The Sheikh's Bride

by Sophie Weston

  ‘I’ve thought of that, too.’ Amer was as complacent as a cat. ‘Now here’s what I want you to do—’

  Back at the hotel Leo found her father had tried to return her call twice. He had left a series of numbers where he could be contacted. Immediately, according to the message. So he was serious about it.

  Leo tapped the message against her teeth. She did not look forward to it. But years of dealing with her father had taught her that it was better to face up to his displeasure sooner rather than later. She squared her shoulders and dialled.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Gordon Groom said, cutting through her enquiries after his health and well-being.

  Leo sighed and told him.

  She kept it short. Her father liked his reports succinct. He had been known to fire an executive for going on longer than Gordon wanted.

  When she finished, slightly to her surprise, his first thought was for Mrs Silverstein. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Sleeping, I think.’

  ‘Check on her,’ Gordon ordered. ‘And again before you go to bed.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Leo, touched.

  ‘There’s a real up side opportunity here. The retired American market has a lot of growth potential for us,’ Gordon went on, oblivious.

  That was more like the father Leo knew. She suppressed a grin. ‘I’ll check.’

  ‘And what about Ormerod? Has he lost it?’

  Leo shifted uncomfortably. She had been very firm with her father that she was not going to Cairo to spy on the existing management.

  ‘Some of the local customer care is a bit archaic,’ she said carefully.

  ‘Sounds like they need an operational audit.’ Gordon dismissed the Cairo office from his mind and turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Now what about you? Not much point in making Ormerod take you back, is there?’

  Leo shuddered. ‘No.’

  Her father took one of his lightning executive decisions. ‘Then you’d better come back to London. Our sponsorship program needs an overhaul. You can do that until—’ He stopped. ‘You can take charge of that.’

  Leo was intrigued. But she knew her father too well to press him. The last thing he was going to do was tell her the job he had in mind for her until he had made sure that she was up to it.

  ‘Okay. I’ll clear up things here and come home.’

  Other fathers, Leo thought, would have been glad. Other fathers would have said, ‘It’ll be great to have you home, darling.’ Or even, ‘Let me know the flight, I’ll come to the airport and meet you.’

  Gordon just said, ‘You’ve still got your keys?’

  They shared a large house in Wimbledon. But Leo had her own self-contained flat. She and her father did not interfere with each other.

  ‘I’ve still got my keys,’ she agreed.

  ‘See you when you get back.’ Clearly about to ring off, a thought struck Gordon. ‘You haven’t heard from your mother, by the way?’

  ‘As a matter of fact she’s here. I’m having dinner with her tonight.’

  Gordon did not bad mouth Deborah the way she did him but you could tell that he was not enthusiastic about the news, Leo thought.

  ‘Oh? Well, don’t let her fill your head with any of her silly ideas,’ he advised. ‘See you.’

  He rang off.

  Leo told herself she was not hurt. He was a good and conscientious father. But he had no truck with sentimentality; especially not if it showed signs of interfering with business.

  It was silly to think that she would have liked him to be a bit more indignant on her behalf, Leo thought. When Deborah had ranted about Roy Ormerod, Leo had calmed her down. Yet when her father didn’t, she felt unloved.

  ‘The trouble with me is, I don’t know what I want,’ Leo told herself. ‘Forget it.’

  But she could not help remembering how the dark-eyed stranger had stood up to Ormerod for her. It had made her feel—what? Protected? Cared for? She grimaced at the thought.

  ‘No regression to frills,’ she warned herself. ‘You’re a Groom executive. You can’t afford to turn to mush.’

  Anyway she would not see the mysterious stranger again. Just as well if he had this sort of effect on her usual robust independence.

  She made a dinner reservation for herself and her mother. Then she stripped off the day’s dusty clothes and ran a bath. The hotel provided everything you needed, she saw wryly, even a toothbrush and a luxurious monogrammed bathrobe.

  She sank into scented foam and let her mind go into free fall. When the phone rang on the bathroom wall, she ignored it, lifting a long foot to turn on the tap and top up the warm water. For the first time in months, it seemed, she did not have to worry about a tour or a function or timetable inconsistencies. She tipped her head back and gave herself up to the pleasures of irresponsibility.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Mother come to make sure I’ve plucked my eyebrows, diagnosed Leo. She won’t go away. Oh well, time to get going, I suppose.

  She raised the plug and got out of the bath. She knotted the bathrobe round her and opened the door, trying to assume a welcoming expression. When she saw who it was, she stopped trying in pure astonishment.

  ‘You! What do you want?’

  ‘Very welcoming,’ said the mysterious stranger, amused. ‘How about a date?’

  ‘A date?’

  ‘Dinner,’ he explained fluently. ‘Music, dancing, cultural conversation. Whatever you feel like.’

  Leo shook her head to clear it.

  ‘But—a date? With me?’

  A faint hint of annoyance crossed the handsome face. ‘Why not?’

  Because men don’t ask me on dates. Not out of the blue. Not without an introduction and several low-key meetings at the houses of mutual friends. Not without knowing who my father is.

  Leo crushed the unworthy thought.

  ‘When?’ she said, playing for time while she got her head round this new experience.

  ‘Tonight or never,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Oh well, that settles it.’ Leo was not sure whether she was disappointed or relieved. But at least the decision was taken for her. ‘I’m already going out to dinner tonight.’

  She made to close the door. It did not work.

  He did not exactly put his foot in the door, but he leaned against the doorjamb as if he was prepared to stay there all night.

  ‘Cancel.’ His tone said it was a suggestion rather than an order. His eyes said it was a challenge.

  Leo found herself reknotting the sash of her borrowed robe in an agitated manner and saying, ‘No,’ in a voice like the primmest teacher she had ever had at her polite girls’ school.

  He bit back a smile. ‘I dare you.’

  She looked at him with dislike. ‘I suppose you think that makes it irresistible?’

  ‘Well, interesting, anyway.’

  If Leo was honest, his smile was more than intriguing. She felt her heart give an odd little jump, as if it had been pushed out of a nice, safe burrow and wanted to climb back in again. She knew that feeling. She hated taking chances and always had.

  She looked at the man and thought: I don’t know where going out with this man would take me. Thank God I’m spending the evening with Mother.

  And then, as if some particularly mischievous gods were listening, along the corridor came Deborah Groom. Leo groaned.

  ‘Is that a yes, no or maybe?’ said Amer, entertained.

  ‘None of the above. Hello, Mother.’

  He turned quickly. Deborah did not hesitate. Assuming that the man at Leo’s door was Roy Ormerod, she stormed straight into battle.

  ‘How dare you come here and harass my daughter? Haven’t you done enough? I shall make sure your employer knows all about this.’

  Amer blinked. A look of unholy appreciation came into his eyes.

  ‘I didn’t mean to harass her,’ he said meekly.

  Leo writhed inwardly. ‘Mother, please. This is Mr—’ thankfully she remembered
his name just in time ‘—Mr Amer. He was the one who persuaded the hotel to find me a room.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Deborah took a moment to assimilate the information. Then another to assess Amer. The quality of his tailoring was not lost on her, any more than it had been on her daughter.

  ‘Oh,’ she said again in quite a different voice. She held out a gracious hand. ‘How kind of you, Mr Amer. I’m Deborah, er, Roberts, Leo’s mother.’

  ‘Leo?’ he murmured, bowing over her hand.

  ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? Especially with a pretty name like Leonora. After my grandmother, you know. But her father always called her Leo. And it just stuck.’

  ‘Mother,’ protested Leo.

  Neither of them paid any attention to her.

  ‘Leonora,’ he said as if he were savouring it.

  Deborah beamed at him. ‘And how kind of you to check on Leo.’

  He was rueful. ‘I was hoping to persuade her to have dinner with me. But she is already engaged.’ He sighed but the dark grey eyes were sharp.

  Deborah put her pretty head on one side.

  ‘Well, now, isn’t that odd? I was just coming to tell Leo that I really didn’t feel like going out this evening.’ She allowed her shoulders to droop theatrically. ‘This heat is so tiring.’

  Leo could not believe this treachery.

  ‘What heat, Mother? Every single place you’ve been today is air conditioned within an inch of its life.’

  Deborah looked annoyed. Amer’s lips twitched. But, strategist that he was, he did not say anything.

  Deborah recovered fast. ‘Well, that’s exactly the problem.’ She turned to Amer appealingly. ‘We English aren’t used to real air-conditioning. I think I must have caught a chill.’ She managed a ladylike cough.

  Leo felt murderous. She was almost sure the beastly man was laughing at both of them.

  ‘Then you’d better stay in your room,’ she said firmly. ‘We’ll order room service.’

  Deborah gave her a faint, brave smile. ‘Oh no, darling. I’ll be better on my own. You go and enjoy yourself with Mr Amer.’

  Amer took charge before Leo could scream with fury or announce that the last thing in the world she would enjoy was an evening with him.

  ‘If you are sure, Mrs Roberts?’ he said smoothly, as if that was all it took to decide the matter. He nodded to Leo, careful not to let his satisfaction show. ‘Then I shall look forward to our excursion, Miss Roberts. Shall we say, half an hour?’

  He walked off down the corridor before Leo could respond.

  ‘Mother,’ she said between her teeth.

  Deborah was unrepentant. ‘Just what you need,’ she said briskly, ceasing to droop. ‘An evening with a seriously sexy article like that. Should have happened years ago. Now what are you going to wear?’

  Leo knew when she was beaten. She stood aside to let her mother come in.

  ‘There’s not a lot of choice,’ she said drily. ‘My work suit. Or the sun flower job you’ve just talked me into.’

  Deborah flung open the wardrobe door and considered the ensemble with a professional eye. ‘That will do. It’s versatile enough. How smart do you think it will be?’

  Leo sighed in exasperation. ‘I haven’t the slightest idea. I only met the man once before you thrust me into this evening’s fiasco.’

  If she thought that the information would make Deborah apologise, she mistook her mother. Deborah was intrigued.

  ‘Determined, isn’t he? Very flattering.’

  ‘Oh please,’ said Leo in disgust.

  Deborah ignored that. ‘We should have bought you some shoes,’ she said in a dissatisfied voice.

  Leo picked up her low-heeled black pumps and held them to her protectively. ‘They’re comfortable.’

  Deborah sighed. ‘Oh well, they’ll have to do. At least, there’s stuff in the bathroom to polish them up a bit. Now what about make-up?’

  Leo gave up. In her element, Deborah took charge. She shook her head over the ragged ends of Leo’s newly washed hair and took her nails scissors to it. After that, she gave her a brief but professional make-up which emphasised Leo’s long silky lashes and made her eyes look enormous. She ended by pressing onto her a magnificent pair of topaz drop earrings.

  ‘I’m not used to all this,’ protested Leo, surrendering her neat pearl studs with misgiving. ‘I’m going to make a terrible fool of myself.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ said Deborah.

  But she did not pretend to misunderstand Leo’s doubts.

  ‘Darling, you’re so capable. You can handle anything, not like me. How have you got this hang up about men?’

  ‘It’s not a hang up,’ said Leo drily. ‘It’s the sure and certain knowledge that any man who goes out with me has been turned down by everyone else in the netball team. Unless he thinks he’s dating my father.’

  Deborah shook her head. ‘I don’t understand you.’

  ‘I do,’ muttered Leo.

  ‘So explain it to me.’

  ‘Big feet and too much bosom,’ said Leo baldly. ‘Plus a tendency to break things.’

  Deborah was shocked. ‘Leo! You have a wonderful figure. Think of all those girls out there having to buy padded bras. Men just love curves like yours.’

  ‘Oh sure. A demolition expert with feet like flippers is pretty irresistible, too.’

  Deborah sighed but she was a realist. ‘Look, darling, men can be very unkind but they’re not difficult to deal with if you know how. Tonight, just listen to the man as if he’s an oracle. And try not to bump into the furniture.’

  Leo’s laugh was hollow.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THERE was no furniture to bump into.

  First, Amer arrived in designer jeans and a loose jacket that was the last word in careless chic and made Leo feel seriously overdressed. Then, he announced that they were going out of Cairo. To Leo’s increasing trepidation, this involved a short trip in a private helicopter.

  ‘Where are we?’ she said, when the helicopter set down and its ailerons stopped turning.

  The airstrip was abnormally deserted. In her experience Egyptian airports heaved like anthills.

  But her horribly hip companion just smiled.

  The briefest ride in an open Jeep took them to a dark landing stage. The stars, like a watchmaker’s store of diamond chips, blinked at the water. Silent as a snake, the river gleamed back. There was a warm breeze off the water, like the breath of a huge, sleepy animal.

  Leo was not cold; but she shivered.

  ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Seventy miles up river from Cairo,’ Amer told her coolly.

  ‘Seventy—’ Leo broke off, in shock. ‘Why?’

  ‘I wanted to give you a picnic by moonlight,’ Amer said in soulful tones. He added, more practically, ‘You can’t do proper moonlight in the middle of a city.’

  Leo looked at him in the deepest suspicion. Standing as they were in the headlights of the Jeep it was difficult to tell but she was almost certain he was laughing at her.

  The dark harem pants wafted in the breeze. Her gold jacket felt garish under the stars and ridiculously out of place. She felt as clumsily conspicuous as she used to do at agonizing teenage parties.

  ‘Why would you want to take me on a moonlit picnic?’ she muttered resentfully. ‘You know I thought I was signing up for dinner in a restaurant. Look at me.’

  Amer was supervising the removal of a large picnic basket from the jeep. He turned his head at that. He looked her up and down. In the jeep’s headlights, Leo somehow felt as if she were on display. She huddled the jacket round her in pure instinct.

  ‘Do you want to go back?’ he asked.

  It should have been a courteous enquiry. It was not. It was a challenge. On the point of demanding just that, Leo stopped, disconcerted.

  After a day of shocks, was this one so terrible, after all? At least it promised a new experience. Who knows, she might actually enjoy it. And she did not have to bo
ther about an early night, for once. She did not have to get up in the small hours to meet an incoming flight. She would never have to again.

  ‘I suppose, now we’re here…’ she said at last.

  Amer raised his eyebrows. It was hardly enthusiastic.

  ‘Shall we call it an experiment then? For both of us.’ He sounded rueful.

  The driver took the picnic basket down the slope to a wooden jetty. Amer held out a hand to help Leo. The bank was steep. He went first.

  She took his hand and scrambled down the dusty path unsteadily. His arm felt like rock, as she swayed and stumbled. It also felt electric, as if just by holding on to him, Leo plugged herself in to some powerhouse of energy. She held her breath and did her best to ignore the tingle that his touch sent through her.

  Amer seemed unaware of it. Leo did not know whether that was more of a relief or an irritant. How could the man have this effect on her and not know it? But if he did know it what would he do about it?

  ‘Blast,’ she said, exasperated.

  He looked back at her. ‘What was that?’

  Hurriedly she disguised it. ‘I turned my ankle over.’

  She began limping heavily. Amer came back a couple of steps and put a supporting arm round her, hoisting her with her own petard. It felt like fire.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Leo between her teeth.

  On the jetty Leo stopped dead.

  ‘It’s a dhow,’ she exclaimed, half delighted, half alarmed.

  The little boat did not look stable. She swayed gently against her mooring rope. There was an oil lamp on the prow; no other light but the stars.

  Leo edged forward gingerly. And mother warned me not to bump into the furniture, she thought. With my luck I could have the whole boat over.

  A sailor greeted them politely before taking the picnic basket on board. Amer turned and gave a few crisp instructions in Arabic to the driver.

  Leo peered at the dark interior of the boat. She thought she could see cushions. They seemed a long way down.

  The driver vaulted into the Jeep and gunned the engine. Amer turned back and took in Leo’s wariness.

  ‘Are you going to tell me you’re seasick?’ he said, amused.