‘I am not sure…er…That is…I’m afraid I don’t know your correct title or how I should address you,’ she managed to say uncertainly.
He gave a small shrug of the powerful shoulders she had already noticed.
‘My brother and I both had a very liberal upbringing. Our mother was Irish and our father wanted us to follow in his footsteps and be educated in England and Paris. While the traditionalists in our country still use our titles, since we are modelling our new venture on modern lines everyone will be on first-name terms with one another. Therefore you will address me as Drax.
‘Drax…’
She made his name sound as though she was tasting it—a soft whisper of sound as her lips parted round the ‘D’ and then closed softly on the ‘x’.
‘It is a family name,’ he told her dismissively, irritated with himself for the images that were forming inside his head. He had seen far more beautiful women and had known far more sensually explicit and carnal women—so what was it about this woman that uniquely invested so much of what she said with such an intense sensuality that just being with her had his body in an almost constant state of arousal? It was a reaction to her he would have to destroy, since it was Vere who would have the right to claim her sexually—if he chose to do so.
The sudden savage surge of male possessiveness that gripped him made him frown. He was engaged in a matter of great diplomatic importance—one that must not be prejudiced by some ill-considered sexual lust. He had been too long without a woman. That was all that was causing him to feel desire for her, Drax reassured himself. It was over a year since he had ended his last relationship, and it was no wonder that his body was reminding him of its needs.
There was a very discreet and elegant retired belly dancer who had returned to Dhurahn after the death of her elderly husband and would be more than glad to welcome him into her bed, and she understood the rules that would govern their relationship without him having to spell them out to her. She was only just thirty, and stunningly beautiful.
They were at the airport. Sadie felt her stomach muscles start to clench. Was she doing the right thing? Was it too late for her to change her mind?
Change her mind? So far all the decisions had been made for her, not by her, Sadie forced herself to admit. And yet, if she was honest with herself, there was something exciting and energising about the thought of the career challenge that now lay ahead of her. If he—Drax—this Arabian sheikh who had swept into her life like the hot desert wind and taken her over, was telling her the truth.
CHAPTER FOUR
ZURAN airport was world-famous for its elegance and the number of shops in its duty-free shopping mall.
A snap of his fingers and a few quiet words from Drax had ensured that they were ushered through the airport’s security system by Zurani officials, and her case had been politely but firmly taken from her.
Without knowing quite how it had happened, Sadie discovered that she was obliged to walk behind her new employer, following in his wake as he strode arrogantly through the brightly lit mall with its designer label shops. He spoke into his mobile phone in Arabic, holding a conversation with someone who made him laugh several times. A woman? Sadie wondered. His woman?
The ferocity of the sensation that spiked through her shocked her into stopping abruptly, and it took the hasty apology of someone bumping into her to break her out of the paralysis that had seized her. It wasn’t quite so easy to move her thoughts on. Why on earth had the thought of a man she hardly knew having a sexual relationship with another woman stopped her in her tracks and filled her with such a fierce surge of envy? Envy? That wasn’t what she had felt at all, she hastily denied to herself.
She needed to find something else to focus her thoughts on. Determinedly, she looked around the impressive terminal hallway.
Huge gold palm trees reached up the full three floors of what was claimed to be the world’s biggest and most exclusive duty-free airport shopping mall. Tiny sparkling lights illuminated the trunks and the leaves, and beneath her feet the marble floor was immaculately clean. Everywhere she looked she could see evidence of Zuran’s wealth and status—and that of the travellers filling the mall. Being here reminded Sadie of how she had planned to treat herself to a few new things before returning home, thinking that the salary Monika had agreed to pay her would allow her some small indulgences.
Her wardrobe badly needed revamping; that was for sure. The cheap business clothes she had bought for her first job were now worn and shabby, and not really suited to the Gulf’s hot climate. Monika had promised her that she would provide her with a working wardrobe of clothes on her arrival in Zwar, but as with everything else the promised new clothes had never materialised. Now, looking at the displays in the windows of the shops lining the mall bearing the exclusive logos of well-known high-profile designers, and being surrounded by elegantly dressed women, Sadie couldn’t help giving a small sigh. She was not a materialistic person, but she still paused wistfully to look towards the windows, all too aware of how unfavourably she compared to both the mannequins in the shops and the women around her.
Yes, it would have been fun to treat herself to some new clothes. Fun, but now, thanks to Monika, impossible, she told herself sturdily. She quickened her pace to catch up with her new employer, the co-Ruler of Dhurahn—she still wasn’t sure she would be able to get used to addressing him informally as Drax. She just hoped that she was doing the right thing, that she wasn’t jumping out of one bad situation into another that was potentially even worse—because it was obvious to her that she couldn’t change her mind now. Drax had her passport and she had no money.
Up ahea
d of them several small electric buggies were waiting.
‘These will take us to the Royal runway,’ Drax informed her matter-of-factly as he was ushered into the first buggy. Accompanied by the same officials who had escorted them through the airport, Sadie had to travel behind him.
A group of uniformed and robed officials were waiting to receive them when the buggies came to a halt, and Sadie watched as the waiting men salaamed respectfully to Drax, who in turn merely inclined his head, indicating that there was no question of who was the highest ranking person there.
An immaculate strip of beautiful carpet ran from the exit to the foot of the steps leading up to a gleaming jet waiting on the tarmac, and overhead a canopy had been erected to protect them from the sun. This was travelling as Sadie had never experienced it before.
The robed officials surrounded Drax, their dark silk cloaks billowing in the wind as they escorted him to the plane. Sadie’s escort consisted of a small group of men dressed in white tunics, traditional baggy trousers and richly embroidered waistcoats bearing the device of the Royal Ruling Family of Zuran. One of them was carrying her shabby case. She felt as though she had stepped into some kind of parallel but very unfamiliar world, and if she was honest she was beginning to feel completely overwhelmed by it.
Several smartly uniformed men, who looked as though they must be the pilots and crew, were waiting at the bottom of the steps to the aircraft. Like the officials, they too bowed respectfully to Drax, and Sadie caught an unmistakably Australian twang in the voice of one of them as he murmured respectfully, ‘Highness.’
As Drax started to mount the steps, Sadie hung back. It was almost as though she didn’t exist, as though he had forgotten all about her. Her throat had gone tight, and suddenly she felt very alone and forlorn.
As though somehow he had sensed what she was feeling, Drax turned round to look at her. Although he didn’t say a word, somehow Sadie found that she was climbing the steps towards him, as though compelled to do so by some power that was emanating from him. There was something in the commanding intensity of those green eyes that exerted as much of a pull on her senses as any magician from an Arabian fairytale might have done. A man like this could be dangerous to know for a woman like her, an inner voice warned her, but Sadie refused to listen to it. This was the twenty-first century, and she was far too much of a modern woman to let herself drift off into some foolish fantasy about powerful, sensual desert men and their effect on her sex.
Assuming a businesslike expression, she followed Drax into the plane. Inside, the jet was nothing like any aircraft she had ever flown in before. There were no rows of seats. Instead there was a large open space, its walls painted a subtle shade of blue-grey and its floor covered in off-white carpet. Several very modern-looking leather chairs were artfully placed around the space, which also held a large black desk with a computer, on which Drax was already working.
A uniformed steward came towards her, guiding her to a chair. ‘There is a TV screen concealed in the wall opposite you,’ he told her, offering her a handset and earphones. ‘And on the opposite side of the dividing screen you will find a guest bedroom and bathroom, should you wish to rest in private. However, the flight time to Dhurahn is only one hour, and I shall be serving champagne and canapés before we take off, followed by a meal. If you have any dietary preferences…?’