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      CHAPTER ONE

       SAND, sand and more sand.

      Her father couldn’t have sent her to a more remote place if he’d put her in a rocket and sent her to the moon. And if that had been possible, no doubt he would have signed the cheque, Bella thought bitterly as she curled her bare toes into the coarse sand of the desert and stared across the stark landscape. Come to think of it, this might as well be the moon. Or maybe Mars. The red planet.

      Why a retreat in the middle of the desert?

      Why not a nice spa on Fifth Avenue?

      ‘Bella?’

      Hearing her name, Bella gave a moan of despair. Already? It was barely daylight.

      Reluctantly, she turned. None of this was his fault, she reminded herself. It wasn’t fair to take her anger and frustration out on him. ‘Early start, Atif?’

      He was dressed simply in a white robe, the fabric glaring under the beginnings of the Arabian sun. ‘I meditate before dawn.’

      Bella suppressed a yawn. ‘Personally I prefer to start my day with a strong black coffee.’

      ‘You can find a better start to the day by feasting on what lies around you,’ the old man murmured. ‘There’s nothing as calming as watching the sunrise in the desert. Don’t you find the peace soothing?’

      ‘Honestly? It’s driving me stark-staring nuts.’ Without thinking, Bella reached for her phone and then remembered that it had been confiscated, along with everything else that she needed to communicate with the outside world. She tapped her empty palm impatiently against her thigh and then looked down at her fingernails with distaste. Given the choice between a coffee and a manicure, she would have opted for the manicure. ‘Do you actually own this place?’

      ‘I am merely passing through. When I am ready, I will move on.’

      ‘I would have moved on after two minutes given the chance! I’ve been here for two weeks and it feels like a life sentence.’

      How could her father do this to her? Thanks to him, she’d been cut off from everyone. Left alone at a time when she desperately needed human comfort.

      The shocking discovery she’d made only two weeks earlier had left her numb and emotionally drained. The person she’d been before that night had gone forever. So had the naive assumptions she’d nurtured throughout her life.

      Regret tore through her

       You shouldn’t have looked, Bella.

      Like Pandora, she’d lifted the lid of the box and now she was paying the price.

      ‘You allow emotion to grip you the way a falcon grips its prey.’ Atif watched her with the same tranquil expression he adopted during their sessions together. ‘You are angry, but your father sent you here for your own benefit.’

      ‘He sent me here as a punishment because I embarrassed him.’ Bella wrapped her arms around herself and wondered how she could feel cold in such a hot, oppressive place. ‘I’ve embarrassed the whole family. Brought the Balfour name into disrepute. Again.’ But no one had considered what the whole sordid incident had done to her. And the fact that no one had considered her feelings simply increased her sense of abandonment.

      Remembering everything that had happened on the night of the Balfour Ball, Bella felt a lump build in her throat. She wanted to know how her sister Olivia was feeling about the whole thing—she wanted to make amends.

      Her behaviour had been bad—she knew that. But she’d been goaded. Upset. And Olivia had said things too …

      ‘Can I have my phone back just to send one text?’ Suddenly it seemed desperately important that she contact her twin. ‘Or could I use your computer? I haven’t checked my emails for two weeks!

      ‘That isn’t possible, Bella.’

      ‘I’m going mad, Atif! Sand and silence are a lousy combination.’ She glanced around her desperately and her attention focused on a cluster of low whitewashed buildings she’d noticed earlier in the week. ‘How about those stables over there—can I at least go for a ride or something? Just for an hour.’

      ‘They are nothing to do with the Retreat. The stables are privately owned.’

      ‘Strange place to keep horses.’ Bella studied the guards standing by the entrance. Why would a stable need guards? ‘Well, if I can’t borrow a horse could I at least have my iPod? I find it easier to relax to music.’

      ‘Silence is golden.’

      ‘Around here, everything is golden.’ Simmering with frustration, Bella looked at the shifting sands and an idea took shape in her mind—an outrageous, daring idea. ‘That city we passed through on the way here, tell me about it.’

      ‘Al-Rafid is a sheikhdom, famous for its rich, cultural heritage.’

      ‘Is there oil?’ She forced herself to make casual conversation but all she really wanted to ask was, How long will it take me to get there and do they have high-speed broadband?

      ‘Huge reserves of oil, but the ruling Sheikh is an astute businessman. He has turned what was once an ancient desert city into an international centre for commerce. The buildings on the waterfront are as modern as anything you would find in Manhattan or Canary Wharf, but only a few streets away is the old city with many wonderful examples of Persian architecture. Al-Rafid Palace is the most breathtaking of all, but it is rarely opened to the public because it is home to Sheikh Zafiq and his family.’

      ‘Lucky him, living in a city. He obviously hates the sand too.’

      ‘On the contrary, Sheikh Zafiq loves the desert, but he is a fiercely bright, educated man who has successfully incorporated progressive business thinking into the running of a very traditional country. But he has never forgotten his roots. For one week every year, he allows himself time alone in the desert. Time for reflection. He is a powerful man—some would say ruthless—but he is also a man deeply aware of his responsibilities.’

      Responsibility…

      Wasn’t that the last word her father had said to her before he’d sent her into exile? Bella squirmed uncomfortably, trying to ease the sharp prick of her conscience. ‘So … this sheikh. Is he married with eight wives and a hundred children?’

      ‘His Highness has not yet chosen a wife. His family background is complicated.’

      ‘I bet it’s a picnic compared to mine.’

      ‘Sheikh Zafiq’s mother was a princess, much loved by everyone. Unfortunately she died when he was a baby.’

      ‘She died?’ Bella felt as though she’d been thumped in the chest. Like her, he’d lost his mother as a child. She felt compelled to find out more about the powerful, ruthless Sheikh, forgetting that her original objective had been simply