Desert King, Pregnant Mistress(6)
She was more than the breath of fresh air he'd first thought her, much more. He might have known she would turn up to receive her trophy in spite of her embarrassment at the beach. He'd even had to admit to a rush of pleasure when he spotted her-as if emotion of any kind was possible for the ruler of Q'Adar. But Beth was a one-off, an original, and she had made him smile. She was plucky and unsophisticated, and completely untutored in the ways of the world. His lips tugged harder when he pictured her marching away from him. Who did that? Who ever turned their back on him? For all her youth and innocence her passions ran to the extreme, and she wasn't afraid to show them, which was a novelty. But now he must put her out of his mind. He was about to put on a show of strength, and couldn't be distracted by thoughts of relationships for which he had no time. If and when he formed an alliance some time in the future, it would be with someone from a similar background, someone who understood the pressures of royal life, and who had been schooled in that role since birth. That certain someone would have to possess the confidence to appear regal and unflustered at his side in every situation.
But would he ever get that picture of Beth Tracey Torrance and her cheeky smile out of his head? He couldn't forget the way she had turned her head to look at him while the onshore breeze had played with her shimmering hair. Nor would he forget those full lips, and how they firmed, or the crystal-blue eyes that could so quickly turn to ice if he said something she disapproved of. He would like to soften those lips and turn that ice to fire, but he had to put those thoughts out of his head now because duty was calling him and he had to go.
Beth was still standing at the scene of her embarrassment when the orchestra quietened and a hush fell over the room. As all the elegant couples on the dance floor began to make their way back to their seats, she used the crush of perfumed flesh to escape the beady eye of the Sheikha's attendant and cross to the table of young guests where her friend was sitting. There was no point in remaining stubbornly alone. They had asked her to join them, and she'd have more to tell her friends that way.
As Beth had hoped the table of young people welcomed her, and quickly drew her into their conversation. They were an international group, Beth soon discovered, who had been to school in England and had only recently been summoned back to Q'Adar by their families to show support for the new leader.
'This is it!' Jamilah, the young girl who had rescued Beth, excitedly informed her. 'The Sheikh will be here any minute … '
As Beth nodded her throat dried and her heart went crazy. A fanfare of trumpets announced the opening of the golden doors. Even the most seasoned diplomat and jaded royal was riveted, she noticed, and no wonder. Surely none of them had ever seen such splendour before? But then Beth smiled secretly to herself, remembering that the boss of the world's most prestigious chain of luxury stores would know a thing or two about presentation.
As the lights in the ballroom dimmed, the spotlight on the golden doors grew brighter. Into this pool of light strode a tall, imposing figure clad in flowing black robes which were heavily embroidered with gold thread. 'The master of ceremonies,' Beth's neighbour discreetly informed her.
The man dressed in his robes of office stood for a moment before walking deeper into the hall. The stream of light followed him, and at his signal it widened to encompass the entire dance floor. Onto this stage strode four musicians, carrying slim golden trumpets. They wore the crimson, black and gold livery of Khalifa, with the black hawk, that was the personal symbol of Khalifa Kadir al Hassan, prominently displayed. The same image was shown on the tasselled flags falling from their instruments, and as they raised them to their lips the hawks undulated as if the Sheikh's birds of prey were indeed flying.
The musicians' cheeks filled, and a silver sound cut the silence. It echoed on and on, and as it died away a party of stately men entered on silent, sandaled feet. Their robes fluttered as they lined up against the jewelled walls. Beth guessed these must be the senior members of the royal council, and she thought them a magnificent sight. Some were wearing belts studded with lapis lazuli that glinted as they walked, while others had golden scimitars flashing at their side, and a few had links attached to the belts at their waist from which dropped their keys of office. But for all their grandeur these powerful men formed up like a flock of well-trained doves to await their Sheikh of Sheikhs.
Beth's heart swelled with pride at the thought that, wherever in the world the Khalifa name appeared, it reigned supreme, and she could hardly wait to see what came next. And this time the surprise was even greater. Everyone gasped as a youth galloped into the arena on a fiery stallion, and, though Beth thought him nowhere near as imposing as his master, there was no doubt that his horsemanship was outstanding. As he brought the stallion to a skidding halt he surveyed the audience, while his mount's polished hooves pawed the floor. He was carrying a small bright bugle, and, urging his horse to rear up, he sounded it. This was a signal for a band of horsemen to join him. Each of them was mounted on a magnificent Arab stallion, and all wore the black howlis around their heads, which covered their faces so that just their fierce black eyes showed beneath the folds of cloth. Long knives glinted at their waist, and their manner spoke of a warrior past and an allegiance to their new leader. Beth's heart was thundering painfully as she watched them bring their restless horses in line, and now there was only the sound of the animals snorting and their bridles chinking as a deep hush fell over the ballroom.
It was into this silent assembly he came, towering over every other man in the room, and proving that he had no need of personal show, or horse, or even fanfare to herald his arrival. His Majesty Khalifa Kadir al Hassan, Sheikh of Sheikhs, Bringer of Light to his People, had the power to command attention with his presence alone. And as his gaze swept the room everyone rose to their feet
Except for Beth, who remained frozen to the spot. Seeing Khal like this had sent her heartrate off the scale. Dressed in the simple robes of a Bedouin warrior he needed neither gold nor weaponry to stamp his authority on the room. Power flowed from him, caressing her with the promise of his strength and virility, and, backlit like this, his magnificently toned form was clearly visible beneath his fluid robes. It would take a very foolish man indeed to challenge Khal's right to the title Sheikh of Sheikhs, Beth thought, longing for him to look at her. He was the man every woman would want for their lover, the man they would crave for their protector, the father of their child.
And this was not the time for daydreams, she told herself sensibly. But how hard was it to be sensible when your imagination was running riot?
More than anything Beth had always wanted a family of her own; the family she always talked about was a fiction she used to make her feel she belonged. She realised now she was secretly on the lookout for the ideal man-and, though she'd found him, her daydreams involving Beth Tracey Torrance and the Sheikh of Sheikhs was just another fiction. A man like Khal would marry for the good of the state and the benefit of his people; love wouldn't come into it. She only had to watch the other women reacting to him to know that. They all wanted Khal, and eventually he would choose one of them. He certainly wouldn't be taking his chances with Beth Tracey Torrance from Liverpool!
'Khalifa Kadir al Hassan … ' Beth sighed, then jerked alert, realising Khal's name was in her head because the herald had just introduced his master to the assembled guests, and that everyone was standing. Except for her! She almost knocked her chair over as she quickly remedied the situation.
He saw her at once, and not just because she was the only person in the ballroom who didn't rise the moment he entered the room. He saw her because they seemed joined by some invisible thread. And that was not just inconvenient, it was a situation that could not be allowed to continue. If the only way to deal with it was to see Beth privately so he could reassure himself that she was an unsuitable distraction, then that was what he would do.