Omirabad Sheikhs: The Complete Series by Leslie North

Author:Leslie North [North, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-27T18:30:00+00:00

11

“We’re leaving the palace.”

Clementine turned away from the wardrobe she was looking into and gave him a sultry pout. “Good morning to you, too, Sheikh Samir.”

He laughed. “Good morning. I thought I’d lead with the more important news of the day.”

“Your wife deserves to be worshipped first, not informed of changes to her schedule. Who said I was leaving the palace?”

When Samir had left Clem’s suite the night before, she seemed to have forgiven him—at least a little—for what had happened at lunch. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and it still nagged at him. It nagged at him more now that they’d spent another afternoon in bed together. When they shut the world outside and left all their obligations behind, they were a good fit. An excellent fit. He had to stop thinking about that now, or he’d have her spread out on the crisply made bed inside thirty seconds. How could a man be conflicted on so many levels?

He pushed the thought out of his head. “You’re still my wife for the moment, and that means you’re going to accompany me to one of my favorite places.”

“I’m still your wife, so don’t I get to set—” Clem blinked. “Your favorite places?”

“Yes.” Samir leaned against the doorframe and watched her close the wardrobe carefully and face him. “When I was younger, I spent a lot of time with my uncle—my father’s brother. He was the liaison to the desert tribes then.”

“The desert tribes,” Clem said slowly. “You mentioned that at some point during the flight. Or…in Paris, but…”

“But you were too busy enjoying the city to pay much attention.”

She laughed. “If I was, it was your fault.”

Clem was beautiful this morning in one of the dresses they’d bought in Paris. There hadn’t been enough time to sort through her new things before lunch the previous day, but clearly someone had, and now the patterned fabric slipped down to the perfect length, just above her knees. The dress reminded him of springtime, of fresh flowers and dew on leaves.

Or maybe that was the scent of Clementine’s shampoo, which had left delicate traces of jasmine through the room.

“Please,” he scoffed, a strange lightening in his chest. “As if I’d take a woman on a trip to Paris and make it anything less than incredible.”

Clem raised one eyebrow. “You were telling me about the desert tribes.”

“My uncle was liaison when my father was king, before…before he gave up his position.”

Clementine frowned. “I thought your brother was just coming into power. Or training to be king. Something like that?”

“Before my uncle gave up his position.” Samir’s heart beat faster at the thought of what his uncle had done. “He was matched with a woman and fell deeply in love with her, but she died before their wedding.” Clementine let out a soft noise of regret. “He refused to marry again, even though the tribes stand by the tradition of the royal sons being married by age thirty. So he gave up his position as liaison.

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