Woman in a Sheikh's World

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘Somehow that doesn’t sound like a compliment.’

  ‘A little less mystery would make things easier.’ His stallion danced impatiently and Mal released his grip on the reins slightly. ‘We should go back. You’ll burn in this sun.’

  ‘I won’t burn. You’re talking to someone with pale skin who has an addiction to sunscreen.’ But Avery turned back towards the Spa and urged her mare forward. ‘It’s stunning here. Beautiful. But I feel guilty. Do you know how much work I have waiting for me at home?’

  ‘You employ competent people. Delegate.’

  ‘I have to go back, Mal.’

  ‘We both know that your desire to go back has nothing to do with your workload and everything to do with the fact that you’re scared.’ With an enviable economy of movement that revealed his riding skill, he guided the sleek black stallion closer. ‘Tell me about your mother.’

  ‘Why this sudden obsession with my mother?’

  ‘Because when I have a challenge to face then I start by finding out the facts. Was it her work as a divorce lawyer that made her cynical about relationships, or was it being cynical about relationships that fuelled her choice of profession?’

  ‘She was always cynical.’

  ‘Not always, presumably, since she met and had a relationship with your father.’

  Despite the heat of the sun, her skin felt cold. Avery kept her eyes straight ahead, feeling slightly sick as she always did when that topic was raised. ‘Believe me, my mother was always cynical.’

  ‘That was why her relationship with your father failed?’

  She never talked about this. Never, not to anyone. Not even to her mother after that first occasion when she’d been told the shocking truth about her father.

  She’d stared at her mother, surrounded by the tattered remains of her beliefs and assumptions. And she could still remember the words she’d shouted. ‘That isn’t true. Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me you didn’t do that.’

  Witnessing the visible evidence of her daughter’s shock, her mother had simply shrugged. ‘Half the children in your class don’t have a father living at home with them. You don’t need a father at home or a man in your life. A woman can exist perfectly well by herself. I am living proof of that. Trust me, it’s better this way.’

  It hadn’t seemed better to Avery, who was at that age where every little difference from her peers seemed magnified a thousand times. ‘Those kids still see their dads.’

  ‘Poor them. I’ve spared you from the trauma of being shuttled between two rowing parents and growing up an emotional mess. Be grateful.’

  But Avery hadn’t been able to access gratitude. Right then, she would have swapped places with any one of the children in her class. Her mother wanted her to celebrate an absent father but Avery had wanted a father in her life, even if he turned out to be an eternal disappointment.

  She’d never again discussed it with her mother. Couldn’t bear even to think about the truth because thinking about it made it real and she didn’t want it to be real. At school she’d made up lies. She’d even started to believe some of them. Her dad was just away for a while—a successful businessman who travelled a lot. Her father adored her but he was working in the Far East and her mother’s job was in London. She’d stopped asking for affection from her mother, who was clearly incapable of providing it, and instead asked for money, the only currency her mother valued and understood. She’d used it to add credence to her lies. She produced presents that he’d sent from his trips. Fortunately, no one had ever found out the truth—that she’d bought all the presents herself from a small Japanese shop in Soho. That she’d never even met her father.

  And the lie had persisted into adulthood. Until somehow, here she was, a competent adult with the insecurities of childhood still hanging around her neck.

  She should probably just tell Mal the truth. But she’d guarded the lie for too long to expose it easily and it sat now, like a weight pressing down on her. ‘I don’t see my father. I’ve … never met my father.’

  ‘Does he even know you exist? Did she tell him about you?’

  They were surrounded by open space and yet she felt as if the desert were closing in on her. Avery tried to urge the mare forward into a canter but the animal refused to leave the side of the other horse, and Mal reached across and closed his hand over her reins, preventing her from riding off.

  ‘You’ve never tried to contact him?’

  ‘No. And he absolutely wouldn’t want to hear from me, I can tell you that.’ Once again she tried again to kick the mare into a canter, but the horse was stubbornly unresponsive, as if she realised that this was a conversation Avery needed to have and was somehow colluding with the Prince.

  And he obviously had no intention of dropping the subject. ‘Avery, no matter what the circumstances, a man would want to know that he had a child.’

  ‘Actually, no, there are circumstances when a man would not want to know that and this is one of them. Trust me on that.’ But she didn’t expect him to understand. Despite his wild years, or maybe because of them, he was a man who took his responsibilities seriously.

  ‘Whatever problems he and your mother had doesn’t mean that the two of you can’t form a bond. Your mother has turned you against him and I believe that often happens in acrimonious breakups, but their problems are not yours. He has a responsibility towards you.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t. I’m an adult.’

  ‘At least he might be able to shed light on what went wrong. He owes it to you to tell you his side of the story.’

  ‘I know his side of the story.’ Why, oh why, had she ever allowed this conversation to advance so far? ‘I’m happy as I am. I’m too old to adapt to having a dad in my life now. Oh look, more gazelle!’ Trying to distract him, she waved her arm but all that achieved was to scare the horses and almost land her on her bottom in the sand.

  Keeping his hand on her reins, Mal steadied both horses. ‘You are such an intelligent woman. I cannot understand why this issue affects you so badly. You are surrounded by evidence of good relationships. Why must you only focus on the bad?’

  Avery rubbed her hand over the mare’s soft coat. This she could talk about and maybe if she gave him this, he’d be satisfied and let the rest of it go. ‘My mother wasn’t what you’d call a hands-on mother.’ That had to be the understatement of the year. ‘She encouraged me to be independent, so pretty much the only time we met up was dinner in the evening. Five minutes were spent reviewing my grades, and after that she talked about her work, which basically meant that I listened to a million ways for a marriage to die. Every night my mother would talk about her day because she believed it was important that I understood exactly how a relationship could go wrong. I heard about the impact of affairs, job losses, gambling, alcoholism, addictions—lots of those in different subsections—I heard about the corrosive effects of lack of trust, about the impact of not listening … the list goes on.’ It had seeped into her, becoming part of her. ‘I was one of the few five-year-olds in the land who understood the legal definition of “unreasonable behaviour” before I’d even learned to add. Do you want me to carry on? Because I have endless experience, gathered from eighteen years of living at home.’

  ‘And did she ever describe any of the ways a successful relationship could work?’ There were layers of steel beneath his mild tone. ‘Did she ever talk about that?’

  Avery stared straight ahead, through her mare’s twitching ears.

  There was no sound except the metallic jingle of the bridles and the soft creak of leather.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘She never talked about that.’

  ‘Did you have boyfriends?’

  ‘Yes, but I never brought them home. She always believed that most of the factors that contributed to a breakup of a relationship could be easily predicted and she wouldn’t have hesitated to point them out.’

  ‘So you were trained to spot the potential pitfalls. You don’t enter a relationshi
p waiting for it to go right, but waiting for it to go wrong.’

  ‘I suppose so. But given that a significant proportion do go wrong, that’s not as mad as it sounds.’

  ‘It sounds like a shocking upbringing for the child of a single mother and it is no wonder you are so wary of relationships.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with being the child of a single mother.’

  ‘Agreed. But there is plenty wrong with a single mother who chooses to poison her daughter’s mind against men based on nothing but her own prejudices.’ The stallion shied at some imaginary threat, leaping sideways, nostrils flared. Mal sat firm, soothing the animal with firm hands and a gentle voice.

  It took him a moment to calm the animal, a moment during which she had plenty of time to dwell on the strength of his shoulders and the strength of him.

  Only when he’d calmed the stallion did he look at her again. ‘In my opinion she had a moral duty to bring you up with a balanced view of relationships, particularly given that you didn’t have an example of a positive one in your own household. You spent your formative years living alongside stories of couples at the most miserable point of their relationship.’

  ‘Yes.’ It was the first time she’d truly acknowledged the effect it had had on her. ‘I think that’s the reason I went into party planning. The end of a relationship was terrifying, but the beginning—that was exciting. I loved glittering events, the dressing up, the possibilities—’

  ‘Possibilities?’

  ‘Yes, so many possibilities, even if only for the short-term. I know that at my parties, people are happy. I make sure they’re happy, even if that is only transitory. Talking of which, I assume you want me to cancel arrangements for the wedding party?’ Her fingers were sweaty on the reins but she told herself it was just the heat.

  He stared at her for a long moment, thick lashes framing those eyes that made women lose their grip on reality. ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘You were the one who wanted to ride.’ He released her reins and urged the stallion forwards. ‘Let’s ride.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THEY made love in the still waters of their secluded pool under the warm glow of the setting sun. Afterwards, they dined overlooking the dunes, their private feast illuminated by flickering candles.

  They hadn’t spent enough time like this, he thought. The madness of their lives had interfered with their relationship. It had prevented the intimacy needed to develop trust.

  ‘You look beautiful in that dress.’ He topped up her glass with the chilled champagne he knew was her favourite.

  ‘I suppose you think you’re clever for producing it in the middle of the desert?’

  ‘Not clever, no. Fortunate. And not the wardrobe part, that was easy, but the fact that you are here to wear it.’ He’d never been so unsure of a relationship. Never so unsure of a woman. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d stay.’

  ‘The Crown Prince of Zubran not sure of someone or something? This must be a whole new experience.’ Her eyes teased him and he had to force himself to stay in his seat and not rush this. Timing was everything. And his timing had been wrong before.

  ‘It is a fairly new experience. And not one I’m enjoying.’

  ‘You know your problem?’ Glass in hand, she leaned forward, the movement accentuating the tempting dip between her breasts. ‘Life has been too easy for you. Your playboy past has spoiled you. You’ve had it easy.’

  ‘My father and my late uncle would agree with you, but you’d all be wrong.’

  She put her glass down and rested her chin on her palm, studying him across the table. ‘When has a woman ever said no to you?’

  ‘You did.’

  The humour in her eyes faded. The caution that was never far from the surface reappeared, and she sat up and dropped her hands into her lap. ‘You don’t like to be crossed. You like to get your own way. That’s probably what this is all about.’

  ‘That is not what is going on here and you know it.’

  ‘Have you ever had to work at a relationship with a woman?’

  ‘Is that a serious question?’ He heard the irony in his tone. ‘Because if it is, I think you already know the answer to that.’

  Her fingers slid slowly round the base of her glass. ‘You’re a complicated man, Mal.’

  ‘This from a woman renowned for keeping her relationships superficial.’

  ‘A sensible strategy. For some reason I didn’t apply it with you and look how that turned out.’

  ‘All relationships have rocky moments.’

  ‘Well, forgive me if I chose not to become another ship wrecked on your shores, Your Highness.’ Her tone was flippant but there was a bleakness in her eyes that tore at him and suddenly he knew he had to risk more if he was expecting that of her.

  ‘I’m sorry I hurt you. That was never my intention.’

  ‘I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.’

  ‘Better. I was so in love with you.’ Admitting it was hard, particularly as he’d been raised not to share his thoughts and feelings outside the family circle. But he wanted her to be his family and he knew if there was to be any hope of that, he had to give. ‘I’d never felt that way about a woman before. I’d never been in love. It scared me as much as it scared you because it changed everything. I wasn’t prepared for it.’

  Neither of them took any notice of the meal. The food remained untouched and forgotten on the table between them.

  ‘I know—’ her mouth flickered ‘—you needed a virgin princess.’

  ‘It was you I needed.’ His tone was raw. ‘You. From the first day I met you, in charge of that enormous event and yet so cool that I could have put ice on you and it wouldn’t have melted. I’d been careful, so careful, about choosing the women I spent time with.’

  ‘Your reputation suggests otherwise.’

  ‘My reputation only tells one part of the story.’

  She toyed with the stem of her glass. ‘Let’s face it, Mal, you wanted me because I wasn’t impressed by your rank or the size of your wallet. I was turned off by it because in the past I’ve found that men like you generally think they have a free pass when it comes to women. I said no. And you were arrogant enough to see me as a challenge.’

  ‘Arrogant? You saw that as arrogance? Yes, there were women—’ and he couldn’t even remember them now because next to her there was no one ‘—but there will always be women who are attracted by wealth and the opportunity to mingle with the famous and the influential, but that’s one single part of the life I lead. Then there is the other part—’ he paused because this degree of honesty was so alien to him ‘—the part that means your choices are rarely your own and the part that requires you to serve others while forfeiting your own wishes and invariably your privacy too. You want to trust people, so you do and then you make a mistake and you learn that trust is a luxury afforded to other people. It’s a hard lesson, but you learn to trust no one except your immediate family.’

  She was still now, the humour gone from her eyes as she listened. ‘Mal—’

  ‘You learn how it feels to go through life alone and because you are alone you are forced to develop confidence in your own decisions. And that isn’t easy. In the beginning you’re afraid that all those decisions are wrong.’ Remembering, he gave a humourless laugh. ‘You wait for the world to fall apart and for everyone to discover that just because you are a Prince doesn’t mean you know what you’re talking about. You want to ask advice, but you don’t dare because to display such a lack of confidence would be a political error. It’s back to trust again, and you remember that you can’t afford to do that. So you make the decisions alone and you make them with confidence and you learn not to question or hesitate because when you do, people lose faith in you. Is that arrogance?’ He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes, wondering if anything he’d said made any sense to her. ‘I see it more as a product of a lifetime of making decisions alone.’

 
She was silent for a moment. Then the corners of her mouth flickered. ‘Well, that’s put me in my place.’ Her tone was light but her expression was serious. ‘You never told me this.’

  ‘No. And I should have. When you and I argued, I was more myself than I have ever been in my life before. I found myself trusting you.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Suddenly I was contemplating something I’d always thought unobtainable. Sharing my life and my future with someone I could love and someone I knew could cope with the life I lead. For once what I wanted coincided with what my father wanted for me. I made the decision the way I’ve made every other decision. By myself. I told my father and he was supportive.’

  ‘You were sure of me.’

  ‘I was sure you loved me as much as I loved you, even though you hadn’t told me that. I was about to tell you how I felt and ask you to marry me—’ The memory came along with a rush of frustration. ‘I had the ring in my pocket on the night I met Richard and he taunted me. Implied that you and he—’

  ‘I have better taste in men than that.’

  ‘I know. I overreacted and it cost me the only relationship that would have worked for me.’

  ‘That wasn’t the reason.’ She eased her hand out of his and sat back in her chair. ‘I was raised to see marriage as something that damaged a relationship. Something that removed choice and meant nothing but personal sacrifice. Being with a man meant giving up part of yourself. I tried moving past that. Tried telling myself that it didn’t always happen that way and with you I’d begun to believe it—’ she stared at the bubbles rising in her glass and then back at him, her gaze frank and honest. ‘But then I took that call from Richard and instead of seeing it for what it was—a manipulative attempt to break us up—I chose to let it feed all my insecurities. You can find evidence for anything if you want to and I took this as evidence that our relationship couldn’t work. That you were taking over my life. Making decisions for me. You wanted me to give up my job. I was waiting for a reason to run, and he gave it to me.’