As he prowled closer he was forced to shut out the seductive beauty of his homeland. There was much in Q'Adar to tempt the senses, and it would be easy to slip into self-indulgent ways. A panorama of exquisite loveliness tempted him to lower his guard and linger. When he returned to the palace he would be greeted by sights of unimaginable splendour-every wall at the Palace of the Moon was decorated with gold leaf, and the doors were studded with precious stones. Beguiling perfumes would lure him into thinking of erotic pleasures, while music would thrum a constant siren-song through his senses.
The only sticking point for him at the palace was his mother. Hoping he would marry soon, she had assembled the world's most beautiful women for his perusal. Every royal house was represented-and there was no doubt her efforts had pleased the corrupt sheikhs, who didn't care about his choice of bedmate just so long as he was distracted and left them alone. What they had failed to realise was that his mistress was work, and that here in Q'Adar there was much to do.
Beth watched the man bury his face in the towel with a mixture of apprehension and fascination. There was something about his stillness that warned her to be wary. She couldn't shake off a feeling of uneasiness. Maybe he did know she was here, watching him. Maybe he wasn't just burying his face in a towel, but quietening his body in order to listen to his senses. As he lifted his head the onshore breeze caught his thick black hair and tossed it around his face. He was magnificent. She'd never seen anyone like him before, and she held her breath as he fixed the towel around his waist.
He started walking-thankfully, away from her. Cutting at right angles to the beach, he disappeared out of sight behind some more rocks …
Letting out her breath in a ragged stream, Beth relaxed. What an experience that had been! She wished there had been a sculpter on hand, or an artist, someone capable of capturing his likeness and sharing it with the world …
Beth shrieked as something cold and hard pressed into the back of her neck. Was it a gun? She was too frightened to turn and find out.
'Get up,' a clipped male voice instructed. 'Get up slowly, and turn around.'
She did as he asked, stumbling in the sand, only to find the man on the beach confronting her. 'I was told I would be safe here,' she blurted out. 'The new Sheikh has reserved this beach for his staff.' Beth knew that she was rambling as tears of fright filled her eyes. She couldn't see the gun, but knew it must be somewhere. 'I've got a permit … ' No, she hadn't! She had changed out of her jeans into a sundress without pockets. 'Don't you speak English?' she blurted, wondering if those few phrases were all he had.
'As well as you, I imagine,' the man replied in a voice that was barely accented.
Beth found herself confronting the hardest, coldest eyes she'd ever seen, set in a face of savage beauty, but affront had taken the place of her anger. The man was twice her size, and much older than she was. She firmed her jaw. He had no need to threaten her with a gun. 'Is it usual to intimidate guests to your country?'
She had guts, he'd give her that, but she had been spying on him, and she mustn't be allowed to think him an easy target. 'Do you make a point of invading other people's privacy?' he snapped back.
Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of rose, telling him that emotion came easily to her. In that they were very different. But the moment of embarrassment swiftly passed, and now this barefoot intruder with her wind-tangled hair and flimsy beach-dress was shooting fire at him from crystal-blue eyes. She was much younger than he had first thought, and her skin had the texture of a downy peach. She was new to the unforgiving Arabian sun, and instinctively he took a step forward to back her into the shade.
'Don't you come near me!' she warned him, holding out her tiny hands to ward him off.
She was frightened, but still determined to put up a fight. And then he noticed that her small, straight nose had a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge …
Irrelevant. He was surprised that he'd noticed such a thing. Where had she come from, and how had she slipped past his guards? She wasn't part of his world or she would have been recognised him immediately. She must have drafted in to help with the celebrations. But, if that was the case, why was she sunning herself while everyone else was working? 'Does your supervisor know you're here?'
'Does yours?'
He recoiled at her impudence. Then he recognised the accent. Natives of Liverpool weren't noted for holding back. 'I asked the question first,' he said evenly. 'Have you considered the possibility that your supervisor might be worried about you?'
A crease appeared between her upswept taupe brows as she considered this. 'It seems to me that yours has more cause to be worried about you.'
'How do you work that out?' he said, deciding he would play along.
'Do they know you bring a gun to the beach?'
'A gun?' He had to hold back his astonishment as well as his amusement. Holding out his hands, palms flat, he showed her he had no weapons-concealed or otherwise-unless she felt like searching under his towel, of course. 'I was merely attempting to attract your attention,' he told her.
'Oh, I see,' she said, catching on. 'With one sea-cooled finger?' Her mouth firmed into an angry line. 'So you don't use a gun, but you do assault guests to your country-well?' she demanded. 'Don't I deserve the courtesy of a reply when you've frightened me half to death?'
He was still adapting to this radical change to the way people usually addressed him when his attention was drawn to her full rosebud-lips, and the difficulty she was having keeping them pressed flat in an expression of affront. He wanted to smile, because she was so young and so indignant, but he knew better than to prolong the encounter. 'My apologies,' he said mildly. As he spoke he touched his right hand to his breast and then to his forehead. 'You are right to feel distress. As a visitor to my land you are of course my honoured guest … ' As the silky words worked their ancient magic, he saw her eyes darken with more than interest. She wasn't so keen to get away now.
'Apology accepted,' she said. 'So, you work here too?'
Rather than answer he watched the flush rising on her cheeks. Her slight frame and pert breasts had made his senses stir. 'That's right,' he said at last. 'I just got here.'
'Oh, like me,' she cut in, forgetting to be angry with him. 'I expect you've come for the celebrations.' She glanced towards the palace. 'They told me a lot of new staff had been hired.'
'Did they?'
She gave him a long, considering look, and then decided to trust him with a little more. 'Q'Adar's the most beautiful country, isn't it?'
He could only agree. The sea was jade green with a white-lace frill, and his Palace of the Moon had turned rose pink in the mellow light of late afternoon.
'But it's not the flash that makes it so lovely, is it?' she demanded bluntly. 'Though there's plenty of that around, from what I've seen. Thing is, ostentation's commonplace when you can see it on the telly any time you want.'
'Ostentation?' He had thought the palace overblown when he'd returned to it after an absence too, but he wasn't sure how he felt about hearing criticism of it from a stranger.
'It's the scenery that gets you, isn't it?' she went on, gesturing around. 'I think it's a combination of beach, sea, and the warmth of the people that makes Q'Adar so special.'
She was making it increasingly hard for him to find fault with her, especially when she added, 'I think it's the people most of all.' She stopped then and blushed, and started fiddling with her hair, as if aware that she was keeping him. But then wariness shaded her eyes as she took on board the fact that she shouldn't be engrossed in conversation with a man she didn't know-a man who might even pose a danger to her …
'I won't hurt you,' he said, lifting his hands.
She shrugged, a little defiant gesture to cover for the predicament in which she found herself, he guessed. And then a horn sounded somewhere in the palace, and she jumped. 'What was that?' Still gasping for air, she stared at him for answers.