorted to talking to yourself then?’
    She chuckled. ‘No, but I have got into the habit of talking to the telescope. “We’re going to see if we can find Perseus tonight.” That kind of thing.’
    â€˜And did you? See Perseus tonight, that is?’
    â€˜No, he is a fickle hero and prefers the winter sky.’
    â€˜I have always thought him a rather cowardly hero,’ Kadar said, sinking onto the cushions beside her. ‘He is said to have slain Medusa in her sleep.’
    â€˜And then he cut off her head and used it to turn Cetus to stone, when he probably had a perfectly good sword he could have used. You are quite right. Not a noble hero at all.’
    She sensed, rather than saw his smile. ‘Algol, the star which forms Medusa’s head in Perseus, is known in our language as the head of the demon, sometimes the ghoul. What were you looking at tonight, if not our Greek coward?’
    â€˜Scorpius and Sagittarius.’ It was very dark up here on the terrace. She could see only shadows of Kadar’s face. The gleam of his teeth, the glint of his eyes. His hair looked more tousled than usual. She could feel the heat of his body, shoulder to arm, thigh to foot, beside her on the cushions. He was wearing his preferred informal robes, a tunic and trousers, in some soft cotton material. ‘You’re up very late. Could you not sleep?’
    â€˜I was working.’
    â€˜On your plans for the kingdom?’
    â€˜Yes. They are almost ready to be revealed to my council. Would you like to see them?’
    â€˜You know I would.’
    â€˜Soon, then. But first, I must show you my library. I should have done so before now.’
    She had tried very hard not to miss him these last three days, but she had failed miserably. His presence filled the palace. When she was alone here on the roof terrace, or when she mounted her horse at the stables, she had the sense that she had only just missed encountering him. It felt as if he had recently vacated every room she entered. The reality of him, the flesh and blood of him sitting beside her on the cushions was so much more than her imagination had been able to conjure. Her skin felt as if it was straining, reaching towards him. ‘The telescope is still aligned,’ Constance said a little desperately, trying to distract herself, ‘if you would like to make some observations of your own?’
    â€˜I’d much prefer you to show me what you’ve been looking at.’
    This was one of the many things she had allowed herself to imagine. Constance wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope with the reality. ‘You’ll have to lie back.’
    â€˜I’ll get some more cushions.’
    A very sensible thing to do. She should have thought of it, she chided herself as Kadar collected several from under the awning, setting them out about a foot from hers, before lying down next to her. She followed his lead, awkwardly arranging the full skirts of her robe around her. She had kicked off her slippers, as usual. It didn’t matter, he couldn’t see her bare feet in this light.
    â€˜I’ll give you a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness,’ she said, when what she actually wanted was a moment to adjust to the intimacy of having Kadar lying full length beside her. The night air was soft, heavy with diffused heat. The ferns in their