‘You can call her,’ the Sheikh advised.
It was too late; Miss Francine would be in bed.
Bed.
The single word ricocheted around Millie’s head. Where was she going to sleep? The thought of spending the night—maybe many nights—on board the Sapphire was unnerving, to say the least.
‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had something to eat,’ Khalid predicted.
‘I doubt that somehow,’ she said, but her stomach grumbled on cue.
‘You’ll eat with me,’ he said, leading the way down the corridor.
With little choice, she followed him to the grand salon, where it was hardly possible to imagine that a party had taken place. Everything had been cleared away and calm order restored in the magnificent room.
She stared blankly at the phone as he handed it to her. ‘Miss Francine,’ he prompted, shaking her out of the trance. ‘Make your call and leave a message if she isn’t up. While you do that, I’ll arrange for refreshments.’
Miss Francine was not only awake, Millie discovered, but both thrilled and amused to hear from her charge. ‘Make the most of it,’ she said to Millie’s amazement.
‘But I’m alone with him,’ Millie exclaimed discreetly with a glance at the Sheikh.
‘Wonderful,’ Miss Francine enthused. ‘A world of women will envy you.’
‘What are you saying?’ Millie asked in the same hushed tone.
‘Just that life is full of choices, and you haven’t gone wrong so far, Millie Dillinger.’
‘I wish I had your confidence in me,’ Millie admitted. ‘When I boarded the Sapphire, I seemed to leave my common sense on shore.’
‘That’s your opinion,’ Miss Francine said firmly. ‘It won’t hurt you to unplug for a while, and it might do you a lot of good.’
By the time Millie ended the call, she felt that, if she hadn’t exactly been given a licence to maybe break a few boundaries, she did have the confidence of someone she trusted implicitly.
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of stewards bearing platters of delicious-looking food. ‘I can’t eat all this,’ Millie protested as they laid it out on the table.
‘Don’t worry. I’m here to help,’ Khalid assured her.
He took hold of a plate and handed it to her, but when she gripped it he held onto the other side so they were joined by a fragile china bridge. ‘I’m not—’
‘Hungry?’ he suggested. When her cheeks flamed red, he added softly, ‘Or do you feel guilty about being a stowaway on my ship?’
‘I thought I was your guest?’ Should his stern look be sending her pulse off the scale?
‘My guests have all left,’ he reminded her. ‘All except one. Don’t look so worried. There’s no charge for this cruise.’
And at least they’d get the chance to talk, Millie thought as he urged, ‘Eat. You need to keep up your strength.’
For what reason? she wondered. ‘Are you sure the Sapphire won’t be docking at a closer port than Khalifa?’ Her badly rattled nerves were clamouring for a solution.
‘Enjoy the trip,’ Sheikh Khalid recommended as he helped himself to food. ‘I’ll arrange for a private jet to fly you home when we’re done.’
‘When we’re done?’ Millie queried hoarsely. ‘I can’t just disappear off the grid. I’ve got a college course to complete.’ And a world of ugly memories to move past.
‘You’re on holiday from college,’ the Sheikh observed.
She was no longer surprised by what he knew, only that he cared enough to find out.
‘And as I said, I will place a private jet at your disposal. You can leave Khalifa whenever you choose.’
‘I’d rather take a commercial flight, thank you.’ She had no intention of putting herself in the Sheikh’s debt. ‘And if you can let me off at a closer port, that would be even better.’
‘Your virtue is quite safe with me,’ he said.
Was he mocking her? She couldn’t really see his eyes. His face was turned away from her.
‘You can have the guest suite, and the golden sheets,’ he added.
Huzzah, thought Millie, grimacing.
He turned in time to see her expression. ‘My friend Tadj has been detained on shore by your friend Lucy.’
This was getting worse and worse. Now she had to worry about Lucy.
Lucy could look after herself, Millie reminded herself. She was facing a more immediate problem. ‘I don’t even have a change of clothes.’
‘You’re wrong,’ the Sheikh told her. ‘Your closet is full.’
‘You planned this?’ she exclaimed with outrage.
Throwing up his hands in mock alarm, he gave a lazy shrug. ‘Designers from across the world have rushed to accommodate you.’
‘And you expect me to be grateful?’ she said. ‘I feel as if I’ve been manipulated all along.’
‘Touché, Ms Dillinger. Not much escapes you.’
‘You admit it?’ Millie exclaimed with incredulity.
The Sheikh didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘What use is massive wealth if it can’t be enjoyed? London is a rich source of luxury goods, and only a short hop by helicopter from King’s Dock.’
‘I’m going to my room.’
‘Please do,’ he invited with a gracious gesture towards the door. ‘I’m sure you won’t be disappointed with what you find there. Just don’t forget to come back and tell me what you think. And then we’ll talk,’ he promised with velvet charm.
Infuriating man! Just as he’d said, the fitted dressing room leading off the gilded stateroom was packed full of Milan’s finest clothe
s, Spain’s softest leather shoes, and the best of New York’s cutting-edge accessories...
And if that didn’t prove to be enough to persuade Millie Dillinger to relax and unwind, Khalid thought as he waited to hear Millie’s verdict, he would just have to think of something else. He was no saint, and had never pretended to be. Protecting Millie, versus seducing her, had long since passed its tipping point. She was no longer a child, but a hot-blooded woman, and there was a long ocean voyage ahead of them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN THE FOOD was cleared away and Millie had returned—acting cool, but still with the glow of pleasing discoveries reflected in her eyes—he persuaded her to walk out on the deck, where a sophisticated heating system ensured she wouldn’t be cold this far north, and subdued lighting permitted views of the night sky, as well as a wide swathe of restless sea.
‘I’d be happy in the staff quarters,’ she assured him as she leaned over the rail...still looking, still searching for the truth, he thought. ‘Save the guest suite for someone who appreciates golden sheets,’ she said, pulling back as a steward drew out a chair.
‘Relax. Enjoy yourself. Sit down,’ he encouraged. ‘There’s nowhere else to go.’
She angled her chin to stare up at him. ‘It isn’t easy to relax,’ she admitted.
‘I know,’ he said quietly.
* * *
She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. She had to stop. But how, when she only had to press her lips together to find they were still swollen from his kisses?
‘Don’t you want to experience something more exciting than a bunk bed dressed with white cotton for the duration of this trip?’ he asked, distracting her.
‘If that’s your opening gambit, I’m disappointed.’ Liar, Millie thought as her pulse careered out of control.
‘And I took you for an ambitious woman, Millie Dillinger.’
‘I am,’ she confirmed, ‘but I’ll get ahead on my own merit, thank you.’
The Sheikh smiled faintly. ‘So no golden sheets?’