The Sheik's Unsuitable Bride

Zahir had not slept.

He and James had worked through most of the night, putting the finishing touches to details that had been a year in the planning.

It wasn’t lack of sleep that blackened his early morning mood, however, but an email from Atiya, his youngest sister.

She’d written, full of excitement, about his forthcoming wedding, eager to let him know what she thought of each of the bridal prospects on their mother’s ‘shortlist’, which was awaiting his return. Since Atiya knew them all and was evidently thrilled to the core at the prospect of him marrying one of her dearest friends, she had taken immense pleasure in describing each of them in detail so that he would have something other than their mother’s opinion-what, after all, did mothers know?-on which to make his choice.

This one, apparently, had beautiful hair. That one a stunning figure. A third wasn’t so pretty but had the loveliest smile and a truly sweet nature.

It had, he thought, all the charm of a cattle show, with him as the prize bull. It was, however, a timely reminder of who he was. What was expected of him.

Which did not include dancing in the street with his enchanting chauffeur.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘DI…’

Sadie had been waiting for her and she crossed to the office, assuming that the summons heralded a return to normal and trying to be glad. Sheikh Zahir had no doubt regretted his impulse to kiss her, dance with her-fooling around with the ‘help’ was always a mistake-and conceded that James Pierce might have had a point. Given him the go-ahead to call Sadie and arrange for another driver.

Which, or so the small inner voice of reason assured her, was a very good thing. She was still fighting off the memory of that dream. It would save embarrassment all round.

She just wished her inner voice could sound more convincing. But then her inner voice hadn’t felt the power of that final look, a connection that went soul deep…

‘What’s the plan, boss?’ she asked with determined brightness. ‘Back to normal is it? You should have phoned, I could have come in earlier.’

Sadie shook her head. ‘I’ve got someone in to cover the minibus for the rest of the week. Jack is still hors de combat and, while he’s promising he’ll be in tomorrow, I can’t see him being fit for anything but local jobs until next week. Are you going to be okay for another late one?’

Zahir hadn’t pulled the plug?

The fact the brightness was no longer forced, but blindingly genuine, warned her that she was playing with fire. But it was so long since she’d been warm…

‘How late? Freddy has a parents’ evening at school this evening.’

‘Well, let’s see. Sheikh Zahir has to be back in London by six so, if you could handle that part of his day, I can find someone to cover the evening.’

‘No problem, then.’

‘Apparently not. I’ll give you a call later to let you know who it is so that you keep Sheikh Zahir in the picture. And I’ll write you in for the rest of this job.’

Diana swallowed. ‘Thank you, Sadie. I appreciate your confidence.’ Maybe, today, she’d live up to it.

Sadie, oblivious, smiled. ‘You’ve earned it. Enjoy your day at the seaside.’

‘The seaside?’

Sadie handed over the paperwork. ‘Sheikh Zahir is visiting a boatyard and marina, apparently.’

‘Really?’ Obviously her idea of non-stop work and Sheikh Zahir’s idea of it did not coincide. ‘Well, great,’ she said, taking the worksheet to check out where they were going, wishing it was Freddy she was taking for a day on the beach. Somehow she couldn’t see James Pierce taking off his shoes, rolling up his trouser legs and going for a paddle.

Zahir, on the other hand…

She refused to go with that image. No more of that, my girl, she told herself. Behave yourself. Just concentrate on all the extra hours it will mean. The extra money. She might be able to manage something a bit special for her and Freddy in the half-term holiday. A short break at Disney-land Paris, perhaps, if she was lucky enough to grab a cheap last-minute deal.

Or maybe she’d be better advised putting the money in her savings account for his future. Except, of course that children didn’t understand the concept of the ‘future’. For them there was only now.

‘Okay?’ Sadie asked, when she didn’t move.

‘Fine. I was just wondering if you wanted me to bring you back a stick of rock,’ she joked.

‘I’ll pass, thanks,’ Sadie said with a grin. ‘Besides, I doubt the kind of marina that a sheikh would patronize has much call for bright pink candy, do you?’

A timely reminder, should she need one, that he lived in a different world from the one she’d been born into. A reminder she’d do well to keep front and centre next time he looked at her. Smiled at her. Murmured something in that seductive voice.

Maybe she should invest in a pair of earplugs…

Sheikh Zahir was standing on the footpath talking to James Pierce when she pulled in to the front of the hotel three minutes before ten.

He was dressed casually in a cream linen jacket, softly pleated chinos, a dark brown band-collar shirt left open at the neck, with a slim leather document case hanging loosely from one hand. James Pierce, on the other hand, was giving no quarter to a day by the sea. He was dressed in a pinstripe suit with a sober silk tie-full city-slicker gear-with the laptop which never seemed to leave his side clamped firmly in his fist.

She groaned.

James Pierce had had it in for her from the moment he’d set eyes on her and would no doubt have some sarcastic remark all lined up to deliver on the subject of having been kept waiting; she was sure the fact that they were early would cut no ice with him.

He’d grumbled about being kept waiting last night; anyone would think she’d loitered, had stopped for a burger or something, instead of taking a straight there-and-back run from Mayfair.

But as Zahir caught sight of her-no smile of any kind-he said something to the other man, then, as Top Hat opened the door, stepped into the back of the car.

Alone.

James Pierce, having taken a moment to give her what could only be described as a ‘look’-what was his problem?-turned and walked back into the hotel.

Which meant that they were going to spend the entire day alone together?

Be careful what you wish for…

‘In your own time, Metcalfe,’ Zahir said, when she didn’t immediately pull away.

‘Isn’t Mr Pierce coming with us?’ she asked a touch desperately.

‘He can’t spare the time. He has contracts, leases to sign. A lawyer’s work is never done.’ Unable to help herself, she checked the mirror. He was waiting for her, his look thoughtful. ‘Disappointed, Metcalfe? Did you manage to break the ice and make friends when you picked him up last night?’

‘We didn’t dance, if that’s what you mean,’ she said. So much for keeping her distance. Being professional. ‘I didn’t want to drive off and leave him if he’d just gone back inside to collect something he’d forgotten,’ she said in an attempt to retrieve the situation.

‘Forgotten?’ Zahir marginally raised a single brow. ‘Are you suggesting that he’s fallible?’

‘Oh…No…’

Too late she realised that he was being ironic.

Oh, Lord…

She pulled out into Park Lane, glad of the turmoil of the London traffic to keep her occupied, not that there were