The Sheikh's Shock Child. Susan StephensЧитать онлайн книгу.
in her way. He could tell it was a woman from her height and tiny hands, with which she was gesturing vigorously as if to impress upon the guard that her mission was urgent and she must be allowed on board. She had a large, wheeled container at her side, and it was this that his security personnel, quite rightly, was intent on searching.
‘No,’ she told them with a decisive shake of her head, staring to the sky, as if to point out the obvious: that the rain would ruin her goods. A quick-thinking guard stepped forward with a sniffer dog. Once the dog had made a comprehensive inspection, she was allowed to pass.
Satisfied that she would be accompanied every inch of the way, he pulled back from the window. His guests would be arriving soon for a glamorous evening, so it came as no surprise to him to discover that deliveries were being made.
An officer greeted him as he left the study. ‘A message from the mine, Your Majesty.’
‘Oh?’ Concern struck him as it always did where work underground was concerned. This would mean a delay to his inspection of Tadj’s quarters, but the depths of the earth, like the deeps of the ocean, were unpredictable territory and inherently dangerous, and the safety of his staff was paramount.
‘Good news, Majesty.’
He relaxed. ‘Tell me...’
The officer could hardly contain his excitement. ‘The new seam of sapphires is almost ten times larger than first thought, Your Majesty.’
‘Good news, indeed!’
Returning to his study, he placed a call to congratulate his team. As he waited for the line to connect, his thoughts returned to the young woman on the dock. She’d be on board by now, with his security guard in attendance. No visitor would ever wander the Sapphire unattended again. After the tragedy under his brother’s rule, Khalid had vowed that he would never take a chance with another person’s life.
‘Ah, Jusef,’ he exclaimed as the line connected. He enjoyed an upbeat exchange with the manager of his mine, ending with the promise, ‘I’ll be home soon to celebrate with you.’
It was a good enough reason to postpone his search for a bride, and he left his study in the best of moods. A final glance through the window reminded him of the girl, and he smiled to think of her standing up to his guards, and getting her own way. That was no mean feat. His guards were ferocious.
There was just time to check the arrangements being made for Tadj, before taking a shower and preparing for the evening ahead. It would be a very different party from those his late brother had held on board the Sapphire, in that the people present would be interesting and stimulating company and there would be no wild excesses of any kind. Saif had been furious to have his pleasure curtailed, and had ordered Khalid off the Sapphire. Echoing the words of the girl’s mother, he’d accused Khalid of being a killjoy.
Better that than a killer, Khalid had always thought.
RETURNING TO THE Sapphire wasn’t as easy as Millie had imagined. Her heart had started thundering out of control the moment she’d set foot on deck. However many times she told herself that this was a rite of passage, and she must get through it, her body’s reaction was out of her control.
I’m not a teenager, finding my way and feeling awkward, but a successful woman, confident in my own skin.
She had silently chanted this mantra from the moment she’d entered the locked dock. The past couldn’t hurt her, if she didn’t allow it to. The emotional scars from that night hadn’t weakened her, they’d made her strong. Unfortunately, none of these self-administered reassurances helped to soothe her as she stepped onto the recently swabbed teak and all the memories came flooding back. Her throat dried when the guard beckoned her towards the impressive double doors leading into the interior of the vessel.
Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and walked in.
The first thing she noticed was the lack of a sickly-sweet smell. She hadn’t known what it was eight years ago, but now her best guess was cannabis. The air inside the vessel today was as clean and as fresh as the air outside. And there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen, let alone a carelessly stubbed out cigarette, or an empty bottle left to roll aimlessly about. There was certainly no jarring music, or cruel laughter, just the low, almost indiscernible hum of a well-maintained engine of the type Millie loved—
She jerked alert as the guard coughed to attract her attention. ‘Sorry to keep you,’ she said. ‘I was just getting my bearings.’
A steward was on hand to take charge of her oilskins and the wheeled trolley. Watching her oilskins disappear around a corner definitely gave her second thoughts. She wanted to call him back and return to the safety of the laundry.
Don’t be so ridiculous!
What about her determination that the past couldn’t hurt her? And the note she intended to leave for Sheikh Khalid, asking if he could make time to see her.
Where was he? she wondered. Somewhere on board? Somewhere close?
A ripple of awareness tracked down her spine. Her overactive imagination getting busy again, she concluded as the steward returned to her side. He suggested, and tactfully, she thought in view of the state of her trolley, that it might be an idea to unpack the laundry here.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise the wheels were quite so muddy.’ Or that they would leave such obvious tracks on the pristine floor. Not wanting to cause extra work for the crew, she was glad of the blue plastic overshoes the steward handed her.
She was sorry about everything, Millie thought, which was hardly the mind-set required to make the most of this opportunity. The steward might pass on a note to someone in authority who had contact with the Sheikh. And though Sheikh Khalid almost certainly wouldn’t agree to see her, she had to try.
‘I’ll help you unpack,’ the friendly steward offered.
The Sheikh’s staff seemed nice. She took some comfort from that. There were no stony faces—apart from his guards—and the atmosphere was different; very different, Millie thought as she introduced herself.
‘Joel,’ the steward replied with a friendly smile.
After a brief handshake they got to work, and the familiar actions of lifting the laundry from its nest reassured her. She knew what she was doing, and working side by side with Joel boosted her confidence. His uniform was very smart, and not at all intimidating, as she remembered the black-clad servants at that other party. Crisp and white, it was quite a contrast to her comfortable work clothes of jeans, a long-sleeved top and sneakers.
If it came to running for it, she was ready, Millie concluded dryly as she straightened up to announce she was ready to make up the bed. The guard would escort them, he said. Things had certainly changed since the free-for-all days of Sheikh Saif, she thought as they set off at a brisk walk with Millie like a sandwich filling between the two men.
Passing through another set of double doors, they entered a world of unimaginable luxury and calm. Or massive wealth and relentless control, depending on how you looked at it. Either she found some humour in this situation, or she’d lose her nerve and run. She couldn’t believe the last time she’d been here her mother was alive. It seemed so long ago. And now her senses were heightened to an unparalleled degree. She felt like a sponge, obliged to soak up everything, whether she wanted to or not. Though she had to admit that the vibrant works of art, tastefully displayed on neutral walls, were beautiful, as were the priceless artefacts housed in glass cases. She would have loved the chance to take a longer look at them. Glimpses into staterooms as they passed revealed one luxurious setting after another, but the walk was so long, she began to wonder if they would ever arrive at their destination. The Sapphire was bigger than she remembered, but then she had only seen the grand salon eight years ago.
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