He turned from her. It was time to forgot Beth Torrance and concentrate his powers of intuition on everyone else attending the ball. In a country enduring birth-pangs, there were always those who would stand in the way of progress so they could hold on to their old, corrupt ways, and it was these people he intended to root out. But each time his gaze raked the hall it found Beth.
He'd looked at her. He had. She wasn't imagining it! The Sheikh of Sheikhs had remembered her and had looked at her. At least he hadn't forgotten her. Beth Tracey Torrance had made an impression on a sheikh! She couldn't wait to tell her friends.
But then Beth started fretting. Was it the fact that she had turned her back on him on the beach and stalked away that made him remember her? Maybe she shouldn't be feeling quite so thrilled-maybe he had a dungeon waiting. And she didn't have her hands on that trophy yet-the trophy she had promised her friends she wouldn't return home without. But, if the ruler of Q'Adar forgave her and went ahead with the presentation, she'd have to say something and look at him, and that was almost worse.
She'd just have to make sure she didn't blurt out something completely inappropriate, Beth thought, starting to panic. She definitely mustn't say, 'I hardly recognised you in your clothes.' Biting her lip as she settled back in her seat, Beth told herself to relax and concentrate on the speeches.
His good intentions were shot to hell. Try as he might to focus on the speeches, all he could think about was Beth Tracey Torrance and the fact that she was staring at him. He should have her taken away and locked her up for her own safety. He realised now that everyone else was paying close attention to the proceedings, and just the two of them were distracted by each other. And now it was his turn to speak. He made it short and sweet, and when it was time for everyone to stand and bow before him he signalled more impatiently than he had intended that they must sit down again. He blamed Beth. He needed her out of his eye-line.
Beth gave a little jump as a cheer went up, and then realised that the Sheikh of Sheikhs' guards of honour had raised their weapons in a salute to him and were roaring their approval. And she hadn't even noticed them walk in. She had been too distracted by their leader. And how he had looked at her. She wasn't imagining it. And that look was well worth a night in the dungeon-for the ruler of Q'Adar stood centre-stage, backlit as if by Hollywood, with testosterone flying off him like sparks from a Catherine wheel. In this land of fierce, hard men, His Majesty Khalifa Kadir al Hassan was the hardest of them all. And she wanted him like mad, Beth confided to her inner self, glancing round guiltily in case there were any mind readers on her table. Who was she to look at their sheikh? Except to say that she knew another side of their ruler-the boss of the Khalifa group ran a company that held the best record for pastoral care of its employees in the world.
Which was why she was here. The trophy was just another example of how highly Khalifa Kadir regarded his employees. Thought it was hard to credit him with any gentleness now, when he appeared to be everything a warrior sheikh should be and more.
He was aware of her every second. Seated on the raised dais with the other members of the royal family, he told himself that this distraction was nothing more than his natural concern for an innocent abroad. He wanted to be sure Beth was safe; of course he did. He was concerned that the attendant his mother had sent at his request to look after Beth had abandoned her when she'd joined the table of young people. Beth worked for him, and therefore Beth was his responsibility.
Beth. Beth … She had eaten up too much of his time already. His body's responses to her were nothing more than an adrenalin rush brought on by this occasion. The fact that he could feel her clear blue gaze burning into him meant nothing. She was looking at him so she could report to her friends back home, and that was all. She would report that she had stared boldly at the Sheikh, and that he had stared back at her.
She was over-excited and needed to calm down. Beth gazed longingly at the exit. The girl seated next to her took her chance to ask if they could swap plates. Beth had hardly touched her food, and the chocolate pudding did look delicious, she noticed now it was too late. 'You can have it,' she said, smiling. She knew that feeling-the hole in the stomach that only chocolate could fill.
'Sure?'
'Positive.' Beth tore her glance from the Sheikh, welcoming the distraction. 'I'm overwhelmed,' she admitted, exchanging plates. 'I can't face eating. It isn't every day I find myself in a place like this.'
'Lucky you!' the girl exclaimed, laughing. 'Imagine having to dress like this on a regular basis.' Coming closer, she confided, 'I'd far rather be galloping across the desert.'
'Wish I could,' Beth agreed, thinking how romantic that sounded.
'You will if you stay here for very long,' her new friend promised, forking up a mouthful of cake.
'I'm going home soon,' Beth explained.
'Then you'll just have to come back, won't you? Oh, look!' Beth's new friend exclaimed, swallowing hectically. 'I think they're calling you.' Grabbing Beth's arm, she drew her attention to a stern-looking man, dressed in the royal livery, who was beckoning to Beth in a stiff and impatient manner. 'You didn't tell me you were someone special!' she exclaimed again.
'I can assure you, I'm not,' Beth said, shaking her head wryly.
'Well, good luck anyway.' The young girl touched her arm.
'Thank you. I'm going to need it!'
'So, that's your little shop girl,' Khal's mother commented as Beth approached. 'She's a pretty little thing, but I'm sure she's feeling quite disorientated here. Why don't I go and reassure her?'
'You, Mother?' Khal's eyes narrowed. His mother would let nothing and no one stand in the way of her ambitions for her one remaining child. He had never been under her thumb, but it worried him that her sights might be set on Beth now. He couldn't expect Beth to know how to handle his mother, and he half rose from his seat in order to intercept the Dowager Sheikha.
'You seem to have forgotten, Khal,' his mother said, waiting impatiently for him to move aside. 'That I was a no-one when I came to this country; I know how it feels to be a stranger in a foreign land.'
He had not forgotten, but he wondered at her mention of it. 'Beth's flight home is already booked.'
'Beth?' His mother gave him a long, searching look.
'Mother,' he murmured, leaning close. 'You're not as subtle as I remember.'
'That's because I'm growing more desperate, my son. I want you to find a bride and settle down.'
'Is that why you invited every eligible female you could find to decorate these celebrations?' And when she lifted her chin and refused to answer him he added, 'I may indeed settle one day, Mother, but I will never settle for second best.'
'Like a shop girl?' His mother stared at him keenly.
'Are you worried about Beth?' He laughed it off. 'I promise you, you will have the grandchildren you long for-just not yet.' Having seen his mother comfortably settled again, he raised her jewelled hand to his lips.
'I love you, Khalifa.' His mother stared into his eyes. 'Which means I only want the best for you.'
'I love you too, but I despair when you're fooled by gilt and tinsel … ' He gave a meaningful glance at the row of compliant princesses all leaning forward in an attempt to attract his attention. 'I'll find a bride in my own time,' he assured his mother. 'And now, if you will excuse me … ?'
His mother didn't attempt to impose her will on him a second time, and he was just gathering his robes around him in preparation to return to his seat when a shriek made him turn. There had been a collision at the foot of the stairs. Some clumsy oaf had spilled a tray of drinks over Beth, and now her ballgown was ruined. Beth had frozen and was uncertain what to do.
'Shall I remain seated, my son?' his mother whispered at his ear. 'Or would you have me go to her and help her?'