She shook her head. ‘I want you. Just for a few weeks?’
Such imploring eyes and Carmen could feel herself weaken. Then she thought of Zafar. Of her response to him. Of being under his ‘rule’. A disturbing thought.
But then so was Fadia without a champion if she needed one. ‘I don’t think I can. It’s a long way to go for something a lot of people could do. I’ll think about it but it’s unlikely. I’m sorry. I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you ask the night midwife if you need help.’
By the time she’d written up her notes and handed over to her colleague, it was seven-fifteen.
Carmen used the midwife’s bathroom to wash and pulled the new dress from the bag to check out the tag. Slashed price, non-iron and machine washable. She loved Donna.
Carmen shivered with the silky slide of fabric down her body and she hoped it wasn’t an omen. Maybe she should wear her uniform. What was she doing anyway, trying to impress a prince with her bargain-bin clothes?
She shook her head at herself. No. She was dressing for herself and it looked good. Maybe the maroon fabric did plunge a little into her cleavage but that was fixed with the cream silk scarf Donna had added. The pair of slip-on half-heels were perfect and she’d even thrown in costume jewellery. God bless her favourite concierge.
At least she didn’t feel like the poor relation any more.
Mascara and lipstick would do if she didn’t want to be late. Carmen paused with lipstick in hand in front of the mirror. Did she want to be late?
She smiled at herself. She’d probably pulled enough tails today. In fact, she’d take her attacker dye.
‘Evening, Yusuf.’ The man’s eyes glittered at her as he stood up to accompany her. ‘I can find my own way.’
He bowed impassively. ‘But I will accompany you.’
He didn’t have to ask her to wait while he opened the heavy door at the top of the stairwell. It was funny how they all opted for the stairs now. She guessed she’d learned some of the rules at least.
While she waited she remembered the first time she’d stood here like this. Had it been only three days ago? So much had happened.
So much that her world might prove a little flat when all these unusual people moved on from her life.
In the hallway the other guard, still standing like before, watched them approach. She doubted he even leant against the wall when he was tired.
Yusuf knocked and the same woman opened it. Déjà vu. Except this time Carmen wondered if the woman was Zafar’s concubine. She banished that thought because for some reason it spoiled her evening.
As she walked past the woman inclined her head in deference. Carmen frowned. She was pretty sure she hadn’t done that last time.
She was still pondering when Zafar’s door opened and he came through—in tailored slacks and a silk shirt. A very poor attempt at not looking like a million bucks.
‘As asaalum al aikum. Peace be with you.’ He smiled.
Nice of him to translate for her. ‘Good evening.’
‘Now, why did I think you would be late?’
Carmen shrugged. ‘Because you don’t know me?’
‘But I will,’ he said quietly. He gestured to the cushions spread on the carpet beside a low table or a table and chairs on the balcony, then said more conversationally, ‘Would you prefer to sit inside or out? Fatima will lay the table.’
She glanced out the door to the balcony, screened from other guests by a metal lattice and with a northern view over Coogee it would be criminal to waste. Lots of air space around them if not physical distance. And she’d rather be at eyelevel with him on a chair.
‘Outside.’
He nodded to Fatima, who picked up a wicker basket and moved outside, where she proceeded to produce everything needed, like Mary Poppins or, more appropriately, an Arabic genie, out of the bag. When the table was set she disappeared into the tiny kitchen and wheeled out a trolley with dishes of food.
Zafar picked up a bottle from a stand of ice. ‘Perhaps I could pour you a drink while we wait. Champagne?’
Something to settle the butterflies that had landed in her stomach perhaps. It seemed he wasn’t a strict Muslim, thank goodness, for the way she felt at the moment… ‘Champagne would be lovely.’
He held the glass and she reached for it carefully, ridiculously anxious not to touch his fingers, until his eyes met hers. He knew. And with that one glance she knew he knew. She frowned, decided not to play the game and took it firmly. His fingers tingled against her own.
‘Thank you.’
He turned away, but not before she could see his amusement.
Carmen looked at Fatima and took a couple of calming breaths. The servant had arranged dishes of food and napkins beside a huge flat dish of white rice, another with sliced lamb roast. She recognised the bowls of stuffed tomatoes, a dark and aromatic stew with lime-green beans wafted an amazing aroma her way, along with several dishes she didn’t recognise. Surely far too much for just the two of them. Carmen looked away.
‘Ah. Fatima is finished.’ He tilted his head at his servant. ‘Leave.’ The woman bowed and left the room.
‘Now, I find that offensive.’ She’d thought she was talking to herself as she moved out to the balcony but apparently not under her breath enough.
‘And you think I should care what you think?’
Carmen threw her head up but his eyes were crinkled with amusement. It seemed she was hilarious, Carmen thought mutinously.
She must have looked murderous because he held out is hands. ‘I’m sorry. Couldn’t resist. I can almost see you with your can of Mace pointed at Yusuf.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Mace is illegal. This is dye for self-defence.’
This impossibly handsome man, ridiculously wealthy, accustomed to his servants obeying his every command and probably accustomed to women falling at his feet. He must find it strange to be less revered in another culture. It must be strange when he was with her.
He was watching her. Still with amusement in his eyes. ‘Did you bring it?’
Now what was he talking about? ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Your pressure-pack protection.’
She smiled. ‘You’ll never know.’
For a moment she thought he was going to ask to see her purse. He didn’t and it felt as though she’d won a small victory.
It made her wonder why he didn’t become more impatient with her lack of amenability. ‘How can you be normal at times and so arrogant at others?’
‘With you?’ So he had read her mind again. ‘I’m still working that out. It is novel for me. I was born into privilege, which I assure you comes with responsibility, but I studied in England and latterly Australia. You have very good schools, a school system that levels a young man so he understands your abhorrence of our feudal system.’
He shrugged. ‘I understand a little of the differences between you and the women in my culture.’ He pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit.
‘But I am first of all a prince of my country and second a travelled man. I was angry today and not without power. Perhaps it would be wise for you to remember that.’
He sat opposite and she took a sip of her drink to fill the silence between them. When she put her drink down she did have something to say. ‘I don’t like it that you had me investigated.’
He nodded. ‘I noticed.’ Well, at least she’d got that point across. He went on. ‘It is as well we discuss this now.’
He leaned across to top up her glass but she covered it with her hand. ‘I need my wits with you.’
He put the bottle back and she noticed he wasn’t drinking. ‘I’m flattered.’ He didn’t look it.
‘Don’t be.’ She thought he was going to
follow up on her comment but in the end he changed tack.
He hitched the sleeve of his right hand and gestured to the food. ‘Eat.’
Carmen carefully transferred some rice and a tomato to her plate with her knife and fork. She couldn’t bring herself to use her fingers.
There was something erotically earthy about a man eating slowly with his fingers. Zafar watched her. ‘Try this.’ He picked up a sliver of something that turned out to be aromatic lamb, which she obediently tasted, but the taste was nothing to the feel of his fingers against her lips and her stomach kicked at that sensation.
‘Please don’t feed me.’
Zafar could not take his eyes off her. He savoured the play of light across her skin as her expression changed like the ocean in front of them. Her sense of humour amused him—she made him smile more than he’d smiled for a long time—and her anger was transparent because she made no attempt to disguise it when he had annoyed her. A new experience for a woman to show her displeasure and probably good for his soul. No doubt a concept that would have amused his departed mother.
The change in his thinking had continued since he’d witnessed Carmen help that woman give birth in the park. He was touched by the way she had cared for the frightened young woman. He wasn’t sure why it had made such an impact on him. Then she spoke of it. ‘I rang the hospital today to see how our mother and baby are doing.’
Had she read his mind? If she had, she would have read more than she’d bargained for. He bit back a smile. ‘And are they well?’
She smiled at him and he took the gift of that and stored it away in a corner of his cold heart.
‘You know they are. You checked as well. I understand they haven’t seen a flower arrangement so exotically expensive for years. Jenny feels very special.’
He watched her taste the rice and an expression of unexpected pleasure crossed her face at the subtle tang she would not be used to. ‘I’m glad she liked it. I am not just the arrogant bully you think me.’ He held up his hand. ‘And I do beg your forgiveness for that. Holding my nephew brought back the reality of my loss and I behaved badly towards you. I apologise.’
She looked less than convinced but inclined her head. ‘I accept your apology. So what else do you do when you’re not being an ogre or having people investigated?’
‘Tsk. So hard on me.’
She shrugged, unrepentant, and to his horror he wanted to pull her into his arms and seduce her bravado away. How could he forget the pain from the past? The time was not right for that, could never be, while his role lay in the royal household.
Where were his barriers? His safeguards from creating a relationship?
He should be thinking of more important things. ‘My investigation of you was carried out because I wish to offer you a short tenure as Fadia’s assistant.’
CHAPTER SIX
SOMETHING was going on in his mind that was outside the conversation. Carmen could sense it. Physically feel it. Even discern his slight withdrawal. She opened her mouth to refuse but he held up his hand and to her utter disgust she waited obediently.
‘And I need to be sure she and her sons would be safe with you.’ Now he paused to wait for her comment.
‘So I can talk now?’
He nodded good-naturedly and she realised she was in danger of sounding ill-tempered. How did he put her in the wrong when he was the chauvinist?
Carmen straightened the scarf around her shoulders as if to gather her control closer to her chest then counted to three. She spoke in her usual calm voice. ‘I see her need. But I’m a midwife, not a mothercraft nurse. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your money on investigations.’
‘You are good at your job. Fadia likes you and needs a friend.’ He shrugged. ‘So that is enough for me. I wish to secure your services.’
‘It seems she lost a friend today.’ She tilted her head at him.
‘Did she?’
‘I gather Tom is not in the picture any more?’
Zafar questioned her blandly. ‘Is he not?’
She decided he looked lazily ruthless. And disgustingly attractive with it. So now she was attracted to dangerous men? What was happening to her? ‘I’m asking you. He is conspicuous by his non-appearance since the one time outside Fadia’s door.’
No answer to her question. Just one of his own. ‘So you assume I have done something?’
She just raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t look so surprised.’ As if. He didn’t look surprised at all.
He shrugged. ‘It is my intention to be aware of things that are my concern.’ He added some lamb to her plate.
Now they were down to the nitty-gritty. ‘Then be concerned for your cousin’s state of mind. With Tom off the scene she will be alone again and she has already lost her husband. Safeguards need to be in place. She’s frightened she’ll lose control to the palace servants and maybe even access to her sons.’
He leaned forward and pinned her with his full attention. ‘I thank you for sharing that.’ He shook his head, obviously pained. ‘I would not do that. I have learned the difficult choice my mother had to make. I’ve lost my own son and know that feeling of emptiness.’ His sincerity made her throat tighten.
He went on. ‘I will champion Fadia and only want what is best for her in this difficult time. Hence the real need for you to consider my request that you accompany her.’
And Fadia had pleaded as well. Carmen pushed temptation behind her and looked away. There were too many variables for that course. Too many dangers, and one of the most dangerous sat opposite. ‘I’ve already told you I have two jobs.’
He brushed that aside. ‘And you’re almost too tired to do either. You work at least seventy hours a week on mixed shifts. Why? For money. Ridiculous.’
See, she admonished herself. He’d been checking up again. ‘That’s none of your business.’
He ignored that. Perhaps he ignored everything people said that he didn’t agree with. ‘I believe you have holiday leave owing?’
Yes, but none she could take without a big drop in pay. Why was she discussing this? ‘I suppose you have that in writing from my employers?’
‘I have verbal confirmation, which is sufficient.’ He shrugged that inconvenience away. ‘What if I offered to clear all your debts for the sake of two weeks work in Zandorro with Fadia?’
She’d forgotten he’d known about the debts. It was obscene to have that much money to tempt people with. He was forcing her hand.
Or was she a fool to throw away the chance of a new life for two weeks work with a woman she wanted to help?
Could she leave Australia? Go to a country where she couldn’t even speak the language or understand the customs? Could she trust him? Her nerve endings stood up and waved in distress.
‘Well, what would you say?
‘I’d say I sold my soul to the devil.’
He tossed his head. ‘You are being dramatic.’ His eyes no longer smiled. ‘But would you say yes?’
She stared back at him. Could feel herself weakening under his gaze. Bowing before his will when she didn’t want or mean to. She knew how this could end. ‘No.’
‘Why not.’
She knew the answer to that one too. ‘You’re arrogant enough while you have no power over me. I imagine you’d be intolerable as my employer.’
His gaze bored into hers. The food lay forgotten between them. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘I’m not stupid.’
He smiled at her and she almost smiled back. ‘No, you’re not, but what is it most that worries you?’
Everything, nothing, nothing she could pin down. ‘I could find myself adrift in a strange country without any job.’
He didn’t deny her fears. Just rang a bell and Fatima
reappeared and began to clear the table.
Carmen was left in limbo. Confused at the sudden halt in the conversation.
No doubt it was all a part of the Eastern customs of taking one’s time with negotiations. She was more of the thrash-it-out-and-finish-it kinda gal but there wasn’t much she could do.
Time passed as options kaleidoscoped in her head in confusing patterns. She was no nearer to a decision when Fatima had finished and poured small gold cups of thick coffee, which she placed beside them. At Zafar’s command she left a jewelled coffee pot in the centre alongside a tray of tiny baklava.
‘Coffee?’
She nodded and he poured. ‘Please, finish the conversation.’
He took a sip and held his cup. ‘If I promised that wouldn’t happen? If I paid what I promised into your bank account here, now, and you would keep that even if the job didn’t work out? Plus a return air fare you could use at any time.’
Stop tempting me. Ridiculous offer. Carmen bit her lip. Surely he was joking. ‘Nobody would pay that.’
‘You say I am a nobody?’ The cup went down and his chin went up. Oops. Insulted him again. Every inch the prince. Too easy to offend. She watched him regather his patience and go on.
‘Supplying money is not hard. Finding people to trust is.’
She could see his point. But that was the crunch. She didn’t trust him. Or perhaps herself. ‘You may have decided to trust me but it’s not mutual.’
He brushed that side. ‘That is not necessary. I have given my word.’
She didn’t laugh. Could see he meant it. Just wondered if his interpretation differed from hers. What was she thinking, even considering this? She wouldn’t fit in. Then again, what did she have to fit in with? ‘And what of your henchman? Yusuf hates me.’
That perplexed him. ‘This worries you because…?’
She guessed it was unlikely Yusuf would do anything his master wouldn’t like. But she didn’t need any more pressure. Doing it for money was bad enough. ‘Let’s not talk about it any more. I’ll think about your offer.’
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