Emma Darcy - Climax Of Passion

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Linda McQueen,

for her love of words and getting it right.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

XA SHIRAQ was notable for many things.

The impression that most people took away with them was of a penetrating gaze that seemed to strip souls bare.

His eyes were stygian black and deeply socketed. It was said they could see through any duplicity. They could burn with the heat of the desert or be as cold and cutting as the wind from the topmost peaks of the Atlas Mountains in the freezing heart of winter. They revealed nothing, yet they knew everything.

He had not inherited the Sheikhdom of Xabia. He had won the right to rule through the sheer force of his will and character. He retained and increased his power by not letting anything escape his notice. His vigilance over matters that others might regard as of little consequence, was legendary. Its effect was that Xa Shiraq was never surprised. He had no intention of ever being surprised.

‘Tell me about the geologist’s daughter,’ he commanded of Kozim, his closest aide.

‘No...o...o, ah...problem,’ came the habitual singsong reply.

A slicing flash of black eyes was enough for Kozim to clear his throat and bring forth a flurry of detail.

‘She is still at the hotel in Fisa, working front of house. She is in charge of reservations. There is a complaint lodged against her. She will not last.’

Xa Shiraq’s long, supple fingers tapped a thoughtful rhythm on the armrest of his chair. ‘Why did she take the position? Why has she stayed? With her qualifications she could have done better. It makes no sense unless my suspicion has substance. Each step... one step closer.’

‘She has applied for a transfer to Bejos,’ Kozim added as a possible point of interest.

‘Ah!’ It was the sound of satisfaction. ‘So the purpose reveals itself beyond all reasonable doubt. She is a woman of remarkable determination.’ He looked sharply at Kozim. ‘If application is made for entry to Xabia, it is to be refused.’

‘I will see to it immediately,’ Kozim said with fervour, hiding his surprise at such a leap in anticipation.

‘Never believe in coincidence, Kozim. Has the transfer to Bejos been granted?’

‘No, Your Excellency. It was blocked by the assistant manager at Fisa.’

‘For what reason?’

‘He claims unsuitability on the grounds that she is a striking blonde and may draw troublesome attention at the Bejos hotel.’ Kozim shrugged. ‘That is what he says officially.’

‘And unofficially?’ the sheikh prompted.

‘It is inferred that there are more personal reasons.’

The sheikh sat back, hooding his eyes. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the Fisa hotel one of the poorest performers in the Oasis chain?’

‘You are not wrong, Your Excellency,’ Kozim quickly assured him. ‘It has one of the lowest occupancy rates.’

‘There have been a number of complaints about the hotel,’ the sheikh said broodingly.

Kozim didn’t know of any. His ignorance did not disturb him. It was not unusual for him not to know what the sheikh knew. Xa Shiraq had many sources of information.

The fingers tapped again. ‘I will act. I can kill two birds with one arrow.’

Kozim had no idea what the sheikh meant, but he was glad he was not going to be on the receiving end of the arrow that would undoubtedly reach its targets with deadly accuracy. He was glad he had no connection whatsoever to the running of the Oasis Hotel at Fisa. He was glad he was not the geologist’s daughter.

AMANDA Buchanan thought she had developed a thick enough skin to withstand most of the put-down jokes that came her way. Normally, she let them flow past her like water off a duck’s back. After all, she had been born with three strikes against her. Her mother had been Polish, her father Irish, and she was a natural blonde.

The latest rash of ‘dumb blonde’ jokes was the most belittling she had so far encountered. It was almost enough to drive her into dying her hair black. Her stubborn sense of self-worth, however, would not countenance any backing off from who and what she was. Apart from which, it would give her snide detractors the satisfaction of knowing they had got to her.

One day, she vowed, she would make a lot of people eat their words. Not only on her own account, but on her father’s. Amanda wasn’t quite sure how she was going to achieve that end, but working for the Oasis chain of hotels had seemed a likely step in the right direction. What she needed to do was get into a high level management position which might...just might...open the door to where she wanted to go.

In the meantime, she had to grit her teeth and suffer the assistant manager’s malicious manner and spite in putting her down in every possible way he could conceive.

She knew why he did it. It was a payback for her lack of interest in him as a man. Charles Arnold combined a huge ego with small performance. His principal aim in life was to downgrade everybody to his own level so that he could feel superior. He had no idea how badly it reflected on himself and on his job.

If Amanda had been willing to accommodate him, his attitude and that of the male staff would have been very different. A shudder of revulsion ran through her at the mere thought of submitting to Charles Arnold’s touch. That was never going to happen, no matter what subtle or unsubtle pressure he brought to bear. As it was, the other staff took their lead from him, having their bit of ‘fun’ with her, knowing they were completely safe from any complaint of harassment.

There was only one person who could have fixed the situation for Amanda, and that was the vague, shadowy figure of Xa Shiraq, the owner of the Oasis chain. It was said that he held all the key decisions regarding personnel in his own hands. He was never around. He was never seen. There were doubts he really existed.

Amanda knew better. When her father lay dying in her arms, revealing what had happened in halting, stumbling words...it left no doubt in Amanda’s mind that Xa Shiraq existed.

This was the third Oasis Hotel Amanda had worked in. The mysterious owner had not once made an appearance at any of them. Promotions and sackings were done by impersonal faxes, never in person. Despite this lack of any substantial evidence of his actual presence, her father’s assurance and certainty had convinced Amanda that Xa Shiraq was indeed flesh and blood reality.

Her belief, however, was of no help to her in her present situation. It was difficult to keep her cool while she burned with the injustice of what was happening to her, but Amanda was determined not to put a foot wrong.

Soon, very soon, she hoped, her transfer to the Oasis Hotel in Bejos would come through. Then she would be one step closer to her real goal, one more step removed from her persecutors. Charles Arnold and his minions would then become so much flotsam that she could jettison from her life.

A telephone call claimed her attention. She lifted the receiver and projected a pleasant, welcoming note into her voice. ‘Good morning. The Oasis Hotel. Reservations.’

‘Is the Presidential Suite available tonight?’ a male voice inquired without preamble.