Sheik Read Online Free PDF

satins, divans upholstered in rich velvets. And women. Allah, the women were too numerous to count. Short, tall, fat, plump, slim, they were dressed in vivid peacock colors and pale pastels, flowing silks, satins and brocades.
    Some women lounged on divans or sat on pillows upon the floor. Others were bathing naked in a sparkling pool in the center of the main room. Several attendants dressed in coarse robes bustled about, catering to the demands of their charges. Assad beckoned to an older woman and she hurried over to them.
    “Badria is the mistress of the bath. She will see that you are refreshed and fed something before you appear before the sultan.”
    Zara and Badria eyed one another warily. Badria found her tongue first. “You wear the robes of a Berber warrior.”
    “Aye, I
am
a Berber warrior,” Zara proudly admitted.
    Suddenly Badria snatched away Zara’s headdress, releasing a cascade of hair the color of corn silk that reached nearly to her waist. Badria gazed in mute admiration at the combination of oval green eyes, smooth golden skin and hair that shimmered like sunlight.
    “I know of no warriors who look like you and I’ve lived a long time,” Badria contended. “Who are you?”
    “I am Princess Zara, daughter of the great
cadi
Youssef.”
    Badria’s breath hissed through her teeth. “You’re the Berber chieftain’s daughter? Allah save us.”
    The harem wasn’t so isolated from the world that Badria didn’t know what was taking place outside the walls. There were numerous ways of finding out things. Eunuchs and slaves could always be bribed to bring back news of importance.
    “I am hungry,” Zara said boldly. “Bring me food.”
    The women lounging within earshot snickered at Zara’s imperious manner while secretly admiring her bravado.
    “You’ll bathe first, then food,” Badria said, wrinkling her nose as if sniffing something offensive. “You reek of camel dung and dirt. Take off your robes. I’ll find you something decent to wear.”
    Zara was reluctant to remove the badge of her people. Once she shed the distinctive blue robes, she would be just another woman. “You mayshake the dust from my robes but I will wear them to meet the sultan.”
    “You’re a foolish young woman,” Badria contended. “Appearing before the sultan dressed like a man will surely anger him. If you wish to impress him—”
    “I have no desire to impress the sultan,” Zara claimed, interrupting Badria in mid-sentence. “I am Princess Zara, daughter of Youssef. I’m well aware of my fate. Do not badger me, mistress. I will bathe and eat and face the sultan in my own clothing.”
    Never in all her years had Badria met a more obstinate creature. So be it, she thought, disgruntled. At least she’d tried to save the Berber vixen. Defying the Sultan was not wise.
    Zara allowed Badria to disrobe her, paying little heed to the woman’s gasp of shock and outrage when she noted that Zara’s body hair had not been removed.
    “What manner of men are Berbers that they allow their women to keep their body hair?” Badria sniffed. “I will personally see that you appear before the sultan as smooth as a newborn babe.”
    In that respect, Zara knew Berbers and Arabs agreed. Berber men like their women smooth, hairless and clean, but Zara had found little time of late to groom herself properly. Besides, no man had ever seen her undressed. Not even Sayed. The proper time and place had never arrived for them to consummate their love.
    Zara shrugged. “If you wish, for all the good it will do either of us. Never let it be said that Princess Zara met her death with an unclean body.”
    Zara was led to the pool, trying not to feel self-conscious as the sultan’s wives and concubines watched with avid interest. She ignored them as Badria scooped soft soap from a jar and spread it over her body. Then the bath mistress took a flat tool and scraped off the lather, removing both dirt and soap at the same time. Next, her