by Alison Kent
But he shouldn’t be hanging around here. He had pressing commitments, little time to spare for Lizzie Palmer, however beautiful she might be…but he was interested to see how she would look dressed in something other than formal business attire.
Kemal’s eyes hardened as he watched her obvious glee and remembered how easily some women could be bought. He had thought Lizzie Palmer was different. But no matter—he had no thought of creating a permanent space for her in his life, and no inclination to sort out her problems. He pulled back from the fretwork screen as Lizzie stood up. She had an armful of things and was heading for the bathroom. Her modesty touched him. Briefly. She was lodged in the harem for one reason only as far as he was concerned—and modesty wasn’t part of his plan.
‘I trust everything is to your liking?’ he said coolly when Lizzie finally emerged from her suite and crossed the hall towards him.
She looked fabulous. And it was hardly surprising. Her natural beauty needed little adornment, so his instructions to the personal shopper had specified elegant simplicity rather than a selection of blatantly fashionable clothes. The slim-fitting navy trousers, Gucci loafers and tan leather blouson suited her to perfection. The jacket had felt like silk beneath his hands when it had been brought for him to approve. He liked everything to feel good—just like Lizzie, he mused as she walked up to him.
He noticed she was wearing hardly any make-up—something else he approved of—and her thick, glossy blonde hair was secured on top of her head with a couple of the tortoiseshell pins he had ordered with her long hair in mind. One quick movement and the whole shimmering cape would cascade down around her shoulders—but that was for later.
‘It’s all very nice. Thank you,’ she said politely.
Kemal’s cynical thoughts were confirmed—even Lizzie Palmer could be bought with a few trifles.
But, breaking into his thoughts, she added, ‘Naturally I will pay you back for everything.’
‘Of course,’ he agreed dryly. ‘Whenever you are ready.’
However he tried to harden his heart against Lizzie Palmer, she managed to surprise him, Kemal acknowledged. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not—he only knew that he wanted her in the most pleasurable way.
‘A quick lunch, and then we discuss the detail of my departure to take the place of the men?’ she was saying optimistically.
She was nervous. He guessed she was untutored—not vulnerable, as he had first supposed—and that made anything possible. He would soon teach her to relax, in a way he hoped she would find dangerously addictive. There was a vacancy on his staff for a short-term mistress, and Lizzie Palmer satisfied his list of requirements perfectly.
‘A relaxed, informal lunch,’ he corrected her, ‘and then we talk.’ On his terms, as always, Kemal determined, amused to think that Lizzie might imagine it could be any other way.
Lizzie stared at Kemal. Freedom for Hugo and herself meant she must comply with his every wish. But he was trying to make it easier for her, and this wasn’t so hard, she conceded as she linked her arm through his.
Catching sight of them in one of the huge gilt-framed mirrors, she was stunned to see what a striking couple they made. It hardly seemed possible—or even likely. Kemal was so glamorous, in a hard-driven, masculine way, and she had never considered herself particularly attractive. The glamorous clothes certainly helped, but she couldn’t help suspecting he had dressed her for a part, and began to wonder exactly what role he expected her to play.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Lizzie said at the door. ‘I’d rather eat here—something quick and simple—and then we can talk while we eat—like we did last night,’ she pointed out hopefully. ‘Look,’ she said, when she saw Kemal’s expression harden, ‘why don’t you arrange for a phone and an Internet connection in my room? Then I can help you to track down the parts for your machinery before I leave—’
‘Please leave business matters to me,’ he said. ‘I need you to help me with something else.’
‘Oh?’ Lizzie said, surprised. ‘What’s that?’
‘Christmas shopping.’
‘Christmas shopping?’ She frowned. It seemed so out of context. ‘Can’t that wait?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Kemal said. ‘As you are always reminding me, Lizzie, time is running out where Christmas is concerned.’
‘But surely you have people to do that for you?’
‘This is different,’ Kemal said. ‘This is something special. I had hoped you might help me.’
Tit for tat? A shopping expedition in exchange for her speedy departure to take Hugo’s place? She couldn’t refuse, Lizzie realised.
‘I have to buy presents for my nieces. And I never know what to buy,’ Kemal said impatiently, while she was still deliberating whether or not to agree to his request.
Lizzie studied his face. He certainly looked convincing enough. Perhaps this was an opportunity to rebalance their relationship. ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘But only on condition that the moment we get back you help me with this exchange so Hugo and the other men can go home.’
‘That seems fair enough,’ he agreed. ‘And if it makes it any easier for you, let’s say that you are helping me out in return for your bed and board.’
‘One night’s bed and board,’ Lizzie reminded him, only to have Kemal shrug and give her another inscrutable look.
‘Surely you don’t have a problem with such a simple request?’ he said.
‘No, of course not,’ Lizzie said.
If they only knew it, Kemal’s nieces were in for the best Christmas they’d ever had!
‘I want you to consider my three nieces very carefully,’ Kemal said as they halted first outside an exclusive clothes store.
Everything in the window was displayed beautifully beneath carefully angled lighting, with spotlights picking out the choicest pieces in each range, and Lizzie was dazzled by the array of handbags, costume jewellery, gloves and silk scarves. The colour scheme was a stylish mix of winter white and tan, with highlights of a soft chalky red, and her eyes widened when she recognised a tan jacket that looked very similar to her own. It would take her an age to pay Kemal back for that item alone, she realised with concern.
‘My first niece, Anya,’ Kemal said, reclaiming her attention, ‘does not indulge herself as I believe she should. I’ve seen her looking in this window, and judging by her face we’re sure to find something just right for her here.’
‘These had better really be your nieces,’ Lizzie said, as a pang of suspicion caught her unawares.
‘Why, Ms Palmer,’ Kemal retorted mildly, ‘what sort of man do you take me for?’
‘I wouldn’t like to say,’ Lizzie admitted truthfully, walking past him into the shop.
Kemal didn’t bat an eyelid as the sales assistant, under Lizzie’s direction, wrapped up the most expensive handbag, gloves and silk scarf in the shop.
‘My second niece—’
‘Her name?’ Lizzie prompted as they walked further down the fashionable shopping arcade.
‘Kerola.’
‘Tell me something about her, so I can get a picture of her in my mind,’ Lizzie suggested.
‘Feminine, and rather studious. She likes to read, and I guess she likes to write long letters to her friends.’
‘You guess?’
‘She’s the type,’ he said with a shrug.
Kerola didn’t sound like mistress material Lizzie concluded, reassured. And now it was her turn to lead the way into a small, wood-panelled shop she’d spotted, specialising in writing materials. Picking out a beautiful fountain pen in sapphire blue lacquer, she held it up to the light admiringly. There was a gem inset at the top of the cap, and the nib was pure gold. She tested it thoughtfully between her fingers, before trying out a few words on a clean vellum sheet presented to her by the sales assistant.
‘Do you like it?’ Kemal asked.
‘It is perfectly balanced, and quite beautiful,’ Lizzie said. And very, very expe
nsive, she thought. Apart from wreaking a very female type of vengeance on her tormentor, she couldn’t help but smile when she imagined the look of pleasure on Kerola’s face when she opened this package on Christmas morning.
‘We’ll take it,’ Kemal told the shop assistant. Turning to Lizzie, he added, ‘Don’t you think Kerola would like this five-year diary too? She could confide all her secrets inside and then lock them away.’
Lizzie had to move very close to peer over Kemal’s shoulder as he stared into a glass display cabinet, and it was a struggle to concentrate when she was inhaling the by now familiar scent of sandalwood and clean, warm man. She saw that the diary was covered in fuchsia suede, and there was a tiny gold lock complete with miniature key. ‘Perfect,’ she agreed.
‘I was hoping you would think so,’ Kemal murmured, turning his face up to look at her.
Their faces were very close now, and as he smiled Lizzie’s heart lurched.
‘Only one more niece to go,’ he announced, straightening up abruptly. ‘And then lunch,’ he added, offering Lizzie his arm.
Lizzie hesitated a beat, but then linked her arm through his. It was better for everyone if they stayed on friendly terms.
As they walked along her mind strayed back to the sight of him, his arms locked around the sides of the display cabinet in the shop. The wide spread of his shoulders, and the waves of thick, glossy black hair licking over the collar of his casual jacket. There was so much strength contained in his hands it was almost impossible to believe how gentle he could be. But she had seen him peel a fig with the utmost delicacy, and the careful way in which he had handled each of the precious items they had bought reflected a very different side to Kemal’s character from the tyrant she had imagined him to be. He was a powerful man, but he was a connoisseur too.
These were very dangerous thoughts, Lizzie reminded herself. ‘Don’t bother with lunch,’ she said suddenly, determined to keep her thoughts under control. ‘We still have to find a gift for your third niece, and we have to talk—’
‘I’m sure we can find time to do both and have lunch,’ Kemal told her calmly.
There was nothing for it, she would just have to curb her impatience, Lizzie realised. ‘So, what do you think we should be looking for?’
‘Jewellery.’
‘Real jewellery?’
‘Is there any other kind?’
Seeing the quality of the jewellers in the arcade down which they were strolling, Lizzie became suspicious. This gift was surely for someone other than a niece. But if it was, why should she care? She would be just as objective about selecting this Christmas present as she had been with all the others.
But then Kemal said unexpectedly, ‘Do your best. She’s been having a really hard time.’
Lizzie looked at him in surprise as they stopped in front of another exclusive store. She would leave her cynical self outside the shop, she vowed, and try her best to choose something special.
Lizzie knew the moment they walked in that this was the hushed and reverent showroom of a serious gem dealer. She felt anxious suddenly. She knew nothing about good jewellery. ‘At least tell me your niece’s name,’ she said while they were being escorted to a discreet booth to view the gems. ‘I need help here.’
‘You don’t need help,’ Kemal assured her. ‘Just go with your gut instinct.’
‘That’s quite a responsibility,’ Lizzie murmured.
‘I’m sure you’re up to it,’ Kemal countered, turning away from her to speak to the assistant. ‘Aquamarine?’ he suggested. ‘Something special, unique—a necklace, perhaps?’
‘Certainly, sir.’ Excusing himself, the man hurried away.
‘You’re very generous,’ Lizzie said.
‘I can be.’
Lizzie was relieved when the jeweller returned. For a few moments no one spoke. The collection of fabulous gems took her breath away.
‘This is our most exclusive range,’ the jeweller explained. ‘Each item is fashioned by our finest craftsmen, and each piece has its own story to tell.’
‘Pick out whatever you like,’ Kemal said, turning to Lizzie.
For an instant Lizzie almost envied the young woman who was to receive such a fabulous gift, but then she made herself concentrate on choosing something special, as she had promised to do.
It was like dipping into the most fantastic dressing-up box in the world—there was so much choice—but finally she settled on two pieces upon which she hoped Kemal would make a final decision: a large oval aquamarine ring, set with diamonds, and a fine aquamarine drop hanging from a white gold chain. The drop was particularly pretty, as it hung from a tiny bow studded with brilliant white diamonds.
The jeweller applauded her choice.
‘These pieces are from one of my favourite designers,’ he said. ‘I like the necklace in particular—if you look you can see the drop here represents a tear, and the bow represents the love that prevents that tear from falling.’
‘Why, that’s beautiful,’ Lizzie murmured, entranced by the jeweller’s romantic description. Looking in the mirror, she held the necklace up to her neck and sighed.
‘It suits you,’ Kemal observed dryly. ‘I’m quite sure my niece will be very pleased with your choice.’
He was right—it wouldn’t do to get too fond of it! Lizzie thought, quickly replacing the beautiful necklace on the velvet tray.
‘I’ll take it,’ Kemal informed the assistant. ‘Please have it gift-wrapped and delivered to the palace.’
Bowing, the jeweller escorted them both to the door. ‘It has been a pleasure doing business with you,’ he said, including Lizzie in the pleasantry.
‘Oh, no—it’s nothing to do with me.’ Lizzie blushed red.
Her determination to exact a penalty from Kemal had been well and truly scuppered by his incredible generosity, she realised. And now she felt deeply guilty, thinking of the amount of money she had forced him to part with.
‘Come along,’ Kemal said briskly, apparently unconcerned by the huge sums of money involved, ‘or we will be late for lunch.’
Lizzie became so relaxed over lunch she hardly realised she was talking non-stop about her brother.
It had almost taken the edge off his appetite, Kemal thought ruefully, but not quite. ‘What would you like to do now?’ he said, after calling for the bill.
‘Chase those parts you need for your machinery, sort out flights for Hugo and the other men, and get the exchange underway,’ Lizzie suggested.
‘Quite a shopping list.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Lizzie said, seeing Kemal’s face had darkened. ‘But you’re right—there is a lot to do, and not much time left.’
Was leaving all she thought about? Kemal wondered. He had thought she was becoming more relaxed—big mistake.
‘I would at least like to make a flight reservation for Friday—Christmas Eve—if that’s possible,’ Lizzie said. ‘If I don’t make it, so be it.’
‘You are not in a position to book your flight yet.’
‘Just a reservation,’ Lizzie reminded him. ‘I can’t imagine what I’ll do for Christmas if I’m still here.’
He would not allow those wide-set eyes to soften his resolve, Kemal determined, or those tremulous lips to do anything other than his bidding. ‘Well, I shall be very busy,’ he said crisply. ‘Irrespective of Christmas, I have matters that must be attended to. What you choose to do is, of course, entirely your affair.’
‘That’s if I’m still here…’
Kemal shrugged, and Lizzie could be in no doubt that her options were limited to whatever suited him.
Maybe she could just close her eyes and sleep through the whole thing, Lizzie reflected tensely. She had no intention of weakening now, allowing him to see how badly she needed to be home for Christmas. She had nothing to barter for her freedom. Taking in Kemal’s firm, sensuous mouth, with the shading of rough stubble already showing on his jaw, Lizzie knew she had nothing to offer that he could possibly want
. Seducing the Sultan and making him give in to her demands might have been easy for some women, but she didn’t have a cat in hell’s chance—
‘The lady’s jacket, please,’ Kemal demanded, cutting brutally into her thoughts. ‘We’re leaving now.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SEATED an arm’s length away from Kemal in his sleek black limousine, Lizzie felt as if she had tumbled down Alice’s rabbit hole and woken up in someone else’s shoes. In a matter of hours it seemed as if her whole life had been transformed. She had been swept up into Kemal’s glamorous and very addictive world. His reality was most people’s fantasy, and it was dangerously beguiling.
Was this how it felt to be a rich man’s mistress? Kemal’s mistress? she wondered, and her throat dried as she pictured that bird in the gilded cage, being brought out for the occasional treat—a resource to be dipped into at will. The pun tugged at her lips until she had to smile.
‘It’s good to see you smile.’
Not if you knew what I was thinking about, Lizzie thought, knowing she would have to be more careful in future. She was going home as soon as she could. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong with Kemal.
But still her pulse speeded up just from stealing a glance at him. He was staring out of his window, clearly preoccupied with something or someone else, while her thighs were tingling at the thought of possible contact between them—not that that was very likely, unless the limousine picked up speed and swerved around a corner.
She reddened guiltily when Kemal swung around to face her, as if he knew exactly which route her thoughts were taking.
‘When we get back, you will join me in the spa.’
‘I will?’ Lizzie queried, collecting her wits. Half-naked bodies? Cocoon-like warmth? Clouds of hazy steam? No way!
