The Sheikh's Shock Child

by Susan Stephens

  Inexperience had let her down, and now Khalid was giving her an out. Perversely, she didn’t want that. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted more of his time, and more of his touches. More of him. A spear of jealousy so real she actually gasped with pain pierced her at the thought of all the women he must have known; women who’d felt his hands on their bodies, and who had seen that same desire in his eyes.

  ‘I suppose your score card’s off the scale,’ she commented spikily on the back of this thought.

  His hard face softened into laughter. ‘I’m not so bad.’ He paused a moment, and then admitted wryly, ‘I’m worse.’

  ‘And shameless.’ But there was no venom in her comment, only a growing fondness, which was dangerous; she had no doubt the Sheikh was as shrewd in his dealings with women as he was in every other area of his life. ‘So, what is your score?’ she pressed, bracing herself for the answer.

  ‘Sheikh undefeated,’ he said.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MILLIE SAT ALONE in the suite, waiting for Khalid to return from attending to his remaining party guests, her body still thrumming from his expert touch. She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, before glancing at the time on her phone. It was getting late—surely Khalid had seen everyone he needed to see by now?

  She was on the point of going to find Khalid at the party when there was a discreet tap on the door. When she opened it, a young maid called Sadie introduced herself. ‘His Majesty’s PA sent me to direct you to the Pig and Whistle,’ Sadie explained.

  For a moment, Millie was confused. ‘His Majesty’s PA sent you? The Pig and Whistle?’ she queried, feeling like a fool as she shook her head.

  ‘The Pig and Whistle is what we call the staff mess,’ Sadie explained chirpily in a way that immediately endeared her to Millie. ‘It’s where we hold our parties, and I’m having one tonight.’

  ‘Your party?’ Millie queried.

  ‘Well, it’s not my party, exactly,’ Sadie excused. ‘It’s a tradition on the Sapphire that when His Majesty holds a party the staff that prepared everything for his guests, but who aren’t required during the actual event, are allowed to celebrate too. To be honest, we don’t need much encouragement,’ Sadie confided with a grin. ‘It’s fantastic working on the Sapphire. It’s such a great crowd.’

  But now Millie was worried. Would Khalid find the time to talk to her? He seemed to be passing her on to somebody else. So was that kiss a real kiss, or a power play? She didn’t have enough experience to work it out. And Sadie was waiting for her answer. ‘I’d love to come along,’ she said honestly. Sadie seemed fun. Being invited to the crew party was a hell of a lot better than hanging around on her own, waiting to see if His Majesty could spare the time to talk to her.

  ‘You’ll love it. I promise,’ Sadie said as she opened the door. ‘There’s always loads of good food and fun, and lots of dancing.’

  Curious about the next adventure, Millie followed the young maid out of the room.

  * * *

  Where was she? Khalid had expected Millie to seek him out well before the party for his guests had ended, but now the night was drawing to a close and shortly his guests would be leaving. He had checked with his guards, but there was no report of Millie leaving the ship. A bolt of dread had run through him as he alerted his head of security to a potential problem.

  It couldn’t happen again.

  A second tragedy on board the Sapphire was unthinkable.

  Involving Millie?

  ‘I want every inch of this vessel searched,’ he commanded his guards as they lined up in front of him.

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ they chanted as one, before separating and spreading out across the ship.

  Nothing must happen to her, he determined fiercely as he joined the search.

  * * *

  She’d lost track of time, Millie realised. Her stomach clenched as she glanced at her watch. She hadn’t had so much fun for ages. The Sapphire’s crew came from all over the world, and there was a strong Irish contingent with music and fun and laughter in their blood. The party in the Pig and Whistle had turned into such a riot she’d been up on the table dancing with Sadie for the past half-hour—

  Two things happened in quick succession. One of the men swung Sadie into his arms and carried her away, leaving Millie dancing solo, then everyone else turned to stare at the door.

  Oh, no!

  As if a bagpipe had deflated, the music died to a tuneless hum. Khalid was standing in the doorway. Tall. Dominating. Stern. He was the dark angel from her past, come to wreak vengeance on a woman who had taken a giant leap over the traces. That would be the same woman with burning cheeks and tangled honey-blonde hair, with her skirt lifted high, and a very silly smile on her face.

  A smile that just as quickly died.

  ‘Please carry on,’ the Sheikh invited as he ducked his head to join them in the crew quarters. ‘Please,’ he said, turning to address the musicians. ‘Play on.’

  The fiddler, a guitarist, and a banjo player soon started up again, and the drummer plied his beater on the Irish drum, the Bodhrán, and by the time the traditional flute had joined in it was as if there had been no interruption to the party.

  ‘I’m sorry I—’

  She got no further before Khalid demanded in an icy tone, ‘Why are you still here?’

  ‘We’ve still to speak—Your PA—’

  ‘My PA was instructed to mention the party in the Pig and Whistle so you could get some food. You didn’t have the chance to dine before you left my ship the first time tonight, and I thought you might be hungry. I didn’t expect you to stay here all night. You should have found some way to tell me where you were, or have you so easily forgotten the risks on a big ship? I’ve had guards scouring the Sapphire for you.’

  Millie bided her time until the door had closed behind them and they were alone in the corridor. ‘I haven’t forgotten the risks, and I’m sorry if I’ve put you and your guards to such trouble, but I understood we were to talk further. I waited and waited in your suite for you to return and then Sadie knocked on the door, inviting me to come here, at your behest, I’d imagined. Maybe I was mistaken, but would you have preferred me to have hung around on the deck for hours, waiting for a signal from you that it was convenient for us to talk?’

  He stared down at her with no expression on his face at all, and then he queried softly, ‘Dance?’ Opening the door to the party, he stood aside to let her pass.

  Millie frowned. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Never more so,’ he confirmed. ‘Well?’

  She was still shell-shocked, both by the sudden appearance of Khalid, and by his offer. She suddenly became acutely aware that her lips were still burning from his earlier kisses, which made the decision to go or stay one hell of a lot more significant than it might have been. ‘I’d like that,’ she said.

  Sheikh Khalid drew her through the throng and, springing up on the table, he lifted her and steadied her in front of him. The noise had reached fever pitch by this time, making it seem that they were in the middle of some primitive rite, with a dark angel and a virgin in the middle of it. And while some men might have looked foolish dancing on a table, as in everything else he did, Khalid was a natural.

  Space restriction forced him to keep her pressed hard against his body. ‘I won’t let you fall,’ he promised.

  ‘You’d better not,’ she warned.

  She felt safe. Even all the history behind them didn’t seem to matter. It was hot and steamy in the Pig and Whistle, and the noise was drumming at her head, but it couldn’t come between them. They were so closely linked, both physically and mentally, that even here in this crowded space it was as if just the two of them were dancing with no onlookers at all.

  ‘Enough?’ he asked when finally she begged for mercy.

  ‘I’m too dizzy to walk,’ she prot
ested, staggering as he sprang down from the table.

  Reaching up, he brought her safe into his arms.

  ‘Put me down! I feel embarrassed.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ he said. ‘No one’s watching. No one cares.’

  Everyone cares, Millie thought as the smiling crowd parted to let them through when Sheikh Khalid carried her to the door. It was only natural that they were intrigued. His Majesty and the laundress dancing in the Pig and Whistle? What wasn’t cool about that?

  When the door closed behind them a second time, Khalid lowered Millie to her feet and stared down at her. ‘Are we going to talk?’ she asked. ‘I guess you need to say goodnight to your guests first, and I’m happy to wait,’ she said, thinking it was the least she could do. ‘And then I really must get back,’ she added to fill the silence when he didn’t speak. ‘It’s getting late.’

  ‘Did you plan to swim back?’

  ‘What? I... I’m sorry...?’ Millie stared up in utter amazement. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just that the Sapphire’s been underway for over an hour.’

  She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say, Millie concluded. She was a stowaway on the Sheikh’s yacht? What protection did that give her?

  What had she done?

  She wracked her brains for a solution, but there was none. She was stranded at sea with the Sheikh. ‘What about your guests?’

  ‘They disembarked some time ago.’

  ‘So, we’re heading to...?’ She wracked her brains for the closest port to King’s Dock on the south coast of England.

  ‘For Khalifa,’ he said, as if that were obvious.

  ‘Khalifa?’ Millie gasped. ‘Halfway around the world?’

  She was stunned when he confirmed this. Now she was standing still, she could feel the vibration of the ship’s engines beneath her feet and hear the faint hum. ‘Couldn’t you drop me off somewhere?’ she asked, knowing she was clutching at straws.

  ‘This isn’t a bus, Ms Dillinger.’

  ‘Of course not, I mean...’ For once in her neatly organised life, Millie didn’t have a clue what to do next. ‘Miss Francine will be worried,’ was all she could come up with.

  ‘You can call her,’ the Sheikh advised.

  It was too late; Miss Francine would be in bed.

  Bed.

  The single word ricocheted around Millie’s head. Where was she going to sleep? The thought of spending the night—maybe many nights—on board the Sapphire was unnerving, to say the least.

  ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had something to eat,’ Khalid predicted.

  ‘I doubt that somehow,’ she said, but her stomach grumbled on cue.

  ‘You’ll eat with me,’ he said, leading the way down the corridor.

  With little choice, she followed him to the grand salon, where it was hardly possible to imagine that a party had taken place. Everything had been cleared away and calm order restored in the magnificent room.

  She stared blankly at the phone as he handed it to her. ‘Miss Francine,’ he prompted, shaking her out of the trance. ‘Make your call and leave a message if she isn’t up. While you do that, I’ll arrange for refreshments.’

  Miss Francine was not only awake, Millie discovered, but both thrilled and amused to hear from her charge. ‘Make the most of it,’ she said to Millie’s amazement.

  ‘But I’m alone with him,’ Millie exclaimed discreetly with a glance at the Sheikh.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Miss Francine enthused. ‘A world of women will envy you.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Millie asked in the same hushed tone.

  ‘Just that life is full of choices, and you haven’t gone wrong so far, Millie Dillinger.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence in me,’ Millie admitted. ‘When I boarded the Sapphire, I seemed to leave my common sense on shore.’

  ‘That’s your opinion,’ Miss Francine said firmly. ‘It won’t hurt you to unplug for a while, and it might do you a lot of good.’

  By the time Millie ended the call, she felt that, if she hadn’t exactly been given a licence to maybe break a few boundaries, she did have the confidence of someone she trusted implicitly.

  A knock on the door heralded the arrival of stewards bearing platters of delicious-looking food. ‘I can’t eat all this,’ Millie protested as they laid it out on the table.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m here to help,’ Khalid assured her.

  He took hold of a plate and handed it to her, but when she gripped it he held onto the other side so they were joined by a fragile china bridge. ‘I’m not—’

  ‘Hungry?’ he suggested. When her cheeks flamed red, he added softly, ‘Or do you feel guilty about being a stowaway on my ship?’

  ‘I thought I was your guest?’ Should his stern look be sending her pulse off the scale?

  ‘My guests have all left,’ he reminded her. ‘All except one. Don’t look so worried. There’s no charge for this cruise.’

  And at least they’d get the chance to talk, Millie thought as he urged, ‘Eat. You need to keep up your strength.’

  For what reason? she wondered. ‘Are you sure the Sapphire won’t be docking at a closer port than Khalifa?’ Her badly rattled nerves were clamouring for a solution.

  ‘Enjoy the trip,’ Sheikh Khalid recommended as he helped himself to food. ‘I’ll arrange for a private jet to fly you home when we’re done.’

  ‘When we’re done?’ Millie queried hoarsely. ‘I can’t just disappear off the grid. I’ve got a college course to complete.’ And a world of ugly memories to move past.

  ‘You’re on holiday from college,’ the Sheikh observed.

  She was no longer surprised by what he knew, only that he cared enough to find out.

  ‘And as I said, I will place a private jet at your disposal. You can leave Khalifa whenever you choose.’

  ‘I’d rather take a commercial flight, thank you.’ She had no intention of putting herself in the Sheikh’s debt. ‘And if you can let me off at a closer port, that would be even better.’

  ‘Your virtue is quite safe with me,’ he said.

  Was he mocking her? She couldn’t really see his eyes. His face was turned away from her.

  ‘You can have the guest suite, and the golden sheets,’ he added.

  Huzzah, thought Millie, grimacing.

  He turned in time to see her expression. ‘My friend Tadj has been detained on shore by your friend Lucy.’

  This was getting worse and worse. Now she had to worry about Lucy.

  Lucy could look after herself, Millie reminded herself. She was facing a more immediate problem. ‘I don’t even have a change of clothes.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ the Sheikh told her. ‘Your closet is full.’

  ‘You planned this?’ she exclaimed with outrage.

  Throwing up his hands in mock alarm, he gave a lazy shrug. ‘Designers from across the world have rushed to accommodate you.’

  ‘And you expect me to be grateful?’ she said. ‘I feel as if I’ve been manipulated all along.’

  ‘Touché, Ms Dillinger. Not much escapes you.’

  ‘You admit it?’ Millie exclaimed with incredulity.

  The Sheikh didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘What use is massive wealth if it can’t be enjoyed? London is a rich source of luxury goods, and only a short hop by helicopter from King’s Dock.’

  ‘I’m going to my room.’

  ‘Please do,’ he invited with a gracious gesture towards the door. ‘I’m sure you won’t be disappointed with what you find there. Just don’t forget to come back and tell me what you think. And then we’ll talk,’ he promised with velvet charm.

  Infuriating man! Just as he’d said, the fitted dressing room leading off the gilded stateroom was packed full of Milan’s finest clothe
s, Spain’s softest leather shoes, and the best of New York’s cutting-edge accessories...

  And if that didn’t prove to be enough to persuade Millie Dillinger to relax and unwind, Khalid thought as he waited to hear Millie’s verdict, he would just have to think of something else. He was no saint, and had never pretended to be. Protecting Millie, versus seducing her, had long since passed its tipping point. She was no longer a child, but a hot-blooded woman, and there was a long ocean voyage ahead of them.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN THE FOOD was cleared away and Millie had returned—acting cool, but still with the glow of pleasing discoveries reflected in her eyes—he persuaded her to walk out on the deck, where a sophisticated heating system ensured she wouldn’t be cold this far north, and subdued lighting permitted views of the night sky, as well as a wide swathe of restless sea.

  ‘I’d be happy in the staff quarters,’ she assured him as she leaned over the rail...still looking, still searching for the truth, he thought. ‘Save the guest suite for someone who appreciates golden sheets,’ she said, pulling back as a steward drew out a chair.

  ‘Relax. Enjoy yourself. Sit down,’ he encouraged. ‘There’s nowhere else to go.’

  She angled her chin to stare up at him. ‘It isn’t easy to relax,’ she admitted.

  ‘I know,’ he said quietly.

  * * *

  She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. She had to stop. But how, when she only had to press her lips together to find they were still swollen from his kisses?

  ‘Don’t you want to experience something more exciting than a bunk bed dressed with white cotton for the duration of this trip?’ he asked, distracting her.

  ‘If that’s your opening gambit, I’m disappointed.’ Liar, Millie thought as her pulse careered out of control.

  ‘And I took you for an ambitious woman, Millie Dillinger.’

  ‘I am,’ she confirmed, ‘but I’ll get ahead on my own merit, thank you.’

  The Sheikh smiled faintly. ‘So no golden sheets?’