Beth grimaced as she caught sight of herself clattering along the fabulous corridor in her five-inch heels. There were floor-to-ceiling mirrors set into the golden walls, so there was no escaping the truth. No escaping her bodyguard, either! They had sent a fierce-looking woman to collect her. Did she wear a gun too? Beth wondered as she struggled to keep up. Shoes that had seemed such a good idea back at the store were killing her now. She might be short, but she always wore flats so she could scoot around finding things for her customers. Heels this high demanded the skill of a tightrope walker-skill she definitely didn't possess. 'Can you slow down a bit, please?' she begged as her stern-looking companion put on a spurt of speed.
The woman didn't answer, and as she had introduced herself as one of the Dowager Sheikha's personal attendants Beth thought she had better not push it. Personal scary person, Beth decided-definitely not someone you'd want to get on the wrong side of. The woman couldn't have made it clearer that she was used to escorting royalty.
'While I feel like a chicken in a bandage,' Beth muttered, using her head to propel herself along. Graceful didn't come in to it. Majestic? Forget it. She was a shop assistant at the palace under sufferance, and the Sheikha's attendant wasn't going to let her forget it any time soon.
The pace they were walking at made Beth's heart beat even faster. Her hair had started to fall down, and fronds of it were sticking to her face. As if that wasn't bad enough, she had chatted up the Sheikh of Sheikhs as if he were a beach boy. And she had seen him naked! What would the Dowager Sheikha make of that? How was she supposed to look at His Majesty now? What if she couldn't control herself? What if she started giggling?
As they stopped in front of two gigantic doors, men dressed in flowing robes opened them. Beth acknowledged them both with a smile and a cheery greeting, which only brought a stony look of disapproval to her chaperon's face. That was the least of Beth's worries. The ballroom was crowded, and was she imagining it or had it gone utterly silent at the sight of her? No, she wasn't imagining it. Everyone had turned to stare. There must be spies everywhere in a palace, Beth thought, noticing servants whispering together. This was a real international gathering with 'high and mighties' from every land, and enough diamonds flashing to sink a ship. Had one of these people seen her on the beach with the Sheikh, or had their servants reported her? Did they think there was an ulterior motive to her being here? Did they think her win was a fix, just a ruse, to bring her to Q'Adar so the Sheikh could enjoy her?
Beth shivered at the thought of what must be going through people's minds. But as the woman swept ahead of her she knew she must pull herself together fast. Tossing back her ruined hair, she firmed her jaw, sending the fresh flower the maid had so carefully fixed tumbling over her eye. She brushed it back and tipped her chin, and started forward again. Beth couldn't know that a keen black gaze was fixed on her with interest from behind a gilded screen.
She had been sitting at a dark table in a forgotten corner of the ballroom for nearly an hour. And she wanted to chat with someone. She didn't want to be stuck away like this, like last week's dirty washing, as if she was something to put out of the way and forget-and with the Dowager's Sheikha's sidekick glaring at her if she so much as crossed her legs. She needed to chat. If she was going to work off her nerves, she needed to move about. Why had they invited her if the organisers couldn't even be bothered to check up on her and see that she was okay? She would have arranged things differently in Liverpool-everyone would have got a proper welcome.
As yet another waiter studiously ignored her Beth decided enough was enough; she was parched, and if she didn't have a glass of water soon … She was not going to sit here a moment longer and be ignored. She was an ambassador too-for the Khalifa stores-and as such she had no intention of hiding in the shadows feeling sorry for herself.
Beth would have carried off her intentions brilliantly had she been accustomed to wearing five-inch heels, but as it was she tripped at the edge of the dance floor, right in front of an amazingly tall and pretty princess. At least, Beth assumed the girl must be a princess, judging by the group of people standing around her tutting, and the fact that Beth was blinded by diamonds when she looked up. 'I'm so sorry … ' She tried scrambling to her feet, but only made it to all fours with her rump sticking high in the air because her stiletto heels stubbornly refused to find purchase on the marble floor. Meanwhile the princess and her attendants skirted round her, as if she was a dog's doodle, before sweeping off. It took a young girl who had been watching all this to help her to her feet.
'Thank you,' Beth said gratefully, brushing herself down as the girl steadied her.
'Are you sure you're all right? You're more than welcome to join us at our table … ' The girl pointed to where a group of young people were sitting. 'We've been watching you,' she admitted. 'We hated the way everyone stared at you when you came in-'
'Don't worry about me,' Beth said, pretending her nose wasn't stinging with the threat of tears. 'I'm fine … ' I can do this, she was thinking, though her ballgown was ripped now, and the flower from her hair was lying crushed on the floor. 'But thank you for coming over to help me,' she said, finding her customary grin.
'Well, if you change your mind … ?'
'I'll remember,' Beth promised. 'And thank you, again … ' Composing herself, she looked around, and this time no one returned her gaze. It was as if she had become invisible. No one wanted to get involved with a nobody, Beth gathered, except for her new friend. They shared a smile before the girl sat down again with her companions.
Blowing the hair out of her eyes, Beth wondered what to do for a moment, and then decided that watching would probably teach her more than anything. Her first thought was that the scent of wealth was stifling, and she could tell that Khal's guests had really gone to town on the platinum-and-diamond theme of the ball. But strip all the glitz and glitter away and they were just people the same as she was, probably with many of the same worries and concerns. At least that was what she thought, until she noticed people talking behind their hands and jostling for position in the final minutes before Khal arrived. Some of the women were licking their bottom lip and adjusting their dress to show more cleavage in preparation for His Majesty's arrival-which made weird feelings jostle inside her, almost as if she was feeling protective of Khal.
Which she did, Beth realised. What did Khal see in all this? What did it mean? What did it add up to? As far as she could tell everyone was after him for something, and this ball was just another opportunity for people to advance themselves.
Being an outsider, even of this shallow group, wasn't nice. There was only one table where people were having fun for its own sake, as far as Beth could see and that was the table where the young girl who had rescued her was sitting. Beth wished now that she had accepted the invitation to go and sit with them. As it was, she felt like leaving to start packing for her return home. But she wouldn't, because she was here to represent her colleagues at the Khalifa stores. She would hold her head up high and remember that the owner of those stores might be the Sheikh of Sheikhs in Q'Adar, but he was also her boss-as well as the driving force behind the Khalifa brand-and this employee had no intention of letting Khal or her co-workers down.
CHAPTER THREE
HAVING surveyed the ballroom from his private viewing-area and seen what he wanted to, he dismissed his entourage and walked alone in the gardens. He always centred himself before an appearance, and tonight he craved that inner calm more than ever. Because he had allowed himself to be distracted by some young girl newly arrived from England, and however hard he tried to concentrate his thoughts kept returning to Beth Tracey Torrance.