‘What’s his name?’ put in Rose quickly, thinking that maybe, just maybe—there was another prince in London with dark, exotic looks.
‘Khalim,’ said Kerry, and her face took on an unusually soft expression. ‘Prince Khalim. It’s a lovely name, isn’t it?’
‘Lovely,’ echoed Rose faintly. ‘Wh-what did you say he wanted?’
‘He wants to employ our agency to head-hunt for him! More specifically,’ added Kerry, ‘he asked especially for you.’
‘D-do you know why?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Kerry happily. ‘He told me. Said he’d heard that you were probably the best head-hunter in the city, and that he only ever uses the best!’
The word uses swam uncomfortably into her mind and refused to shift. Rose frowned in genuine confusion. ‘You mean he’s in advertising?’
Kerry shook her head. ‘Oh, no—it’s nothing to do with advertising. He wants you to find someone to be in charge of his country’s oil refinery. The man who has been there since the year dot is taking early retirement, apparently.’
Rose stared across the table in disbelief. ‘But we don’t do oilfields!’ she protested. ‘Our speciality is advertising.’
‘That’s exactly what I told him,’ said Kerry smugly. ‘I felt it was only professional to point that out. I said that my advice would be to consult someone who was familiar with that particular field.’
‘And what did he say?’ asked Rose, knowing that the question was in many ways redundant, and that she had a good idea of what was coming next.
She had.
‘Oh, he said that the principles for finding the right person for the job were the same, no matter what the particular job,’ Kerry explained airily. ‘Matching skills with needs.’
‘I’ll bet he did,’ said Rose dully. What Khalim wanted, Khalim had to have. And he wanted her, she knew that. The only trouble was that she wanted him, too—and she was only just beginning to discover how much…
Kerry gave her a piercing stare. ‘This wasn’t the kind of reaction I was expecting, Rose. I thought you’d be leaping up and down with excitement,’ she said, and leaned forwards over the desk. ‘When someone of this man’s stature hears that one of your staff is about the best there is, and decides that no one else will possibly do. Well—’ she shrugged, but there was no disguising her disappointment ‘—most people would be absolutely delighted! Is there something you’re not telling me?’
Rose was a naturally truthful person, but this was her boss. And, anyway, even if she told the truth—how weak and pathetic would she sound if she came straight out with it? Kerry, I’ve met him and he desires me and I desire him too, but I’m reluctant to start anything that I suspect is only going to end in tears.
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘There’s nothing of any relevance to the job.’ And that much was true. If any of her ex-boyfriends had come to the agency requesting that she found someone to work for them—she wouldn’t have had a problem doing it. Wasn’t she in danger of letting Khalim tangle her life up into knots?
‘Think of the opportunities this presents!’ enthused Kerry. ‘This could give us the chance to branch out into a completely different field. The world could be our oyster—and just think of our profile!’
Kerry spoke sense; the professional in Rose acknowledged that. There was no way she could turn down such a golden opportunity, even if she had been railroaded by the coolly manipulative Khalim into doing so. She put as much enthusiasm as she possibly could into her reply. ‘I’d love to do it, Kerry.’
Kerry beamed. ‘Good! He wants to see you first thing in the morning. Well, ten o’clock, to be precise.’
‘Where?’ But Rose knew the answer to this, too.
‘At his suite. The penthouse suite! At the Granchester Hotel.’ Kerry winked. ‘Very posh! Just make sure you wear something nice!’
Rose opted for the cover-up. A silk trouser suit in a sugar-almond pink. And the complete opposite of a come-and-get-me look, with her hair caught back in a stark pony-tail and her make-up so sparing that it was virtually non-existent.
She arrived at the Granchester at precisely five to ten and the first person she saw standing at the other end of the vast foyer was Philip Caprice. As expected.
She saw his hand move to the breast pocket of his suit, and then, with a slightly wary smile, he walked across the foyer towards her.
‘Hello, Rose.’ He smiled.
It wasn’t his fault that he worked for a man who used his untold influence to control events, she supposed, and she gave him a returning smile.
‘Hello, Philip. Khalim sent you down to collect me, I suppose?’
‘No, Khalim has come down to fetch you himself,’ came a smooth, velvety voice from just behind her, and Rose turned round to find Khalim standing there, the black eyes glittering with some unspoken message. Was that triumph she read there? She supposed it was. He had got exactly what he wanted. Or so he thought…
‘And I suppose I should be flattered, should I?’ she asked spikily.