Desert King, Pregnant Mistress(9)

He  shook himself out of the painful reminiscences, remembering this was   Beth's moment, not his. And no one, not even his mother, was going to   spoil it for her. Having introduced Beth to the assembled guests, he   handed her the trophy. 'Congratulations, Ms Torrance,' he said formally.                       
       
           



       



Khal  looked so grim, but she had no option but to shake his hand and  say  thank you. She had to. Tilting up her chin, Beth met the gaze of  the  ruler of Q'Adar, a man who would have been stunningly sexy under  any  circumstances. But here, with the full weight of his power  surrounding  him, he was a devastating sight. Yes, except for his lack  of emotion he  was just about perfect. So why was he so cold? Beth  wondered, as Khal  stood back, allowing her to take the applause.

It was better for  her if he disapproved, she concluded. Did she want  him noticing her,  smiling at her, wanting her? No, of course not; in  fact, she was  relieved.

Liar! Beth's inner voice accused her as she turned to  face her  audience. Still she managed a smile and then thanked everyone  politely.  'And before you start dancing again … ' Silence cloaked the  room. She  was not supposed to say anything else. Firming her jaw, she  continued.  'I'd just like to say-' A gasp of astonishment greeted this.  Ignoring  it, Beth ploughed on, 'That this trophy isn't just for me.' She  waved  it in the air. 'But for everyone who works at Mr Khadir's  stores.'  Another gasp, much louder than the last. 'Yes, I realise you  all know  him as His Majesty, but to us he's the best boss ever.' It was  Beth's  turn to gasp as someone took firm hold of her elbow. She  exclaimed out  loud when she realised who it was. 'Sorry,' she said, but  the words  just kept on tumbling out. 'I bet you can't wait to get rid of  me.'

'On the contrary,' the ruler of Q'Adar murmured in her ear. 'I'd just like to save you further embarrassment.'

'Well,  you don't need to, thank you very much,' Beth said, swallowing  back her  fright as several royal attendants stepped forward to take her  into  custody. 'Do I look like a threat?' she whispered angrily to  Khal.

He  waved them off. Beth was more of a threat than she knew, Khal  thought  as he inclined his head towards her in a polite gesture of  dismissal.  'Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ms Torrance … '

She did, as it  happens-enjoy the rest of her evening, that was. She was  determined to.  She had every intention of delivering a full report on  the Platinum and  Diamond Ball when she returned home, and no one was  going to spoil it  for her friends. She was going to keep their dreams  intact even if the  truth, as she had discovered, was somewhat  different. But here at this  table it wasn't so hard to find things to  report on, because everyone  was so nice. Which made a change from the  man frowning at her from the  royal dais. That was, when Khal could  spare a moment from spending time  with each of the princesses selected  for his attention. Khal's mother  would have made a good personal  shopper at the store, Beth decided. The  Dowager Sheikha had a real  knack for bringing tempting selections for  the customer to choose from.  'How much would one of those cost?' Beth  asked her friend Jamilah  impishly.

Angling her chin in the  direction of Khal and his bevy of princesses,  Jamilah hazarded a guess.  'Those tiaras probably cost a cool million  each, just for starters.'

'No, I mean the whole package.' Now she had started, Beth couldn't suppress her mischievous Merseyside humour.

'You mean the cost of one princess?' Jamilah said, grinning as she got the joke.

'A country and a camel,' someone across their table discreetly offered.

'Ten camels.'

'Any advance on ten?'

Their  table was now in such uproar that Beth noticed they were  attracting  disapproving looks. She guessed the young people had never  been so  outspoken before, and it was all her fault.

'I think we've  outstayed our welcome,' Jamilah confided in Beth. 'We're  going back to  our family encampment for the fireside celebrations.  Would you like to  come with us? There'll be dancing.'

'Dancing?' Beth couldn't have  been more surprised. It made Q'Adar sound  like Liverpool, when she was  sure the life here for young people  couldn't be more different. 'Where  are you camped?'

'Just outside the palace walls, right on the  beach. My relatives will  be there and I'm allowed to bring a friend.  Everyone's agreed they'd  rather have you join us than one of those  sacrificial lambs at the  royal table.' And, when Beth looked askance at  her, Jamilah explained.  'We all know those girls on the top table have  been selected for their  beauty, and are only here on approval for the  Sheikh to take a look at.  His mother can't wait for him to get married  and give her  grandchildren.'                       
       
           



       

'But that's rather sweet of her, isn't it?' Beth said, not sure quite how she felt about it.

'Not for the sacrificial lambs.'

'Point taken,' Beth agreed, discreetly slipping away from the table to follow her new-found friends.

'I  suggest you get changed out of that dress and leave your trophy in  your  suite,' Jamilah said as they hurried out of the ballroom. 'I'll go  and  find you something suitable to wear, and then I'll come back for  you,  otherwise you're bound to get lost in the palace-it's such a  maze.'

Beth's  heart lifted as they scurried along the grand, vaulted corridor  as fast  as their high heels would allow. It looked as if she was going  to have  something good to tell her friends about after all.



He  watched her leave, and knew where she'd be heading when he saw who  had  befriended her. He was pleased for Beth. He was glad she had found  some  companions of her own age to make her stay a happy one until she  left  Q'Adar. And it would be a wonderful experience for her to mix with  his  people without all this pomp and ceremony getting in the way.

No.  He wasn't pleased, Khal decided, frowning. Jamilah's male relatives   would be present, along with every other hot-blooded man in the palace   who had been invited to take part in the open-air celebrations.   Chaperoned or not, there would be opportunities for the sexes to mix,   and Beth was impressionable.


He stood. It was a signal for  everyone else in the grand ballroom to  stand too. He gestured that they  must all sit down again, and then he  used the microphone to wish them an  enjoyable evening. An evening he  would no longer be part of. He ignored  his mother's scandalised glances  as he left the dais. The Sheikh of  Sheikhs wasn't required to give a  reason when he decided the  entertainment on offer no longer held  sufficient appeal. He had done his  duty by the princesses, having  reviewed the parade of hopefuls, and now  those painted dolls could  return home and take their greedy black eyes  with them. He'd made  enough deals in his life to know when he was being  duped.



Back in her glamorous palace accommodation Beth  was excited. It was  good to finally be part of something where she was  welcome-not that she  had ever envisioned being drawn into the royal  circle, of course. The  Dowager Sheikha had been extremely kind to lend  her the dress, Beth  thought as she carefully hung it up on a padded  hanger. Then she went  red, remembering her speech, and Khal dragging her  away from the  microphone. How had she dared to speak out like that?

She  had dared, and it hadn't been all that bad, Beth thought, sharing a   twinkle with her reflection. Maybe what this country needed was some   down-to-earth action. There was far too much la-di-dah bowing and   scraping going on, from what she'd seen. And she was pretty sure Khal   wasn't comfortable with it either.

When had she started thinking  of him as 'Khal'? Beth wondered. On the  beach, she realised-when he'd  been naked with nothing but a towel to  cover his country's assets! And  now she must try not to think about him  at all. About how hot he'd  looked in his simple Bedouin robes … They had  clung to his body as he'd  strode purposefully about, prompting all  sorts of wicked thoughts. If  she ever saw him in a pair of snug-fitting  jeans she'd probably faint  clean away! But as sheikhs didn't wear  jeans she was safe, Beth  concluded with relief as she showered down  under tepid water. Having  brushed her hair, she wrapped a robe round  herself and waited with  suppressed excitement for Jamilah to come back  for her.