SHE was hiding in a rock pool, watching a naked man stride out of the surf. Beth Tracey Torrance, good girl, quiet girl, shop girl, Liverpool girl, pressed up against warm rocks in a foreign land beneath a blazing sun. And not just any country, but the desert kingdom of Q’Adar, where men rode camels and carried guns! Her stay-at-home self would say she was mad to be sitting here, frozen to the spot like one of the mannequins in the store—her friends would put it somewhat stronger—but she was drawn to this man. Just call it essential research. Well, she had to give a full report of her trip when she got back home, didn’t she?

Beth leaned forward cautiously to take another look. If she’d thought the lash of sea on rock was elemental, the man leaving the ocean was even more stunning. Under different circumstances she would have turned away, because he was nude, but nothing seemed real to her here in Q’Adar—not the fabulous riches, the glamour, or the beautiful people.

Where was the camera when you needed it? With his lean, muscular frame and regal bearing, she was sure this man must be a member of the proud Q’Adaran race. And it wasn’t every day you got the chance to stare at a man so beautiful he took your breath away.

Her colleagues at the luxury department store, Khalifa, would never believe this! She had amazed them once already with the news that her prize for being voted Shop Assistant of the Year for the Khalifa luxury group included not just a trip to the desert kingdom of Q’Adar, but a fairy-tale gown to wear to the Platinum and Diamond Ball—being held to celebrate the thirtieth birthday of the country’s ruler, as well as his coronation, or whatever it was called when a man was voted Sheikh of Sheikhs. And this was the same man whose extensive business-portfolio included the Khalifa brand.

She had never met her boss, Mr Khalifa Kadir, the legendary founder of the international chain of luxury stores

known as His Majesty. His full title was His Majesty Khalifa Kadir al Hassan, Sheikh of Sheikhs, Bringer of Light to His People. It sounded like something out of a fairy story, Beth thought as the man walked up the beach and disappeared behind some rocks.

And now she, Beth Tracey Torrance, was going to meet the Sheikh of Sheikhs when he handed her the trophy she’d won. So, should she bow or should she curtsey? Beth wondered, distractedly chewing her lip. There wasn’t much room for manoeuvre in her tight-fitting dress, so maybe she should just make a small bow when she met him … When she met him! When she, an ordinary girl, met the Sheikh of Sheikhs! It was all she had dreamed about for weeks now. And yet that dream had just been eclipsed by some man on a beach.

Pressed back against the rocks, Beth closed her eyes and inwardly melted. Forget the sheikh. This man would be branded on her mind for ever!

He felt rather than saw the intruder. His training in the special forces had served him well. The sixth sense he had developed during army service had saved his life on several occasions, and had also proved a handy tool when it came to developing his business instinct. His profits now rivalled those of oil, and Q’Adar was rich in oil. Most sheikhs didn’t work, but where was the challenge in spending oil wealth when that precious resource seeped out of the ground? And where was the satisfaction in paying experts to earn money for him? Where was the sense of achievement in sitting back while others did the work for him? He was always restless, always seeking the next challenge, and now he had accepted the greatest challenge of his life: to rescue his country, Q’Adar, from the brink of disaster.

Throwing back his head to embrace the warmth of the molten sun, the Sheikh of Sheikhs, His Majesty Khalifa Kadir al Hassan, rejoiced that he was more than strong enough for the task as he luxuriated in the seductive heat of his native land.

He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. And if he’d just turn a little to the right …

No.

No!

What was she thinking?

Beth’s thoughts flew into a frenzy as the man’s naked body was fully revealed. She exhaled with relief as he turned his back. She didn’t want him to turn around again or she’d be damaged for life. She’d never find his equal. Never! He ’d been close enough for her to see everything! And there was an awful lot of everything to see. He wasn’t even covered by a towel, though she could see one neatly folded on a rock. Thankfully the rock was some way away, which meant he wouldn’t have to pass her hiding place when he went to get it. Which meant she was safe to go on staring at him. Well, she had to remember every bit of this in detail to tell her friends, didn’t she?

To an untrained observer he might appear oblivious to the dangers around him, but he never took anything for granted, especially his personal safety. He had made his life outside Q’Adar, and was still weighing up the risks here. He had returned to his homeland at the request of the other sheikhs, who had asked him to lead them, and he was ready to serve. His life experiences had prepared him for most things—with the possible exception of the unfathomable workings of a woman’s mind. His portfolio of business interests had achieved global renown, and he had no personal issues to distract him; no taint of scandal touched him. As a stranger, to emotion he doubted it ever would. His sense of duty was all- embracing, and, having accepted this challenge, he wouldn’t let his fellow sheikhs down by carelessly offering himself up for slaughter.

As he moved steadily along the beach Khal caught sight of a flash of glowing hair. It confirmed his earlier analysis of the situation—the risk was small. An agent would have made her move by now. Paparazzi? The direction of the sun would have flared off their camera lens. No, this was a sight-seeing expedition by an amateur.

Burying his face in the towel he’d left ready for when he quit the sea, he took his time, knowing this would lull the young woman into a false sense of security. He could wait all he liked; she couldn’t get past him. He was between her and the palace, and with the ocean in front of her, and thousands of miles of unseen desert surrounding them, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Plus she would be growing increasingly uncomfortable in the heat while he

Plus she would be growing increasingly uncomfortable in the heat, while he felt refreshed—and not just in the body, but in the mind; the sea had cleansed him. He swam every day, either in the pool at one of his many homes, or in the ocean. It was one of his few indulgences. It allowed him to step outside himself —outside his life. Pitting his strength against the ocean gave him something else to think about other than balance sheets and treachery. He needed that space. Q’Adar had grown fat and lazy in his absence, and he intended to change that by setting up a strong infrastructure and wiping out corruption. It was a daunting task, and would take many years to achieve, but eventually he would reach that goal; he was determined to.

The fact that someone had managed to elude his security guards was an example of the general sloppiness he had uncovered, though for now good business-practice required him to hold back on reprisal until he had a chance to assess all the players involved. For what was a country, other than a business to be managed efficiently for the good of its people? It was ironic to think his business acumen was one of the reasons his fellow sheikhs had voted him into this position of supreme power over them, but he didn’t kid himself it had been a popularity poll—they knew his reputation. The financial press dubbed him ruthless and unforgiving, and where his employees were concerned that was correct. He didn’t take the livelihoods of fifty-thousand people lightly. He defended them as sheikhs of old had defended their territories, and if that meant cutting out the dead wood, and neutralising the competition, then that was what he did.

But for now his interest lay in tracking down this young woman. He would use her as an example of how the security forces were deficient, and stealth was his weapon of choice. His angle of approach would make her think he was walking away from her, when in fact he would be coming closer with every step.

As he prowled closer he was forced to shut out the seductive beauty of his homeland. There was much in Q’Adar to tempt the senses, and it would be easy to slip into self-indulgent ways. A panorama of exquisite loveliness tempted him to lower his guard and linger. When he returned to the palace he would be greeted by sights of unimaginable splendour—every wall at the Palace of the Moon was decorated with gold leaf, and the doors were studded with precious stones. Beguiling perfumes would lure him into thinking of erotic pleasures, while music would thrum a constant siren-song through his senses.

The only sticking point for him at the palace was his mother. Hoping he

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would marry soon, she had assembled the world’s most beautiful women for his perusal. Every royal house was represented—and there was no doubt her efforts had pleased the corrupt sheikhs, who didn’t care about his choice of bedmate just so long as he was distracted and left them alone. What they had failed to realise was that his mistress was work, and that here in Q’Adar there was much to do.

Beth watched the man bury his face in the towel with a mixture of apprehension and fascination. There was something about his stillness that warned her to be wary. She couldn’t shake off a feeling of uneasiness. Maybe he did know she was here, watching him. Maybe he wasn’t just burying his face in a towel, but quietening his body in order to listen to his senses. As he lifted his head the onshore breeze caught his thick black hair and tossed it around his face. He was magnificent. She’d never seen anyone like him before, and she held her breath as he fixed the towel around his waist.

He started walking—thankfully, away from her. Cutting at right angles to the beach, he disappeared out of sight behind some more rocks …

Letting out her breath in a ragged stream, Beth relaxed. What an experience that had been! She wished there had been a sculpter on hand, or an artist, someone capable of capturing his likeness and sharing it with the world …

Beth shrieked as something cold and hard pressed into the back of her neck. Was it a gun? She was too frightened to turn and find out.

‘Get up, ’ a clipped male voice instructed. ‘Get up slowly, and turn around. ’

She did as he asked, stumbling in the sand, only to find the man on the beach confronting her. ‘I was told I would be safe here, ’ she blurted out. ‘The new Sheikh has reserved this beach for his staff. ’ Beth knew that she was rambling as tears of fright filled her eyes. She couldn’t see the gun, but knew it must be somewhere. ‘I’ve got a permit … ’ No, she hadn’t! She had changed out of her jeans into a sundress without pockets. ‘Don’t you speak English?’ she blurted, wondering if those few phrases were all he had.

‘As well as you, I imagine, ’ the man replied in a voice that was barely accented.

Beth found herself confronting the hardest, coldest eyes she’d ever seen, set

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in a face of savage beauty, but affront had taken the place of her anger. The man was twice her size, and much older than she was. She firmed her jaw. He had no need to threaten her with a gun. ‘Is it usual to intimidate guests to your country?’

She had guts, he’d give her that, but she had been spying on him, and she mustn’t be allowed to think him an easy target. ‘Do you make a point of invading other people’s privacy?’ he snapped back.

Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of rose, telling him that emotion came easily to her. In that they were very different. But the moment of embarrassment swiftly passed, and now this barefoot intruder with her wind-tangled hair and flimsy beach-dress was shooting fire at him from crystal-blue eyes. She was much younger than he had first thought, and her skin had the texture of a downy peach. She was new to the unforgiving Arabian sun, and instinctively he took a step forward to back her into the shade.

‘Don’t you come near me!’ she warned him, holding out her tiny hands to ward him off.

She was frightened, but still determined to put up a fight. And then he noticed that her small, straight nose had a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge …

Irrelevant. He was surprised that he’d noticed such a thing. Where had she come from, and how had she slipped past his guards? She wasn’t part of his world or she would have been recognised him immediately. She must have drafted in to help with the celebrations. But, if that was the case, why was she sunning herself while everyone else was working? ‘Does your supervisor know you’re here?’

‘Does yours?’

He recoiled at her impudence. Then he recognised the accent. Natives of Liverpool weren’t noted for holding back. ‘I asked the question first, ’ he said evenly. ‘Have you considered the possibility that your supervisor might be worried about you?’

A crease appeared between her upswept taupe brows as she considered this. ‘It seems to me that yours has more cause to be worried about you. ’

‘How do you work that out?’ he said deciding he would play along

How do you work that out? he said, deciding he would play along. ‘Do they know you bring a gun to the beach?’

‘A gun?’ He had to hold back his astonishment as well as his amusement. Holding out his hands, palms flat, he showed her he had no weapons—concealed or otherwise—unless she felt like searching under his towel, of course. ‘I was merely attempting to attract your attention, ’ he told her.

‘Oh, I see, ’ she said, catching on. ‘With one sea-cooled finger?’ Her mouth firmed into an angry line. ‘So you don’t use a gun, but you do assault guests to your country—well?’ she demanded. ‘Don’t I deserve the courtesy of a reply when you’ve frightened me half to death?’

He was still adapting to this radical change to the way people usually addressed him when his attention was drawn to her full rosebud-lips, and the difficulty she was having keeping them pressed flat in an expression of affront. He wanted to smile, because she was so young and so indignant, but he knew better than to prolong the encounter. ‘My apologies, ’ he said mildly. As he spoke he touched his right hand to his breast and then to his forehead. ‘You are right to feel distress. As a visitor to my land you are of course my honoured guest … ’ As the silky words worked their ancient magic, he saw her eyes darken with more than interest. She wasn’t so keen to get away now.

‘Apology accepted, ’ she said. ‘So, you work here too?’

Rather than answer he watched the flush rising on her cheeks. Her slight frame and pert breasts had made his senses stir. ‘That’s right, ’ he said at last. ‘I just got here. ’

‘Oh, like me, ’ she cut in, forgetting to be angry with him. ‘I expect you’ve come for the celebrations. ’ She glanced towards the palace. ‘They told me a lot of new staff had been hired. ’

‘Did they?’

She gave him a long, considering look, and then decided to trust him with a little more. ‘Q’Adar’s the most beautiful country, isn’t it?’

He could only agree. The sea was jade green with a white-lace frill, and his Palace of the Moon had turned rose pink in the mellow light of late afternoon.

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‘But it’s not the flash that makes it so lovely, is it?’ she demanded bluntly. ‘Though there’s plenty of that around, from what I’ve seen. Thing is, ostentation’s commonplace when you can see it on the telly any time you want. ’

‘Ostentation?’ He had thought the palace overblown when he’d returned to it after an absence too, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about hearing criticism of it from a stranger.

‘It ’s the scenery that gets you, isn’t it?’ she went on, gesturing around. ‘I think it’s a combination of beach, sea, and the warmth of the people that makes Q’Adar so special. ’

She was making it increasingly hard for him to find fault with her, especially when she added, ‘I think it’s the people most of all. ’ She stopped then and blushed, and started fiddling with her hair, as if aware that she was keeping him. But then wariness shaded her eyes as she took on board the fact that she shouldn’t be engrossed in conversation with a man she didn’t know—a man who might even pose a danger to her …

‘I won’t hurt you, ’ he said, lifting his hands.

She shrugged, a little defiant gesture to cover for the predicament in which she found herself, he guessed. And then a horn sounded somewhere in the palace, and she jumped. ‘What was that?’ Still gasping for air, she stared at him for answers.

‘That was the Nafir— ’

‘The what?’

‘The Nafir, ’ he said again. ‘It ’s a horn. ’ He was finding it harder every moment to remain aloof from her infectious cheeriness. ‘It ’s a big horn about three metres long made of copper. It utters a single-note. ’

‘That’s not much use, then, is it?’

He drew himself up to his full height. ‘On the contrary. The Nafir is sounded on ceremonial occasions and will be played tonight to herald the start of the Sheikh’s birthday. ’

‘So that was a dress rehearsal?’

‘I expect so. ’

She gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Well, that’s a relief! I was thinking Walls of Jericho—you know? We wouldn’t want that lot tumbling down on us, now, would we?’ Hugging herself, she pulled a face as she stared up at the gigantic structure.

The Palace of the Moon had stood for centuries as a symbol of Q’Adar’s pre-eminence in the Arab world, and he’d never heard anyone make light of it before. He didn’t know what to make of this young woman—except, to say, she interested him. ‘Don’t you think you should be getting back?’ He was conscious that she must have duties, and he didn’t want her to get in trouble.

‘Shouldn’t you?’ Cocking her head, she levelled a cheeky stare at him. ‘Oh, I’m all right for a bit longer. ’

‘And so am I, ’ she said. ‘There’s ages to go before the ball. ’ ‘So you’re a waitress?’

She laughed out loud. ‘Goodness me, no! Can you imagine it? Canapés flying everywhere and drinks all muddled up? I’d never be asked to do something like that!’

‘So, you’re a guest?’

‘There’s no need to sound quite so surprised, ’ she scolded him. ‘Actually, ’ she confided, touching his arm in her eagerness to make him feel at ease. ‘I’m halfway in between. ’

He felt her touch like a brand, and had to refocus to ask her, ‘Halfway in between what?’

‘Halfway in between being a servant and a guest, ’ she told him blithely. ‘I do work for the Sheikh, but I’m insignificant. ’

‘Insignificant?’ he queried. Of all the adjectives he might have used to describe this young woman, ‘insignificant’ was not one of them. ‘I wouldn’t call

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you that. ’

‘That’s very kind of you, ’ she said sincerely. ‘But, I’d better tell you right away, I’m only a shop assistant. ’

‘Only?’ He thought about all the other sales assistants who worked for him at his luxury stores worldwide. They were the lifeblood of his business. He considered them to be the front line, and this girl was the best of them, he realised now as the mystery unravelled in front of him. ‘Tell me more, ’ he said, wanting to hear her version of events.

‘I won best Shop Assistant of the Year for the Khalifa group, and this is my prize, ’ she said, gesturing around in a way he guessed was meant to encompass everything she had seen since arriving in Q’Adar.

‘And do you like it?’ She had already said she did, but he wanted to delve deeper into that quicksilver mind of hers.

‘I love it. Who wouldn’t? And they say the Sheikh’s gorgeous!’ ‘Do they?’ he said with surprise.

‘I won’t be able to pass an opinion on him until I see him tonight, but I’ll let you know. ’

‘Would you?’ he said, containing his amusement. She was so very young, he was surprised when she leaned forward to confide in him.

‘You know, I feel sorry for that sheikh … ’

‘Do you? Why?’

She stood back a pace, and her face turned solemn. ‘You probably think he’s got everything, but a man like that is a hostage for life, isn’t he?’ And, without waiting for him to answer the question, she breezed on with concern. ‘He can never do what he wants, can he? He can only do what’s right for everyone else. ’

He realised now that the inevitable question with its confident answer was part of her Liverpool charm. ‘Can’t they be one and the same thing?’ he said, marvelling at the fact that he was entering into a discussion with her. But, then, he couldn’t believe he was standing here at all with a woman he didn’t know

he couldn t believe he was standing here at all with a woman he didn t know.

She stood and thought about it for a while. ‘He ’d have to be really strong to run a country, the Khalifa business, and find time for a private life. ’

‘And you feel sorry for him?’ He felt faintly affronted.

‘Yes, I do, ’ she said candidly.

Before he could argue with her premise, she shook her head. ‘It must be hideous, having people bow and scrape around you all day without knowing who to trust. ’

‘Maybe the Sheikh is shrewder than you think. ’

Her face brightened. ‘I agree. He must be, mustn’t he? Look what he’s done with his business, for a start—and the other sheikhs wouldn’t have voted him in if he wasn’t exceptional. I like that, don’t you?’ she demanded without pausing for breath.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The way all the other sheikhs voted for him. And, of course, we couldn’t be more thrilled back home that it’s our sheikh that’s going to be the ruler of Q’Adar. Except we’re all worried now that he might sell off the Khalifa stores. ’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘He might lose interest in business when he has the running of a country on his mind. ’

‘There’s no danger of that. ’

‘You sound very sure. ’ Interest coloured her voice. ‘You have the inside track, don’t you?’ And, when he didn’t answer, she pressed him eagerly. ‘You’re someone important, aren’t you?’

‘I hear things on the palace grapevine, ’ he explained with a dismissive gesture.

‘Of course you do—and it’s the same for us back at the store. We always get to hear what’s going on What he’s like?’ she said after a moment’s pause

to hear what s going on. What he s like? she said after a moment s pause.

‘The Sheikh?’

‘You must know him if you work for him. I was off with flu last time he visited Khalifa in Liverpool, worse luck. Is he stern?’

‘Very. ’

‘He ’s not mean to you, is he?’

‘We have a good working relationship, ’ he reassured her.

‘Oh, well, I’d better get a move on, ’ she said, heading off in the direction of the palace. ‘Thanks for the chat. Are you coming?’ she said, turning to face him. ‘Only, I have to go now and put my glad rags on. ’

‘For the Platinum and Diamond Ball? Of course … ’ He had almost forgotten. He had allowed himself to be distracted by a pair of slender legs showing their first hint of tan, along with fine-boned hips and a hand-span waist. The unaffected friendliness in the young girl’s eyes was so refreshing, he allowed himself another moment’s indulgence. ‘Are you looking forward to the ball, Cinderella?’

Her face turned serious. ‘Don’t call me that. I’m not Cinderella; my name is Beth. Beth Tracey Torrance. ’ And then, taking him completely by surprise, she held out her tiny hand for him to shake. ‘And I’m not waiting around for some fairy godmother to come and save me. I make my own luck. ’

‘Do you indeed?’ he said, releasing her hand, which was soft and cool in spite of the heat, and delivered a surprisingly firm handshake. ‘And how do you go about that?’

‘Hard work, ’ she said frankly. ‘I read something once written by Thomas Edison. You know—the light-bulb man? I’ve never forgotten it, and it’s become my motto. ’

‘Go on … ’ His lips were threatening rebellion, but he managed somehow to control them and confine himself to a brief nod of encouragement.

‘Thomas Edison said, “opportunity is missed by most people because it

comes dressed in overalls and looks like work” . ’

‘And you agree with that?’

‘Yes. ’ She drew the word out, as well as up and down the vocal register, for even more emphasis. ‘It ’s worked for me. But then I love my work. ’

‘You do?’

‘I love people, ’ she said, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. ‘I love seeing their faces when I find something in the store that’s going to make a difference to their lives. Maybe it’s a gift, or a treat they’re buying for themselves—it doesn’t matter. I just want to see the look transform their faces … ’

And now her face was transformed with a smile. ‘So the look’s your secret of success?’

‘Oh, there are others on the floor just as good as me, ’ she told him. ‘Sales figures are all a matter of luck, aren’t they?’

After what she’d told him, he very much doubted it. The horn sounded again, and this time she didn’t jump. ‘Isn’t this romantic?’ she said instead.

They both gazed up at the towering ramparts, where pennants were being raised in his honour. The sun had sunk low enough to turn the walls of his citadel a soft shade of rose madder, which, yes, he supposed could be called romantic by those with a vivid imagination and time enough to look.

‘Imagine having this much fuss made of your birthday, ’ she said, drawing his attention again. ‘I thought I was lucky, but— ’

‘Lucky?’ he interrupted, wanting to know more about her.

‘I have the best family on earth, ’ she assured him passionately. As she laughed, he presumed all the happy reminiscences must be flooding in. ‘They do all sorts of batty things for me on my birthday. Wonderful surprises … ’ Her eyes turned dreamy. ‘You know the type of thing?’

Actually, no, he didn’t. His parents loved him, but duty had always coloured his life. There had been little time to party, and much to learn. If he hadn’t been voted Sheikh of Sheikhs, he would still have returned to Q’Adar to serve his

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people at some point.

‘I expect the Sheikh’s up there now, ’ she said, shading her eyes as she gazed up to where the bursting flames of the dipping sun were reflected in the windows. ‘There’ll be champagne corks popping right now, I’ll bet. ’

They would be anxiously awaiting his return. He had been gone for far too long. The plans for this celebration had been rigorously planned minute by minute, and unlike the celebrations she had described there would be no surprises. The Platinum and Diamond Ball would not conform to any of the wacky images Beth had conjured, but would be stiff with ceremony, and fraught with pitfalls, especially for an innocent like Beth Tracey Torrance. ‘Is someone taking care of you tonight at the ball?’

‘Taking care of me?’ she slanted him a coquettish look. ‘Why? Are you offering? Because, if you are, I think it’s time you told me your name. ’

‘I’ll be working, ’ he reminded her.

‘Oh, don’t worry, ’ she said, flipping her wrist. ‘I was only teasing you. I know you must have lots to do, and most probably hundreds of gorgeous women in your harem— ’ Her hand flew to cover her mouth. ‘Sorry! Sorry!’ She looked mortified, and her accent broadened as she exclaimed in horror, ‘I didn’t mean that! I hate stereotypes, don’t you?’

‘No offence taken, ’ he assured her. ‘And, as for my name, you can call me Khal … ’

‘Khal as in Khalifa?’ she interrupted. ‘Now, that is a coincidence … ’ As she stared at him her face changed and grew pale beneath its scattering of freckles. ‘No, it isn’t, is it?’ she said.