Taken by the Sheikh. Penny Jordan
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marriages?’ Drax frowned again. They were thirty-four. One day, of course, they would both marry, choosing their wives carefully and with due consideration for the future of their country, but that time was not here yet. Right now they had far more important things to do—like establishing Dhurahn as the strongest financial powerhouse in the region.
‘Our marriages,’ Vere repeated grimly. ‘Yours to the Emir’s eldest daughter and mine to the Ruler’s youngest sister.’
The two brothers looked at one another.
‘Such marriages would strengthen our ties with both countries, but it would also strengthen their potential involvement with Dhurahn,’ Drax pointed out. ‘While we stand between them, and get on well with both the Ruler and the Emir, there are issues on which they do not agree. The Emir has never approved of the Ruler’s decision to expand Zuran’s involvement with the tourist industry. Currently we hold the balance of power between them, and ours is in many ways the stronger position.’
‘And, while he is loath to admit it, the Emir is jealous of the growing financial status and success of Zuran, and eager to match it. If we agree to their suggestion and take as wives members of their families both of them will try to use the link marriage creates to demand greater allegiance and support from us: in effect to control the power we hold. We can’t let that happen. Apart from anything else it could, theoretically, mean that there might come a time when our loyalty to one another and Dhurahn could be in conflict with the loyalty demanded of us by our wives and their families.’
‘And if we don’t agree we’ll risk offending both the Ruler and the Emir, causing them to lose face, and we can’t afford to be on bad terms. It could harm our plans to establish Dhurahn as the financial and business capital of the region.’
‘Yes.’
Angrily Drax paced the floor. ‘We cannot allow ourselves to be manipulated like this.’
‘Neither of us wants to be tied via marriage to either of our neighbours,’ Vere agreed grimly. ‘Dhurahn must always govern its own future, and it is our duty to ensure that it does.’
‘But, as you said, if we refuse then we risk offending two very powerful men.’ Drax thought quickly. ‘Unless, of course, we tell them that we are refusing because we are committed to marriage elsewhere. That way they’d stop pressuring us and they wouldn’t lose face.’
‘And when they discover that we are not getting married?’
‘Do they need to discover that?’ Drax asked. Vere was frowning but Drax persevered coolly. ‘Both the Ruler and the Emir know that it is the tradition for our family and our people to take only one wife. It is not, surely, an insurmountable task to find women—the right kind of women—we could marry, and then—’
‘The right kind?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Drax shrugged dismissively. ‘The dispensable, disposable type—morally decent enough to be acceptable and naïve enough to agree to be divorced with the minimum of fuss and pay-off.’
‘Oh, that kind,’ Vere said cynically. ‘A naïve virgin ready to fall in love with a sheikh and be so grateful to him for marrying her that she willingly accepts being divorced and put aside without wanting a penny. Do they still exist? Somehow I don’t think so,’ he told Drax dryly. ‘Certainly if you could find us such a bride apiece then I would gladly marry mine. But we both know that the kind of woman who would agree to the sort temporary marriage we would want is hardly likely to be the sweet virgin our people would expect. The reality is that she is more likely to be an adventuress, who would demand an extortionate amount of money to go through with a temporary marriage in the first place and who would then probably attempt to sell her story to the press. That kind of media attention would be bound to have a damaging effect on how we are perceived by the rest of the world as men of integrity.’ Vere shook his head. ‘No, Drax. It sounds like the perfect way out of our current dilemma, but my view is that it would be impossible to find even one woman let alone two of the right type—and fast enough to bring an end to the Ruler’s and the Emir’s determination to have us marry into their families.’
Drax’s eyes gleamed like those of a predatory black panther. ‘Is that a challenge, brother?’
Vere laughed. ‘I know better than to issue you with any challenges, Drax. But if you can find a woman—’
‘Two women,’ Drax corrected him. ‘I promise you I shall find them, Vere. And you shall have the first of them.’
‘Mmm…’ Vere looked unconvinced. ‘Very well. But in the meantime the only way to keep our neighbours at bay is to continue negotiations with the Ruler and the Emir while avoiding making any kind of commitment. The Ruler has invited us to make an unofficial visit to Zuran,’ Vere continued. ‘And I rather thought you ought to be the one to go, Drax.’
‘You mean that the Ruler wants you for his sister, since you are the elder,’ Drax guessed shrewdly, ‘and you want me to put up some delaying tactics. Why not? They want to talk to you in London, by the way,’ he told Vere. ‘I said that you would be free to fly there for more negotiations once I was back in Dhurahn.’
‘One of the benefits of dual rulership—one pair of hands always available to hold onto the helm of leadership here in Dhurahn, no matter what matters of state require our presence elsewhere.’
‘But you are the one who prefers to remain here in the desert,’ Drax pointed out. ‘I am the one who welcomes the cut and thrust of pursuing our business activities elsewhere.’
‘A perfect partnership—built on a trust nothing can destroy and absolute loyalty.’
Silently they clasped hands, and then, in the manner of their Arabic ancestors, they exchanged a fierce, brotherly embrace.
‘YOU are useless—totally and completely useless. I cannot imagine why I ever thought you were up to the demands of this job. You claim to have a degree, and an MBA, and yet you cannot do the simplest thing you are told.’
On and on went the harsh, critical voice of her Lebanese employer, while Sadie dutifully bowed her head beneath the weight of the venom being directed towards her, all too aware that if she looked directly at Madame al Sawar now the other woman would see all too clearly the angry hostility in her own eyes. And Sadie could not afford to give madame the opportunity to threaten, as she had done many times already in the two months that Sadie had worked there, to withhold the wages still owing to her.
To be accused so unfairly and so vindictively was bad enough, but to have to stand here and be berated in a voice loud enough to carry to the rest of the al Sawar household—a traditional Arab household, where loss of face was something to be dreaded and avoided at all costs—made it even worse. It was typical of her employer, Sadie recognised, that she should choose to accost and accuse her while she was enjoying her legitimate lunch-break in the peace of the pretty courtyard garden of the al Sawars’ traditional Moorish-style Zuran home. Sadie knew perfectly well that, although she could not see them, most of household staff would belingering in the shadows of the building, listening to their employer hectoring her assistant.
Not that they could avoid hearing what was going on, with madame screaming and shouting so loudly. The whole street could probably hear, Sadie reflected miserably. She wasn’t the only recipient of her employer’s vile temper. Scarcely a day went by without madame losing her temper with someone.
Sadie could have defended herself against her employer’s unfair accusations, of course, and told her that she did indeed possess both a First Class Honours degree and an MBA. And she could have told her, too, that as much as Madame al Sawar regretted employing her it couldn’t come close to her own regret at having taken the job. But the truth was that she simply couldn’t afford to lose this job—not with madame having consistently refused to pay her since she came here.
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