The Sheikh's Shock Child

by Susan Stephens

  ‘I’m sorry, Millie,’ he said softly.

  ‘Are you? Do you care?’

  ‘You won’t do anything silly when you leave here, will you?’ he said without answering her question.

  ‘Like my mother?’ she suggested.

  ‘Every story has more than one viewpoint,’ he observed.

  Lifting her chin, she gave it to him with both barrels. ‘In this instance, a viewpoint that’s convenient for you, and another that’s not so convenient?’

  His stare hardened again. ‘That’s your interpretation.’

  Maybe, but Millie’s vision encompassed the Sheikh striding back on board the Sapphire just before the royal limousine taking her home had turned a corner and she hadn’t been able to see him any more. She’d craned her neck for one last glimpse of the man in whom she’d placed her trust, believing he’d put everything right.

  ‘I’m sorry to rush you,’ that same man said now as he glanced at his state-of-the-art wristwatch. ‘I have another appointment.’

  Millie’s cheeks blazed red as she followed his glance to the door. ‘Of course.’ Time up. And what had she achieved? Precisely nothing.

  ‘I have a party to prepare for,’ he explained. ‘Why don’t you come back?’ he said, startling her with this suggestion. ‘I’ll make time to speak to you.’

  A party on board the Sapphire? Just the word was enough to invoke terrible memories and make her stomach churn with dread. ‘I won’t take up any more of your time,’ she said tensely, turning for the door.

  ‘But we’re not finished,’ he said. ‘If you come tonight we can talk.’

  Was he mad? Was she? Attend a party on board the Sapphire? Why was she even hesitating? Obviously, she had to say no.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘What time shall I arrive?’

  He shrugged. ‘Any time after eight. It’s a relaxed evening all across the ship. You might enjoy it.’

  She might not.

  ‘Until tonight,’ he said before she had chance to change her mind.

  ‘Until tonight,’ she echoed. Something made her turn at the door, hoping this was her last big mistake. Staring into the Sheikh’s knowing eyes was as dangerous as staring at the sun.

  * * *

  Dismissing his staff, he took the unusual step of personally escorting Millie off the ship. It was a reminder of why she was branded on his mind and always would be. The past had locked them together in a troubling set of memories, and in spite of his words to Millie, he was in no hurry to see her go. They took the stairs. Having the two of them confined in the cab of an elevator would be far too much too soon. However much he wanted to protect this new, older Millie, he wanted to seduce her more. They chatted politely about this and that as they walked through the Sapphire like two strangers who’d only just met. There wasn’t just one elephant in the room, but two. Sex and death were a potent combination, and all that was needed for him to see her again.

  ‘You’re happy living above the laundry?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she declared with a frowning, sideways look. And that was all she was going to say on that subject, he guessed, until they met later, when he was determined to find out more.

  ‘How do you know where I live?’ she asked.

  He cursed himself for his carelessness. ‘I presumed,’ he fudged.

  ‘The same way you know I’m studying engineering?’ she queried. ‘Should I be flattered by your interest, or accept that a man like you must know everything about people you meet?

  ‘Whichever,’ she added with a shrug. ‘I’ll just mention that you seem to have more insight into my life than I had expected.’

  * * *

  Was the Sheikh having her watched? Millie wondered. If so, why? And how long had it been going on? Did he think she knew something about that night—some fact or gossip, or perhaps a careless remark made by one of his crew when they were on shore?

  It was a relief to step out on deck. Being too close to a man like the Sheikh was unnerving. And exciting. It was as if she had been plugged into a power source. And that was dangerous, Millie concluded. No one with any sense played with fire.

  ‘I imagine your engineering skills must be very useful to Miss Francine,’ he remarked as they stood in that awkward moment before parting.

  Awkward for her, at least, Millie concluded. Once again, he seemed frighteningly composed. While her mind had just clicked into gear. ‘You remember the name of the laundry and its owner after all these years?’

  ‘Your trolley?’ he said, tamping down on a smile. ‘Until later, Millie.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured distractedly, already having second thoughts. There was something not right about this.

  ‘Don’t forget you’re coming back.’

  ‘How could I forget?’ she called back, subduing the brief spike of panic. She might not have achieved her goal to learn more about that night yet, but the Sheikh had given her a second chance. She had no idea what to expect at his party, but she wasn’t a teenager now and could handle it.

  What if the Sapphire slipped its moorings and sailed away?

  She’d reach for her mobile phone and call the coastguard. She wasn’t an impressionable teen, but a soon-to-be successful woman who decided her own fate.

  The security guard had brought her roll-along bag dockside and she followed him without a backward glance. But once outside the dock gates, she paused and turned, to see the Sheikh still on deck, watching her.

  ‘Until tonight,’ he called out, raising a relaxed hand.

  Decision time. Bottle out, or opt in. Her choice. ‘Until tonight,’ she yelled back.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THERE WAS UPROAR at the laundry when Millie got back. Everyone wanted to know why she’d been delayed. Miss Francine hovered anxiously while the younger women clustered around Millie with endless questions, outrageous suggestions, and raucous laughter, as well as enough racy jokes to fill the playbill at a comedy show for a week.

  Before she said anything, Millie brushed the hair out of her eyes and shed her oilskins. Hanging them up on the peg by the door, she grimaced. ‘I’m drenched.’

  ‘With passion?’ Lucy suggested, nudging her closest companion.

  For the sake of good humour, Millie adopted a mock aloof air. ‘I hardly think the Sheikh invited me back tonight so he can seduce me.’

  ‘He invited you back!’ Lucy shrieked with a meaningful look at their colleagues.

  ‘Out of politeness,’ Millie insisted, catching Miss Francine’s attention to reassure her with a look that Millie was okay with this comedy sketch. ‘Something about making up the numbers,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘At the ruler of Khalifa’s party?’ Lucy exclaimed with obvious disbelief. ‘You don’t expect us to believe he left something like that to chance, do you?’ she demanded with an eye roll.

  ‘I’m just not seduction material,’ Millie insisted, turning serious. At least that much was true. Her mother’s looks might have been ravished by pain and abuse, but Roxy Dillinger had always been beautiful, while Millie made the best of what she’d got, which wasn’t much. But what she lacked in kerb appeal, she tried to make up for with zest for life.

  A barrage of questions about her time on the Sapphire hit her from every side. What was the Sheikh like? What was it like on a billionaire sheikh’s superyacht? Editing heavily, Millie gave as full an account as she could.

  ‘Why you Millie?’ Lucy demanded in a teasing tone. ‘What have you got that the rest of us lack?’

  ‘The rest of you have got too much work to do, to be gossiping like this,’ Miss Francine insisted above a chorus of groans. ‘We’ll have our own party when the work’s completed,’ she promised to a second chorus, this time of cheers.

  ‘I’d rather be Millie,’ Lucy called out cheerfully as she got back to her work.

&
nbsp; Everyone took the hint and got their heads down, though Millie still had to field a whole host of questions, as well as the teasing remarks of her co-workers, but it had the good effect of making time fly. Good for everyone, Millie concluded, but herself, as, before she knew it, work ended and she had to get ready for the party. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so brave.

  Don’t be such a wuss, she told herself impatiently as she ran up the stairs to her cosy bedsit. She had no excuse not to know how fast things could change from hope to tragedy. She had to seize the moment and make the most of it.

  Relax. Chill, Millie mused, eyes tightly shut as she stood beneath the shower. If she didn’t take this chance to find out the truth about that night, she’d spend the rest of her life wishing she had.

  What to wear to a billionaire’s party when you wanted to blend into the crowd? That was the burning question. Millie should have asked about the dress code, she realised now. Sheikh Khalid had mentioned something about a casual evening. Good. Casual she could do. An apprentice engineer had more overalls in her closet than frocks, but she did have one nice dress.

  It was red, which was unfortunate. Would it make her stand out too much? She didn’t want to look as if she’d tried too hard. She’d bought it in the sales, thinking it perfect for the next Christmas party. At least it was an unfussy style, just a simple column of bright red silk. Having made her decision, she hung the dress on the back of the door.

  Hair up or down? She’d tie it back, Millie decided. Tossing her long, honey-gold hair for effect wasn’t her style. Having trialled a few different looks, she settled on her customary messy up-do. She’d got the knack of arranging that now, but she swopped out the infamous pencil for a simple mock tortoiseshell clip.

  Shoes?

  Wearing high heels on a ship grated, somehow. She compromised with a strappy flat.

  Underwear. She rootled through her drawer. Sensible big knickers, obviously...

  So why was she holding a flimsy thong?

  Who was going to see what she wore? No one. So she settled for the thong. It wouldn’t show any lines beneath the dress.

  As she got ready she kept on glancing out of the window to where the Sapphire was berthed and blazing with light. When she’d finished she leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to blot out that other party and replace it with the new. If she didn’t, she’d never have the courage to step back on board the Sapphire.

  Music from the superyacht wafted over the marina and into Millie’s bedroom. It was tasteful, tuneful music. She’d be all right. She had to be. No one could pick up the pieces. She had to do that for herself, and owed it to her mother to move forward, which was exactly what she intended to do.

  Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time, she declared, ‘No problem. I’m ready to enter the lion’s den.’

  * * *

  Khalid frowned as he paced the deck. The band was playing, and his stewards were putting the final touches to place settings as his guests began to arrive, but there was no sign of Millie. He wanted to see her. They had a lot to discuss.

  Discuss?

  All right, he snarled at his moral compass director, but she’d be here. She wouldn’t be able to resist what might be her last chance to question him, and, if the temptation to interrogate him wasn’t enough, he had to trust that the same primal energy drove both of them, and that was an irresistible force.

  An eclectic mix of specialists from the arts, sciences, and the charities he supported, as well as tech kings and a few fellow royals, had gathered on the deck below his quarters. It was an interesting crowd. He was keen for her to see the changes his rule had brought about. It had always been important for him to draw a clean line between the way his brother Saif had ruled, and his own very different approach. Had he mentioned the dress code for her evening would be casual? He couldn’t believe he was worrying about something so trivial, but he wanted Millie to fit in and relax, and if she arrived in a ball gown—She wouldn’t arrive in a ball gown. She had more sense. There was more risk she’d arrive straight from work in a boiler suit smeared with oil.

  ‘Your Majesty seems particularly distracted tonight—’

  ‘Tadj!’ He whirled around to greet his friend. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t see you and your companion arrive. Good evening, Ms...?’

  ‘Lucy Gillingham, Your Majesty. I work at Miss Francine’s with Millie.’

  ‘No need to curtsey,’ he said, raising Lucy to her feet with a smile. ‘Welcome on board the Sapphire.’

  ‘It must be a very beautiful woman to distract you to this extent,’ Tadj teased him discreetly. ‘May I ask who she is?’

  ‘No. You may not,’ he told Tadj. ‘Your reputation goes before you, my friend.’ He had no intention of sharing his interest in Millie with a man known as the Wolf of the Desert for a very good reason.

  ‘The party’s already a success,’ Tadj observed, glancing down to where the good-natured throng was mingling easily.

  ‘Seems so,’ Khalid agreed, scanning the crowd for Millie. ‘Excuse me—I can see some more guests arriving—’

  ‘A very beautiful woman,’ Tadj called after him with amusement, no doubt having spotted where Khalid was heading.

  Millie was trying to find her way through the crowd jostling around his stewards as they offered his guests a welcoming flute of champagne. She looked sensational in a slender column of bright red silk. The crowd parted for him, so he quickly reached her side. ‘You decided to come?’ he remarked.

  Running her eyes over him from top to toe, she looked up and smiled. ‘It appears so, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Have you been practising?’ he asked with amusement as she attempted to bob a curtsey.

  ‘Only as much as you’ve been working on your boilers today,’ she countered, directing this into his eyes as she straightened up. ‘Actually, I’d love to see the engine room.’

  ‘Another time,’ he said.

  ‘You’re inviting me back?’ she challenged with amusement. ‘I would have thought you’d seen enough of me by now.’

  ‘By the end of the evening, I probably will have done,’ he replied in the closest to humour he intended to come. In truth, he couldn’t wait to get away from her. She was affecting him like no aphrodisiac known to man.

  ‘I imagined you’d be leaving soon?’ she said, clearly unaware of his physical discomfort.

  A flowing robe would have been more accommodating than designer jeans, he acknowledged, masking his discomfort. ‘And so I shall. My work is done,’ he confirmed, sounding harsher than he’d intended, but the need to rearrange himself was becoming more pressing by the moment.

  * * *

  I will not allow myself to be distracted by a pair of knowing black eyes, Millie determined. And if Khalid thought he could just walk away from her, he was wrong. ‘I find older vessels fascinating,’ she said, determined to keep him in front of her. ‘So much experience under their belt.’

  He actually groaned as if he were in pain. ‘I hope you’re not referring to me?’

  His voice sounded strangled, but if that was an attempt at humour, it saved him. He might actually be human. ‘I hardly think so, Your Majesty.’

  People were watching them with interest, she noticed. Gossip would spread quickly on the marina. The ruler of Khalifa and a local laundress, chatting together like old friends. She didn’t care, but did he? And if he did care, he might bring this to an end at any moment, before they had chance to arrange that private talk. ‘You invited me here to talk,’ she said. ‘When can we do that?’

  ‘I need time with my guests. At least an hour.’

  ‘Of course,’ Millie agreed promptly. ‘And my apologies if I’m keeping you.’

  ‘I choose to talk to you.’

  And when you no longer choose to do so, you’ll move on, she thought. Determined to pin him down, she confirm
ed, ‘An hour. Where?’

  ‘I’ll send someone to find you.’

  ‘Do you delegate everything to someone else?’

  The words just popped out of her mouth, and there was a moment when she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, ‘Not all things, Ms Dillinger.’

  And now she really, really wished she hadn’t asked the question, as the expression in the Sheikh’s eyes took hold of every nerve-ending in her body and rattled it until it squeaked.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said on a dry throat. ‘I’m happy people-watching, just so long as we have that promised talk.’

  ‘I won’t forget,’ he said in a way that left her in no doubt that he meant it.

  ‘Okay.’ She shrugged and smiled politely as he left.

  * * *

  That shrug. That smile.

  Millie’s wildflower scent taunted his senses as he walked away.

  It stayed with him—she stayed with him as he met and chatted to his guests. To a casual observer, the ruler of Khalifa had been exchanging small talk with a beautiful local woman who had happened to catch his attention. There was nothing unusual about that. On the surface, maybe, but beneath the apparent calm there was a lot more going on, like a fault line in the ocean with a volcano simmering underneath.

  * * *

  She needed a lot more time to relax on the Sapphire. Being back here was upsetting, and disturbing, Millie thought as Sheikh Khalid walked away. Needing something to take her mind off the past, she began to circulate and introduce herself around. She might have worried that she was walking in her mother’s footsteps, if the guests at this party hadn’t been so very different from those of eight years ago. Millie gave no explanations and none were needed, other than the fact that she lived locally, as the Sheikh was a generous host and had invited people from all walks of life. His guests were so open and pleasant that for a while she lost herself in conversation, but revisiting the place where she’d last seen her mother alive had affected her more than she’d thought.