Reclaimed by the Powerful Sheikh

He stopped walking and fixed clear blue eyes on hers. ‘Don’t apologise. Honesty is a rare, refreshing trait in this world we live in.’

They reached the door that led into the area where the guests were to wait before the ball was declared open. In a moment she would have to hand over the invitation for her name to be confirmed on the guest list.

Her heart pounded.

She needed to slip away.

Before she could think of an excuse to flee, Giannis took hold of the hand tucked into his arm and brought it to his lips. His eyes sparkled as he razed the lightest of kisses against the knuckles. ‘I have a couple of things I need to check on before the ball starts. I will find you.’

Then he bowed his head and turned on his heel, leaving nothing but the scent of his spicy cologne in his wake.

Tabitha slowly released the breath she’d been holding and closed her eyes.

Her heart still pounded, although whether that was an effect of the kiss on her hand or the close call she’d just had she couldn’t determine.

‘Are you coming in, miss?’

The uniformed guard had opened the door for her.

She swallowed.

It wasn’t too late. She didn’t have to do this.

But then she caught sight of a waiter holding a tray of champagne and the longing in her heart overshadowed the fear.

She could stay for one glass of champagne, she reasoned. That couldn’t do any harm. One glass of champagne and then, when the ball was declared open, slip away and return to her room and the safe anonymity of her servile life.

But she would have one glass of champagne first.

She stepped into a small holding room. Another uniformed guard stood on the other side of the door, a large tablet in his hand. Her heart almost stopped.

She recognised him. She’d spoken to him numerous times in the staff room.

There was not a flicker of recognition in his returning stare.

He greeted her with a polite smile. ‘May I see your invitation please, miss?’

Hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in her hand, she passed it to him.

He peered at it closely then turned his attention to his tablet until he found her name on the list. He pressed his finger to it then smiled again at her and nodded at the double doors at the other side of the room. ‘Guests are assembling through that door. Enjoy your evening, Miss Coulter.’

Air rushed out of her lungs.

Mrs Coulter had been right. The dress and the mask acted as the perfect disguise.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

Straightening her back, Tabitha held her head high. Yet another doorman opened the double doors for her to step through.

The noise she was greeted with from the reception room made her blink. The guests already congregated were in high spirits. Laughter and the buzz of excited chatter filled the air, melding with the music coming from the corner, where a pianist was playing a familiar tune.

She soaked up all of this in the time it took to step over the threshold.

A waitress holding a tray of champagne approached her.

Tabitha took a flute with a smile and restrained herself from tipping the contents down her throat in one swallow.

Whatever the circumstances of her life now, she’d been raised to be a lady. Ladies did not tip drinks down their necks.