He surged up from his seat to place both hands on the desk, and towered over Iseult in the chair. ‘Stop talking—right now.’
Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, and along with shock at his quick anger Iseult also felt a dangerous thrill at being so close to that vibrant, tightly coiled energy.
He sat back down and raked a hand through his hair, impatience bouncing off him in waves. ‘You are unbelievably impertinent. No one speaks to me like this—no one. The fact that you are even here, having this conversation with me, is because I recognise the role you have played here. That is all. Believe me, in any other instance you would be lucky to have me acknowledge your existence—never mind conduct a discourse like this.’
Iseult clamped her mouth shut on the words aching to trip off her tongue at his arrogance. In truth, he was intimidating her more than she cared to admit, and after seeing the evidence of his protective entourage she could well imagine that he wouldn’t normally have cast someone like her a second glance. The thought surprisingly sank like a lead balloon in her belly. ‘Your father is being kept on—exactly as I promised. But in an advisory capacity at first. I will not allow someone to take over the running of this place who has so obviously let it slip between his fingers. And, despite your noble defence of him, I’m not convinced that his weakest traits are behind him.’
Iseult could feel herself blanch. He meant her father’s drinking. She couldn’t meet the Sheikh’s eyes for long, feeling as if he was looking right into her soul and seeing her own private fears laid bare. Because she wasn’t entirely sure herself how her father would react.
‘My newly appointed manager will start here to morrow, early, and I expect you to give him a full rundown of everything. I know you still have some mares. The fact that you have a training facility here at the house is one of your great advantages, making this a fully sufficient stud, which is exactly what I want to expand upon. Then will come the task of acquiring new foals, yearlings, stallions and mares, and slowly building everything from the ground up again…’
Iseult nodded her head, a tiny spark
of excitement spiking through her to think of them getting an overhaul and breeding once again. ‘I can fill the new manager in when he comes…we’ll have some time, though, won’t we? The autumn yearling sales won’t be starting for a few weeks.’
Nadim just looked at her, and Iseult felt something unspoken move between them. Instinctively she shivered.
‘He will have plenty of time, yes. Along with your father. You, however, will have just the morning to acquaint him with everything you’ve dealt with. Be cause tomorrow early evening you’ll be travelling to Merkazad with Devil’s Kiss.’
CHAPTER THREE
ISEULT just looked at the Sheikh dumbly. She shook her head faintly. ‘Merkazad? What’s Merkazad? I’ll be needed here.’
His face tightened ominously, ‘Merkazad is where I live—my country. It’s a small independent sheikhdom in the southern region of Al-Omar. And, yes, you are coming.’
Fear made her heart stop. ‘But why? Why would you need me to come there? You have a veritable industry in your own country.’
He arched his brow again. ‘You’ve been checking me out?’
Iseult flushed, mortified. ‘I just looked you up to see who our new owner was, that’s all.’ Except now all she could think of were those pictures of his glamorous women.
Nadim couldn’t really believe he was still having this conversation. He told people what he wanted and they obeyed. It was simple and straightforward and had been all his life. But for the first time it wasn’t. And it came in the shape of this redhaired, quick-tempered woman before him, who was still dressed in the clothes she’d worn when riding Devil’s Kiss earlier.
He looked at her mouth, which was as lusciously full and sensuous as he’d suspected it would be when he’d first seen her, and felt a flash of desire in that moment so strong that he had to clench a fist against his thigh under the desk. He questioned his sanity at insisting she come to his country, but something compelling wouldn’t allow him to backtrack.
He gritted out words through that unbidden and unwelcome wave of desire. ‘You will be coming to Al-Omar, and then on to Merkazad. There will be no further discussion on this.’
As if his words had finally broken through her shock at his announcement, Iseult stood up jerkily from the chair and spun away into the room. She put out a hand, as if that could encompass everything.
‘But I can’t just leave here. This is my home. I’ve been working here for ever.’ She could feel hysteria rising as it all hit her at once—the magnitude of what he was saying. ‘My father—how will he cope without me? And the kids? I’m all they have. I can’t just leave them behind—’
The Sheikh had stood too, his whole body taut with obvious anger that she persisted in defying him. ‘Who,’ he barked out, frowning fiercely, ‘are the kids? Don’t tell me you have a brood of children up your sleeve that your father omitted to mention?’
Nadim didn’t know why that sudden thought made his vision blur with incandescence—so much so that he barely saw Iseult shaking her head forcibly. ‘No—no, of course I have no children. I’m talking about my brothers and sister. Since Mum died I’m all they’ve had.’
Nadim’s vision cleared. He was surprised to find that he was so angry, and so relieved. He moved around the desk to the other side, further enraged at seeing how Iseult backed away. Her hair had all but unravelled from her ponytail, and long tendrils curled like dark flames around her slim shoulders.
He forced himself to keep his eyes on her face and ignore the banking desire within him, still astounded that she was having this effect on him. It had to be some arbitrary reaction because he’d not taken a new mistress in months. Sheer sexual frustration, that was all. A physical response to an attractive woman.
‘You said they were all in college.’
‘They are…’ Iseult desperately tried to appeal to this man. ‘But the twins are just eighteen years old. They’ve never lived away from home before.’
‘Their home isn’t going anywhere,’ Sheikh Nadim pointed out curtly. ‘I’ve been more than generous in allowing your family to remain here.’
‘No,’ said Iseult, feeling guilty again, knowing how different things would be if they’d been facing a takeover by the bank, ‘but if I’m not here…they…’
Even as she said the words she could recognise how pathetic they sounded. She knew very well that Paddy Junior was fine and most likely not coming home until Christmas time, and the twins were in the same college, happily set up in on-campus accommodation with other schoolfriends who were doing the same course. Iseult had settled them in herself, just last week.