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The Sheikh

Page 25

by Anne Herries


  All at once silence fell as Pasha rose to his feet and addressed the assembled company in his native tongue. He spoke for some minutes, and then sat down again. Mohammed then rose and did the same, and at a signal from him two men brought in two little tables with a very elaborate-looking document on each.

  Pasha signed his, and then Mohammed signed and the documents were exchanged. Only then was there a collective sigh from the company.

  Then the men got up and went to Mohammed, bowing before him and kissing the hand he offered. They also bowed and salaamed to Pasha, but did not kiss his hand. Mohammed said something more, and then everyone started to leave the tent. From outside, Chloe could hear the sound of guns being fired.

  She looked at Pasha in alarm, but he smiled at her.

  ‘It is a celebration,’ he told her. ‘The documents we just signed make Mohammed my uncle’s heir. He will assume those duties that would otherwise be mine. We have agreed that two-thirds of the oil revenues from his land and mine shall be used for the good of our people. The money will be used to build a modern city that will be as good as anything the Western world can provide, and it will have schools and hospitals for the people.’

  ‘Oh, Pasha…’ Chloe looked at him with moist eyes. ‘I think that is wonderful…really wonderful…’

  ‘I am glad that you approve,’ he said, and stood up. He gave her his hand to help her rise, and then he bowed his head to Mohammed and she did the same. ‘I know that you will rule justly and wisely,’ Pasha said. ‘You have offered me a position such as I held with the prince, but I have refused. I believe that in giving the safe keeping of our land into your hands, I may now retire to live my own life in the way I choose.’

  Mohammed nodded, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

  ‘You have acted with wisdom and generosity, my cousin, and our people shall know of your goodness. Your name shall be honoured amongst us. Go in peace with your woman, and may the blessings of Allah be upon you both.’

  Chloe curtsied to him, and then Pasha led her from the tent. She glanced at him when they were outside.

  ‘You have the wisdom of Solomon,’ she said. ‘Where did that idea come from?’

  ‘I had been thinking of putting my oil revenues into a trust for the people, for in truth it is their land, Chloe. Why should one man have all the riches that come from the earth? It will be a great deal of money one day, and I have enough through my own endeavours. I kept back one-third, and that will be used to improve the lot of my own particular people.’

  ‘The people at your father’s casbah?’

  ‘Yes.’ His eyes looked into hers. ‘It sets us free, Chloe. Mohammed is the right man to step into the prince’s shoes. I had thought it for a while, but I could not simply hand over to him without some form of treaty between us. I was not prepared to see the wealth that will come from oil squandered. But I was right to believe that Mohammed would agree to use it for the people, and I am content that he will be a just ruler.’

  They had not returned to their tent at once, but walked under the stars to the edge of the oasis, away from the noise of the celebrations to the quietness of some sand dunes. And there Pasha took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly on the lips.

  ‘Are you sad that I shall merely be Mr Armand from now on and no longer a powerful Sheikh?’ he asked her teasingly.

  ‘You could never be merely anything,’ Chloe said and laughed as she gazed into his wicked eyes. ‘I shall be quite content to have Mr Armand as my husband, but we shall come back to the desert sometimes, Pasha? It is so romantic here beneath the stars.’

  ‘I believe you are more a Bedouin than I am,’ Pasha teased her and put his arm about her waist as they both looked up at the dark sky, sprinkled now with a cluster of stars. Behind them the lights of the fires were red against the sky, but here they were alone with the mystery of the desert that had remained unsolved for centuries. ‘Yes, my darling. We shall come back sometimes. Like you, I feel the pull of its beauty, especially at night when the heat is not so fierce.’

  ‘So…’ Chloe gazed up at him, love and mischief combined in a face that became more beautiful every day. ‘Have I at last convinced you that it is romantic to be carried off by a Sheikh?’

  Pasha’s laughter was warm and throaty. ‘I see that I shall never cure you, Chloe. You are a hopeless romantic.’

  ‘You have revealed one of your secrets,’ Chloe said, arching her neck as she looked at him provocatively. ‘But there is something else…something you mentioned as we were coming here…’

  ‘Ah…’ Pasha gave her a teasing look. ‘For that you must wait, my darling. When I have my son…then I shall tell you.’

  Afterword

  Chloe glanced at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a very elegant new gown that Pasha had chosen for her in an expensive New York store earlier that day. They had been in America for three days, having travelled there on a luxurious liner once she was over the birth of their son.

  She turned as her husband came into the bedroom.

  ‘Has he settled with Nanny now?’ she asked, knowing that he had been with Philip Henry, because he had that smile on his face—the smile he always wore after being with their child.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied and looked at her. ‘You are more beautiful than ever, my darling. Are you looking forward to the party this evening?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She touched the pearls at her throat. ‘You spoil me, Pasha.’

  ‘You are worth it,’ he said and put his arms around her waist from behind, looking at her in the mirror. ‘I promised you a surprise, didn’t I?’

  ‘Ages ago,’ she replied. ‘I thought you had forgotten.’ She swung round to gaze up at him. ‘Is it to do with the party?’

  ‘Yes and no.’ He had that teasing glint in his eyes again. ‘You know that the professor and Amelia are coming.’

  ‘Of course.’ Chloe laughed. ‘I think what we did pushed Amelia into doing something she ought to have done years ago—she asked him to marry her, you know.’

  ‘And he said yes—sensible man,’ Pasha said. ‘I was always sorry that we didn’t invite them to our wedding, but as you know he had dragged poor Amelia off to some remote fort again.’

  ‘Not so poor—she loves him.’ Chloe pulled a face. ‘So what is my surprise, or are you going to make me wait forever?’

  ‘I’ve invited some people from the motion picture business to our party.’ Pasha laughed as he saw her face. ‘As a matter of fact, we’re on the verge of a breakthrough with talking movies.’

  ‘We…?’ Chloe frowned. ‘I don’t understand. What do you mean we are on the verge of a breakthrough?’

  ‘I invested in a firm researching the idea some months ago,’ Pasha replied. ‘Tomorrow I’ll take you to see something special, but tonight I have a more important surprise for you.’

  Chloe gave him a murderous look. ‘Pasha! If your son wasn’t sleeping peacefully in the next room I might do you a serious injury.’

  Pasha chuckled as he saw her impatient expression. ‘I’ve been told that we might have an extra guest at our party…a certain Mr Valentino…’

  ‘Valentino…’ Chloe stared at him in amazement. ‘You don’t mean it? Coming to our party? Oh, it is a pity Justine couldn’t manage to be here. She is mad about him.’

  ‘I thought you were rather partial to him yourself?’ Pasha raised his brows.

  ‘He’s wonderful in the pictures,’ Chloe said, a roguish smile touching her mouth. ‘And of course he always looks so romantic and exciting but…’ She paused wickedly. ‘I have my very own Sheikh now and I don’t think any other man could quite measure up to my ideals.’

  ‘Flatterer!’ Pasha said but his eyes glowed like hot coals. ‘It is just as well you said that, lady wife, because otherwise I might have had to cancel the party and carry you off to my casbah…’

  IMPRINT: e-book HMB Series Specials

  ISBN: 9781460856468

  TITLE: THE SHEIKH
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  First Australian Publication 2012

  Copyright © 2012 ANNE HERRIES

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W., Australia 2067.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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