‘Best behaviour?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your lover has come back to pick you up. But you can’t get into his car again, or be alone with him or any other man now. I’m a very suspicious guy and I will have you watched from the moment you leave this house until you reach Bakhar. If there is so much as a hint of flirtation or questionable behaviour, the deal is off and the eviction proceedings will go ahead.’
Tilda stared back at him in mute incredulity and horror. ‘You’re threatening me.’
‘I am warning you that if you disappoint me you will suffer punitive consequences. Get rid of your elderly chauffeur now. The clock is already ticking,’ Rashad murmured with lethal cool.
Tilda dug into her bag for her mobile phone and rang Evan in haste. She told him that it would be quite some time until she was free to leave and that there was absolutely no point in him waiting for her.
‘Excellent. I was always convinced that with the correct approach you would find it very easy to follow instructions,’ Rashad drawled lazily.
Tilda quivered with rage and frustration. She felt as if a tornado were locked inside her and fighting for exit. But she dared not explode; she dared not offend or antagonise him because he had the power to rip her family apart. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him. Instead, loathing seethed inside her and she had to hold it in.
Someone knocked on the door and entered to address Rashad in his own language.
‘I have to leave for the airport,’ Rashad imparted. ‘I will have you conveyed home. I’ll be in touch with further directions.’
Her silvery fair head lifted, turquoise eyes burning brilliant blue. ‘Yes, Your Royal Highness. Anything else?’
‘I’ll be sure to let you know.’ Emanating a positive force field of masculine power and authority and untouched by her silent hostility, Rashad sent her a shuttered glance of cool, calm satisfaction.
From the drawing-room window above, Tilda watched him climb into his big black limo. Ten minutes later she got into the Mercedes that had been ordered to take her home. All she would let herself think about was the story she would tell her family. She practised a breezy smile and a cheerful voice. Her surrender on Rashad’s terms would be totally wasted if her mother suspected even a hint of the unlovely truth.
‘I’ve got fantastic news. Rashad has just offered me a terrific job,’ she told Beth Morrison when she got home again. ‘It will pay well enough to eventually clear all the money that we owe.’
The older woman was initially astonished, but her palpable relief soon silenced her surprised questions. ‘Of course! You came first on your accountancy course, so Rashad will be getting a top-notch employee. I’m so glad I wasn’t wrong about him. I always thought Rashad was a decent and trustworthy young man,’ Beth contended happily. ‘Where will you be working?’
‘Bakhar.’
‘Oh, my goodness, this new job will be abroad! I should’ve thought of that possibility,’ her mother exclaimed. ‘We’ll all miss you so much. Are you sure this is the right thing for you?’
‘Oh, totally.’ Tilda kept right on smiling although her jaw was beginning to ache.
Her supposed new career move was the sole topic of discussion amongst her siblings that evening. As none of them was aware of the severity of the family financial problems, the assumption was that Tilda had won her dream job. ‘I suppose working abroad will be a nice change for you,’ Aubrey, her brother, commented vaguely before he went back upstairs to swot. A year her junior, he was exceptionally clever and, like many intellectual people, quite removed from the practicalities of life.
Her teenaged brother, James, gave her an impressed look. ‘You can earn a fortune tax-free in the Middle East!’
‘Will you go to work on a camel every morning?’ her little sister, Megan, asked hopefully.
Her other sister, Katie, was more thoughtful and less easily convinced by the surface show of normality. As the sisters got ready for bed in the room they shared, the teenager’s blue eyes were troubled. ‘What was it like for you seeing Rashad again? Didn’t you just hate him?’
‘No, I got over all that a long time ago,’ Tilda whispered, not wanting to waken Megan.
‘But you’ve never really gone out with anyone since him.’
Turning her head to the wall, Tilda shut her eyes tight. ‘That’s nothing to do with Rashad. I mean, relationships aren’t for everyone,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve had a few dates-they just haven’t led anywhere.’
‘Because you’re not interested…the guys always are-’
‘I haven’t got time for a man.’
‘You had time for Rashad when he was around.’
Stinging tears foamed up behind Tilda’s lowered lids. She swallowed back the ache in her throat and told herself not to be so foolish. She then lay awake for half of the night fretting about how her family would manage a hundred and one different tasks without her help. She was also aware that she had to sort out Scott. Those twin concerns screened out the even bigger worry about how she would handle Rashad. The next morning she handed in her notice at work and when she had finished for the day she caught the bus to her stepfather’s house.
‘What do you want?’ Scott demanded menacingly on the doorstep.
‘If you ever try to take money from my mother again, I’ll report you to the police,’ Tilda told him. ‘If you threaten or hurt any member of my family, I’ll also go straight to the police, so leave us alone!’