Falling for the Sheikh She Shouldn't. Fiona McArthur
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way.’ He opened the door to the stairwell and allowed her to precede him. Carmen could hear the swish of his robes behind her, even though his footsteps were silent.
‘Please wait.’
She glanced back and Yusuf held up his hand.
She paused at the top of the stairs and the guard leaned forward and opened the heavy door for her. That second of waiting gave her time to realise she had no clear agenda for her visit with the prince when she arrived. Was it enough of her business to barge in? What on earth was she doing here?
On the seventh floor Carmen could see another guard standing outside the door to the presidential suite and the reality sank in a little further about how different this man’s life was from hers. And how out of her depth she really was.
She paused to say she’d changed her mind but one glance at the cynical face beside her told her dear Yusuf had picked up on her discomfort. Great to know she was providing him with amusement.
That decided her.
Yusuf glanced once more at her determined chin, nodded at the man standing guard, then knocked on the large wooden door.
A few seconds later a tiny robed woman appeared and they spoke a language Carmen didn’t understand but it wasn’t hard to guess what was said—something along the lines of stupid woman annoying our prince, no doubt.
The woman glanced over Carmen, shrugged and stepped back to allow them to enter.
The room opened into a window lined terrace and the magnificent blue vista of Coogee Bay curved like a sickle seven floors below. The scent of sandalwood was strong and quiet discordant music played discreetly in the background.
Several low armchairs were grouped together and there were heaped cushions on colour-rich carpets, all facing the entertainment centre on one side of the room, and a boardroom table with a dozen comfortable chairs took up space on the other.
She’d been in this room before and the furnishing had changed dramatically. It seemed Prince Zafar travelled with his own furniture. A tad different from her bedsit with a rickety bed.
A door leading off into another room opened and Zafar came out—no, she thought, he made an entrance. Dressed in white traditional robes of an Arab, with his head covered, she couldn’t help a little more gaping.
His brows drew together when he saw her but he came forward until he stood in front of her. He looked even bigger and more formidable surrounded by his servants but this time it was not only his physical presence, more the scent of distinct power.
‘You wished to see me.’
She felt the pressure from interested eyes, and he too glanced around. He spoke three short, sharp words that cleared the room like magic.
Despite herself, she was impressed and to her irritation couldn’t deny a little nervous thrill now that they were alone.
‘Please…’ he gestured to the lounge chairs ‘… be seated.’ He gestured to the tiny kitchen. ‘Would you like a juice or water?’
‘No, thank you.’ Despite her dry mouth. Maybe she should have had one to give herself time to think of something to say.
He sat when she did. ‘In that case, what can I do for you?’
She had no idea. ‘I wish to discuss your cousin.’
He inclined his head and she suspected a fleeting crinkle of amusement before he assumed a serious face again. ‘I had guessed that was the case.’
Now she felt silly. Of course he did. She wasn’t here because he’d almost kissed her. Was she? The thought brought a tide of pink to her cheeks and she felt like sliding under the gorgeous carpet or pulling one of those cushions over her face. How did she get herself into these situations?
Another flash of humour. ‘Let me help you.’
She blinked. It wasn’t where she expected help to come from but she’d take it.
‘You’re wondering if I am an ogre, or some medieval lord who drags around unwilling women and their babies…’ he caught her eye and she was sure he could read her agreement in her face, but he went on, ‘… back to being imprisoned in their homeland.’
Just making sure it’s not something like that. ‘Not quite so dramatic but yes.’
‘Thank you for your honesty. Let me explain. Apart from things you cannot be aware of, I think to clear the air between us could save us both some time.’
He smiled at her and she could feel herself soften. Even lean slightly towards him until she realised what she was doing. He seemed so reasonable and she was starting to believe she’d done the right thing to come here in the first place. This guy had serious charisma when he turned it on. She needed to remember that.
A random worry niggled and jostled with her hormones for attention. Please, don’t let me fall again. Carl had been this smooth. This ‘open’ and friendly at first. Before she’d agreed to marry him and discovered how dark his soul really was. She was too easily sucked in by smooth guys. Guys she almost allowed to kiss her in elevators. She felt her shoulders stiffen with the thought. Good.
‘By now you have discovered who I am, although I imagine my title would mean little to you?’ The inflexion made it a question and she answered like the puppet she was trying not to turn into.
‘You’re right. No idea.’
‘So…’ He smiled at her and there was no way she couldn’t smile back, damn him. ‘I am from the small Arabic state of Zandorro that has, by the blessing of Allah, found itself abundantly supplied with oil and precious gems.’
There seemed to be a lot of those around, Carmen thought cynically, but she nodded to show she was paying attention.
‘Our grandfather, King Fahed Al Zamid, is ruler, though his health is not good. Fadia’s father, my uncle, was second in line to the throne until he died.’ He looked at her. ‘Unnatural causes.’
Unnatural causes. She fought to keep her eyebrows level. He went on when she nodded. ‘It was thought Fadia had passed away with her mother several years ago, and as the succession passes only to a male child her wellbeing unfortunately slipped beneath the family’s radar.’
He didn’t explain that but went on. ‘My eldest brother is next in line and I too have become closer to the throne because of these misfortunes.’
He paused, a short one, to see if she understood, and she was glad of the respite while she filed the succession order away in her brain.
She nodded and he continued. ‘But now, with Fadia’s children being male and healthy, they are automatically next in the line of succession.’
She thought about that. Next in line? Major succession. Then he carried on. ‘Unfortunately, this also increases their risk from certain elements once their birth is known, and that is something I have tragic personal experience of. Naturally I am concerned that my cousin and her sons remain safe. And she did ask for help.’
‘Safe. Physical danger? Do you mean kidnapping?’ This was a little more complicated than Fadia had led her to believe. If she believed him, that was, a calm inner voice suggested.
Zafar went on in that reasonable tone that seemed to flow hypnotically. ‘At best. Hence my urgency to find Fadia once we knew she was alive and return her to our country before the babies’ birth in case all of them were in danger away from the palace. At least until we can settle the dangers once and for all. A goal I have been working on.’
‘Do you think there really is a risk of danger?’ She couldn’t help thinking about Fadia’s concerns about Tom.
‘Certainly. Her eldest son is next in line to rule when he comes of age and the younger brother is the next in line after that. Fadia’s sons could provide leverage over the monarchy, which unfortunately is not an uncommon occurrence with our hostile neighbours.’