And yet she’d never been in the company of royalty before. Was it any wonder he was complex and guarded? It was probably bred into him, along with his power. Was it any wonder he was different from other men?
Paolo’s words were rendering her too suspicious, too sensitive to the merest inflexion of Khaled’s voice and too ready to think the worst.
Sheikh Khaled was clearly a gracious host. She should relax and enjoy the experience. That way she would prove Paolo’s fears groundless.
A steward leaned over and whispered something in Khaled’s ear, his eyes widening a fraction before they narrowed on a razor-sharp gleam.
‘I apologise,’ he said, putting down his glass. ‘Something has arisen which I must attend to urgently. Please excuse me.’
She looked over to the business workstation, where two uniformed officers were already gathered around the computer screen. ‘Is anything the matter?’ she asked.
‘It is a trifling matter, nothing to concern yourself with,’ he assured her, nodding before turning and withdrawing to join his staff. Where had his officers come from? She hadn’t noticed them on the plane earlier, although it no doubt made sense for someone of a sheikh’s standing to travel with his own security.
Whatever the ‘trifling matter’ was, it was taking some time. And emotion. Every now and then the sound of raised voices and urgent instructions drowned out the constant hum of the engines and the sudden noise would pull her out of her designs once more to wonder what was going on. But the men were engaged in rapid-fire discussions between themselves and someone at the end of the satellite phone line and there was no way her curiosity would outweigh her good sense. She was staying right here.
Besides, it was a welcome break to have time away from Khaled’s presence, his dark, challenging eyes and his unreadable expressions.
A slight change in the feel of the flight told her they’d started their descent. She looked out of the window to the ground some forty thousand feet below. They were crossing a coastline, the blue waters of what she took to be the Mediterranean a stark contrast to the white line of the coast and the wide expanse of yellow-brown interior beyond.
She turned back to find Khaled lowering himself into the seat next to her.
‘It won’t be long now,’ he said.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, with a glance to the rear of the plane, but the two officers had disappeared again.
‘It is now,’ he said, noncommittally.
It wasn’t long before the sleek aircraft gently touched down on the runway at Jebbai’s airport, a short distance, Khaled explained, from the capital, Hebra. Sapphy stepped from the plane into the clean, dry heat of a Jebbai afternoon. She paused for a moment at the top of the steps. It was so different from Milan—with no mountains to shadow the small but modern airport. Instead the land was flat, reaching in all directions around, one endless golden dune after another, leading on to the horizon and broken only by a long strip of bitumen, the highway leading to the capital.
The middle of nowhere.
Never had the phrase been so apt. She gulped down a fortifying lungful of air.
Never had she felt so alone.
Khaled’s hand squeezed her shoulder, as if reassuring her. ‘Welcome to your new home,’ he said. She was halfway down the stairs and the moment gone before she realised what he’d said.
They transferred to the waiting limousine for the thirty-minute drive as day was beginning to fade. The heat of the day lingered, the warm air clean and dry under a sky that seemed to go on forever.
They said little for the first few minutes, Sapphy content to gaze out of the windows and drink in the view, finding even the passing dunes and rock formations fascinating, barely able to contain her excitement at the harsh beauty of the landscape. Even the presence of Khaled by her side wasn’t enough to quell her enthusiasm. Already she was brimming with ideas about colour, patterns and texture. The landscape was like a breath of fresh air.
‘What do you think of my country?’
‘It’s beautiful, just beautiful.’
‘Never take the desert for granted. It’s harsh and dangerous and unforgiving.’
She looked over to him, surprised by his words. ‘Of course, but isn’t the danger what gives it the edge over, say, a landscape of green hills and valleys? There the land is lush and fertile, beautiful in its own way, yet soft and safe. Whereas this place has colour and drama and magnificence that goes hand in hand with danger. Even more,’ she licked her lips, searching the view outside her window for the right words, ‘there’s almost a timeless quality about it. Almost like it’s waiting for something…’