The Sheikh's Bride. Sophie Weston

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      There was a moment of tense silence. Roy breathed hard. Then, without another word, he turned and blundered off, sending a chair flying.

      Leo sagged against the wall. Her heart was racing. Now that it was over she was horrified at the ugly little scene.

      Out of sight, she heard the lift doors open…several people get out…voices. Her rescuer flicked a look down the corridor. The voices got louder, laughing. He slipped a hand under her arm.

      ‘Come with me.’

      And before the new arrivals caught sight of them, he had whisked her to the end of the corridor and through impressive double doors. Before she knew what was happening, Leo found herself sitting in a high-backed chair in what she recognised as the Presidential Suite. The man stood over her, silent. He looked half impatient; half—what? Leo felt her heart give a wholly unfamiliar lurch.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he said at last.

      Leo thought: I want him to put his arms round me. She could not believe it.

      ‘What?’ she said distractedly.

      He frowned. As if people usually paid closer attention when he spoke, Leo thought. Now she came to look at him closely she saw there was more to him than grace and good tailoring. The harsh face might be proud and distant but it was spectacularly handsome. And surely there was a look in those eyes that was not proud or distant at all?

      I must be hallucinating, Leo thought feverishly. This is not my scene at all. I don’t fancy chance-met strangers and they don’t fancy me. This is the second time today I’ve started to behave like someone I don’t know. Am I going mad?

      ‘I said, are you all right?’

      ‘Oh.’ She tried to pull herself together. ‘I—suppose so.’ She added almost to herself, ‘I just don’t know what to do.’

      He sighed heavily. ‘In what way?’ His distaste was obvious.

      If he dislikes this situation so much, why doesn’t he just leave me alone, Leo thought irritated.

      ‘He said I wasn’t to go back. But everything I have is at the flat…’

      Unexpectedly her voice faltered. To her horror, Leo felt tears start. She dashed them away angrily. But the little gesture gave her away more completely than if she had started to bawl aloud.

      The man’s face became masklike.

      ‘You live with this man?’

      But Leo’s brain was racing, proposing and discarding courses of action at the rate of ten a minute. She hardly noticed his question.

      ‘I’ll have to call London.’ She looked at her watch. ‘And then book a room somewhere. If I can get one in the height of the tourist season.’

      The man sighed. ‘Then it will be my pleasure to offer you my assistance,’ he said in a long-suffering tone. He picked up the phone.

      Leo’s brows twitched together. There was something oddly familiar about the formal phrase.

      ‘Have we met?’

      He was talking into the phone in quick, clicking Arabic. But at that he looked down at her.

      ‘We have not, Miss Roberts.’

      He had the strangest eyes. She had thought they would be brown in that dark face but they were not. They were a strange metallic colour, somewhere between cold steel and the depths of the sea; and dark, dark. Leo felt herself caught by their icy intensity; caught and drawn in, under, drowned…

      She pulled herself up short. Was the man a mesmerist?

      ‘You know my name,’ she pointed out breathlessly.

      He smiled then. For the first time. It made him devastating.

      ‘I can read.’

      She stared at him, uncomprehending. He reached out a hand and brushed her shoulder. Even through the poplin jacket of her suit, his touch was electric. Leo shot to her feet with a gasp.

      ‘What—?’

      ‘Your label,’ he said gently.

      He had removed the large lettered name tag that she had worn to the airport this morning. He dropped it into her hand, not touching her fingers.

      Leo’s face heated. She felt a fool. That was not like her, either. What is it about this man that makes me lose my rationality? And feel like I’ve never felt before?

      The phone rang. He picked it up, listened without expression and only the briefest word of acknowledgement before ringing off.

      ‘The hotel has a room for you. Pick the key up at the desk.’

      Leo was startled into protesting. ‘A room? Here? You’re joking. They’re booked solid for weeks. I know because I was trying to get a room for a late attender at the conference.’

      He shrugged, bored. ‘One must have become available in the meantime.’

      Leo did not believe that for a moment. Her eyes narrowed.

      But before she could demand an explanation, the door banged back on its hinges and two large men in tight suits appeared at it. One of them was carrying a revolver. Leo gaped.

      Her rescuer spun round and he said something succinct. The gun stopped pointing at her. The two men looked uncomfortable. Leo turned her attention from the new arrivals to her rescuer.

      ‘Who are you?’

      He hesitated infinitesimally. Then, ‘My name is Amer,’ he said smoothly.

      Leo’s suspicions increased. But before she could demand further information, one of the men spoke agitatedly. Her rescuer looked at his watch.

      ‘I have to go,’ he said to her. ‘Moustafa will take you down to the lobby and ensure that there are no problems.’

      He gave her a nod. It was sharp and final. He was already walking away before Leo pulled herself together enough to thank him. Which was just as well. Because she was not feeling grateful at all.

      CHAPTER TWO

      LEO was not really surprised when the room proved to be not only available but also quietly luxurious. When a discreetly noncommittal porter ushered her in she found there were gifts waiting on the brass coffee table: a bowl of fruit, a dish of Arabic sweetmeats and a huge basket of flowers.

      Leo blinked. ‘That’s—very beautiful.’

      The porter nodded without expression. He surrendered the plastic wafer that served as a key to her room and backed out. Neither he nor the hotel receptionist had expressed СКАЧАТЬ