Desert Fantasies(34)

‘I’m sorry. Please take a seat.’ She pulled at the chain around her neck. ‘I should have said that before. I’m afraid I’m a little nervous.’

That devastating smiled widened. ‘There is no need to be.’

‘You clearly don’t know Minty. I’m no good at this type of thing.’ Polly took her water with her and sat back down in the corner of the sofa. ‘She’d do this so much better than I can.’

Rashid chose the sofa opposite. His eyes were still firmly resting on her face. It was unsettling. And that was putting it mildly.

‘Take it to him.’ Minty’s final words to her were echoing in her head. She was fairly sure her friend hadn’t factored in spilling water over a valuable antique, tripping over her words and generally not being able to think of anything anyway. Her mind was a complete blank.

And all the while those blue eyes watched her. Polly looked away and gently chewed at her bottom lip.

‘I would be interested to know how you come to be involved?’ he prompted, as though he knew she was never going to be able to get started alone.

He had an amazing voice, too. His accent wasn’t so dissimilar to the ones she heard every day, but the way he put his words together, the stress he placed on the syllables was certainly different. Unmistakably foreign despite his English-public-school education.

‘I suppose it’s because it was my idea. In a way. Although I didn’t expect it would happen.’ She raised her eyes back up to his face. ‘Minty’s the film-maker. She wants to make an hour-and-a-half programme which could be broken up into three half-hour slots. Something like that.’

His feet moved and Polly found herself looking down at his highly polished Italian shoes. She was sure they were Italian. Expensive and very beautiful. Everything about him screamed an understated wealth. The kind of wealth that could buy a racehorse like Golden Mile as an individual rather than as part of a consortium. Even in her stepbrother’s world that was unusual.

And here she was, sitting in the North Sitting Room with her heart in her mouth and her future, it would seem, resting on her ability to convince this man it was a good idea.

‘With you presenting?’

‘Yes, that’s the idea.’

Rashid inclined his head. He was like a panther. The thought slid into her head. That was a far better analogy than a spider. He was all contained power, unpredictable and dangerous.

‘I know we’d be the first film crew allowed into Amrah—’

‘The second.’

‘Second?’

‘When my grandfather became King he was eager to open our country to the West. Fourteen years ago he allowed a programme to be made and the result was deeply offensive to both my family and our people.’

Talk about wanting the ground to open up beneath you. ‘I didn’t know that.’

Any other man and she’d have asked what had been offensive about it, but she didn’t feel she could. There was an impenetrable barrier around Rashid Al Baha.

Polly moistened her lips and tried to find the words that would convince him that their intention was not to offend. Not in any way.

‘Our programme would focus on Elizabeth Lewis’s journey across Amrah in the late eighteen eighties. We’d like to retrace her steps, see some of the things she describes.’

‘Such as?’

‘The desert. Fortresses.’ This was so difficult. She was floundering and she knew it. She hadn’t thought much about what she would see as the decision wasn’t hers. ‘Camel-riding. Maybe even camel-racing. I believe she did that at one point.’

Rashid sat back on the sofa. ‘An important part of Amrah’s culture, but not one that is generally looked on favourably in the West.’

‘But the king has forbidden child jockeys by law. It—it was that,’ she struggled on, ‘which people found difficult to accept. Over here, I mean.’

Was she imagining a hint of a smile in those cold blue eyes? He really was the most unfathomable man. But, if his reputation with women had any basis in reality, he must be able to use that smile to good effect sometimes.

What would that feel like? If Rashid Al Baha looked at her with desire? With wanting? She felt a slightly hysterical bubble of laughter start in the pit of her stomach and spiral upwards. If His Highness Prince Rashid bin Khalid bin Abdullah Al Baha turned his notorious playboy charm on her she’d run in the opposite direction. He was an absolutely terrifying man.

‘I see. It is helpful to have it explained.’ The smile in his eyes became more definite.

Polly just hoped she’d wake up in a few minutes and realise this whole conversation had never happened.

Of course he didn’t need her to tell him what the international community thought about child jockeys. He was a highly educated man. A leader of men. He’d probably even been instrumental in implementing the ban.

She could feel the heat rise in her face and a dry, nervous tickle irritate the back of her throat. Just wait ’til she got Minty on the phone tomorrow. If it turned out she had known about the ‘offensive’ programme made earlier Polly was going to personally shoot her.

‘What I meant to say was that we wouldn’t be saying anything…contentious. It’s more a human-interest type of thing. A personal journey.’

‘Personal?’

‘Yes. Well, yes. That’s the plan.’

‘But not yours?’

She shrugged. ‘Only in as much as Elizabeth Lewis is my great-great-grandmother.’

‘Your great-great-grandmother?’

‘On my father’s side.’

A frown snapped across his forehead. ‘That wasn’t in the paperwork.’

‘I suppose because it’s not really relevant, is it?’

For a moment Rashid said nothing. ‘Her legacy is still remembered in Amrah.’

Polly risked a smile. ‘I still don’t know very much about her, but I gather she was…ahead of her time.’

This time she was left in no doubt that his eyes were smiling, but his voice was still dry. ‘An unusual woman.’

Did he consider that a good or a bad thing?

‘That’s it, really. Minty and I made a short programme on Shelton Castle about two years ago—’

‘I’ve seen it.’

‘You have?’ she asked, her eyes nervously flicking up. ‘Anyway, it was fun—and quite successful in ratings terms so Minty found it easy to get the funding for this one. And, well, th-that really is it…’ She tailed off lamely. ‘She’s put it all together and I know she’ll be more than happy to talk it over with you. I’m just there to provide a personal connection to the subject.’

And because Minty was quite determined her friend would find a life for herself away from Shelton. There was no need to mention that. It made her sound incredibly wet.

Besides, Minty might change her mind when she heard how this conversation had gone. If Rashid had even the slightest inclination to open his country to a film crew again he’d want to be sure the resulting programme would be well executed and she hadn’t done much to instil him with confidence.

Rashid stood up in one fluid movement. It was that panther thing again. He was all restrained power and energy, his mind finding an outlet in movement, and yet she would never describe him as agitated. In fact, you couldn’t really imagine anything much throwing this man off his balance.

All of a sudden she didn’t care one way or the other. She’d done her best and that was all anyone could do. If this didn’t come off something would. Life was like that. It couldn’t go on for ever without a bend in the road.

Polly finished off the last of her water and stood up, cradling the glass in two hands. ‘W-what do you think? Can we come?’

His blue eyes flashed across at her. ‘There would need to be conditions.’

‘Of course. Not that I’d have anything to do with any of that. But Minty was wonderful when she made the programme on Shelton. Everyone involved was really considerate of the castle and there was nothing intrusive or unpleasant about the experience.’

Much to her annoyance Polly could hear a tremor in her voice. She wanted to sound confident and yet, somehow, in front of this man it wasn’t possible.

‘She’s your friend.’ He brushed her comment aside as though it wasn’t worth nothing. It was the spur she needed.

‘The programme on Shelton was one of five Minty made about different English stately homes. No one complained. She’s a talented and very successful documentary film maker.’ Polly raised her chin. ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, forcing herself to meet his eyes. There was nothing to see. Not by so much as a flicker did he give away what he was thinking.

‘Why now?’

She’d been braced for an outright rejection and his question surprised her. ‘Now? You want to know why now?’ she echoed, and then gathered herself together. ‘Because of the weather. If we want to film in the desert—’

Rashid cut her off. ‘I will think about it,’ he said, turning away and striding across the room.

Polly stood, slightly stunned as the door shut behind him. She drew in a shaky breath. Heaven help her. That had been scary. But…he had left her with a little bit of hope—and, even ten minutes ago, that was more than she’d expected.