Page 13 of Kismet

Chapter 4

Trees lined every path inside the Agdal Gardens, and the path encircling the small glade Shaheen stood in was no different. More than a dozen pomegranate trees encircled the marble gazebo, their dark green leaves forming a natural canopy of shade against the afternoon sun. Standing at the foot of the stone structure, Major Hastings and his new wife greeted their wedding guests with smiles and laughter.

Having already passed through the short receiving line, Shaheen was content to stand on the fringes of the small gathering and wait. From where he stood, he had a clear view of Allegra standing off to one side of the happy couple conversing with one of the major’s subordinates. It had only been two days since that night on the Sultan’s terrace, but forgetting her had been far more difficult than he expected. Erotic images of her filled his nights, while he spent his daylight hours testing his willpower against the persistent desire to find some way to see her again.

His willpower had always won out, if only by a thin margin. Then when he’d seen her precede the bride down the aisle just a short time ago, that slim thread had snapped. It had been impossible to take his eyes off her. She looked like a Titian model. Voluptuous curves and skin with the satiny sheen of an unripe peach made her the ideal subject for one of the master’s paintings. Even the deep blue satin gown she wore clung to her curves like the caress of an artist’s brush, reluctant to leave the canvas.

When she’d turned to watch the bride move toward the gazebo’s makeshift altar, her eyes had met his almost immediately. Intense emotion had darkened her lovely features, then in a flash, it had disappeared. A mask of disdain had swept over her face as if he was no more than a horsefly. He’d expected anger, not scorn.

It was one thing to reluctantly believe her principled, but the idea of her being insulted by his proposal the other night seemed too far-fetched. Inwardly, he scoffed at the idea. She was a courtesan. Trading her favors for money and jewels was how she earned her living. Her current demeanor was nothing more than a ploy to manipulate him into paying a higher price for her services.

The thought irritated him. He refused to let her get the best of him, but coaxing her into his bed wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d like. And seduction was precisely what he’d decided on where Allegra was concerned. He’d known as much the other night on the terrace and had simply been putting off the inevitable by staying away from her.

Now, as he watched Allegra smile at the British officer facing her, a twinge of annoyance pricked at him. He recognized the possessive emotion flowing through him and frowned. The last time he’d allowed himself to feel such an emotion had been with Frances. The memory made his jaw harden painfully. He needed to remember that bedding Allegra Synnford was simply an exercise in satisfying his cock, nothing more. Almost instantly, his hands flexed into tight fists. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but he knew full well his fascination with the woman went far deeper than he really wanted to admit.

Every muscle in his body tensed as he saw Allegra’s suitor accept her glass and hurry away with the clear intent of providing her with more refreshment. The moment the officer was out of sight, Allegra quickly skirted a large bed of yellow roses and disappeared down one of the paths leading away from the glade.

No doubt she’d arranged a tryst with Wilberforth. It didn’t matter, because he was about to change her mind. Without hesitating, he took another path that would enable him to follow her with little effort. He lengthened his stride and followed the tree-lined footpath at a quick pace. As he rounded the corner of the path, he saw Allegra bent over a bed of Turk lilies. The dark pink flowers had brushed their pollen across one of her full breasts, and he immediately wondered if her nipples were the same dusky color as the flowers.

The sand beneath his leather shoes did little more than whisper his approach, and when he cleared his throat, she jerked upright with a soft cry of surprise. The moment she recognized him, her eyes narrowed with anger.

“Monsieur?” Coated with icy contempt, the one-word question was meant to wither every part of him into oblivion. He assessed her mood in silence for a long moment before bowing slightly.

“For all its beauty, Marrakech is not always a safe haven. You should not be out here alone.”

He half expected her to emasculate him with a blistering response, but instead consternation furrowed her forehead. The dismay on her face decisively crushed his assumptions as to why she’d entered the gardens unescorted. She’d ventured into the gardens for no other purpose than the one she’d had the other night. Solitude. The thought didn’t please him. Once again, she’d shattered another preconceived notion of his.

“I shall heed your warning, monsieur, and return to the reception.” The cool response revealed none of her disappointment, but he saw the emotion darkening the green of her eyes.

As she turned back the way she’d come, he quickly stepped past her to bend over a belladonna lily. The movement effectively blocked her escape route. Silky smooth against his fingers, the lavender-edged flower reminded him of her soft skin. The moment his fingers traced the bell-shaped bottom of the bloom, the image of another delicately curved bottom flashed in his head. He dismissed it as a romantic fancy brought on by lust.

Doing so didn’t assuage the tension stiffening his muscles. Nor did it help matters when the honey-lemon scent of her drifted across his shoulder to mingle with the flower’s fragrance. His nostrils flared at the pleasurable smell. As it did that night on the Sultan’s terrace, her simple scent surprised him. Given her reputation, he’d expected a musky perfume, something exotic, not something so simple and natural.

“I offended you the other evening,” he said, without looking at her.

“Is that an apology?” Although anger still laced its way through her voice, he heard the slight crack in her icy demeanor.

“You are an enigma, ma belle. You display scruples where other women in your position would not.”

“I’ll assume that’s an apology,” she said in a dry voice.

He straightened and turned to face her. The chilly demeanor she’d displayed initially had softened and he pressed his advantage. “Would you like to visit a spot in the gardens where you can see the Koutoubia Mosque and the Atlas Mountains simply by turning around?”

Curiosity swept across her face before she met his gaze and retreated behind a polite mask of indifference. He bit back a smile. Despite her efforts to hide it, he’d piqued her interest. He stretched out his hand to her in a silent invitation. Doubt clouded her face and a pink tongue slipped past her teeth to lick at a plump upper lip. It was a tiny, unrehearsed action, and yet his blood blazed with a sudden desire to pull her into his arms.

Was this what drew men to her? Her ability to entice them with delicate gestures that were completely natural and without artifice? He clenched his jaw. More likely she was so well skilled in arousing a man that all of her movements had become second nature over time. Did it matter? This wasn’t the past, and he had no illusions as to what Allegra was, what he wanted from her, or what he was prepared to give her. He arched his eyebrow at her with more than a hint of arrogance.

“Is it me you fear, chérie or yourself?”

“Neither.” She sent him a glare of annoyance. “I’m simply debating whether the view would be worth the time I’m forced to spend in your company.”

The tart response left him speechless for a long moment before he laughed deeply. It had been a blunt, honest response and he liked her for it. Perhaps a little too much. “I promise the view will not disappoint you.”

Her expression wavered between curiosity and distrust. Curiosity won. “I accept your offer, monsieur, but only because there is no other escort available to me.”

“You flatter me,” he said with sardonic amusement.

“I didn’t mean to.” She arched an eyebrow at him before waving him to lead the way. “Shall we—preferably in silence.”