Taken by the Sheikh

‘No, none,’ Sadie answered, trying to perch upright on the edge of the leather chair in a businesslike manner, resisting the temptation to subside into its luxurious comfort. There was something about its shaping that invited the human body to abandon itself into a languorously sensual pose that she didn’t feel was appropriate for an employee on probation.

Putting an automatically dialled call through to his brother, Drax swung round to look at her while he waited for Vere to answer. She looked uncertain and slightly overwhelmed. That was good. He wanted to ensure that he kept the upper hand, and the slight apprehension she was betraying reinforced his confidence in what he was doing. He was pretty sure she didn’t speak Arabic, but just in case he swung back to face his desk, away from her, keeping his voice low as he answered Vere’s, ‘Yes, Drax?’

‘I am just about to leave Zuran, Vere, and I am returning with a very special gift for you. Perhaps it will give you a hint as to what it is when I tell you that its price is above rubies.’ When his brother made no response Drax added softly, ‘I have found you the perfect temporary wife, and I am bringing her back to Dhurahn with me.’

‘What?’

Drax laughed. ‘It is true. I have found you a wife, Vere, and she is perfect for our purpose. Wait until you see her.’

‘Seeing her is all I shall have time for, Drax. I am leaving for London as soon as you are back.’

Vere had sounded more incredulous than pleased by his news, Drax admitted when the call ended. He frowned as he looked across at Sadie, who was still struggling to sit upright in a chair that was designed for reclining. She looked unsure of herself, and slightly stressed. His brother was a man who liked elegant, immaculate women—and, no matter how perfect she might be in other ways, as far as her personal appearance went she was not dressed or groomed in a way that would appeal to Vere.

Sensing that she was being watched, Sadie looked toward Drax, colouring up when she saw the way he was scrutinising her. It was not a flattering look she was being given—quite the opposite—and her face started to burn.

‘I have some business to attend to before we take off,’ Drax told her. ‘But it won’t take more than half an hour. Beyond this office there is a private suite, which includes a bedroom and a bathroom.’

‘Yes, I know. The steward has already told me that,’ Sadie interrupted him hurriedly, wondering if she looked as flustered and uncomfortable as she felt. The truth was that she simply wasn’t used to sexy, powerful men telling her in drawling, wickedly sensual voices about bedrooms and bathrooms being on hand, should she require them.

The now familiar lift of one dark eyebrow signalled its owner’s disdainful reaction to her interruption.

‘Excellent. I appreciate that you left the al Sawars’ in some haste, and that you may wish to refresh yourself and change your clothes prior to our arrival in Dhurahn, when I hope to be able to introduce you to my brother before he leaves for London. Ali will show you where everything is, and bring your bag to you, should you need it. And now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to a small matter of business I have overlooked.’

He was leaving her here alone on the plane? She had to fight not to spring up and cling to him, begging not to be abandoned. Abandoned? By a man she barely knew? She was being totally ridiculous.

But he had taken control of her life, Sadie recognised as Ali salaamed him out of the doorway, and received another of those regal inclinations of Drax’s dark head in response. And in doing so he had thrust her into a kind of lifestyle in which she felt totally alien and insecure.

And was she being over-sensitive, or had he been hinting that she looked as though she was in need of a change of clothes? He had mentioned that she would meet his brother. Meet him, or be inspected and then potentially rejected by him because of her appearance? Did it matter if she was? The extent to which she felt mortified by the thought of being considered not smart enough to work for the Rulers of Dhurahn told her that it did. And yet hadn’t she always despised the attitude of men like her stepfather, who judged others on their outer appearance and their material possessions?

There was a big difference between being judged for one’s physical beauty or lack of it and being considered unkempt and slightly scruffy, Sadie told herself. To be fair, she knew that the majority of employers in the financial sector preferred their employees to look smart and businesslike.

She reached down for her handbag, intending to open it and find a mirror to check to see if she looked as bad as she was beginning to feel, but before her fingers had curled round its handle Ali had materialised at her side, holding a tray on which she could see a full glass of pale, bubbling champagne and a plate of deliciously mouthwatering canapés. At the sight of her food her stomach gave a betraying rumble, which Ali effected not to notice.

‘His Highness informed me that you may wish to use the guest suite. Please allow me to show you.’ He had bent down and picked up her handbag before Sadie could stop him, leaving her with no real option other than to trot obediently alongside him as he guided her through the office-cum-lounge area into a narrow corridor that led to a pair of closed doors.

‘This is the guest suite,’ Ali told her, somehow managing to open the door while still carrying the tray and her handbag. ‘The door next to it leads to the private suite of Their Highnesses. It is kept locked at all times, unless Their Highnesses specify otherwise.’

A subtle warning to her not to think of going snooping around to see what the Royal suite looked like? Sadie wondered as Ali held open the door for her to precede him into the guest suite.

To her amazement, it contained not only a large double bed but a wall of fitted cupboards and a built-in dressing table, plus two chairs and a small table. In the adjoining bathroom there was full-size shower and a basin.

Sadie looked at the shower. The thought of standing under it and washing the dust of Zuran off her hair and body was tempting—and not just because her skin felt so grubby and gritty from her hot walk. There would be something metaphorically beneficial about having a clean, fresh start to her life and her new job.

She would need a change of clothes, though. She had no idea where her case was, but as though he had read her mind Ali put the tray down on the table, placing her handbag beneath it, and then went to open the cupboard doors. Inside were her clothes, neatly hung up and looking undeniably tired and out of place in their luxurious new setting. A bit like her?

‘Thank you, Ali,’ she said to the hovering steward.

‘You wish me perhaps to prepare the shower for you?’ he asked politely.

‘What? Oh, no…no. I can manage, thank you,’ Sadie assured him swiftly.

It was silly of her to feel so overwhelmed. The Al Sawars had employed a large staff, and Monika’s personal maid had done everything for her including running her bath. Sadie knew that.

Was it safe to have a shower now, while they were on the ground? she wondered. What would happen if they took off while she was in it? She had visions of water sloshing everywhere, ruining the carpets and perhaps even flooding into the forbidden Royal suite. S

he looked uncertainly at Ali.

‘Is it all right to use the shower now?’ she asked him self-consciously. ‘I mean, before we take off?’