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Chapter Two

Munir gazed in utter astonishment at the attractive woman dressed incongruously in male clothes, a female who was quite clearly not the British diplomat Sir Francis Bruntsfield. Tall, slim and creamy-skinned, there could be no greater contrast between this woman and the sultry beauties who occasionally occupied his harem…yet there was something strikingly attractive about her nonetheless. Perhaps it was those wide-spaced hazel eyes staring at him defiantly, or the determined tilt to her mouth? Regardless, her behaviour was outrageous! "Who are you? Where is Sir Francis?"

Silvia had visited any number of royal courts, met countless members of the aristocracy, but none had had the effect on her of this man. There was an edge to him that both attracted and frightened her at the same time. Like the wicked blade of his scimitar, glinting and deadly. Prince Munir could be ruthless when necessary, she knew—the brigands who had embroiled her father in their crime had been summarily executed. He glowered at her, his sensual mouth at odds with his forbidding frown.

She took a deep breath. Years of playing the diplomatic hostess came to her aid. "Your highness, there is a perfectly rational explanation. I am Silvia Bruntsfield, Sir Francis's daughter. Unfortunately, my father was taken ill today. Knowing how very gracious it was of you to agree to the meeting, he sent me in his stead."

"It is discourteous to send a mere woman on such an important mission!"

He spoke the English words softly, his accent smooth as silk, though there could be no mistaking the menace in his tone. But it was his words that made Silvia bristle. "I have no doubt that my father would believe it more discourteous still to have failed to keep this appointment."

"He does not know you are here?"

She met the prince's gaze defiantly. "He was too ill to be consulted, but he would expect it of me. I am no mere woman. I have acted as his emissary on numerous occasions. I came to plead his cause, since he cannot do so himself. And to return this."

Pushing back her cloak, Silvia unclasped the little leather pouch fastened to the belt of her tunic and handed it to the prince. "I swear he did not know its significance. In all the years he has served his country, Papa has never taken plunder, and certainly nothing so valuable. He thought it was a trinket."

Munir opened the pouch and extracted the idol. Looking at the huge yellow stone set into its middle, he had to acknowledge that an untrained eye could easily mistake the diamond for glass. "The fact remains that your father effectively stole a priceless artefact. The men who sold it to him in the ruined city of Djaradh-Laskit were brigands, thieves. Your father should have known better than to take any artefact from such a sacred place. There are still many people here in my kingdom who believe in the old ways, that the city is the home of the ancient gods. Were his actions made public, I could not guarantee his safety."

"It was wrong of him, and foolish, but…"

"Extremely foolish! As a consequence of his actions, I intend to cancel the treaty that would have granted your English government exclusive rights to use our port. I cannot be seen to do business with foreigners who violate our traditions."

"I know," Silvia said quietly. "That is why I am here. I intend to make you change your mind."