Susan Stephens - In The Sheikh's Service

Her eyes briefly flared, but she had more sense than to take him on. She would not risk antagonising him, when visiting Q’Aqabi was everything she longed for, and had worked so hard to achieve.

‘What’s your answer, Isla?’

Lifting her chin, she met his stare candidly. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty. Yes. I will have dinner with you.’

CHAPTER FIVE

HE WAS JUST relaxing into victory, believing Isla had not only agreed to have dinner with him, but quite a lot more, when she added three crushing words: ‘But not tonight.’

‘When, then?’ he demanded curtly.

‘In Q’Aqabi,’ she said, delivering her final surprise. ‘I’ll have dinner with you in Q’Aqabi, when we have worthwhile things to share. I’d only bore you to death otherwise.’

Nothing could be further from the truth.

‘Your audacity in refusing the invitation of the man who has donated this prize you care so much about is—’

‘Breathtaking?’ she agreed, nodding her head. ‘Yes, I suppose it must seem that way, but, you see, this course means everything to me.’

‘So blackmailing me is your way of showing this?’

‘I’m just asking for a chance,’ she argued passionately. ‘I’m asking for a role in your project—a real role. I’m begging, actually. I can’t afford to be proud when this is all I’ve ever wanted. And I know I can help you. I’ve learned all the latest techniques, and I’m certain I can add value to your plans. I’m already excited—’

‘Aren’t you taking rather a lot for granted?’ he interrupted.

‘Am I?’

Despair showed in her eyes. He had no intention of withdrawing the prize. According to the vice chancellor, Isla had been an outstanding student, and he didn’t doubt she had a lot to offer. Her only downfall was that beneath that cool exterior, she was headstrong and passionate—

Wasn’t that what he liked about her?

Everything in his life was predictable and rigidly controlled—by him. Isla had turned everything on its head. And she had other admirable qualities. His most recent information said she had been forced to suspend her studies in order to nurse her sick mother, and when her mother died Isla had moved heaven and earth to find the money to get back on the course. She was undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, and in time might prove a real asset to his project. She would certainly be an asset in his bed.

He had never concluded a bargain quite like this before. Women wanted his money, his power and his influence. They wanted to share his bed. They wanted good sex and a trophy lover. Isla wanted his permission to work the hardest shift on earth in the desert alongside his veterinary rangers. For once in his life, he couldn’t be sure if she wanted that more than anything else, but he looked forward to finding out.

‘Perhaps you should listen to my terms before you get too excited,’ he suggested.

‘Your terms?’ She was instantly wary.

‘You will be going to the desert, which is not the place you imagine.’ When her face fell, he added, ‘It is far, far more beautiful. But it can also be a hellhole,’ he warned, his face growing grim as hers grew rapt. ‘Paradise one moment, it can be transformed in a matter of minutes into the most dangerous place on earth, and you, as an expert in your field, must learn the ways of the desert, and how to survive it.’

‘I’m up to it,’ she stated firmly.

‘You will be shown everything you need to know. If you don’t prove your worth, you will leave.’

‘Will you be there?’

He guessed she had spoken without thinking, as her cheeks were now burning red. But would he be in the desert? Would he retrace that reckless youth’s footsteps to the site of the tragedy?

‘Prove to me that you are the most willing and able of all my recruits, and you can stay on in Q’Aqabi and work with my other willing recruits,’ he said, moving past the question.

As she gulped convulsively, he guessed that Isla’s hidden fiery depths encouraged her to picture harems stuffed to the brim with his willing recruits. ‘You are the most promising of all the students here,’ he said, to put a balm on her vivid imagination, ‘or you wouldn’t be getting this chance. If your theoretical studies are matched by your practical application of them—’

‘Oh!’ she said before he even had chance to finish. ‘Thank you—thank you!’

It was as if all her tension had released at once, and as she took a step forward she looked for an instant as if she was going to fling her arms around him and hug him tight. Fortunately for them both, she curbed the impulse, and remained instead vibrating with excitement in front of him. Physical contact that wasn’t initiated by him was alien in the world he inhabited. He had never known affection as a child, having been brought up in a nursery of royal offspring from several wives. His brother had tried to make up for the lack of parental love by being more like a father to him, but his brother had been dead for many years.

He found himself relaxing, even smiling at Isla. Her unselfconscious show of gratitude had touched him more than he’d realised. It had also aroused him.

‘Please forgive me, Your Majesty—’

They both turned as the vice chancellor spoke. Shazim couldn’t be sure how long the party of academics had been back, but he guessed long enough to see Isla move as if to hug him, as his elderly host was staring at him with concern, no doubt wondering if she had breached royal protocol, and possibly damaged the excellent relationship between Q’Aqabi and the university.

‘I hesitate to remind you about our busy schedule,’ the vice chancellor ventured, anxiety ringing in his voice.

He quickly reassured the older man. ‘You’re quite right, Vice Chancellor, and I apologise for taking up so much of Ms Sinclair’s valuable time, but she has been a font of information, and a fascinating companion with a novel take on so many things.’

‘On that we are agreed,’ the vice chancellor told him warmly, his relief clearly visible.

Isla carefully avoided looking at him when the vice chancellor said this.

‘She has the highest marks ever recorded,’ the vice chancellor added in a conspiratorial stage whisper. ‘You couldn’t have anyone better on the team.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said mildly, raising his brow a fraction as he turned to look at Isla—who clearly wasn’t sure whether she should smile or remain expressionless beneath the barrage of praise, but at least she didn’t simper.

‘I won’t let you or the university down,’ she told them both with feeling.

‘I know you won’t, my dear. Your Majesty...’ Standing back to allow him to go first, the vice chancellor indicated that it was time for them to join the rest of the official party.

‘I’ll see you in Q’Aqabi, Ms Sinclair,’ he murmured.

His senses stirred as Isla lowered her gaze. When she bit her lip, he wondered if she was reflecting on what exactly she had just talked herself into.

* * *

She was in trouble and sinking fast, Isla reflected later, swirling a sweetener into the coffee on her desk. Not that she had changed her mind about going to Q’Aqabi. She’d worked her socks off to even get a sniff at the prize. Shazim’s offer of a possible job after her visit to his country was like all her best dreams coming true at once. And she would prove herself, whatever it took. Her only question was, could she work with him? Could she see Shazim every day, and not be distracted by thoughts that had no connection with the project that meant so much to both of them?

Look at it this way—you’re a newly qualified vet with grime beneath your fingernails, while Shazim is an all-powerful sheikh with more sex appeal than there are grains of sand in his desert.