The Governess and the Sheikh Read Online Free PDF Page B

wasn’t fat, which she’d been expecting simply because Celia told her that it was a sign of affluence, and she knew Prince Jamil to be exceedingly rich. But the thin tunic was unforgiving. Prince Jamil’s body showed no sign of excess. He was more—lithe.
    The word surprised Cassie. Apt as it was, she hadn’t ever thought of a man in such a way before. It was his stance, maybe; the way he looked as if he was ready to pounce. A line of goose bumps formed themselves like sentries along Cassie’s spine. Celia was right. PrinceJamil was not a man to cross. As he put his hands together in the traditional welcome, Cassie tried to sneak a quick look at his face, to no avail. ‘Lady Cassandra. As-salamu alaykum ,’ Prince Jamil said. ‘Peace be with you.’
    â€˜ Wa-alaykum as-salam , Your Highness,’ Cassie replied from behind her veil, her voice raspy with thirst, ‘and with you also.’ She caught a glimpse of white teeth as he smiled in response to her carefully rehearsed Arabic. Or to be more accurate, he made something approximating a smile, which lasted for about two seconds before he held out his hand in greeting to Ramiz, and then ushered him into the throne room, where a servant pulled the organdie curtains into place, thus effectively obscuring them from view. Cassie was left to follow another man who emerged from the shadows to lead her towards the smaller of the two large tents.
    â€˜I am Halim, Prince Jamil’s man of business. The prince asks me to ensure you have all you require. Refreshments will be served to you in your tent.’
    â€˜But—I assumed I would dine with Prince Jamil and Ramiz—I mean Prince Ramiz.’
    â€˜What can you be thinking of to suggest such a thing?’ Halim looked at the dusty-veiled female who was to be the Princess Linah’s governess with horror, thinking that already his worst fears were being confirmed. She had no idea of the ways and customs of the East. ‘You are not in London now, Lady Cassandra. We do things very differently here—Prince Jamil would be shocked to the core.’ The latter statement was a lie, for Prince Jamil was forever lamenting the outmoded segregation of the sexes at meal times, but this upstartgoverness was not to know that, and the sooner she was put firmly in her place the better.
    â€˜Please, don’t mention it to him,’ Cassie said contritely. ‘I did not mean to offend. I beg your pardon.’
    â€˜It shall be so, but you would do well to heed my warning, Lady Cassandra. Daar-el-Abbah is a very traditional kingdom. You must tread extremely carefully.’ Halim bowed and held back the heavy tapestry that formed the door of the tent. Cassie stepped across the threshold and turned to thank him, but he was already gone. She stared in wide-eyed amazement at the carpets, the wall hangings, the divans and cushions, the carved chests and inlaid tables. Another heavy tapestry, depicting an exotic garden in which nymphs sported, split the tent into two. In the smaller of the compartments she found, to her astonishment, a bath of beaten copper filled with warm water and strewn with petals. It had a delightful fragrance, orange blossom, she thought. A selection of oils in pretty glass decanters stood beside it on a little table, along with a tablet of soap and the biggest sponge Cassie had ever seen.
    She needed no further encouragement, stripping herself of her travel-worn clothes and sinking with a contented sigh into the bath. She lay luxuriating in it for a long time, allowing the waters to ease her aching muscles. Eventually she sat up and washed her hair, then chose a jasmine oil with which to anoint herself before donning one of her own nightgowns and a loose wrapper in her favourite shade of cerulean blue. Her hair she brushed out and left loose to dry in its natural curl.
    â€˜Since I’m obviously surplus to requirements whilethe men discuss weighty