The Sheikh

by Anne Herries

  “Let me stay with you a little longer.

  “I do so want to know you better.”

  “Do you, Chloe?” His dark eyes were intent, his mouth somehow softer than usual. His voice was making her feel odd. “That is good, for it is what I want also.”

  Pasha gave her a hungry look that made her tremble. She remembered the magic of that dance on board ship, and for the first time began to understand what she had discovered in his arms. This was the passion she had seen portrayed on the movie screen—but for real! A feeling of intense excitement mixed with a hint of danger ran through her. This was real! She was beneath desert stars with her own sheikh and he was about to kiss her….

  The Sheikh

  Anne Herries

  ANNE HERRIES

  lives in Cambridge, but spends part of the winter in Spain, where she and her husband stay in a pretty resort nestled amid the hills that run from Malaga to Gibraltar. Gazing over a sparkling blue ocean, watching the sunbeams dance like silver confetti on the restless waves, Anne loves to dream up her stories of laughter, tears and romantic lovers. She is the author of over thirty published novels.

  Contents

  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

  Afterword

  Chapter One

  ‘So that’s my news,’ Chloe said, trying hard not to show her excitement too much. ‘I’m off to Morocco next week, and I don’t know when I shall be back…’

  ‘You are so lucky!’ Justine cried as she stared enviously at her cousin. ‘All I’ve managed to find is a job at the local library—and that’s after years at college.’ She pouted her rouged mouth at Chloe and adopted what she fondly thought of as an artistic pose.

  Chloe Randall tried to look suitably sympathetic as Justine bemoaned her lack of success in finding a really exciting job, but her mouth wouldn’t stop smiling.

  She had a soft, pretty mouth, which was free of the lip rouge her cousin liked to wear, and her straight, fair, collar-length hair was worn brushed back from her face and held in place by a scarf. Justine’s hair had been cut recently into a style favoured by some of the stars of the silent screen, and was short at the back with longer sides. She was also very daringly wearing red lipstick!

  They both looked what they were, young girls of good family emerging from the restrictions of their education and beginning to flex their wings in the sun of freedom like little butterflies. It was 1925, the terrible war that had blighted the lives of the generation before them seemed almost a distant memory, and life appeared made for having fun and enjoying oneself.

  ‘It was sheer luck,’ Chloe said for perhaps the tenth time that evening, and got up to wind the gramophone once more and play her favourite recording of Paul Robeson one last time. ‘I do love this. It was wonderful actually seeing him on stage when Daddy took me.’

  ‘Oh, don’t play it again yet,’ Justine begged. ‘I’ve got a new jazz record I want to put on in a minute. Sit down and talk to me. Tell me about what happened—how you came to meet this professor…’

  ‘As I was saying, it was luck.’ Chloe left the gramophone and sat cross-legged on the floor on a pile of ‘harem cushions’, which were another one of Justine’s fads and popular just at the moment with all the Bright Young Things. ‘I happened to be in the research department of the museum when he came in. He was carrying an umbrella, several parcels and a bag of oranges. The paper was wet because it had been raining hard, and his oranges went all over the floor.’

  Justine giggled as she pictured the scene. Although she tried very hard to be sophisticated, she was still an innocent at heart, a little starstruck, which came of going to the cinema as much as she possibly could, and being thoroughly spoiled by her indulgent and wealthy parents.

  In that she was luckier than Chloe, who had lost her mother to a painful illness while she was away at school, and whose father always seemed rather a cold man to Justine, though she would never have voiced her thoughts aloud out of loyalty to her cousin.

  ‘What did you say his name was—the professor?’

  ‘Hicks—Charles Hicks,’ Chloe said and flicked a stray wisp of hair from her eyes. ‘The thing is, I helped pick up his oranges and naturally we got talking—and it appears that he knew my father from way back. Apparently, he was at my christening but lost touch with Daddy when he went out to Egypt soon after that. Naturally, I invited him to dinner…’

  ‘And that’s when he asked you if you would like to accompany him on a trip to Morocco.’ Justine stared at her with a mixture of envy and disbelief.

  ‘To help with some research,’ Chloe agreed, her mouth refusing to stay in a straight line. ‘Just now, he’s working on a book about various nomadic tribes—particularly the Bedouin and Berber peoples. He has already done most of his research on the Bedouins, who inhabit much of northern Africa, and now he wants to do a study of the Berbers—so that he can compare them, apparently. He’s also interested in the religious customs and intends to visit a lot of places considered holy—if he can get permission, that is. It’s all very clever and beyond me, but interesting, don’t you think?’

  She laughed as she saw Justine’s blank look. Obviously her cousin didn’t agree, but then Justine’s interests were mostly clothes, dancing, and going to the cinema, as were most young women’s these days.

  ‘When Daddy told him that I was interested in Arabic literature, he thought I would be the ideal person to help—especially as I took shorthand as one of my skills.’

  ‘You jumped at the chance, of course.’ Justine sighed. ‘I wish I could find someone to give me a free holiday abroad.’

  ‘I wish you could come with us,’ Chloe said regretfully. ‘But Professor Hicks is paying all my expenses so I can’t very well ask if my cousin can come too. I doubt if he really needs help with his research at all, but Daddy told him I’d just finished college and was looking for work while I did my own research. He was quite impressed with my ambition—that’s how he put it. Something about admiring a girl who wasn’t prepared to settle for marriage straight away.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s what most of us do—get married and have babies,’ Justine said with some regret. ‘You’re the exception, Chloe. I went to college because my father wanted me to, and you were already there so it was fun. But Mummy expects me to do the season, and I expect I’ll get engaged—if I can find someone who looks like him…’

  Justine reached for a copy of the magazine she had discovered at the library that morning. It had a full-page picture of the actor Rudolph Valentino inside and was advertising his latest film.

  ‘We must see this before you go away,’ Justine said and sighed over the picture of the screen idol. ‘I’ve seen all his films over and over again, but I love The Sheikh the most. They say he’s planning to make a sequel to it soon.’

  ‘Oh, he’s just wonderful,’ Chloe agreed and crossed her legs. She was wearing a short skirt, which her grandmother, Lady Margaret Hatton, thought was shockingly indecent, and fine silk stockings.

  ‘Marvellous,’ Justine said and reached for the silver cigarette box on the table beside her, offering it to Chloe, who shook her head. ‘Oh, of course, you don’t. Mummy hates it if I smoke when she’s in the room, but Daddy doesn’t mind. He says there are worse things than a woman smoking, and he smokes too much himself. I take after him; at least, that’s what Mummy always says whenever she’s annoyed with me.’ Her laugh was tinkling and infectious.

&nbs
p; Chloe smiled affectionately at her. Justine was bright and pretty, and always saying things she really didn’t mean, because she thought it was clever. It was fashionable to behave in the slightly outrageous way she did amongst her friends, and Chloe knew that her cousin wasn’t really wild at all underneath. She would fall in love, get married and live in a beautiful house in the country somewhere with occasional visits to town, and no doubt be very happy. Her parents spoiled her all the time, which was very nice. Chloe could have done with a little of that spoiling herself, but she knew she wasn’t likely to get it from her father.

  He had always been a reserved man, but since her mother’s death he had withdrawn more and more into his own world, leaving Chloe to fend for herself. If it hadn’t been for Justine, of whom she was very fond, Chloe thought that she might have been rather lonely.

  Her grandmother rarely left her home in the north of England these days, and her health was not good. She preferred not to have visitors, though she asked to see her granddaughter once a year, and remembered to send her a birthday card.

  ‘I expect you’ll like being married,’ she said to Justine. ‘When you find the right person.’

  ‘But don’t you want to marry?’ Justine looked at her curiously.

  ‘In time, I suppose—but not yet.’

  Chloe wanted something more of life than her mother had had being Peter Randall’s wife. She knew that a life similar to that of her own or even Justine’s mother, who had a busy social schedule, would not suit her. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but an independent observer might have seen that she needed affection.

  ‘Smoking is all right if you like it,’ Chloe said as her cousin selected one from the box. ‘It makes me choke and I don’t enjoy the taste.’

  ‘Oh, well…the taste is something you get used to.’

  Justine wasn’t going to admit that she only did it because her Bohemian friends said it was smart. She had to be a part of the crowd if she wanted to be invited to all the best parties. She looked at the magazine on her lap and sighed again.

  ‘Do you ever wonder what it would be like to meet a real Sheikh, Chloe? Would he be at all like Valentino, do you think?’

  ‘Lord, I shouldn’t think so for a moment,’ Chloe replied and giggled. She was giggling as much at her cousin, who was taking a delicate puff of smoke through her elegant cigarette holder, as at the suggestion, but she didn’t let Justine know that. ‘He would probably be fat, greasy and smell absolutely awful.’

  ‘Oh, don’t,’ Justine begged, tipping back her head in the manner of Gloria Swanson on screen. ‘Please don’t shatter my illusions. I’ll have you know I dream of meeting Valentino…I see him bending down to swoop me up in his arms and carry me off to his tent in the desert.’ She gave a delicious little shiver at the thought.

  ‘You and a million other women,’ Chloe said and smiled. She too had imagined herself in similar situations to those endured by the slave girl played by the actress Agnes Ayres, but in her heart she knew she wasn’t likely to meet someone who looked and behaved as the film star did on screen. ‘But I agree that it would be romantic to meet Rudolph Valentino… Just imagine if someone asked you to star with him in a film.’

  ‘Oh, I would die for the chance,’ Justine said and laughed. ‘I still think it would be romantic to be carried off by a Sheikh to his tent beneath the desert stars…’

  ‘You might not like it when you got there,’ Chloe said. ‘I think it would be better to stick to the film version—much safer.’

  She had often thought how exciting it would be to act in a Hollywood film, and her mouth curved as she imagined being asked to play the slave girl in a film similar to The Sheikh. Of course it was just a silly dream, and she had never told anyone, even Justine, of her foolish thoughts.

  ‘Well, I shall have to be content with my library job until Prince Charming comes to sweep me off my feet,’ Justine said, shrugging her elegant shoulders. ‘At least you have an exciting holiday to look forward to.’

  ‘It isn’t just a holiday,’ Chloe said. ‘Professor Hicks is a dear, kind man, but I dare say he will expect me to work for my privileges.’

  ‘It’s a pity he’s so old,’ Justine said. She pulled a face of disappointment. ‘Older than your father. But you never know, you might meet someone exciting on your trip, Chloe. Perhaps he will be dark and handsome and carry you off to his casbah—’

  ‘I doubt that very much,’ Chloe said, but it didn’t stop her dreaming. In her heart she was as romantic as Justine, though she tried hard not to be. Her father had always told her to keep a clear mind on things and judge the situation before she made any decisions. Chloe knew that it was best not to dream or to expect too much, because that only led to disappointment.

  ‘Act on impulse and you may live to regret it,’ had been Mr Peter Randall’s maxim all his life. It was a very sensible, safe way to look at things, but could be a little dull, Chloe had discovered. Sometimes she thought it might be exciting to do something mad and totally irresponsible for once in her life.

  ‘Well, we can all dream,’ Justine said and got up to put on a new dance record she had bought. ‘Come on, Chloe—try this…’

  Chloe jumped to her feet, laughing as Justine began to demonstrate one of the latest dance crazes. She was always trying something new, which was perhaps why Chloe found it fun to be with her.

  ‘Oh, I do wish you could come with us,’ she sighed. ‘But I suppose it’s no good wishing for the moon.’

  ‘Mummy would never agree anyway,’ Justine said. ‘She is determined to marry me off to someone very rich and very dull.’

  Chloe shook her head. ‘Well, the very rich part wouldn’t be so bad, Justine. Poor Daddy has found it difficult to manage since the war. He invested in a company that failed and it reduced his income almost by half. That’s why I was so pleased to get a job almost straight away.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t mind the money,’ Justine agreed. ‘I can see myself in furs and jewels. Summer on the French Riviera and winter in Biarritz…’

  ‘Yes,’ Chloe agreed. ‘And if he has lots of it, Justine, perhaps he won’t be so very dull after all.’

  It was all so exciting and glamorous, being seen off by her friends on board a luxury cruise ship. On deck the atmosphere was just like a big party, with champagne corks popping, people laughing and streamers flowing. Everyone seemed to have friends who had come to wish them ‘Bon Voyage’, and Chloe was pleased that her father and Justine had insisted on making the journey to Southampton with her.

  She had noticed that most of the other guests on board seemed very wealthy, the women dressed in elegant clothes with furs draped over their shoulders, and the men quietly confident though often wearing sober suits. Perhaps that was why she noticed him almost immediately, because he stood out from the others. His suit was a light fawn colour and obviously expensive, and his shoes were handmade leather, his shirt the kind that came from Savile Row.

  ‘That’s the horn telling us it’s time to go ashore,’ Chloe’s father said and kissed her. ‘Take care of yourself, my dear. Have a good time and be as useful as you can to Charles. Above all, do as he tells you and behave yourself. I want to be proud of my daughter and it was very good of Charles to give you this job.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Daddy,’ Chloe said and hugged him. ‘Take care of yourself.’ He nodded and released himself firmly from her embrace.

  ‘I shall just go and say goodbye to Charles.’

  ‘Yes, you must.’

  ‘You girls must say your goodbyes quickly,’ Mr Randall warned as he went off, leaving them at the rails together.

  ‘Oh, damn,’ Justine said. ‘I suppose we shall have to go ashore.’ She pulled a face. ‘I do so wish I was coming with you.’ She kissed Chloe. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t—and don’t run off with a Sheikh!’ She threw out her arms dramatically as she spoke, accidentally striking a man standing just behind her.

  ‘Be careful, young woman!’<
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  In her exuberance, Justine had knocked the man’s arm, causing him to jerk and spill champagne over his suit. It was the man Chloe had noticed earlier being seen off by a party of friends, all of whom were dressed as elegantly as he was, and one of them a rather beautiful young woman. He was glaring at Justine furiously, and she was clearly embarrassed, which made Chloe jump to her cousin’s defence.

  ‘It was rather foolish to bring your drink into a crowd like this, don’t you think?’ she said. ‘Justine didn’t mean any harm.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Justine said and smiled at him winningly, her cheeks a fiery red. ‘I’m terribly sorry. I hope I haven’t done any real harm?’

  ‘The suit is probably ruined, but it is of no consequence,’ he said and turned away.

  ‘What a rude man!’ Chloe said as he moved further down the rail; the crowd was thinning out now as people began to leave. ‘It was his own fault for getting so close to you.’

  ‘I expected he wanted to wave to his friends on shore,’ Justine said. ‘Oh, lord, I must go or they will take me with you…’

  They hugged and Justine ran off to join the last few stragglers going ashore. Chloe laughed as her friend held on to her hat and tried to wave all at the same time, then she turned to look for her travelling companions. Catching sight of Professor Hicks and his secretary, Miss Amelia Ramsbottom, she raised her arm to signal to them. As she did so, she heard a muffled exclamation and swung round to see that she had succeeded in tipping the remainder of that glass of champagne over the man Justine had upset earlier.

  ‘I see you are determined to ruin this suit,’ he said, and just for a moment she thought there was a glimmer of humour in his eyes. ‘Did I do something to annoy you?’