The Sheikh Who Blackmailed Her: Desert Prince, Blackmailed Bride / The Sheikh and the Bought Bride / At the Sheikh's Bidding. Chantelle Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ His glance flickered across the top of the blonde’s tousled head. There was no doubt this woman had distraction written all over her.

      Her colour heightened, Gabby pulled away and walked back in to the octagonal room. She couldn’t decide if her legs felt as shaky as those of a newborn colt due to her fear of heights and the accumulated stress of the last two days, or to this badly timed visceral reaction to a stranger.

      Now, that was weird—because she had never been attracted to men like him, who projected animal magnetism. As she tilted her chin to meet his level dark gaze she was forced to acknowledge she had never actually met men like him before.

      Her lips twisted into a wry smile. She was guessing there were no other men like him …

      ‘Why do you want to speak to the King?’

      Self-recrimination tautened her soft face as his question made her realise she was in danger of losing focus here.

      ‘I really don’t see why that would be any of your business.’

      There was another bang on the door—loud enough to make Gabby flinch.

      Without taking his eyes from Gabby’s face, he nodded towards the door. ‘It is possibly his business.’

      Gabby glared at him. ‘Well, if you must know I want the King to intercede. It’s my brother—he’s under arrest, awaiting trial.’

      Gabby watched comprehension and distaste spread across his lean face. Her chin lifted. She had seen this response before, but most people attempted to conceal it. He did not.

      ‘Your brother is the English drug-smuggler?’

      Indignation sparkled in her eyes as she retorted, ‘My brother is not a smuggler.’ She saw the look of cynical contempt in the tall Arab’s face and struggled to stop her eyes falling guiltily from his. ‘What’s the point?’ she said, throwing up her hands in disgust. ‘You’ve already made up your mind,’ she accused angrily. ‘Everyone in this stupid place has already made up their minds,’ she added, with an emotional quiver in her voice as she realised Paul didn’t stand a chance.

      The embassy man had been right—his fate was sealed.

      The idea hit him like the classic bolt from the blue. He had been searching for an answer to his problems and the answer had come looking for him—or as good as.

      He smiled, and his answer glared back at him with loathing.

      Had he gone mad?

      Admittedly on the surface it seemed a crazy, desperate idea, but sometimes you had to think outside the box—something he was famed for, though admittedly he had never ventured this far outside on previous occasions.

      He’d never had to.

      His thoughts raced. This girl possessed the qualities his brother was lacking: toughness, resourcefulness and a healthy lack of respect for people in authority. And loyalty was a quality you could not buy. How many people would have gone to the lengths she had for a brother? And even now, when she knew deep down it was hopeless, she refused to give up.

      And he had something she needed.

      Looking at the defeated slump of her slender shoulders, and at the tears sparkling on her cheeks, Rafiq felt a moment’s doubt about his intentions. He quickly pushed aside the disquiet and walked towards the door. This was about the future of his country. He could not afford sentiment.

      Gabby lifted her head at the sound of the lock being clicked.

      With the door half open he turned back to look at her, and Gabby lifted her chin. She had not realised until this moment that she had hoped, quite irrationally, that this stranger might be on her side. Which probably made her certifiably stupid.

      Gabby waited, sickly anticipating armed men appearing. When they didn’t she moved towards the door, but any tentative hope she had that the coast might miraculously be clear for her to make her escape vanished when she heard the sound of deep male voices outside.

      One belonged to the man who had just walked out, the other possibly to the man who had been escorting her from the premises—though it was hard to tell, because he wasn’t sounding cold or dismissive now.

      If anything he was sounding … well, deferential.

      Gabby was still trying to make sense of this conundrum when the tall Arab reappeared. He closed the door.

      Gabby noticed immediately that the air of hauteur she had noticed in his manner was now more pronounced. She folded her arms protectively across her chest as she regarded him with deep suspicion. She was missing something.

      He waved a hand towards a low divan covered in tumbled silk cushions. ‘Have a seat, Miss Barton.’

      Gabby didn’t miss the significant fact that this was not a suggestion. ‘What’s going on? The guard—where is—?’

      ‘I have convinced Rashid that you offer no immediate threat to security.’

      She gave a dubious shake of her head. ‘And your word was enough to make him go away?’

      ‘Perhaps I should introduce myself?’ Without breaking eye contact with Gabby, he bowed fractionally at the waist and said, ‘I am Prince Rafiq Al Kamil.’

      The hot colour flew once again to Gabby’s cheeks.

      If the introduction had come from anyone else she would have thought them delusional and politely asked if they had taken their medication, but as her gaze travelled up the length of the tall figure, from his dusty feet to his gleaming dark head, she had to bite back a groan at her own stupidity.

      She might have been looking for royalty, but in her own defence she hadn’t been expecting to find it so literally. If she had been thinking straight she might have worked it out herself—his whole manner proclaimed that he was speaking the truth.

      So this was what the end result of centuries of breeding looked like … She had to admit that even to someone who felt a natural repugnance for arranged marriages he was a pretty good advert.

      A mortified flush climbed to her cheeks. ‘You’re the Crown Prince?’ she said, feeling stupid.

      He inclined his head in regal acknowledgement and drawled sardonically, ‘A poor second, I realise, to the King, but my father is at present out of the country. You don’t look very pleased,’ he mused, studying her flushed face and sparkling eyes. ‘Is this not what you wanted? A chance to plead your brother’s case at the highest level?’

      Despite the fact she had what she wanted, instead of taking this heaven-sent opportunity to ingratiate herself and plead Paul’s case, she remained on her feet and shouted angrily, ‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ Adding, ‘And how do I know you even are who you say you are? You could be anyone.’

      A look of astonishment chased across his lean features. ‘You wish me to prove who I am?’

      Their eyes connected, and Gabby’s short burst of irrational anger subsided. She shook her head, retracting the challenge before taking the seat he had previously proffered. She would have infinitely СКАЧАТЬ