The maid rushed to help, and picked out two. One was in a soft blush rose, the colour of the sky at the horizon at dawn, and the other was a soft blue, decorated with silver.
Either one, the maid mimed back, holding up first one exquisite dress and then the other.
‘Which one would you choose?’
The maid held up the sky-blue dress, and, drawing an arc above her head to represent the sky, she next drew the bowl of the sun, from which all life came. Then, she touched her heart, and brushed her stomach with her hand as if she were carrying a child.
Isla tried hard not to let her surprise show. She had to arrive at a decision fast.
‘I love the one you’ve chosen.’ But not for the reason the maid had used to make her choice.
Apprehension stormed through her. She was being naive if she thought Shazim had invited her to a private dinner in order to quiz her about her work. It might not seem possible to her that he looked at her with interest in anything other than her professional skills, but to everyone else...
The maid coughed discreetly, and glanced pointedly at the beautiful little French ormolu clock on the console table.
What could she do? She had left it too late to let him down.
* * *
He was staring out over the oasis. Flat and empty, it could have been a symbol of his life. It was how he’d seen his life when he lost his brother. Behind him was the table loaded with delicious things, but he couldn’t be sure Isla would join him.
His senses flared as he heard her behind him.
‘Isla—’
His face as he turned must have betrayed the fact that he wasn’t simply greeting the prize winner who could give so much to his country, and to his brother’s project, but a woman he wanted in his bed. She looked exquisite and, for a moment, he was too stunned to speak. He had half expected Isla to wear her usual jeans, or perhaps the sober grey suit she had worn for the ceremony, but this most practical of women was floating towards him in the most glamorous gown he had ever seen. Ankle length, it was composed of several layers of the finest silk chiffon that undulated and drifted around her as she moved. And she’d left her hair loose. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was?
He thought not. Isla was as unaffected as the day was long, and as direct and as uncompromising as ever.
The scene he had created for her enjoyment stopped her in her tracks.
‘Shazim, this is...’
She started to speak, but for once words failed her and she gestured helplessly instead. ‘I can’t describe it,’ she admitted. ‘I had no idea there was an oasis behind the palace, and this candlelit setting against the night sky is just so unbelievably beautiful. I had no idea you could be so romantic,’ she added as she took it all in.
‘My team are responsible,’ he retorted with a self-deprecating shrug. ‘They wanted our prize winner to have the best experience possible while she’s here.’
He couldn’t even speak of her as if this was his idea, and Isla was standing in front of him. His heart was ice. He had flashes of longing to be different, but the ice must stay. He didn’t deserve anything more.
‘You’ve gone to far too much trouble—or your team has,’ Isla insisted. ‘But I’m really grateful.’
From the little he had come to know of her, he knew how pragmatic a woman she was, and so he was surprised to hear the shake in her voice, as if she had been touched by the effort that had been gone to on her behalf, so maybe Isla had problems demonstrating her feelings too.
Or maybe the trouble he had gone to made her nervous. There was that possibility too.
‘Please thank your team for me,’ she said, polite as ever as she leaned forward to inhale the bewitching scent of the floral displays.
As she moved her silken hair briefly covered her face and, when she straightened up again, he couldn’t have been more surprised to see tears in her eyes.
‘I know I’m being silly,’ she said, facing him, ‘but no one has ever done anything like this for me before, and I wish—’
She stopped and turned away.
Walking up to her, he put his hands lightly on her upper arms and, standing behind her, he stared out as she was doing across the flat oasis.
‘You wish your mother could see it,’ he whispered.
‘You know?’ She blinked the tears away and stared at him. Then she must have remembered what he’d said to her in the library about receiving information regarding her from the university.
‘Of course your people will have researched every tiny detail regarding those you would meet,’ she murmured, frowning a little.
‘You must miss your mother.’
‘Oh, yes...so much,’ she admitted.
Isla wasn’t sure how long they stood together in silence. She only knew, as emotion ravaged her, that Shazim seemed to understand her grief. She was angry with herself for showing him any weakness, but sometimes the grief she felt at her mother’s passing was hard to hide. And then, confusingly, there was happiness too, knowing she had fulfilled her mother’s dying wish by going back to university to continue her studies. She couldn’t let her mother down now, but if she failed to meet her expectations in any way, she would.
And then there was also a totally unrealistic yearning for Shazim to put his arms around her, and she had to tell herself to stop wanting things she couldn’t have. All this heart-searching would only distract her from her true purpose...
‘Shall we eat?’ he suggested.
The distraction of such a down-to-earth suggestion was a relief. She had opened her heart for a moment, showing him her true mixed-up feelings, and she could only be glad that he didn’t pity her. He felt her sadness, and had recognized it as his own. In that they did share a bond. Perhaps they were coming to understand each other a little.
‘I’d love to eat—I’m starving,’ she said, turning around. Her heart leapt as Shazim smiled into her eyes at this sign of her spirit returning. ‘Everything looks so delicious.’
‘My team has worked hard,’ he agreed. ‘We mustn’t disappoint them.’
Shazim put her at her ease. They sat side by side, but not touching each other, on cushions overlooking the oasis. It was only as the night progressed that Isla began to realize that what at first had appeared completely empty was in fact full of life... Birds silently skimmed the surface, while bats cavorted overhead. Fish leapt, their scales iridescent in the moonlight, while fireflies hovered like tiny dots of light against the darkness. There was a whole busy world, just waiting to be explored.
‘This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,’ she told Shazim.
While she was still trying to get her head around eating supper with a sheikh in such fabulous surroundings, they ate and talked at a leisurely pace.
Isla had been right in waiting, as she had put it, until they had something worthwhile to say. She’d done her homework on Q’Aqabi, and forced him to revisit details he hadn’t considered for years. He had wanted to blot out so much of it, that now he could only be glad that she had prompted his recollections, and that they were as vivid as they had always been.
‘And now you’ve got to show me the desert,’ she insisted. ‘I want to see it through your eyes—’
Her eyes were avid with eagerness, but his tone was sharp. ‘No.’
She had asked him the one thing he could not do, and recoiled with surprise at his response.
‘I have excellent rangers—the best in their field,’ he explained to soften the blow. ‘They will show you everything you should see.’
It took Isla a few moments to recover. She was clearly baffled and embarrassed by his sudden change of manner. When she spoke again she had changed too. She was circumspect, and almost reverential to the point where he could have roared with frustration. He didn’t want reverence from Isla. He wanted her honesty and the frank and easy way in which she had previously spoken her mind to him.
‘I apologise, Your Majesty. I realise that you must have far more
important things to do than show me around.’
Nothing could be further from the truth. What could be more important than visiting the project that would have meant so much to his brother? He had hired the best brains, the best rangers, and the best equipment. Money was no object to him, and no effort had been spared. He had sat up late into the night for years, discussing the best outcome for each stage of the scheme with acknowledged experts in the field.
But had he seen the results of that endeavour first hand?
Wasn’t it time to face his demons and go back into the desert?
Had this extraordinary woman pointed out the one flaw in his plan? Had she shown him in a single night that a scheme without a beating heart was doomed to fail—that it wouldn’t inspire, it couldn’t thrive, it couldn’t last?
Springing to his feet, he stared down at her. ‘I’ll have the appropriate items you will need for your journey into the desert delivered to your suite. I will be ready and waiting to leave at dawn tomorrow morning.’ And with that he strode away, leaving her staring after him in surprise.
* * *
After a restless night, tossing and turning as she wondered if she had insulted Shazim, Isla was up before dawn. She was excited at the prospect of visiting the desert, and with him, and a little apprehensive too. All her knowledge and understanding came from books. Would she be equal to the task when she faced reality?
Shazim offered no reassurance. When she joined him at the foot of the palace steps, she doubted she had ever seen him so grim and intent, or so remote from her before. Something had rattled him. Was it her? Dressed down in jeans and a figure-hugging top, with the polarised aviators pilots favoured shoved back on his thick black hair, Shazim looked more like a stuntman in a movie than a hard man of the desert. He was too good-looking to be real, but then appearances could be deceptive, and from everything she’d seen and heard about him Shazim was tempered steel.
They took an elevator to the roof of the palace where a squat black helicopter was waiting. She had never flown in a helicopter before, and had to admit to a flutter of nerves. It was only Shazim’s air of command that calmed her enough to climb in. He was piloting the aircraft, and she tried not to look at the floor as he strapped her in. She’d had no idea it was see-through, but, of course, that made sense, though it wouldn’t pay to have a fear of heights.
Having organised her headset and her microphone, Shazim made some last-minute checks and spoke to air traffic control. Seated next to him, she could see everything, and his confidence helped her to conquer her nerves as they lifted off. She relaxed to the point where she could enjoy the view...and not just the desert that stretched like an endless sea all around them, but the man at her side. He was like a rock beside her, powerful, certain, and calm. His shoulders had the span of a warrior’s shoulders, but he was the protector of his people...and his lean, tanned hands, hands that had been so gentle on her arms last night, made her long to be in his embrace. She wanted to know everything about him—what made him sad, happy, and what made him smile. She had never felt like this about a man before and, after her experience at the hands of her attacker, she’d never thought she’d be able. She was sensible, practical, and competent. She had her fantasies, but had never considered bringing those fantasies into her life before.
* * *
Having Isla at his side and in his head was like salve on an open wound. He might have put off this trip for ever without her. Revisiting the desert was a pilgrimage for him. He owed it to his brother to bring Isla and her new ideas to the project. That was what had driven him here, and now his hunger was growing to have the hands-on role he had denied himself for too long. As their shadow crept over the desert he was impatient to be down on the ground. He wanted to feel the sand beneath his desert boots again. He’d want Isla on his team, regardless of whether or not he wanted her in his bed. She was loyal and she was tough, and she wasn’t fazed by anything...least of all him. She had stood up to him every step of the way, and was strong-minded, always doing what she believed to be right.
Too strong-minded, possibly?
He smiled a little. He liked the challenge she gave him.
He glanced at Isla. She gave him a guarded smile, but he could sense her excitement. She was about to visit the nature reserve she had been dreaming about. Checking in with flight control, he signalled his intention to land.
‘Oh,’ she exclaimed, clinging onto her seat as he swooped lower. ‘Are we landing?’
‘Yes.’ He made a mental note not to fly as he usually did, but to have some concern for his passenger. He had grown tense at the thought of revisiting the site of the tragedy, and was flying on the edge of what was possible.
He shouldn’t even be thinking about a woman who could only be the briefest of distractions in his life when he had so much more to accomplish, he told himself firmly as he landed the bird.
The briefest of distractions?
Was that why he had dispatched his security team to watch over Isla when she had left the club in London? This was a woman who had revitalised him like a bolt of lightning to his core. She had shaken up his life when he had thought everything would be at an emotional standstill for ever. She’d made him see things differently, to the point where he knew now that Isla wouldn’t be seeing the desert through his eyes, but he would be seeing this land he had once loved so deeply through hers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ISLA WAS A child of nature, drawn to new experiences and adventure, as he had been as a youth. They had barely landed when she asked if she could visit the clinic. The Jeep was waiting for them, so he drove her there. He had barely switched off the engine when she crammed her hat onto her head and leapt out to brave the sun. It amused him to think that, for once, he wasn’t taking the lead; nor was he the greater attraction. He followed her into the building, where he watched her take stock. He didn’t need to introduce her; she’d already done that herself. He stayed just long enough to watch her roll up her sleeves and get to work.
She was still at the clinic three hours later working alongside his rangers. He knew they’d be grateful for her expertise. He was at the coral, where animals awaiting release into the wild were housed. A stab of very masculine jealousy hit him as he worked alongside his men. His rangers were all tough, good-looking guys, and Isla had brought grown men slavering to their knees at the pole-dancing club. His warrior genes had detonated at the sight of them devouring her with their eyes, though she’d handled them all with the same cool aplomb—handled him the same way. Even when she’d discovered who he was, it had made no difference to Isla.
Isla Sinclair. Warrior woman. The thought made him smile. He admired her guts, and her sheer, stubborn determination to do the work she loved, and to help those around her. Even at the club, the manager had told him how Isla had stepped in last minute to help a friend, and had been such a sensation that he wanted to offer her a job. Shazim had killed that idea, and for no reason he could fathom at the time—just gut instinct that told him there was some vulnerability beneath Isla’s can-do attitude. He didn’t know the root of it, but wouldn’t countenance other men taking advantage of her—
‘Your Majesty? Is everything all right?’
Seeing the expression on the rangers’ faces, he realised how grim he’d become and had to clear thoughts of Isla from his mind. With a brief dip of his head, he said nothing as they walked past the spot he had avoided for so many years. The precipitous ledge where his life had changed for ever was part of the reserve. It was the heart of it. He would never avoid it again.
The desert was working its magic on him too, he mused as he stopped to stare around. Could Isla resist the magic? Anticipation roared through him at the thought of finding out.
* * *
Her first experience of the real desert did not disappoint in any way. The palace had been fabulous, and the extraordinary new experiences in a place of such opulence and craftsmanship had been a real eye-opener for her, but this wild, dangerous p
lace was where Isla knew she belonged. And though her dreams had been mini-adventures, nothing could have prepared her for this reality. The immensity of the landscape, and the great bowl of electric-blue sky arcing over the seemingly boundless ocean of sand, made her feel very small and very insignificant, but, oh-so eager to begin. She loved the clinic, and the rangers, and the animals. She slotted right in, and had never been happier in her work.
She stayed long after everyone else had left, and when she walked outside, it was twilight. The colours of the darkening sky were extraordinary, and she took a moment to give thanks for where she was. Purple, pewter, pink and aquamarine vied for supremacy, filling her with a sense of happiness, a sense of belonging. Stretching out her arms to touch the air, she shook them to loosen her muscles. She needed it after concentrated working for so long. There was only one thing missing now, she reasoned wryly, and that was Shazim, though she doubted he would have time for her. Her assistants had told her that he had taken another group of rangers deeper into the desert, so he could observe the progress of the latest animal release programme.
Isla’s imagination was only too eager to supply romantic images for this. Shazim would be dressed in flowing robes, and seated on a prancing stallion as he stood for a moment silhouetted against a darkening sky.
When he actually arrived, it was in a convertible Jeep, and he was wearing the same jeans and top he’d been wearing all day. Shazim was driving, and the group of rangers with him looked tired but happy, while Shazim looked more alive than she had ever seen him. His fierce stare sought out hers immediately, and when the rangers went their own way he came up to her.
‘What?’ he asked, no doubt seeing the bemused look on her face. ‘Were you picturing a desert sheikh dressed in flowing robes, with a howlis wrapped around his head, riding towards you through a shimmering heat haze?’
In the Sheikh's Service Page 6
