The Sheikh's Bride

by Sophie Weston

  He took a hasty step forward. Leo thought in a flash of recognition: He is going to hit me. It was so crazy she did not even duck. Instead she froze, panicking.

  Fortunately their companion did not panic so easily. He stepped swiftly in front of her.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  It was quiet enough but it had the force of a blow.

  Leo winced. It stopped Roy dead in his tracks. For a moment he and her rescuer stood face-to-face, eyes locked. Roy was a big man and the red glare in his eyes was alarming. The other was tall and his shoulders were broad enough but, under the exquisite tailoring, he was slim and graceful. No match for a bull like Roy, you would have said. Yet there was no doubt who was the master in this encounter.

  There was a moment of tense silence. Roy breathed hard. Then, without another word, he turned and blundered off, sending a chair flying.

  Leo sagged against the wall. Her heart was racing. Now that it was over she was horrified at the ugly little scene.

  Out of sight, she heard the lift doors open…several people get out…voices. Her rescuer flicked a look down the corridor. The voices got louder, laughing. He slipped a hand under her arm.

  ‘Come with me.’

  And before the new arrivals caught sight of them, he had whisked her to the end of the corridor and through impressive double doors. Before she knew what was happening, Leo found herself sitting in a high-backed chair in what she recognised as the Presidential Suite. The man stood over her, silent. He looked half impatient; half—what? Leo felt her heart give a wholly unfamiliar lurch.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he said at last.

  Leo thought: I want him to put his arms round me. She could not believe it.

  ‘What?’ she said distractedly.

  He frowned. As if people usually paid closer attention when he spoke, Leo thought. Now she came to look at him closely she saw there was more to him than grace and good tailoring. The harsh face might be proud and distant but it was spectacularly handsome. And surely there was a look in those eyes that was not proud or distant at all?

  I must be hallucinating, Leo thought feverishly. This is not my scene at all. I don’t fancy chance-met strangers and they don’t fancy me. This is the second time today I’ve started to behave like someone I don’t know. Am I going mad?

  ‘I said, are you all right?’

  ‘Oh.’ She tried to pull herself together. ‘I—suppose so.’ She added almost to herself, ‘I just don’t know what to do.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘In what way?’ His distaste was obvious.

  If he dislikes this situation so much, why doesn’t he just leave me alone, Leo thought irritated.

  ‘He said I wasn’t to go back. But everything I have is at the flat…’

  Unexpectedly her voice faltered. To her horror, Leo felt tears start. She dashed them away angrily. But the little gesture gave her away more completely than if she had started to bawl aloud.

  The man’s face became masklike.

  ‘You live with this man?’

  But Leo’s brain was racing, proposing and discarding courses of action at the rate of ten a minute. She hardly noticed his question.

  ‘I’ll have to call London.’ She looked at her watch. ‘And then book a room somewhere. If I can get one in the height of the tourist season.’

  The man sighed. ‘Then it will be my pleasure to offer you my assistance,’ he said in a long-suffering tone. He picked up the phone.

  Leo’s brows twitched together. There was something oddly familiar about the formal phrase.

  ‘Have we met?’

  He was talking into the phone in quick, clicking Arabic. But at that he looked down at her.

  ‘We have not, Miss Roberts.’

  He had the strangest eyes. She had thought they would be brown in that dark face but they were not. They were a strange metallic colour, somewhere between cold steel and the depths of the sea; and dark, dark. Leo felt herself caught by their icy intensity; caught and drawn in, under, drowned…

  She pulled herself up short. Was the man a mesmerist?

  ‘You know my name,’ she pointed out breathlessly.

  He smiled then. For the first time. It made him devastating.

  ‘I can read.’

  She stared at him, uncomprehending. He reached out a hand and brushed her shoulder. Even through the poplin jacket of her suit, his touch was electric. Leo shot to her feet with a gasp.

  ‘What—?’

  ‘Your label,’ he said gently.

  He had removed the large lettered name tag that she had worn to the airport this morning. He dropped it into her hand, not touching her fingers.

  Leo’s face heated. She felt a fool. That was not like her, either. What is it about this man that makes me lose my rationality? And feel like I’ve never felt before?

  The phone rang. He picked it up, listened without expression and only the briefest word of acknowledgement before ringing off.

  ‘The hotel has a room for you. Pick the key up at the desk.’

  Leo was startled into protesting. ‘A room? Here? You’re joking. They’re booked solid for weeks. I know because I was trying to get a room for a late attender at the conference.’

  He shrugged, bored. ‘One must have become available in the meantime.’

  Leo did not believe that for a moment. Her eyes narrowed.

  But before she could demand an explanation, the door banged back on its hinges and two large men in tight suits appeared at it. One of them was carrying a revolver. Leo gaped.

  Her rescuer spun round and he said something succinct. The gun stopped pointing at her. The two men looked uncomfortable. Leo turned her attention from the new arrivals to her rescuer.

  ‘Who are you?’

  He hesitated infinitesimally. Then, ‘My name is Amer,’ he said smoothly.

  Leo’s suspicions increased. But before she could demand further information, one of the men spoke agitatedly. Her rescuer looked at his watch.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said to her. ‘Moustafa will take you down to the lobby and ensure that there are no problems.’

  He gave her a nod. It was sharp and final. He was already walking away before Leo pulled herself together enough to thank him. Which was just as well. Because she was not feeling grateful at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LEO was not really surprised when the room proved to be not only available but also quietly luxurious. When a discreetly noncommittal porter ushered her in she found there were gifts waiting on the brass coffee table: a bowl of fruit, a dish of Arabic sweetmeats and a huge basket of flowers.

  Leo blinked. ‘That’s—very beautiful.’

  The porter nodded without expression. He surrendered the plastic wafer that served as a key to her room and backed out. Neither he nor the hotel receptionist had expressed the slightest surprise about her lack of luggage.

  It was unnerving. Leo felt as if the unknown stranger had cast some sort of magic cloak over her. Oh, it was protective all right. But it made her feel as if he had somehow made her invisible as well.

  Still, at least it had got her a roof over her head tonight. Be grateful for small mercies, she told herself. He’s given you the opportunity to get your life back on track. She checked her watch and started making phone calls.

  Her mother was fourth on the list. She expected to have to leave a message but Deborah was there.

  ‘Sorry, Mother, you’re going to have to take a rain check for tonight,’ she said. ‘I’ve got problems. They’ll take a bit of time to sort out.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Deborah.

  Leo did.

  Her mother was indignant. She might not approve of her only daughter toiling as a menial courier but that did not mean that she thought anyone had the right to sack her. She urged various strategies on Leo, most of which would have ended with both Roy and Leo being deported. Used to her mother’s fiery temperament, Leo murmured soothing noises down the phone until her mother’s fury abated.

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nbsp; ‘Well,’ said Deborah pugnaciously, ‘Mr Ormerod is certainly not interrupting my dinner plans. You have to eat and I want your company. See you at eight o’ clock.’

  ‘But I haven’t got anything to wear,’ wailed Leo.

  ‘You’ve got a credit card.’ She could hear the glee in her mother’s voice. Deborah was always complaining about Leo’s lack of interest in clothes. ‘And you ought to know this town well enough to know where the class boutiques are. I’ll see you downstairs now.’

  Leo knew when she was beaten. She negotiated a fifteen-minute delay to allow her to make the rest of her calls. But that was as much of a concession as Deborah was willing to make.

  Deborah was waiting in the lobby.

  ‘I’ve got a car,’ she said briskly. ‘And I know where to go, too, so don’t try to fob me off with any old shopping mall.’

  She led the way purposefully. Leo grinned and followed.

  Installed in the back of the hired limousine, Leo tipped her head back and looked at her mother appreciatively. Deborah fluffed up the organza collar to her stunning navy-and-white designer dress. The discreet elegance of her earrings did not disguise the fact that they were platinum or that the navy stones which echoed her ensemble were rather fine sapphires.

  ‘You look very expensive,’ Leo said lazily.

  She did not mean it as a criticism. But Deborah flushed. She swung round on the seat to inspect her weary daughter.

  ‘And you look like a tramp,’ she retorted. ‘Do you dress like that to make a point?’

  Leo was unoffended. She had been taller than her exquisite mother when she was eleven. By the time she entered her teens she had resigned herself to towering over other girls. She had even started to stoop until an enlightened teacher had persuaded her to stand up straight, mitigating her height by simple, well-cut clothes. Deborah had never resigned herself to Leo’s chosen style.

  Now Leo said tolerantly, ‘I dress like this to stay cool and look reasonably professional during a long working day, Mother. Besides,’ she said as Deborah opened her mouth to remonstrate, ‘I like my clothes.’

  Deborah gave her shoulders a little annoyed shake.

  ‘Well, you won’t need to look professional tonight. So you can buy something pretty for once. It’s not as if you can’t afford it.’

  Leo flung up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

  The car delivered them to a small shop. The window was filled with a large urn holding six-foot grasses. Leo knew the famous international name. And the prices that went with it. Her heart sank.

  ‘It’s lucky I paid off my credit card bill just last week, isn’t it?’ she said.

  Deborah ignored this poor spirited remark. ‘We’re going to buy you something special,’ she said firmly, urging her reluctant daughter out of the car.

  ‘Here comes the frill patrol,’ groaned Leo.

  But she did her mother an injustice. Deborah clearly hankered after a cocktail suit in flowered brocade. But she gave in gracefully when Leo said, ‘It makes me look like a newly upholstered sofa.’ Instead they came away with georgette harem pants, the colour of bark, and a soft jacket in a golden apricot. Deborah gave her a long silk scarf in bronze and amber to go with it.

  ‘Thank you mother,’ said Leo, touched.

  Deborah blinked rapidly. ‘I wish you were wearing it to go out to dinner with someone more exciting than me.’

  For a shockingly irrational moment, Leo’s thoughts flew to her mystery rescuer. She felt her colour rise. Inwardly she cursed her revealing porcelain skin and the shadowy Amer with equal fury. To say nothing of her mother’s sharp eyes.

  ‘Ah,’ said Deborah. ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘There’s no one,’ said Leo curtly.

  She stamped out to the limousine. Deborah said a more graceful farewell to the sales staff before she followed.

  ‘Darling,’ she began as soon as the driver had closed the door on her, ‘I think we need to have a little talk.’

  Leo stared in disbelief. ‘I’m twenty-four, Mother. I know about the birds and the bees.’

  Deborah pursed her lips. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Not that anyone would think it from the way you go on.’

  ‘Mother—’ said Leo warningly.

  ‘It’s all right. I don’t want to know about your boy-friends. I want to talk about marriage.’

  Leo blinked. ‘You’re getting married again?’

  Deborah enjoyed the attentions of a number of escorts but she had never shown any sign of wanting to have her pretty Holland Park house invaded by a male in residence.

  Now Deborah clicked her tongue in irritation. ‘Of course not. I mean your marriage.’

  Leo was blank. ‘But I’m not getting married.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Deborah again. She started to play with an earring. ‘Then the rumours about you and Simon Hartley aren’t true?’

  Leo stared at her in genuine bewilderment. ‘Simon Hartley? Dad’s new Chief Accountant? I hardly know him.’

  Deborah twiddled the earring harder. ‘I thought he was the brother of a school friend of yours.’

  Leo made a surprised face. ‘Claire Hartley, yes. But he’s quite a bit older than us.’

  ‘So you’ve never met him?’

  Leo shrugged. ‘Dad brought him out here a couple of months ago. Some sort of familiarisation trip. All the Adventures in Time staff met him.’

  ‘And did you like him?’

  Leo gave a snort of exasperation. ‘Come off it, Mother. The strain is showing. Believe me, there’s no point in trying to make matches for me. I’m not like you. I honestly don’t think I’m cut out for marriage.’

  Slightly to her surprise, Deborah did not take issue with that. Instead she looked thoughtful. ‘Why not? Because you’ve got too much to do being Gordon Groom’s heir?’

  Leo tensed. Here it comes, she thought. This is where she starts to attack Pops.

  She said stiffly, ‘I chose to go into the company.’

  Deborah did not take issue with that, either. She said abruptly, ‘Leo, have you ever been in love?’

  Leo could not have been more taken aback if her mother had asked her if she had ever flown to the moon.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  The moment she said it, she could have kicked herself. Deborah would take her astonishment as an admission of failure with the opposite sex. Just what she had always warned her daughter would happen if she did not lighten up, in fact.

  ‘I thought not.’

  But Deborah did not sound triumphant. She sounded worried. And for what must have been the first time in her life she did not push the subject any further.

  It made Leo feel oddly uneasy. She was used to maternal lectures. She could deal with them. A silent, preoccupied Deborah was something new in her experience. She did not like it.

  Amer had given Hari a number of instructions which had caused his friend’s eyebrows to climb higher and higher. He took dutiful notes, however. But at the final instruction he put down his monogrammed pen and looked at Amer with burning reproach.

  ‘What am I going to tell your father?’

  ‘Don’t tell him anything,’ said Amer fluently. ‘You report back to my uncle the Minister of Health. My uncle will tell him that I made the speech I was sent here to make. Et voilà.’

  ‘But they will expect you to say something at the dinner.’

  Amer gave him a wry smile. ‘You say it. You wrote it, after all. You’ll be more convincing than I will.’

  Hari bit back an answering smile. ‘They’ll find out,’ he said gloomily. ‘What will they say?’

  ‘I don’t care what a bunch of dentists say,’ Amer told him with breezy arrogance.

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of the dentists,’ Hari said ironically, ‘I was thinking of your uncle the Health Minister, your uncle the Finance Minister, your uncle the Oil Minister…’

  Amer’s laugh had a harsh ring. ‘I don’t care what they think, either.’

  ‘But your father—’


  ‘If my father isn’t very careful,’ Amer said edgily, ‘I shall go back to university and turn myself into the archaeologist I was always meant to be.’

  Hari was alarmed. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have said that the women you know were programmed to think you are wonderful. You’ve taken it as a challenge, haven’t you?’

  Amer chuckled. ‘Let us say you outlined a hypothesis which I would be interested to test.’

  ‘But why Miss Roberts?’

  Amer hesitated for the briefest moment. Then he gave a small shrug. ‘Why not?’

  ‘You said she was like stale bread,’ Hari reminded him.

  Amer’s well-marked brows twitched together in a frown.

  ‘I hope you weren’t thinking of telling her that,’ he warned.

  ‘I’m not telling her anything,’ said Hari hastily. ‘I’m not going anywhere near her.’

  Amer frowned even more blackly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not the way to stop me seeing her.’

  ‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ said Hari. A thought occurred to him. He was beginning to enjoy himself. ‘If you want to play at being an ordinary guy, the first thing you’ll have to do is fix up a date in person like the rest of us.’

  There was a startled pause. Then Amer began to laugh softly.

  ‘But of course. I never intended anything else. That’s part of the fun.’

  ‘Fun!’

  ‘Of course. New experiments are always fun.’

  ‘So she’s a new experiment. Are you going to tell her that?’ Hari asked politely.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m going to tell her yet,’ Amer said with disarming frankness. ‘I suppose it partly depends on what she tells me.’ He looked intrigued at the thought.

  ‘The first thing she’ll tell you is your name, title and annual income,’ snapped Hari, goaded.

  But Amer was not to be shaken out of his good humour.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. If she hasn’t recognised me so far, she isn’t going to unless someone tells her. So you’d better make the arrangements in your name.’

  ‘Oh? And what about when you turn up instead of me? Even if you can convince the maître d’ to be discreet what about the other people at the restaurant?’