Pregnant By The Desert King. Susan Stephens
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I am tonight,’ she explained.
‘Nice to know you trust me,’ he mocked lightly, ‘but sensible.’
‘I thought so,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t take chances.’
‘Nor should you,’ he confirmed as a uniformed officer stepped forward to escort them on deck. He liked Lucy more and more, and couldn’t help comparing her to all the other women who wound around him like clinging vines in the hope that things might progress. Not Lucy. She slapped her cards down on the table face up, no nonsense.
‘So, Your Importance,’ she murmured as they walked ahead of the other guests, ‘privilege all the way for you. What am I supposed to call you in front of people?’
‘Nothing rude.’
‘Then, be nice to me.’
‘I intend to be,’ he assured her. ‘Call me Tadj—or Lord and Master, if you prefer.’
‘Tadj will do nicely,’ she said.
‘Sir...’
‘Yes?’ He glanced sideways at the officer detailed to escort them.
‘Sheikh Khalid is waiting to greet you.’
He glanced up and saw his striking friend watching their embarkation with amusement. ‘Of course,’ he murmured, acknowledging the officer with a brief dip of his head. ‘Come on,’ he added to Lucy. ‘There’s a lot I want you to see before you meet our host.’ He didn’t feel like sharing her. ‘I don’t want you to miss a single moment on board the Sapphire tonight.’
His determination intensified as Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement; whether that was for him, or for this fabulous event, for once, he didn’t know.
* * *
This was partying on a scale Lucy could never have imagined, even in her wildest fantasy. Jewel-studded boxes to hold the invitations...guests in diamonds, exuding clouds of exclusive scent...limos lined up on the dock as more guests arrived, and then those guests being made to stand in line while Lucy walked past on the arm of the Emir of Qalala. That was just crazy. Accepting that a vessel as huge as the Sapphire was privately owned took another immense leap of faith. There were so many decks, so many bands playing, so many guests milling about, and floral installations beyond magnificent that gave Kew Gardens at the height of summer a run for its money. The scent of blossom was intoxicating, as was the tang of ozone, but, above everything else, it was the smell of money, of outrageous wealth, that really threatened to choke her.
‘Feeling nauseous?’ Tadj commented when she made a noise down deep in her throat. ‘And we’re not even moving yet.’
‘Nor will we, I hope,’ she said, recovering fast. ‘At least, not while I’m on board. I’m just feeling a bit out of place,’ she admitted, ‘amongst all these diamonds and pin-thin figures dressed in designer clothes.’
‘Nonsense,’ Tadj insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘You’re the most beautiful woman here. And the most intelligent.’
‘Did you give everyone an IQ test?’ she queried, with the reminder not to take herself so seriously. ‘Okay, so you know most of the women here,’ she remarked with a grin, as Tadj looked at her in a certain way. ‘I should have known.’
‘Most of them aren’t renowned for their academic qualifications,’ he admitted, ‘but they have other qualities.’
‘Spare me,’ she begged. ‘I don’t need a rundown of the sordid details.’
‘Relax. Enjoy yourself,’ he advised.
Why not? This was incredible. ‘Thank you for inviting me,’ she said. It was just unfortunate that her gaze slipped to his mouth as she added, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before.’
He laughed softly down deep in his chest. ‘Feast your eyes,’ he invited.
She would. This was the Emir of Qalala, and the Emir of Qalala had kissed her. She had no idea if he would ever do so again, but she would remember that kiss for the rest of her life. He was one hot guy, so why not enjoy this as Tadj suggested? It wasn’t every day that fantasy turned into the best type of reality. She liked him more and more. He was courteous and fun to be with, and as hot as hell.
‘Drink?’ he suggested.
‘Sparkling water, please.’ Must keep a level head, she warned herself, and something told her that wouldn’t be easy tonight.
‘Sparkling water, mademoiselle?’ a steward invited, handing Lucy a crystal glass.
‘Are you hungry?’ Tadj enquired when the steward had left them.
‘Shouldn’t we go and meet our host?’ she asked, wishing her body wouldn’t respond quite so willingly to the amused heat in Tadj’s eyes.
‘No hurry. The other guests will keep him busy for a while.’
‘I’m okay with water for now, thank you.’ How could she eat while her senses were being subjected to an overload of testosterone? Tadj made her long for all things forbidden, and she had to remind herself that she was nothing more than a dockside novelty for him.
Several wine fountains had been installed on board the Sapphire, and it was here that couples seemed to be congregating. She couldn’t stop staring at them—arms entwined, bodies touching, laughing intimately into each other’s faces.
‘Would you like me to fill your glass?’ Tadj prompted with a curving smile as he glanced at the glittering stream.
For a moment she was lost for words, and then came to with a jolt. ‘No, thank you. I’m steering clear of the hard stuff tonight, and only drinking water.’
He laughed. ‘Sensible.’
‘Always,’ she confirmed.
They stared at each other for a few potent moments, during which time Tadj looked like a mythical hero, while she tried to stop her cheeks flaming red. But if there was a cure for blushing, she hadn’t found it yet, something to do with her pale Celtic skin that showed every emotion whether she wanted it to or not.
‘Why did you invite me tonight?’
‘Fireworks,’ he said.
She blinked and then realised what he meant as plumes of light began to explode all around the ship. ‘I really want to know,’ she pressed.
This was dangerous. She was always so cool where men were concerned, and with good reason, having the experience of her stepfather behind her, but with Tadj cool was becoming increasingly impossible.
‘Look!’
His touch on her arm made her jump, and it took her a moment to follow his stare to the circus performers in glittering green costumes, swinging high over their heads. She gasped, and not just because of the risks the acrobats were taking, but because Tadj had swung an arm possessively around her shoulders, which was a risk right here.
‘And down there,’ he said as she was about to wriggle free.
And breathe, Lucy instructed herself firmly, making herself relax as Tadj turned her to see the fire-eaters and jugglers performing.
‘We’ve got a lot more to see,’ he said as he moved and took her with him across the deck.
He wasn’t joking. The next place they stopped had been transformed into a souk, complete with flower stalls and food outlets, as well as flashy gifts of every type. The attendants behind the stalls were exotically and colourfully robed, and played a good part as they shouted their wares to the passing guests. No money changed hands, and there was quite a crowd competing for the hats, shawls, beads and ornaments, with which to adorn their designer clothes.
‘This isn’t a party, it’s a theatrical production,’ Lucy commented as she glanced up at Tadj.
‘One