The Sheikh and the Virgin. KIM LAWRENCE

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      ‘I am offering you financial compensation.’

      ‘You want to pay me off?’

      ‘I am willing to pay to remove you from my brother’s life,’ he admitted, clearly irritated by her insistence on calling a spade a spade.

      ‘I’d starve before I’d take a penny off you!’ she flared, fixing him with a furious smoky glare.

      He looked taken aback by her anger. ‘There is, I think you will find, rather more than a penny on the table.’

      Her lips curled contemptuously as she glanced down. ‘This isn’t about the amount.’ He clearly didn’t have the faintest idea he had just offered her an insult. ‘I don’t care how—Good God!’ she gasped, catching sight of the figure.

      Her round eyes moved from the paper to the man behind the desk, who was watching her with an air of smug complacence. It had obviously never even crossed his mind that she would say no.

      ‘That’s a lot of money,’ she admitted, with massive understatement. ‘But actually I’ve not a lot of use for it. However, being a princess … well, that’s something that money can’t buy, isn’t it …?’

      His eyes narrowed to icy slits as he rose majestically to his feet.

      She had to tilt her head back to look at him, and her taunting smile dimmed.

      ‘That, Miss Devlin, will not happen,’ he told her positively.

      ‘We’ll see …’

      ‘If you are trying to extract more money …?’ he began grimly.

      ‘I’m not. The fact is,’ she said stabbing her finger in the direction of his chest, ‘you don’t have enough money to buy me. I’m sure you’ve spent your life throwing money at problems to make them go away, but me—I’m not for sale. At any price.’

      Her regal exit was slightly marred by the fact that her hands were shaking so much it took her three attempts to open the door.

      The irony was, of course, that his insults and his bribe were not really intended for her. He had made a huge mistake. She just hoped that when he discovered Khalid’s real girlfriend the other girl would have the guts to tell him to go to hell too.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘ARE you all right, miss?’

      It required a supreme effort, but Bea forced a smile as she turned to the concerned-looking silver-haired man who had stopped to make the anxious enquiry. Concerned people who gave a damn were rare commodities nowadays, and in her opinion deserved at least a smile.

      ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she promised.

      He didn’t look entirely convinced, and if she looked anything like she felt, Beatrice wasn’t surprised.

      ‘Perhaps you should sit down …? A glass of water.?’ He glanced towards the large impressive-looking building Beatrice had just emerged from.

      ‘Really, I’m fine,’ she insisted, able to hide her shaking hands in the pockets of her jacket, but unable to control the emotional quiver in her voice.

      In truth, she had never felt less fine. She was, in fact, furious. A laid-back, easygoing person, Beatrice rarely lost her temper—but when she did she lost it big time!

      She remained so angry that her furious long-legged stride got her back to Emma’s flat in record time. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into the sitting room.

      ‘You’ll never guess what—’ She stopped abruptly. The room was empty, but a muffled sound from the bedroom indicated her friend was home.

      ‘That didn’t take long,’ Emma said, belting a robe around her waist as she emerged from the bedroom, her blonde curls tousled and her cheeks flushed. ‘Well, what was your meeting all about? Has a rich relative left you a fortune?’

      Bea, struggling to control her anger, barely registered her friend’s breathless voice as she gritted her teeth. ‘A fortune was involved,’ she admitted, kicking off her shoes and flopping down onto the sofa. ‘But, like I told you, I don’t have any relatives—rich or otherwise.’

      Neither, after living in foster care after her mother’s death, did she have Emma’s romantic imagination.

      Bea had responded to the mysterious invitation that had arrived in the post with curiosity and an open mind, but no great expectations. Definitely not the expectation of being insulted so comprehensively!

      ‘Neither did I bump into a white knight at the corner shop.’

      ‘Don’t be like that, Bea. There’s someone out there for you … a soul mate.’

      Sometimes Emma’s incurable romanticism could be irritating. ‘I won’t hold my breath—’ She stopped, tilting her head in a listening attitude. ‘Did you hear that? It sounded as if it came—’

      Emma threw a nervous look at the closed bedroom door, before perching on the arm of a chair and asking quickly, ‘What on earth did the lawyer say to put you in this mood?’

      ‘It wasn’t the lawyer I spoke to. The man I did speak to offered me a small fortune.’

      Actually, Beatrice thought, not so small! The number of noughts on the paper he had handed her had looked like a misprint, but apparently it wasn’t.

      Emma looked bemused. ‘And that made you angry?’

      ‘The money was conditional on me … I warn you, Emma, you’re not going to believe this.’ She unclenched her fists, sucked in a deep breath and tried to smile—it really was absurd. ‘It was conditional on me not marrying Khalid!’

      She paused, fully expecting Emma’s incredulous laughter, but not expecting to see the colour seep from her friend’s face.

      ‘What did he say when you told him you weren’t engaged to Khalid?’

      ‘He didn’t give me the chance. And then I got so mad, because he was so utterly detestable and smug, and … Well,’ she admitted ruefully, ‘I lost my temper and told him I fancied the idea of being a princess. Princess Bea …’ She struck a pose and chuckled. ‘What do you think? Shall I suggest it to Khalid? Incidentally, I must give him a ring and warn him what his brother is up to.’

      ‘Oh, God, Bea!’ Emma moaned, looking if it was at all possible, even paler. ‘Why did you say that to him …?’

      Beatrice was perplexed by her friend’s attitude. ‘Could it have had something to do with the fact the man treated me like some cheap little tart? I don’t think you understand, Emma.’ Beatrice spelt it out. ‘Poor Khalid must have fallen in love with some girl. His brother is trying to buy this girl off, and for some weird reason he thinks it’s me.’ She laughed, lifting her hair from the back of her neck and stretching with feline grace. ‘Weird doesn’t really cover it.’

      ‘Oh, Emma understands, Bea.’

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