Diamond in the Desert (15 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A
MONTH
WAS
a long time in business, and Britt was surprised at how many of the changes were good. With new blood came new ideas, along with fresh energy for everyone concerned to fire off. The combination of ice and fire seemed to be working well at Skavanga Mining. The Kareshis brought interesting solutions for deep shaft mining, while nothing fazed workers in Skavanga who were accustomed to dealing with extreme conditions on a daily basis. Drilling was already under way, and even Britt’s sisters had been reassured by how well everyone was getting on, and how much care, time and money the consortium was putting into preserving the environment. They had always taken their lead from Britt where business was concerned and so when she explained Sharif’s plan to them, they were all for her trip to Kareshi—though their teasing she could have done without.

‘Oh, come off it,’ Eva insisted in Britt’s minimalist bedroom at the penthouse, where the sisters were helping Britt to pack in readiness for the arrival of Sharif’s jet the following day. ‘We’ve seen him now. Don’t tell me you’re not aching to see your desert sheikh again.’

Aching? If a month was a long time in business, it was infinity when it came to being parted from Sharif. ‘He isn’t
my
desert sheikh,’ she said firmly, ignoring the glances her sisters exchanged. ‘And, for your information, this is a business trip.’

‘Hence the new underwear,’ Leila remarked tongue in cheek.

* * *

Business trip?

Business trip, Britt told herself firmly as the limousine that had collected her from the steps of the royal flight, no less, slowed in front of the towering, heavily ornamented golden gates that led into the courtyard in front of Sheikh Sharif’s residence in his capital city of Kareshi. She had read during the flight that the Black Sheikh’s palace was a world heritage site, and was one of the most authentically restored medieval castles. To Britt it was simply overwhelming. The size of the place was incredible. It was, in fact, more like a fortified city contained within massive walls.

It was one month since she had last seen Sharif. One month in which to prepare herself for pennants flying from ancient battlements, alongside the hustle and bustle of a thriving modern city—but she could never be properly prepared, if only because the contrast was just too stark. And those contrasts existed in the Black Sheikh himself. Respectful of traditional values, Sharif was a forward-thinker, always planning the next improvement for his country.

Excitement wasn’t enought to describe her feelings. There was also apprehension. Until she saw Sharif’s expression when he saw her again, she couldn’t relax. She was prepared for anything, and was already steeling her heart—the same heart that was hammering in her ears as she wondered if Sharif would be wearing his full and splendid regalia—the flowing black robes of the desert king? Or would he be wearing a sombre tailored suit to greet a director of what he had referred to in the press as his most exciting project yet?

Exhaling shakily, she hoped the problems he had referred to in Kareshi had been resolved, because she was bringing him good news from the mine. They were ahead of schedule and there was a lot to talk about. Ready for their first business meeting, she had changed into a modest dress and jacket in a conservative shade of beige on the plane.

Her heart bounced as the steps of the citadel came into view. Somewhere inside that gigantic building Sharif was waiting.

Not inside.

And not wearing black robes, either, she realised as the limousine drew to a halt.

Sharif was dressed for riding in breeches, polo shirt and boots...breeches that moulded his lower body with obscene attention to detail...

‘Welcome to my home,’ he said, opening the car door for her.

His face was hard to read. He was smiling, but it could easily have been a smile of welcome for a business associate, newly arrived in his country. Forget business—forget everything—her heart was going crazy. ‘Thank you,’ she said demurely, stepping out.

He was just so damn sexy she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her mind was closed to business, and her wayward body had tunnel vision and could only see one man—and that was the sexy man who knew just how to please her. There was only one swarthy, stubble-shaded face in her field of vision, and one head of unruly, thick black hair, one pair of keenly assessing eyes, one aquiline nose, one proud, smooth brow, one firm, sexy mouth—

Pull yourself together, Britt ordered herself firmly as Sharif indicated that she should mount the steps ahead of him.

There were guards in traditional robes with scimitars hanging at their sides standing sentry either side of the grand entrance doors and she felt overawed as she walked past them into the ancient citadel. Every breath she took seemed amplified and their footsteps sounded like pistol shots in the huge vaulted space. Everything was on a grand scale. It was an imposing marble-tiled hall with giant-sized stained-glass windows. There were sumptuous rugs in all the colours of the rainbow, and the beautifully ornamented furniture seemed to have been scaled for a race of giants. She felt like a mouse that had strayed into the lion’s den. The arched ceiling above her head seemed to stretch away to the heavens, and she couldn’t imagine who had built it, or how the monstrous stone pillars that supported it had been set in place.

Attendants bowed low as Sharif led her on. Even when he was dressed in riding gear, authority radiated from him. He was a natural leader without any affectation, and—

And she was going there again, Britt realised, reining her feelings in. Each time she saw Sharif she found something more to admire about him, yet his insular demeanor irritated the hell out of her too, even if she accepted that hiding his feelings must be an essential tool of kingship.

‘Do you like it?’ he said, catching her smile.

She jolted back to full attention, realising that Sharif had been watching her keenly the whole time. ‘I think it’s magnificent,’ she said as a group of men in flowing robes with curving daggers in their belts and prayer beads clicking in their hands bowed low to Sharif.

A hint of cinnamon and some other exotic spices cut the air, a timely reminder of just how far away from home she was, and how they still had quite a few issues to address. She wondered if Sharif would hand her over to some underling soon, leaving their discussions until later. She almost hoped he would to give her chance to get used to this.

‘What’s amusing you?’ he said.

‘Just taking it all in,’ she said honestly. ‘I’m a historic building fanatic,’ she admitted, thinking that a safe topic of conversation. ‘And this is one of the best I’ve seen.’

‘The main part of the citadel was built in the twelfth century—’

As he went on she realised that Sharif really did mean to be her tour guide. She had no complaints. He was an excellent teacher, as she knew only too well.

He took her into scented gardens while her heart yearned for him to a soundtrack of musical fountains.

‘We have always had some of the greatest engineers in the world in Kareshi,’ he explained.

And some of the greatest lovers too, she thought. And what else but love could this exquisite courtyard have been designed for? Everything spoke of romance—the intricate mosaic patterns on the floor, the songbirds carolling in the lemon trees, and the tinkling water features. Surely it was the most romantic place on earth?

And as such was completely wasted on her, Britt concluded, as Sharif indicated that they should move on. ‘I’ll have someone show you your room,’ he said.

So that was it. Tour over. Her heart lurched on cue as he raked his wild, unruly hair into some semblance of order. He probably couldn’t wait to pass her over to someone else.

‘Freshen up and then meet me in ten,’ he said.

Oh...

‘Unless you’re too tired after your journey?’

‘I’m not tired.’

‘Good. Put something casual on. Jeans—’

She held back on the salute as a group of women clothed in flowing gowns in a multitude of colours appeared out of nowhere. She turned to look over her shoulder as they ushered her away, but Sharif had already gone.

* * *

‘These are your rooms,’ an older woman, who seemed in charge of the rest, explained as Britt gazed around in wonder.

‘All of them?’ she murmured.

‘All of them,’ the smiling woman explained. ‘My name is Zenub. If you need anything you only have to ask—or call me.’ And when Britt looked surprised, she added, ‘This is an ancient building, but we have a very modern sheikh. There is an internal telephone system. This room leads into your dressing room and bathroom,’ she explained, opening an arched fretted door that might have been made of solid gold, for all Britt knew. The door was studded with gems that seemed real enough, and probably were, Britt concluded, since Sharif had explained that every original feature inside the citadel had been faithfully restored to its former glory.

She was excited to discover that she had her own inner courtyard, complete with fountain and songbirds. The scent from a cluster of orange trees decorated with fat, ripe fruit was incredible while the fretted walls and covered walkways kept everything cool. It was just the type of place to invite exploration—the type of place to linger and to dream. Perhaps it was just as well she didn’t have time.

‘There are clothes in the wardrobe, should you need them,’ Zenub told her as she ushered the other women out. ‘And your suitcase is over here,’ she added, indicating a dressing room with yet another glorious display of fresh flowers on one of the low-lying, heavily decorated brass tables. ‘Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.’

Britt smiled. ‘I will—thank you. And thank you for everything you’ve done to make me so welcome.’

Amazing didn’t quite cover this, Britt reflected as the women left her alone in what amounted to the most fabulous apartment. Every item must have been a priceless treasure, and it was only when she walked into the bathroom and smiled that she saw Sharif’s hand in the restoration. The bathroom was state of the art too. There were the high-quality towels on heated rails, as well as fabulous products lined up on the shelves. If the harem pavilion in the desert had been a place of pure pleasure, this was sheer indulgence. It was just a shame she didn’t have time to indulge. Another time, she mused ruefully, stepping into the shower.

She showered down quickly and dried off. Tying back her hair, she thought, Sharif stipulated casual, so she tugged on her jeans. A simple white tee and sneakers completed the outfit. A slick of lip gloss and a spritz of scent later and she was ready—for anything, she told herself firmly, leaving the room.

Except for the sight of Sharif wearing a tight black top that sculpted his muscular arms to perfection, and snug-fitting jeans secured by a heavy-duty belt, holding heaven in its rightful place.

And why had she never noticed he had a tattoo before?

She’d been otherwise engaged, possibly?

‘Hello,’ she managed lamely, while her thoughts ran crazy stupid wild.

‘Britt.’ He looked her over and seemed pleased. ‘You fulfilled the brief.’

‘Yes, I did, boss.’ She raised her chin and met the dark, appraising stare with a challenging grin.

‘Shall we?’

She glanced at the imposing doors, either side of which stood silent guards whose rich, jewel-coloured robes and headdresses reminded her that this was an exciting land full of rich variety and many surprises. But not half as many surprises as the man standing next to her, Britt suspected as they jogged down the steps together. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and did a double take. ‘A motorbike?’

Sharif raised a sexy, inky brow. ‘I take it you’ve seen one before?’

‘Of course, but—’

‘Helmet?’

‘Thank you.’ She buckled it on.

And yes, there were outriders. And yes, there was an armoured vehicle that might have contained anything from a rocket launcher to a mobile café, but it wouldn’t have mattered, because none of the following posse could keep up with Sharif.

Riding a bike was hot without any additional inducements, like jean-clad sheikhs she had to cling to. Sharif was a great rider. She felt safe and yet in terrible danger—in the most thrilling way. By the time he stopped the big machine outside the university he could have had her on the street.

Fortunately, Sharif had more control than she had and led her through the beautifully groomed grounds, explaining that he wanted to talk to her before he introduced Britt to the students.

‘You’ve got another idea,’ she guessed.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, his dark eyes glinting.

I wish, she thought as Sharif ruffled his hair. ‘So, what’s it about?’

‘We’ve talked about this before, in a way,’ he said, perching on a wall and drawing her down beside him. ‘If you agree, I’d like you to start thinking about plans to bring our two countries together by arranging exchange trips between students.’

‘Is that why you’ve brought me here?’

‘That’s one reason, yes. I want you to see where your diamonds are going.’

She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t excited. Her world had always revolved around Skavanga, but now Sharif was offering her more—so much more and her heart soared with hope.

‘You’re the best person for the job,’ he said. ‘You’ll be reporting to me, of course—’

‘Oh, of course.’ She tried to keep it light.

‘Don’t mock,’ he warned.

He touched her cheek as he said this, and stared deep into her eyes. It was impossible to feel nothing. Impossible, but she tried not to show it.

‘Your first task is to work on a way for our people to learn about each other’s culture.’

And now the dam finally burst and she laughed. ‘Birch twig switches and harem tents? That should go down well with the students—’

‘Britt—’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I think it’s a wonderful idea.’ And she could tell that it meant a lot to Sharif. This wasn’t a whim on his part; this was a declaration of sorts—and maybe the only one she would ever get. But they were close. Deep down she knew this. And she wasn’t fooling herself this time, because Sharif was sharing some of the things closest to his heart with her, and when he squeezed her hand and smiled into her eyes, she knew how much this meant to Sharif and was honoured to be a part of it.