Cinderella and the Sheikh. NATASHA OAKLEY
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murmured, âWa alaykum as-salaam.â Which she seriously hoped meant âPeace to youâ or something like. Leastways that had been what her Phrases for the Business Traveller to Amrah had said, though her pronunciation was bound to be hit and miss despite the accompanying CD.
âThis is Ali Al-Sabtââ
Behind them there was a loud shout and then a general hum of excitement. Pollyâs eyes went to the glass-protected VIP walkway, high above. At first she noticed the speed at which a group of men on it were walking, their sense of purposeâand then recognition hit her.
She felt as though her stomach had plummeted a couple of hundred feet. Even in the traditional robes of his country Rashid Al Baha was unmistakable. Powerful.
For the tiniest fraction of a second she fancied his footsteps slowed and his eyes met hers. She felt as though everything around her had frozen in a blur of colour. There was only himâ¦and her. Everyone else was as still as if theyâd been paused by a TV remote. He looked directly at her. She was sure he did.
For a moment.
And then the world around her restarted, the noise of the concourse louder than before.
âThatâs Sheikh Rashid Al Baha. He must be returning from the summit in Balkrash.â
Polly wasnât sure which member of the team said that. She watched as Rashid disappeared from sight, still feeling a little shell shocked. She wasnât alone either. Judging from the reaction of the people around her, the Crown Princeâs second son enjoyed a film-star status in his own country. There were fingers pointing all around. An excited chattering, which punctured the general hubbub of airport noise.
âWhat was the summit about?â she asked, bending to adjust the label on her bag.
âPerhaps best if we donât ask those kind of questions,â Steve, the one American of the team, said quietly. âLetâs keep ourselves out of the politics. Contravene that one and I guess weâll be on the first plane out of here.â
Polly agreed and stood quietly by while they waited for Graham to join them with all their equipment.
Seeing Rashid had brought back all the feelings sheâd experienced when sheâd met him at Shelton. He unsettled her. Worried her. It wasnât as though she felt he was attracted to her. Not that. It was that heâ¦was watching her.
Watching her, looking for something that would mean he could make a decision about her. And because she knew he wasnât a man to have as your enemy itâ¦bothered her. At least, she thought that was what she thought.
âReady to go, Polly?â Baz said, coming behind her.
She nodded and let herself be steered towards the exit. Once outside the intense heat hit her like a wall, driving everything else from her mind. Sheâd come expecting the temperatures to be high, but this was searing. Direct sunlight made her grateful for the scarf she had fashioned into a hijab covering her head. Less about modesty, perhaps, and everything about practicality.
âPlease to come this way,â Ali said, indicating a line of waiting cars. Sleek, expensive and so black you might imagine theyâd been dipped in oil. And more incredibly they were surrounded by uniformed guards. Guards with guns.
âPlease. This way.â
Polly looked over her shoulder in time to see Pete duck down into the third car. Graham was anxiously watching their expensive equipment safely stowed away, and John, Baz and Steve had already vanished.
âMiss Anderson,â Ali said, indicating the second car. As she moved towards it the door was held open. Disorientated, she meekly did what was wanted, only hesitating when she realised there was a man already inside. A man she recognised.
âYou?â she said foolishly.
Rashid Al Bahaâs blue eyes met hers. âAs you see.â
âIâI wasnât expecting to see⦠I meanâ¦â Oh, hell! Polly pulled at the scarf covering her blond hair in what she recognised was a nervous gesture. âWere you supposed to be meeting us? Iâm sure we werenât toldââ
His eyes seemed to dance. âThis is a spontaneous gesture of hospitality. There is no way I could have arranged my timetable today to coincide with yours.â
âOh.â And then, rather belatedly, âThank you.â
âAfwan.â
Youâre welcome, she mentally translated, foolishly pleased the hours sheâd spent poring over her phrase book were paying dividends. âAre you sure weâre allowed to be travelling together?â
Rashid settled himself more comfortably in his seat, resting his head back on the rest. âYou have an inaccurate view of my country.â
âI merely wondered whether it was appropriate with you being a member of the royal family.â
âAh.â He turned his head so that he could look at her. âI think youâll find that, as a member of the royal family, Iâm permitted to do as I choose.â
Polly wasnât sure what to answer. Her explanation hadnât been true either, because she had wondered whether it was usual for a woman to travel alone in a private car with an Amrahi man who wasnât a family member. And it seemed Rashid was totally aware of that. His blue eyes were still glinting. Teasing.
Well, if he didnât care, why should she? This wasnât her country. She deliberately concentrated on fastening her seat belt. With the door shut and the tinted windows closed the atmosphere was pleasantly cool. Polly sighed and settled back into the softest leather seat sheâd ever sat in. Soft as butter. She let her fingers rest on the suppleness of it and tried not to think how close Rashid Al Baha was to her. Or how much he unnerved her.
And he really did unnerve her. On every level there was. This close she could feel him breathe, strong and even. It seemed to pulse through her. As did her awareness of his taut body, thighs slightly apart and feet firmly planted against the sway of the car.
âYouâve just returned from a summit, I gather,â she said in an effort to break the silence.
âYes.â
âD-did it go well?â Steveâs words of caution came flooding into her mind. Politics was a no-go area. Part of the stipulations Rashid had made was that they didnât film anything that could be construed as military or politically sensitive. âI donât mean to pry, obviously.â
He said nothing, merely watched her beneath hooded eyes.
âI still canât believe Iâm really here.â Polly nervously pleated one end of her scarf. âOne minute Iâm discussing whether we need to take the chandelier in the Great Hall down for cleaning and the next Iâm here.â
Not the greatest conversational gambit sheâd ever tried, but it was the best she could do. Every sense she had was throbbing with awareness. Every hair on her body standing to attention. She couldnât remember reacting to a man like thisâ¦ever. But then sheâd never met a man quite like him.
Polly turned to look out of the tinted car window. Partly because she needed to have something other than Rashid Al Baha to focus on, and partly because she was captivated by what she was glimpsing.
The guidebooks sheâd devoured hadnât really prepared her. Sheâd come expecting desert and wide blue skies and was confronted by modern glass, steel constructions and six-lane motorways.
âAmrah is a place of great contrasts,â Rashid said, as though