Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride by Marguerite Kaye Page A

terracotta pots gave off an odd scent, not mint or pine or coconut, but a mixture of all three, with something else she could not define mingling in there too. Kadar’s soap smelled of coconut. His clothes smelled of lemon. And none of this was helping!
    The stars, Constance reminded herself. ‘Are your eyes accustomed?’ She risked a glance at Kadar, and found his eyes on her. ‘You’re supposed to be looking at heavenly bodies.’
    â€˜I am,’ he said softly. Then he gave himself a little shake and broke eye contact. ‘I’m ready.’
    â€˜Scorpius and Sagittarius,’ Constance said firmly. ‘Scorpius first. You can see his claw pointing north there, and then the curve of his sting there. And there,’ she said, pointing, ‘there is Antares. Tonight, through the telescope, it was a very vivid red, a beating heart right at the centre of the scorpion.’
    â€˜Antares—Equal to Mars,’ Kadar said, ‘from the Greek, they say, but I prefer to think that it is named after Antar, the Arab warrior.’
    â€˜Another warrior. The stars are a bloodthirsty lot, but so very beautiful,’ Constance said with a happy sigh. ‘Look at the Milky Way tonight, it is quite viscous, like a huge ribbon of spilt cream sprinkled with diamonds stretching right across Scorpius and Sagittarius.’ She paused for a moment to drink in the sheer beauty. ‘It never fails to astonish me. Here we are, thinking that our lives are so very important, that all our cares and worries are the only cares and worries that matter, and then you look at all this, and nothing matters.’
    She waved her arm in the direction of the Milky Way. ‘I mean look at it, Kadar, just look. Sagittarius is positively teeming with clusters of stars we don’t even have a number for, never mind a name. Those patches you can see, like mist—no, not mist, shimmering silver clouds, those are new stars forming.’
    Constance rolled onto her side, anxious to see whether he shared her sense of wonder. ‘Think of it,’ she said fervently. ‘Brand new stars forming right up there, an unimaginable distance away, and yet it is happening right before our very eyes. Is it not magical?’
    â€˜Magical,’ Kadar said, turning towards her. ‘And for all we know,’ he said, leaning closer, ‘there could be still more magic happening up there. Things we can’t guess at. Who knows, there may even be other people on other stars looking up at us.’
    â€˜Do you think so? What would they see?’
    â€˜A court astronomer who can turn science into magic. Her hair,’ Kadar said, pushing it gently from her face, ‘is as wild and untrammelled as her soul, when she forgets herself. When she smiles, it is like lifting the veil which covers her true self.’
    He smoothed his hand down her hair, her shoulder, her arm, under the wide sleeve of her robe. Skin on skin. A soft, rhythmic stroking up and down that tingled along her whole body, making her shimmer like the Milky Way high above them. ‘If they looked very closely they would see that she has a way, this court astronomer,’ Kadar continued softly, ‘of making a prince forget his regal duties, and remember only that he is a man.’
    Somehow they were close enough for her knees to brush his legs, for her feet to brush his ankles. ‘She does not mean to,’ Constance said, surrendering to the need to touch him, her fingers tangling in his silky hair. ‘Though it is the same for her. Every day she tells herself, this court astronomer, that he is forbidden, this prince.’
    â€˜And every day, so too does the prince. She is forbidden, he tells himself. But it only makes him want her more. Though he will never...’
    â€˜And she will never...’ Constance whispered.
    â€˜Never,’ Kadar said softly, as his lips claimed hers.
    * * *
    Kissing Constance was like