The Sheikh Who Claimed Her: Master of the Desert / The Sheikh's Reluctant Bride / Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife. Teresa Southwick
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hadn’t failed to notice how the woman’s face had lit up when she spoke of the ruling sheikh, and had gathered that the hopes of the people were invested in their new leader. No wonder Saif had been offended when she had teased him about his sheikh. She understood now that Ra’id al Maktabi was looked upon as the saviour of his country.
Before he could deal with the Helena problem, he wanted to make sure that arrangements for the girl’s safe passage home had been made. The sooner she went, the better. Reports on her progress were brought to him daily, which made it impossible to close that chapter until she was gone.
He rang his secretary to check that everything was in place, and, having been reassured that all the travel details were in order, he was reminded of an appointment that evening, a charity event he must attend. It was an event in the old style with no women present. He was in the process of putting an end to this segregation of the sexes, before any more good brains were wasted—a thought that immediately brought a flashback of a very determined young woman. What would Tuesday make of an event where she wouldn’t be allowed past the door?
There was a smile on his lips as he shook his head at the thought of her reaction, but the event was for charity, and had been organised during his father’s reign, so he would make time for it. Whatever his personal feelings, he could put up with one more evening of wall-to-wall men. When he returned from the event he would set about reclaiming the land that had been stolen from his people, and would be relentless in his pursuit of the missing heir.
She wasn’t going to waste a second regretting things that couldn’t be changed, Antonia decided as she came in from the balcony to her sumptuous hotel room. Everything was so beautiful in Sinnebar; how could she not be filled with a sense of optimism? And what else could life throw at her? She had to be over the worst now.
In fact, she was feeling quite positive, if only because this evening had provided her with an unexpected chance to put her plans for the charity into action. Her official appointment at the palace wasn’t for three weeks yet, and she had intended to use that time to travel the country and learn more about the people. But fate had presented her with an unrepeatable opportunity to get a preview of the movers and shakers in Sinnebar. The moment the girl at the reception desk in the hotel had told her there was going to be a charity event that evening in the hotel ballroom, Antonia knew she must be there. She didn’t have an invitation, because no one knew she was in the country yet, but there was nothing to stop her slipping into the crowded ballroom and mingling. At least she had to try. All the local officials were expected to attend, including the ruling sheikh.
The ruling sheikh!
The thought of seeing him both terrified and excited her. The Sword of Vengeance—who wouldn’t be excited? And her heart rate soared to think that Saif might be there too. If he was a close supporter of the sheikh, surely there was a very good chance?
Society events were second nature to her, thanks to her brother’s high-powered life. She would blend in and get to know as many people as she could, taking the first steps towards making her dream of becoming an effective member of Rigo’s charity team a reality. At last here was something she understood and couldn’t make a mess of.
There was a shopping mall at the hotel where Antonia found everything she would need for the evening ahead. She chose a simple silk gown in apricot silk and teamed it with a pair of flesh-coloured high-heeled sandals, and a beaded clutch bag in the same soft shade. The girl in the hairdresser’s suggested a fresh orchid to pin in her hair as a finishing touch.
Understated and discreet, Antonia thought as she took a twirl in front of the mirror in her room. The gown had a floating chiffon throw to cover her arms, and her back was covered too, so the dress was modest. It was a dream of a dress, she thought happily as she left the room, with nothing about it that could offend in this most conservative of desert kingdoms. No wonder she felt so optimistic about the evening ahead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS an all-male gathering, which was definitely not what Antonia had bargained for. She was rocked back on her heels and hesitated outside the ornately carved double doors. She quickly gathered, from the glances she was attracting from the security guards, that she would not be welcome inside the ballroom. But they couldn’t stop her peeping inside the room. It was an exclusive occasion, judging by the number of ribbons and orders worn by the robed men already seated at the beautifully dressed tables. Crystal glass and silver cutlery glittered in the muted candlelight, and there was a buzz of anticipation in the hall, but absolutely no chance to slip in unnoticed as she had hoped. She would stick out like a sore thumb as the only woman present.
This was definitely not a suitable forum in which to lobby support for her plan, Antonia concluded. She had no option but to wait another three weeks for her official appointment. But, as she drew back in disappointment from the door, her heart wouldn’t allow her to leave. What if Saif was coming? What if he was already here? What if she could see him one last time?
She couldn’t leave, so she came up with a risky plan. She would try to get in at the back of the ballroom, where she could see some steps leading up to a mezzanine area. She would be able to see everything from there.
Including the man who sat on the sapphire throne …
Antonia’s gaze lingered. She’d seen images of Sheikh Ra’id’s sapphire throne on the Internet, but nothing could have prepared her for the actual brilliance of the gold, or the lustre of the royal-blue sapphires with which it was so lavishly studded. Just thinking about the man who would occupy this legendary seat of power sent a shiver down her spine. You crossed the ruling Sheikh of Sinnebar at your peril, she had heard.
Dragging her gaze away from the blazing splendour of this formidable leader’s throne, she crossed the lobby and slipped out of the building. Skirting the perimeter until she found a side entrance, she waited until the security guards were briefly distracted and then slipped inside through the staff entrance. Shoes in hand, she pelted up the back stairs, feeling certain her heart would explode with guilty fear.
Fortunately, the door to the mezzanine level was unlocked.
More tables had been set out for dinner on this upper level, for less important folk, she guessed. Taking quick stock of the situation, she decided if she hid behind a pillar no one would see her, while she could see everything that was happening below. This was her chance to weigh up the type of people she would be dealing with for the charity, and even the slimmest chance of seeing Saif made it worth the risk. The thought of seeing him and the fearsome Sword of Vengeance all in the same day made her heart thunder.
Taking a moment to calm down, she studied her surroundings carefully. She was at eye level with the royal standard, which was suspended behind the jewelled throne. That image made her heart leap when she remembered the last time she had seen it had been on Saif’s naked chest. That was all the prompt she needed to begin scouring the rows of tables in search of him.
He wasn’t there. She didn’t really need to look to know, her heart would have told her if Saif had been close by. She was still trembling with emotion and disappointment when a noise like a wave breaking on the shore swept over the vast auditorium. As everyone rose to their feet, Antonia held her breath, realising the ruling sheikh was about to enter.
There was a peal of trumpets and then a procession began. A group of older men all dressed in elegant ivory robes walked proudly down the broad aisle between the tables. As all the other men bowed low to them, she realised that each of them must be a king in his own right, which was a reminder of the power their sheikh wielded.
As this group fanned out to take their places around their leader’s throne, Antonia strained forward, still hoping for a glimpse of Saif. Once again, she was disappointed. He definitely wasn’t amongst Ra’id al Maktabi’s attendants—and probably wasn’t even a member of the court, she thought, angry with herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her. There was certainly no one to compare with Saif here.
She was distracted and missed the moment when the ruling sheikh entered the room. She didn’t see him, but she felt his presence. It