Desert King, Pregnant Mistress(8)

He ground his jaw in frustration. It would have suited him better to keep the two of them apart.

'You  can hardly be the one to usher her out of the hall and have her  return  some time later in a new dress, now, can you?' his mother  pointed out.

'I'm not sure what you're suggesting,' he told her with matching guile. 'But I can assure you I am above gossip, Mother.'                       
       
           



       

'But Beth's reputation would be ruined.'

His lips tugged in wry defeat as his mother arched her brows.

'Let me go to her, Khalifa, and I promise to bring her back to you unharmed … '

He  weighed the facts. Beth's misery had only increased as she'd  attempted  to scrub at the stains with a napkin someone had handed her.  Her evening  was on the point of ruin. 'Go to her, and be sure that you  do bring her  back to me unharmed. Be gentle with her,' he stressed,  standing aside  to allow his mother and her attendants to pass. 'And  please remember  that Beth has a trophy to collect, so don't keep her  long. She must  receive her award before the festivities can begin.'

'If you ask me,' his mother murmured dryly on her way past him, 'the fun has already started.'

He  feared for Beth as he watched his mother descending like a galleon  in  full sail, with her flotilla of hard-nosed females in close  formation  behind. But somehow he thought Beth would cope, and either  way his  mother was doing him a favour taking Beth out of his sight.  Beth Tracey  Torrance had proved far too much of a distraction as it  was.





CHAPTER FOUR




'THANK  you, Your Majesty. This is really too good of you!' Beth  exclaimed,  blushing furiously as she sank into the first proper curtsey  of her  life. The Sheikha had brought her into a part of the palace  Beth had  never thought to see, the Dowager Sheikha's private apartment,  and now  they were surrounded by silks, satins and French perfume, in  the most  sumptuous lace-trimmed room. Unfortunately she spoiled the  moment as she  made her curtsey when the seams of the ruined dress  finally gave way.

The Sheikha, to her credit, appeared not to notice the ugly ripping sound.

'Nonsense!' she exclaimed with a flick of her wrist. 'Any friend of my son's-'

'Oh,  we're not friends,' Beth blurted frankly, her cheeks turning  hotter  still when she heard the chorus of disapproving clucks rising  from the  Sheikha's attendants because she had interrupted the royal  personage. 'I  mean, your son's my boss, and that's all.'

'Your boss?' The Dowager Sheikha said, savouring the word.

Okay,  so maybe she had protested a tad too heartily, Beth thought,  hurrying  to explain. 'That's right. We hadn't even met until today. I  was away  last time he called at the store. I'd never seen him before we  ran into  each other at the beach.'

'On the beach? You met my son at the beach?'

So  the Sheikha was aware Khal swam naked. Could her cheeks grow any   hotter? Beth wondered. 'I didn't look at him. I mean … I didn't stare … '

'I should hope not,' the Sheikha agreed, delicately dabbing at her nose with a fine lace-handkerchief.

'And  we barely spoke at all,' Beth hurried to reassure her, but Khal's   mother had already turned away, hiding who knew what thoughts.

'Bring out the star dress,' the Dowager Sheikha commanded, turning from her.

Beth's  glance flicked from attendant to attendant as they gasped, but  when she  saw the gown the Sheikha had chosen for her to wear she  thought she  understood why they were astounded. It was stunning, and  must have cost a  fortune. 'Oh, I couldn't,' she gasped, unable to tear  her eyes away  from a dream of a dress shimmering in the light. Composed  of silver  chiffon, it was embroidered over every inch with tiny  diamanté stars.

'You think it a little old-fashioned?' Khal's mother demanded.

'Oh  no, I love it,' Beth's said impulsively. Her gaze slid round the  room.  It appeared her honesty hadn't gone down so well with the  Sheikha's  attendants. 'I mean, I'm not worthy … '

'I'm not so sure,' Khal's mother argued, waving her attendants forward. 'Help this young woman to dress,' she commanded.

When  Beth was finally turned out to everyone's approval, she spun round  to  show the Dowager Sheikha, who had seated herself in a chair to  watch.

At  first there was silence, and then the Dowager Sheikha observed, 'You   look quite beautiful, my dear, and I hope you enjoy wearing the dress.   It belonged to my daughter-'                       
       
           



       

As the older woman's voice choked  off, Beth felt a change in the air.  It was as if there was some history  behind the Sheikha's comment that  everyone but Beth knew about. 'Your  Majesty,' Beth said softly, not  wanting to intrude on the Dowager  Sheikha's private thoughts. 'I'm  overwhelmed by your generosity, and I  promise to take good care of the  dress.'

The Sheikha gave her the  briefest of nods, and Beth suspected Khal's  mother didn't trust herself  to speak, because something else had joined  them in the room. Grief,  Beth thought, wondering at it. 'I've taken up  enough of your time  already,' she said to excuse herself. 'I'll bring  the dress back to you  in the morning.'

'That won't be necessary,' the Sheikha said,  tipping her chin in a way  that reminded Beth of herself when she tried  fighting off uncomfortable  memories. 'I'll have someone collect it from  your apartment after  breakfast. And now, if you're ready, my ladies will  escort you back to  the ballroom.'


With the faintest of  smiles the Dowager Sheikha signalled that the  doors should be opened and  everyone should leave her now. She was  desperate to be alone with  whatever pain had come to join her from the  past, Beth sensed.

'You  remind me of myself at your age,' the Dowager Sheikha murmured as  Beth  prepared to leave the room. And as Beth made her final curtsey  their  gazes briefly met and held.

When Beth entered the ballroom this  time everyone turned to stare,  including His Majesty Khalifa Kadir al  Hassan, Sheikh of Sheikhs, the  ruler of Q'Adar. And she did feel a  little buzz of excitement, Beth  admitted to herself. Okay, a roar. But  who would have thought it? Here  she was, Beth Tracey Torrance, at the  royal court in Q'Adar …

Get over it! Beth told herself firmly, and remember to pick your feet up this time.

Beth  held her head up as a pathway cleared for her across the vast  floor.  She should enjoy this moment. It wasn't every day you got to  wear a  fairy-tale gown and parade in front of all these worthies. She  walked  steadily and then made her way carefully up the steps. She was   determined not to fall and ruin the precious dress, which meant no one   must be allowed to distract her, not even the man towering over everyone   else on the royal dais.

'Ms Torrance … '

Khal's deep, husky  voice ran shivers down Beth's spine. It took all she  had to blank her  mind at where they'd met before, or what she'd seen  on that occasion.  But that wasn't easy when the scent of his sultry  cologne was washing  over her, and naughty thoughts were making it hard  not to break into  nervous giggles.

Making a fool of yourself isn't an option, Beth  Tracey Torrance, Beth's  inner voice insisted. Think of your friends back  home. It was true.  They were all waiting to hear her news, and she  couldn't let them down  when any one of them would have loved to be here  in her place.

'Your Majesty … ' Beth surprised even herself by  managing a perfect  curtsey, but the only problem with that was that it  brought her into  close proximity with an area of the Sheikh's body it  was far safer not  to think about. Thankfully, Khal chose that moment to  reach for her  hands and raise her to her feet, but when she looked up  into his face  his expression was grim. What had she done wrong this  time?



His mask almost slipped when he saw the dress his  mother had chosen for  Beth to wear. Why that dress? Why his sister's  dress? Was it because  it was the only dress suitable for Beth to wear in  his mother's  wardrobe? He realised his face was growing increasingly  fierce as he  fought off emotions he had battled so long to subdue, and  he could see  the confusion in Beth's eyes. This wasn't her fault, but he  couldn't  explain to her, not here. Nor could he explain to Beth that  when his  mother sent her arrows flying her aim was invariably accurate.  This was  her way of telling him that he had grown cold and unfeeling  since the  tragedy, and that it was time for him to rejoin the world.