Arabian Nights - The city time had forgot - completed

Chapter Five

Moaning, she sunk under the water and came up, pushing hair back from her face. She had to stop thinking about him. She loved being in his company, and when apart, all she seemed to think about was when she would see him again.

Wrapped in a towel, she stopped at the ottoman, where her clothes had been, now gone, giving her heart a little start, looking around. She hadn't heard a soul enter, then again, she had been lowered into the water, looking across at the bath that was high, hopefully hiding her. This keeps up, and she'd give up bathing.

Holding the towel close to her chest, she edged out, into the walk in wardrobe, searching for hidden staff members. Relieved, she darted across and retrieved new underwear, lacy without satin, black matching set, the bra uplifting so she fitted those kaftans better. Going to the wardrobes she flickered through her new clothes.

She loved the old worldly clothes, even though she couldn't find what she wanted to wear, and wandered out towards the bedroom, clearing her head, and stopped dead at the sight of perfect kaftan spread across her bed in waiting glory. It was exactly what she wanted to wear and dashed across, touching it with care. It was so beautifully made, hand embroidered through the deep purple material, sleeveless and had a buttoned up bodice, so soft and silky, the under skirt transparent that the overlay kept her decent.

Going back into the bathroom, she raided the cupboards to find everything she needed, all new, waiting to be used. Removing a big rounded hair brush that was soft, she brushed her hair, wishing she had a hair dryer, wandering out to the main room, and went exploring that she hadn't really done before, discovering shuttered doors that she opened and stepped out onto the balcony, shutting the doors behind her to keep the cold air in. The still warm air was prefect for drying her hair, she brushed, ruffled, brushed, ruffled, flung her hair forward then back to fall around her in soft waves around her face and down her back, full and wavy.

Pleased, she opened the doors and stepped back in to find Imad waiting for her. His most important man. Really Hassan, having him come to collect her, as if she was very important, or he wanted her to feel that way.

"This way Mistress," he bowed, showing her the way out. She refrained from saying she knew the way already.

"Thank you for collecting me, Imad," she said instead.

"A great honour."

"Hmm," she walked out, followed by Imad. "So that beautiful black horse, what was its name?" She asked innocently.

"His highness horse? Kismet."

"Really, had a change of name, did it?" She eyed him off. Not even a flicker of movement in his expression as he led the way through the palace, all looking very familiar. She was heading towards his private rooms. Imad opened the doors that she stepped through then stopped, looking Imad in the eye. "You really must tell me his real name, just in case, I want to share an apple or something." She should have known it would've not been that easy.

"I think Kismet is such a better name than Blackie, don't you?"

Startled, she spun around and nearly nosed smacked Hassan's chest. "Thank you Imad, you are no longer needed. I would see to Miss Elena myself and see her safely back to her rooms," he dismissed his man and opened his arm in invitation for Elena.

"Blackie, my foot," she grumbled under her breath.

"I see my mellowed beloved Elena went down with the bathwater." Suddenly she stopped, spun around and nosed slammed his chest this time, tilting her chin up.

"I hope it wasn't you pinching my clothes, while I was bathing."

"Do I look like a man that would wear women's clothes?" She couldn't resist and pulled on his robe. "I see you are in a funny mood," he noted, crossing his arms. "No, I did not pilfer your clothes. I guess the girl collected your old clothes to be washed, after placing your dress on the bed."