The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife by Leslie North

Author:Leslie North [North, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

Letting out a breath, Nasim nodded. "Kazakh is like me—a captive in luxury. She has the best food, the best care, but she is never truly free. Ah, look, she's spotted something—a rabbit perhaps. See how she circles. She'll dive soon, if she thinks the prey worth a chase."

He kept his stare on Kazakh, but he could feel Ginni's gaze on him now. "Ever thought about letting her go free?" she asked, her voice soft.

He looked down at her. "She is also like me in that regard—neither of us would do well without the surroundings we have grown up in. We are creatures of our world."

Ginni gave a snort and looked up at Kazakh again. "That sounds more like an excuse to me."

Kazakh's cry pulled Nasim's stare from Ginni. He needed his focus to be on the falcon now. Kazakh missed her first try at prey and came back to his arm when he whistled. He started to explain the finer points of falconry to Ginni—how it was not so much the hunt as the pleasure of watching Kazakh fly. And how Kazakh had infinite patience.

"She never minds if she misses. Never gets frustrated and quits. She knows that sooner or later, she will succeed."

In the end, Kazakh came back with a snake in her talons. That had Ginni giving a small screech and hiding behind Nasim. He almost laughed at her, but she glared at him, warned him snakes were no laughing matter, and told him he could just get rid of it, and she didn't care if it was already dead or not.

He rewarded Kazakh for her hunting, gave orders for her to have some of the snake in her meal that evening, and led Ginni from the rear gardens and back inside. They'd spent more than a few hours outside, and he was glad to step back into the cool of the palace. Ginni walked with him, asking questions about how he'd gotten started with falconry, if it was popular in Zahkim, and if he'd ever lost one of his falcons, having it just take off.

"I mean, don't you think they'd want to be out in the open sky, really?"

"Perhaps. But Kazakh has always come back to me when I call. I think that must mean she is content. As I hope you will be." He ushered her into the central gardens.

He'd ordered a meal to be waiting for them—fresh oysters, crab and lobster flown in just for this meal, the finest aged beef from Japan, pheasant from his favorite restaurant in London, capon from Paris, and even a few dishes from Ginni's New Orleans, made with catfish and alligator. Ginni's eyes widened as she took in the candlelit table—set with the palace china and crystal only for the two of them. Nasim snapped his fingers, and music from a jazz band hidden at the far end of the garden sweetened the evening air.

Ginni glanced at him. "Wow—you sure know how to impress."

He held her chair for her, and the dishes were served to them, one after the other.

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