The Sheikh's Offer (12 page)

***

When Lia had spoken about the one month ceremonies, Daisy had been expecting something formal, long, and impressive. The main hall, decked out in hothouse flowers with a real fountain sparkling at one end was indeed impressive, as were the people who crowded its length. Some of the attendees were dressed in traditional Samaran splendor, others were dressed in western ball gowns and tuxedos, but clearly all were there to impress and stun. Daisy had never felt more out of place in her life.

There were no long speeches or rituals, however. Khilafa, dressed in white robes and handsome as a movie star, had stepped up to the dais. With a glowing grin, he gave a brief speech on his duties as the protector of Samara and how he had found the one who would protect it just as fiercely as he would. He presented a brilliant Lia to thunderous applause. When the tumult died down, they raised their joined hands.

“May all be welcome in our house!” they cried together, and the music had started.

Daisy knew that her sister wouldn't be able to take up her old role of social buffer for her. It didn't stop her from feeling adrift and lost amongst all the beautiful people, though. A few of them smiled at her, but her answering grin, probably nervous and shy, prevented most from approaching. When she saw a few who did want to come near, Daisy couldn't stop herself from ducking through the crowd.

Maybe I just need to loosen up a little,
she thought hopefully.

She made her was to the long refreshments table and was promptly confused by the variety of things offered there. There was a lull in the crowd, so she didn't feel so very pushed, but still, she wasn't sure what she wanted.

“Do you need some help, beautiful girl?”

They were the first words spoken to her since the party began. It was just as well she hadn't been holding a drink because she would have spilled it all over herself.

“I... I don't know...”

The man standing beside her was dressed in an impeccably fitted European tuxedo. The stark black of the suit and the gleaming white of the shirt only served to emphasize the bronze of his skin and the dark luster of his hair. Unlike many of the men at the event, he was completely clean shaven, which gave him a roguish, boy-like look. His black eyes danced with merriment, and his smile was very white and very sharp.

“If you came from America, you will not have many of these drinks available to you, I do not think. Perhaps you would care for some help?”

The calm assurance compared with his muscular frame made her think of Khilafa, she realized. She wondered with a bit of panic whether she was talking with a Samaran noble.

“I would like that a lot,” she said, wishing her voice wasn't so quiet. “I mean, I want to try something new, but I don't want to order something...completely inappropriate, I guess? I mean...”

His soft laugh was utterly without sting or censure.

“Of course. When I was at Oxford, I made an ass of myself because I didn't know how powerful scotch is. Let me help you.”

Daisy thought that he would simply order for her, but instead he stepped close. The crowd at her back meant that she couldn't pull away. Now, she realized how truly large he was, how powerful his frame.

He smells like mint and flowers,
she thought hazily.

“Now, that bottle contains raki. It's from Turkey originally, but Samara has made it its own. Licorice, strong, and a little coarse. Maybe not so suitable for a young lady?”

Daisy bit her lip, but before she could say yes or no, he continued.

“There is tej, which is made from honey. Sweet, lovely, and runs from light to heavy, but still very strong.”

The tej was beautiful, with a soft golden color that immediately drew her eye. Before she could comment, the man went on.

“And, there at the end is something that might suit you. It's not so popular in Samara, but it is a traditional drink in Marat. Lemon juice, orange juice, rosewater, honey syrup – I think you would enjoy it...”

Daisy stared up at him with dismay.

“Are you saying that I should be drinking lemonade?”

His grin was white and sharp.

“Well, you looked a little intimidated by the alcohol...”

“I'm not a child!”

Before he could make a response, a charmingly dressed little girl in a pink Samaran gown walked up to the table, and as Daisy watched with irritation, she asked for the lemonade. She turned a glare on the man standing next to her. He only looked amused, which made her even more irritable.

“Thank you for the advice,” she said, doing her best imitation of Lia when Lia was irritated. “I think I've got it from here.”

The worst part was that the rosewater lemonade did sound good. She loved floral flavors, and she had always had a love of overly sweet drinks. Still, there was a point to be made.

“May I have some of the raki, please?”

Daisy was a little dismayed when the smiling server poured her what looked like an enormous glass of the milky liquid. She took it, feeling less certain by the moment. When she saw the man smiling at her out of the corner of her eye, however, she felt even more determined.

Bracing herself, she took a careful sip. She just barely managed to keep herself from coughing at the rough burn. The licorice flavor was unmistakable, and it scourged her throat.

“How is it?” asked her companion with interest.

“Fine, it's good,” she said. She was proud that she managed to keep her voice relatively level.

“Good. Perhaps when your sister is helping you with your clothes tonight, you will remember to put in a good word for me.”

Daisy frowned. For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about, but then she flushed.

“You were standing behind Khilafa earlier,” she sputtered. “You saw...”

“Less than I would like,” he told her with a sly note to his voice.

If Daisy hadn't been convinced that the alcohol being served was of the best quality, she would have liked to dash it in his face. Lia was practically the queen of the country, she could probably smooth over any trouble that might have caused.

Instead, she took a deep breath, gathering what was left of her dignity.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “I'm afraid I must be off now.”

The man looked like he wanted to protest, but then a woman materialized out of the crowd. Like him, she wore Western garb, a sleek gown in vibrant blue with golden stitching along the seams. There were diamonds at her throat and her ears and venom in her eyes. For just a moment, those eyes set on Daisy, causing the young woman to shiver instinctively.

The man looked faintly irritated, and that look became even darker when she set a hand on the crook of his elbow.

It was all the chance that Daisy needed. She had had plenty of experience fading into the background when she could. She melted away into the crowd like a shadow, still clutching her drink. When she glanced back, she could see the man and woman standing closely together.

Are they married
, she wondered indignantly. If she was married, she wouldn't want her husband giving beverage advice to confused women.

Something about the whole scene gave her a pang, however. He had teased her, mocked her, and perhaps propositioned her, but she couldn't deny that there was something powerfully magnetic about him. As she walked through the crowd, his dark eyes haunted her.

She realized she was still holding her glass of raki. The second sip still burned, but she thought that it was a little less painful. The third sip was even smoother.

It's not so bad,
she said to herself.
I'm here for a party, and after tonight, I'll hang out with Lia for a bit, and then it'll be back to Albany for me...

 
***

The gardens outside the ballroom were dark and lush. She could hear some faint footsteps, some soft words. They told her that she did not walk alone. She had almost finished the glass of raki. Daisy felt obscurely proud of herself. She knew that the alcohol was powerful, but still, she had managed it.

She could feel it making her soft and warm inside. Unless she was very careful where she put her feet, she would have stumbled. The crush of the ballroom had seemed too much, so she had found refuge in the dark gardens. All around her were the scents of jasmine and gardenias and other exotic flowers for which she had no names.

Samara was so beautiful that it made her hurt. She loved the palace, the way it seemed to cradle all of the people within. It was the perfect setting for Khilafa and Lia, who glowed like gods come to earth. Watching them dance together had been enthralling.

“You look pensive, little one.”

The voice came from the darkness beside her, and for some reason, that didn't even seem strange to her.

“Maybe a little,” she said with a smile. “I... It's so beautiful here. It's amazing, all of the history that Samara holds.”

“Oh? Are you an art buyer like your sister to speak so of beauty?”

Daisy laughed. “Oh no, not me. Well, I guess I know a little because Lia's my sister, but no, I'm an interior decorator.”

“Ah, so you are in the business of beauty yourself.”

“Maybe... I tend to think of it as making homes?”

“Oh?”

Most people weren't actually that interested in why she did her work as long as they liked the look of their new homes. Perhaps the speaker from the darkness wasn't interested either, but the raki made her brave.

“Yes. We all need places to live, and so many people just...choose to accept whatever they get. I think that every home should reflect and enhance the people living there. Your home should be a part of you, and you should be a part of your home. That is what I do.”

“Your home must be a beautiful place, then.”

Daisy's laugh was self-deprecating. “I don't know about that. Sometimes, it feels as if I'm so busy building a home that I never think of what I want in one. Something I do for all my clients is that I get to know them. I want their home to be real to them, you know? Maybe I just don't know myself well enough to create a place that suits me.”

“That sounds sad.”

“Maybe it is. All I know is how to make homes for other people. I guess that is a little sad. But they are very beautiful homes.”

There was a soft chuckle, rich and smooth as chocolate. It warmed her up from the toes.

“I'm sure you do.”

“I really do. I always want my clients to have the best.”

The weariness from her long trip and the exhaustion from the party were beginning to wear on her. She felt herself waver on her feet a little. Suddenly, there was a strong arm around her.

“Hey, I don't-”

“Shh, little one. I'm safe, and so are you. You simply look a little...worn out.”

“I am,” she said, the alcohol loosening her tongue more than she would have guessed. “I could sleep for days.”

“Well, we'll see about getting you to bed, then, shall we?”

Daisy muttered a token protest, but bed sounded lovely. She wanted to get out of her gorgeous dress, shut the door on all of the beautiful people, and dream away the rest.

“This isn't an invitation,” she said. If she were sober, she would have been horrified at her bluntness. Instead, she only saw it as appropriate. “I mean it. I don't... I don't go to bed with...with just anyone.”

Or anyone at all, but the nice voice in the darkness didn't need to know that.

“I can see that you are not like that at all,” he assured her. “Your honor is safe with me, but perhaps we should get you into bed before you fall over?”

She muttered something in affirmative. The alcohol was hitting her hard now. She drew herself up as straight as she could, which honestly wasn't very straight at all.

“Take me to my room, please,” she said, doing a credible impression of Lia.

“As my lady wishes,” was the response, and if there was a slight grin in that voice, she decided magnanimously that she would forgive it.

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