The Sheikh's Bride

by Sophie Weston

‘Whoops,’ he said under his breath.

  He had only seen Leo once before and she had changed beyond belief. But he knew the signs. This was not a woman in the mood for romantic abduction. This was a woman who was in a mood to kill.

  He went to warn Amer.

  Leo accepted a glass of champagne from one of the Foundation’s officials and allowed herself to be guided through a rather dull display of the Foundation’s recent achievements. They all looked taken aback at this dramatic new Leo. Even Professor Lane stumbled in his monologue and one or two of the students looked as nervous as they were admiring.

  Good, she thought savagely. She downed her first glass and took another one.

  She circulated grimly, skirting an early sewing machine, and pointing out crisply to Antika’s Project Director that his business plan needed to be completely rewritten. He was sweating faintly by the time she turned away to inspect a large steam train.

  ‘Whew,’ said the Project Director, wiping his brow.

  He went to look for reinforcements.

  Leo hid a smile. At least that was one man who would take her seriously from now on. Feeling better and better, she took a third glass of champagne from a passing waiter. And then, from behind the huge engine, came a voice she thought she recognised.

  ‘Tell her,’ it said urgently. ‘Tell her now.’

  Leo’s brow creased. Someone from work? No. Yet someone she had talked to today. A business contact? No. Then, suddenly, she had it—the unfriendly journalist. That was who it was. What was her name?

  A man’s voice muttered a reply. Indistinguishable.

  ‘You can’t do it,’ said the journalist. She sounded on the edge of hysteria. ‘It’s crazy. Your whole life.’

  ‘Anne Marie, don’t. Not here. Please.’

  Anne Marie Dance. Of course. And the man sounded desperate. Leo was about to back away tactfully when she heard the thing that stopped her dead in her tracks.

  ‘Simon, you can’t do this.’

  Simon?

  Simon?

  She put her untasted glass down on the priceless exhibit and walked quite deliberately round the steam engine. Simon Hartley was standing there, holding Anne Marie Dance at arm’s length. Leo stopped dead, all her bright triumph draining out of her. At arm’s length, yes. But what intimacy there was in their closeness. They had obviously been closer than this many many times.

  Anne Marie saw her over Simon’s shoulder. Her face changed. Simon turned round. When he saw Leo he looked blank, then horribly sick.

  ‘Oh God,’ he said.

  Anne Marie Dance, on the other hand, seemed almost relieved. Quite suddenly Leo realised why there had been that inexplicable hostility in the interview this afternoon.

  ‘So now you know,’ she said.

  She put a possessive hand on Simon’s arm. After a moment his hand covered hers protectively. As if he had made that gesture a hundred times before.

  Leo felt as if a knife had gone into her heart, straight and true. Not because she wanted Simon, but because no one was ever going to touch her with that instinctive protectiveness. She blinked hard.

  ‘Leo, I’m so sorry,’ he said wretchedly.

  ‘I’m not,’ said Anne Marie in a quick panting voice. ‘It’s time someone showed your father there are things he can’t buy. Like a son-in-law.’

  Simon dropped her hand as if it burned him.

  ‘Stop it, Anne Marie,’ he said, suddenly taking charge. ‘Leo, we can’t talk here.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Anne Marie loudly. She shouldered her way round him and stuck her face close to Leo’s. ‘Your father told Simon to propose to you. He said you wanted to marry and couldn’t get a man of your own.’

  Leo felt as if she were in a nightmare. All the lovely defiance had evaporated. She felt cold and alone. Anne Marie’s hostility hurt. But at least it was better than the pity that had followed it last time.

  She said in a voice like crashing icebergs, ‘He was wrong.’

  She tugged at the newly acquired rose diamond with clumsy fingers. Even though she had put it on so recently it was difficult to prize off.

  ‘Not here,’ implored Simon, looking round anxiously.

  But they were out of sight of most other people in the gallery. Leo set her teeth and hauled. Her finger turned white, then red. But in the end the thing came off. She dropped it into his top pocket.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll tell Gordon I changed my mind,’ she told him, still in that frighteningly icy voice.

  She knew she should be devastated by Simon’s betrayal. No doubt she would be when she had time to think about it. But for the moment she still felt blessedly numb. The worst thing was the humiliation. And if she kept a hold on herself and got out fast, she could even handle that, Leo told herself.

  ‘He won’t sack you if he thinks it’s my fault.’

  Simon flinched. That was faintly satisfying. She gathered herself to leave them.

  ‘I’ll send a cancellation notice to the papers tomorrow.’

  Simon flushed. Leo thought—how could I have imagined it would work? How could I have trusted him? He’s as bad as Amer el-Barbary.

  She said with absolute finality, ‘Goodbye.’

  Out of the shelter of the great locomotive, Leo felt suddenly exposed. She went through the galleries as fast as she could without actually appearing to be running. All she wanted to do now was get home.

  She was so nearly out of the door when she heard her name called that she could have screamed.

  ‘Leonora!’

  She whirled round. Sheikh Amer el-Barbary strolled forward. A scream, she decided, did not begin to cover what she felt.

  ‘Hello to the end of a perfect day,’ she said.

  He was heart-stoppingly handsome, with his golden tan that she remembered—and lazy eyes which she had tried so hard to forget. Tonight they looked almost silver. In the flesh he was incredibly sexy. How had she managed to get by last week without reacting to it? She looked at him with acute dislike.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Amer’s eyebrows flew up at her abrupt tone.

  ‘How many of those have you had?’ he asked, nodding at the champagne.

  Leo ignored the question. ‘I have not come here to talk to you. Go away.’

  She waved her glass to emphasis her point. Some of the wine spilled over his immaculate grey suit. She ignored that, too.

  ‘I see,’ he said gravely.

  He took her by the arm and steered her to a corner of the room. Hari hovered. Amer waved him away. He went.

  Leo’s dislike of Sheikh Amer el-Barbary intensified. She did not attempt to disguise it.

  ‘And you needn’t think you can order me around, either,’ she said pugnaciously. ‘That little man may be paid to hit the ceiling when you say jump. I’m not.’

  ‘Quite right,’ said Amer hugely entertained. ‘But I really do have something to discuss with you. Business,’ he added, as her eyes flashed.

  ‘What business?’ demanded Leo, suspicious.

  ‘Antika’s research. I gather you don’t like the application.’

  Leo pulled herself together and told him succinctly exactly what was wrong with the application. Amer blinked.

  ‘No wonder you frightened the poor guy to death,’ he murmured. ‘Now, how can I resolve your criticisms?’

  ‘What has it got to do with you?’ Leo said, bristling.

  ‘We are co-funding it.’ He was smoothness itself. ‘Professor Lane has asked me to see what I can do.’

  His voice was like a caress. The faint accent and overprecise English added to the illusion. Many women, thought Leo wisely, would have melted into a warm puddle at his feet when he stroked them with that voice. On the Nile, she had nearly done exactly that herself.

  She glared. Amer gave her a wide smile that showed perfect teeth and an indentation in one cheek that many women would have found irresistible. Leo thanked God she was not many women. She took a gulp of champagne.


  ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said.

  He was amused. ‘How do I convince you?’

  Leo eyed him over the top of her champagne glass. She was shaking with temper and more than temper. Suddenly a crazy stratagem presented itself. It would make him mad but it was irresistible. Anyway, Leo wasn’t going to resist, not in the mood she was in tonight.

  She gave him a wide smile and said with profoundly phoney calm, ‘Okay. You believe in Antika’s research. I don’t. So carry on. Pitch.’

  He was taken aback. Leo saw it. She savoured it. It did not make up for the humiliations of the day, of course. but it helped. It helped.

  The caressing note faltered. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Pitch,’ she said. She clicked her fingers impatiently. ‘Give me your line.’

  It was insulting. Amer stiffened. She eyed him with mockery.

  ‘You have got a line, haven’t you?’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  Leo interrupted. ‘No line? Fine.’ She turned away. ‘I’ll be going. If you’ll call my car—’

  Amer stepped swiftly in front of her.

  ‘I’ll think of a line,’ he said rapidly. ‘Just give me a second.’

  A hint of a caress now, Leo thought with satisfaction. Quite suddenly the Sheikh seemed to have dropped out of seduction mode and was prepared to do business. She began to feel triumphant at last.

  Vaingloriously she drained her glass. Amer eyed the empty flute uneasily.

  ‘How many have you had?’

  ‘Enough,’ said Leo.

  He laughed suddenly. ‘You’re not at all what I thought you were in Cairo, you know.’

  Leo blinked. ‘What?’

  He made a graceful gesture. He had beautiful hands, she saw. Like a musician. Or a dancer. Or—the thought flipped into her brain like an acrobat—a snake charmer.

  ‘What?’ she said again, challenging him.

  ‘Jack Lane got you wrong, too. He said you were a nice, quiet lady.’ He sounded rueful. ‘Not a fire eater in traffic light silks.’

  Leo hugged the maligned shawl round her. ‘You want to do business, I’ll do business,’ she said stubbornly.

  ‘Excellent. Then maybe we could have dinner,’ he said, smooth as cream. ‘Then I can take you through the proposal.’

  ‘I’ve been through the proposal,’ said Leo, standing her ground. ‘It’s tosh.’

  He did not like that. His eyes lost some of their laziness. After a moment he said kindly, ‘It’s probably a little difficult for a nonspecialist to follow. I would be happy to talk you through—I’m sorry?’

  ‘I said, garbage,’ explained Leo.

  His eyes flashed. ‘It is a visionary project—’

  ‘So it may be,’ said Leo, interrupting. ‘It’s a damned sloppy presentation.’ She took a step towards him and prodded him in the chest with one finger to emphasise her point. ‘I may not be a scientist with half a dozen degrees but I know how to read a business plan. That one stinks.’

  Amer looked down at her as if he could not believe his ears. Well, he probably could not. She was vaguely aware that he would not be used to women prodding him in the chest. At least not in anger.

  I am probably the only person in the world who sees him for what he is, Leo thought, somewhat muzzily. A snake charmer who thinks he can get anything he wants by mesmerising people. She prodded him in the chest again.

  ‘Facts,’ she said. ‘You want me to give these guys a sponsorship deal? Give me facts.’

  Amer sighed. ‘If they had any facts, the research would be over and they wouldn’t need a grant.’

  Leo frowned, thinking about it. To her annoyance, it sounded reasonable. Even spitting mad, she was fair minded enough to admit it.

  ‘Okay. Hypotherase—’ It got lost somehow. Leo tried again. ‘Hypathetho—’

  ‘Hypothesise,’ he suggested helpfully.

  Leo nodded. She raised her hand. Quick as an arrow, Amer caught her prodding finger before she could spear him for the third time. He was laughing, not lazily at all.

  ‘No, please, not again. I will tell them to do as you suggest.’

  ‘Good,’ said Leo.

  She found he was still holding her hand. She looked down at it, frowning in bewilderment.

  ‘So now can we talk about us please?’ he murmured.

  He turned her hand over, studying it. That damned ink stain was still there. Leo swore and tugged her hand away. Without success.

  ‘What do you mean—us?’ she said nastily.

  A long finger traced the ink stain thoughtfully.

  ‘There is still that unfinished business.’

  He looked up, provocatively. The dark eyes were teasing. But they were also surprisingly intense. Leo blinked.

  ‘Isn’t there?’ he said softly.

  And then he raised her hand to his mouth. He did not kiss it but held it where he could savour the feel and scent of her skin. He closed his eyes in appreciation.

  As if, thought Leo wrathfully, her hand was a good cigar. She wrenched it out of his hold. He laughed, as if she had delighted him.

  There was a nasty pause while Leo reminded herself that she was being played by a master. She controlled herself. It was an effort. Not helped by the fact that Amer was waiting for her next move with patent amusement.

  At last she drew a long, shaky breath.

  ‘Probably for the best,’ said that hatefully appreciative voice.

  Leo glared. ‘What is?’

  ‘Postponing our fight. You can’t get up a really good head of steam when you’re liable to be interrupted at any moment.’

  ‘Our—’ She choked. ‘I do not,’ she said with precision, ‘fight.’

  ‘Yes that’s what I heard.’ He sounded puzzled.

  ‘And you’re the last person in the world I would fight with if I did,’ she raged.

  That seemed to puzzle him even more.

  ‘I’m sure you underrate yourself,’ he said kindly.

  For a wild moment Leo thought she was going to hit him. No, she thought. I won’t. If I lose control, who knows where it will end?

  She gathered her shawl around her and drew herself up to her full height.

  ‘Good night.’

  Amer interposed his shoulder, blocking her path. He smiled down at her.

  ‘Why don’t I take you out to dinner?’

  Leo folded her lips together tightly before she could scream or burst into tears. She whipped round him, making for the front steps. To her consternation he followed.

  ‘Surely we can negotiate.’

  Leo increased her pace.

  ‘I never negotiate.’

  Even that did not put him off. ‘But I do,’ he said softly.

  They were at the entrance. Leo stopped dead. She turned, head high.

  ‘Okay,’ she said in a goaded under voice. ‘You want a deal? I’ll give you a deal.’

  She knew what she was going to say before it came out. It was crazy. Her better self did not want to have anything to do with this dark coda to the nightmare of the evening. But her better self was on hold, waiting for a cup of cocoa and a good cry in front of a blazing fire.

  Her worse self was tired of being pushed around. Her worse self looked at his man and heard him admit that he pursued her cynically, knowing that marriage was not on the cards. Her worse self wanted revenge on the whole male sex.

  Leo heard her worse self say in a hard voice, ‘Marry me and I’ll authorise that damned grant.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THERE was a terrible silence.

  Why on earth did I say that? I must be mad.

  Then Amer threw back his head and laughed aloud. Leo could not believe it. She was still reeling with shock at her own words. And he laughed. At that moment she hated him.

  But, even so, she needed to withdraw her stupid remark. And fast.

  She said with stiff apology, ‘That was uncalled for. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…’

  Amer ignored that. He sai
d softly, ‘Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.’

  ‘W-wish for?’ Leo was outraged. ‘Are you implying I wish to marry you?’

  Amer looked soulful. ‘What else is a man to think when a lady pays him the compliment of asking him to marry her?’

  Leo choked. ‘I did not ask you to marry me.’

  ‘That’s what it sounded like to me,’ Amer said imperturbably.

  Leo stopped feeling even the slightest bit apologetic. She glared.

  ‘I said I’d cut you a deal. That’s different.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d be interested to hear how you work that out. Let us have dinner and discuss it.’

  ‘No,’ said Leo sharply. ‘Thank you,’ she added with patent lack of gratitude.

  Amer smiled. ‘I never sign up to a deal until I have explored the implications.’

  She shrugged. ‘Fine. So no deal. I can live with that.’ She turned away.

  He caught her by the arm. Well no, that was not exactly true. He hardly touched her. But Leo stopped dead as if she had walked into an invisible electric fence.

  ‘And I never turn one down before I’ve done just that.’

  Leo looked over her shoulder at him. Her heart was thundering so hard it was all she could do not to press her hand against her shaken rib cage. What was worse, she was almost certain he knew it. She clenched her hand into a tight, tight fist and kept it at her side.

  Amer’s remarkable eyes crinkled at the corners as he met hers. The sensuous mouth remained in a prim line but Leo was not deceived. It was an amused, secretive look and it made her blood run cold.

  He is laughing at me, she thought.

  She said, as haughtily as she knew how, ‘My car?’

  ‘Of course.’ It was as smooth as cream.

  Not taking his hand from her arm he escorted her out into the evening. It had been a hot day and the air was full of the stale heat of combustion engines and too many people. Leo shuddered.

  ‘Sticky,’ he agreed with her unspoken distaste. ‘You will be glad of a cool drink.’

  He must have made some sign, though Leo had not detected it. A long dark car drew up silently in front of them. Amer opened the passenger door.

  Leo was not getting caught like that again.

  ‘That’s not my car.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Amer was shocked. ‘When I take a lady out to dinner, I pick her up and see her home.’