Zara rose and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Restlessness filled her and she knew the cause. Rafe. She didn’t understand anything about him.
She also knew that she was playing a very dangerous game with him. She’d learned a few things in the twenty-eight years she’d spent on the planet, and one of them was that men didn’t lie about certain things. When a guy said he didn’t do relationships, she needed to listen. The problem was, she didn’t want to.
Zara sighed. Rafe had told her that she was a marriage-and-kids kind of woman and that he wasn’t a marriage-and-kids kind of guy. Her gut told her that he was telling the truth on both counts. Unfortunately, knowing he was a mistake didn’t take away his appeal.
She wanted him.
Some of the attraction was sexual. He made her think about things she’d never considered. For the first time in her life she was responding to a man based on chemistry. But there was more to it than that. She couldn’t dismiss everything as being due to hormones.
She liked him.
Zara put her fingertips on the cool glass. She wished it was otherwise, but wishing didn’t change things. She liked being with him, talking with him. She even liked it when they argued. He was straightforward and so masculine. He was kind, although she suspected he would hate that description. He was also attracted to her.
She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been interested in her body with the same intensity Rafe showed. She could see his desire, as well as feel it. How was she supposed to resist that? The combination of sexual attraction and general liking weren’t a temptation she could walk away from. Around him she felt safe and yet strong. She’d never experienced that particular combination before.
She had it bad for the man, but somehow she was going to have to find a way to get over him. No way was she going to allow herself to get her heart broken.
“This is the sword an ancestor of mine carried during the Crusades,” King Hassan said when they paused in front of a long, dangerous-looking sword on a stand. Jewels and gold decorated the handle, but their beauty didn’t detract from the honed edge of the blade.
Hassan gently touched the tip. “During some battles, blood ran like a river through the valleys of the Holy Land.”
Zara stared at the antique weapon. She could imagine it covered in blood. “I didn’t realize that Bahania had been involved in the Crusades.”
Hassan shook his head. “There wasn’t any fighting here, but the true believers traveled to keep out the infidels.” His expression turned serious. “It was a time of great unrest, and many died. Over the years, the royal family began to see that an attitude of tolerance was better for our people. By the sixteenth century, all were allowed to worship as each saw fit. We were very progressive.”
“Apparently.” Zara knew that in the sixteenth century, Europe had been a land of intolerance, especially between those of different beliefs.
“We were less progressive about women,” Hassan said with an apologetic tone. “The royal harem existed until my father’s time.”
“I can’t imagine such a thing.”
“While I can imagine it, I’m not sure how a ruling monarch would find the time,” Hassan said teasingly. “Matters of state keep me very occupied.”
They continued to walk through the halls of the oldest part of the palace. Treasures filled every corner, including paintings, stunning mosaics, statues and carvings done directly into the walls and ceilings.
A small gray cat strolled up to join them. Hassan bent over and picked up the feline, cradling it in his arms.
“How are you, my precious one?” he asked, his tone low and affectionate.
A small tag hung from a braided collar. Hassan touched the tag with his finger, turning it so he could read the name.
“Ah. You are Muffin.” He shook his head. “Occasionally I permit school children to come to the palace and name the new cats. I frequently regret the visits.”
Zara laughed. “You don’t approve of Muffin as a name for a cat?”
“Not a royal one.” Still, he scratched the cat’s head and rubbed it under the chin. The tame creature purred, relaxing in Hassan’s arms.