Midnight Under The Stars: Woman in a Sheikh's World

She didn’t look at Jenny. ‘My father has never been part of my life.’

‘Presumably because your mother didn’t want him interfering! She scared him away, didn’t she?’ Jenny was still in full flow. ‘The woman is bright as the sun and mad as a bunch of bananas. And don’t kid yourself that you had to say yes to this party. You did the launch party for the Zubran Ferrara Spa Resort. That was enough to prove that you’re not losing sleep over the Prince.’

The knot in Avery’s stomach tightened but part of her was just relieved that the conversation had moved away from the topic of her father. ‘There was no reason to say no. I wish Mal nothing but happiness with his virgin princess.’ There was a buzzing sound in her head. She had to stop talking about Mal. It was doing awful things to her insides. Now she had hearing problems. ‘I’m doing the wedding party and then that will be it.’ Then everyone would stop speculating that she was broken hearted because of a man. ‘You call him, Jen. Tell him I’m out of the country or something. Find out what he wants and sort it out.’

‘Does his bride really have to be a virgin?’ Jenny sounded curious and Avery felt something twist in her stomach.

‘I think she does. Pure. Untouched by human hand. Obedient in all things. His to command.’

Jenny laughed. ‘How on earth did you and the Prince ever sustain a relationship?’

‘It was … fiery. I’m better at being the commander than the commanded.’ The buzzing sound grew louder and she suddenly realised that it wasn’t coming from her head, but from outside. ‘Someone is using the helipad. We don’t have a client flying in today, do we?’

As Jenny shook her head, Avery turned to look, but the helicopter was out of view, landing above her. ‘It must be someone visiting one of the other businesses in our building.’

Flanked by armed bodyguards, Mal strode from the helicopter. ‘Which floor?’

‘Top floor, sir. Executive suite, but—’

‘I’ll go alone. Wait here for me.’

‘But, Your Highness, you can’t—’

‘It’s a party planning company,’ Mal drawled, wondering why they couldn’t see the irony. ‘Who, exactly, is going to threaten my safety in a party planning company? Will I be the victim of a balloon assault? Drowned in champagne? Rest assured, if I encounter danger in the stairwell, I’ll deal with it.’ Without giving his security guards an opportunity to respond he strode into the building.

Avery had done well for herself since they’d parted company, he thought, and the dull ache that was always with him grew just a little bit more intense as did the anger. She’d chosen this, her business, over their relationship.

But he couldn’t allow himself to think about that. He’d long since recognised the gulf between personal wishes and duty. After years pursuing the first, he was now committed to the second. Which was why this visit was professional, not personal.

If he knew Avery as well as he thought he did, then pride would prevent her from throwing him out of her office or slapping his face. He was banking on it. Or maybe she no longer cared enough to do either.

Maybe she’d never cared enough and that was just another thing he’d been wrong about.

Mal passed no one in the stairwell and emerged onto the top floor, through a set of glass doors that guarded the corporate headquarters of Avery Scott’s highly successful events planning company, Dance and Dine.

This was the hub of her operation. The nerve centre of an organisation devoted to pleasure but run with military precision. From here, Avery Scott organised parties for the rich and famous. She’d built her business on hard work and sheer nerve, turning down business that wasn’t consistent with her vision for her company. As a result of making herself exclusive, her services were so much in demand that a party organized by Avery Scott was often booked years in advance, a status symbol among those able to afford her.

It was the first time he’d visited her offices and he could see instantly that the surroundings reflected the woman. Sleek, contemporary and elegant. A statement of a successful, confident high achiever.

A woman who needed no one.

His mouth tightened.

She certainly hadn’t needed him.

The foyer was a glass atrium at the top of the building and light flooded through the glass onto exotic plants and shimmered on low contemporary sofas. A pretty girl sat behind the elegantly curved reception desk, answering the phones as they rang.

For this visit he’d chosen to wear a suit rather than the more traditional robes but apparently that did nothing to conceal his identity because the moment the receptionist saw him she shot to her feet, panicked and star struck in equal measure.

‘Your Highness! You’re … ohmigod—’

‘Not God,’ Mal said and then frowned as the colour faded from her cheeks. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No. I don’t think so. I’ve never met a Prince in the flesh before.’ She pressed her hand to her chest and then fanned herself. ‘I feel a bit—’ She swayed and Mal moved quickly, catching her before she hit the ground.

Torn between exasperation and amusement, he sat her in her chair and pushed her head gently downwards. ‘Lean forward. Now breathe. That’s it. You’ll soon feel better. Can I get you a glass of water?’

‘No.’ She squeaked the word. ‘Thank you for catching me. You’re obviously every bit as strong as you look. Hope you didn’t put your back out.’

Mal felt a flash of amusement. ‘My back is fine.’

‘This is seriously embarrassing. I should be curtseying or something, not fainting at your feet.’ She lifted her head. ‘I presume you’re here to see Miss Scott. I don’t suppose there is any chance you could not mention this? I’m supposed to be cool with celebrities and famous people. As you can see, it’s still a work in progress.’

‘My lips are sealed.’ Smiling, Mal straightened. ‘Sit there and recover. I’ll find her myself.’ At least the receptionist hadn’t pretended her boss wasn’t in the building, which was good because his extremely efficient security team had already confirmed that she was here. The fact that she’d refused to pick up the phone had added another couple of coals to his already burning temper but he wasn’t about to take that out on this girl. He only fought with people as strong as him and he rarely met anyone who fitted that description.

Fortunately Avery Scott was more than capable of handling anything he dished out. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met. Nothing shook that icy composure. Apparently not even the fact that he was marrying another woman.

Temper held rigidly in control, he strode away from the reception desk and towards the offices and meeting rooms.

Deciding that Avery would choose a corner office with a view, he swiftly calculated the direction of the Thames. There was a large door at the end of the glass atrium and he thrust it open and there, seated behind a large glass desk and talking to another woman was Avery, immaculate as ever, that sheet of shiny blonde hair sliding over a pearl coloured silk shirt.

In those few seconds before she saw him, a tightness gripped his chest.

He felt something he only ever felt around this woman.

As always, the image she presented to the world was impeccable. She projected glamour, efficiency and capability. No one meeting Avery Scott could ever doubt that she would get the job done and that it would be done perfectly. She had an address book that would have made an ambitious socialite sob with envy but few knew the woman beneath the surface.

She’d shut him out. The closer he’d tried to get, the more she’d blocked him.

He almost laughed at the irony. He’d spent his life preventing women from getting too close. With Avery that tactic had proved unnecessary. She was the one who’d erected the barriers. And when he’d pushed up against those barriers too hard, she’d simply walked away.

They’d been lovers for a year, friends for longer, but still there had been days when he’d felt he didn’t know her. But there were some things he did know. Like the way a tiny dimple always appeared in the corner of her mouth when she smiled, and the fact that her mouth was addictive. Remembering that taste stirred up a response he’d thought he had under control.

The first time he’d met her he’d been attracted by her confidence and by the way she squeezed every drop of opportunity from life. He’d admired her drive, her success and her utter belief in herself. But the same qualities that had attracted him were the reasons they’d parted. Avery Scott was fiercely independent and terrified of anything she believed threatened that independence.

And he’d threatened it.

What they’d shared had threatened it. And so she’d ended it. Crushed what they had until there was nothing left but the pain.

People assumed that a man of his position had everything.

They had no idea how wrong they were.

Mal stood for a moment, tasting the unpalatable combination of regret and anger and at that moment she looked up and saw him.

He searched for some evidence that his unexpected appearance affected her, but there was nothing. Outwardly composed, she rose to her feet, elegant and in control and displaying the same unflappable calm she demonstrated even in a crisis. ‘This is a surprise. How can I help you, Mal?’ Cool. Professional. No hint that they’d once been as close as it was possible for two people to be, apart from the fact that she’d called him Mal.

His name had slipped from those glossy lips without thought and yet only a handful of close friends ever called him that. And Avery had once been in that hallowed circle.

She knew his closest friends because she’d been one of them; one of the few people indifferent to his wealth or his status. One of the few people who’d treated him like a man and not like the next ruler of Zubran. For a while, when he’d been with her, he’d forgotten about duty and responsibility.

Mal thrust that thought aside along with the others. Those days were gone. Today’s visit was all about duty and responsibility. He wasn’t going to make this personal. He couldn’t.

He was about to marry another woman.

‘You didn’t pick up your phone.’ He dispensed with formal greetings or pleasantries, considering them unnecessary.

‘I was in a meeting. You, a world leader who is generally considered an expert in the art of diplomacy, will surely understand that I couldn’t interrupt a client.’ She spoke in the same neutral tone he’d heard her use with difficult clients.

Somewhere deep inside him he felt his nerve endings spark and fire and he remembered that their verbal sparring matches had been their second favourite way of passing the time they spent together.

As for the first …

His libido roared to life and Mal turned to the other woman in the room, because privacy was essential for the conversation he was about to have. ‘Leave us, please.’

Responding to that command without question, the woman rose. As the door closed behind her Avery turned on him, blue eyes ice-cold.

‘You just can’t help it, can you? You just can’t help telling people what to do.’

‘This is not a conversation I intend to conduct in public.’

‘This is my office. My business. You are not in charge here. Whatever your reason for being here, nothing justifies you walking in without knocking and breaking up my meeting. I wouldn’t do it to you. I don’t expect you to do it to me.’

It was as if a high-voltage electrical current had suddenly been diverted through the room. It crackled, sizzled and threatened to leave them both singed, and it aggravated him as much as he knew it irritated her.

‘Why wouldn’t you take my calls?’

Two streaks of colour darkened her cheeks. ‘You called at inconvenient moments.’

‘And does ignoring your clients’ phone calls generally work well for you? I’d always assumed that customer service is everything in your business.’

‘You weren’t calling about business.’

‘And you weren’t thinking about business when you refused to take my calls so let’s stop pretending we don’t know what’s going on here.’ Deeply unsettled by the strength of his own feelings, Mal strode to the huge glass windows that enveloped her office and reminded himself that his reason for being here had nothing to do with his past relationship with this woman. That was irrelevant. It had to be irrelevant. ‘Nice views. You’ve done extraordinarily well for yourself. Your business is booming while others fold.’

‘Why do you find it extraordinary? I work hard and I understand my market.’

Her reply made him smile but he kept that smile to himself. ‘Less than five minutes together and already you’re picking a fight.’

‘You’re the one who landed a helicopter on my roof and barged into my office. I would say you were the one picking the fight, Mal.’

For the first time in weeks he felt the energy flow through him. Not to anyone would he have admitted how good it felt to have someone speak without restraint. To argue with him. To challenge—

‘I was merely congratulating you on the astonishing growth of your business in a difficult economic climate.’

‘You could have done that in an email. I have absolutely no idea why you’re here or why you’ve been phoning me every two minutes but I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about guest lists or colour schemes.’

‘I am not remotely interested in the details of the party. That is your job.’

‘For once we’re in agreement. And now I’d be grateful if you’d leave so that I can do that job.’

Sufficiently energized, he turned. ‘No one but you would dare speak to me like that.’

‘So fire me, Mal. Go on. Do it. Take your business elsewhere.’ Those eyes locked on his and he wondered why she would be encouraging him to back out of what must be for her a prime piece of business. Under the perfectly applied make-up, she looked tired. His gaze slid to her hands and he saw her fiddling nervously with the pen she was holding.

Avery never fiddled. Avery was never nervous.

His attention caught, he watched her for a moment, trying to read her. ‘I’m not firing you.’

‘Then at least get to the point. Why are you here?’

‘I’m here because at the moment the party cannot go ahead. Something crucial is missing.’

The mere suggestion that something might be less than perfect had her bristling defensively as she always did if anyone so much as questioned her competence. That beautifully shod foot tapped the floor. Those eyes narrowed as she mentally scrolled through the checklist she kept permanently updated in her head. ‘I can assure you that nothing is “missing”, Mal. I have been over the plans meticulously and checked every last detail personally. It will all be absolutely as planned.’

She had complete confidence in her own ability and that confidence was justified because Avery Scott never overlooked anything. Nothing escaped her. Her attention to detail drove her team mad. It had driven him mad, and yet at the same time he’d admired it because she’d built herself a successful business on the back of nothing but her own hard work. This woman had never freeloaded in her life. Nor had she ever asked anyone for anything. She was the first woman he’d met who wasn’t interested in anything he had to offer.

For a moment he felt a pang of regret, but regret was a sentiment he couldn’t afford and he moved on quickly.

‘You misunderstand me. I’m sure that everything your company has planned is perfect, as ever.’

‘So if that is the case, what can possibly be missing?’

Mal paused, hesitating because he was about to trust her with information that he hadn’t entrusted to another living soul. Even now he was wondering whether coming here had been a mistake.

‘What am I missing? The most important thing of all,’ he drawled softly. ‘I’m missing my bride.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOUR bride?’ The word clung to her dry mouth. Oh God, she was cracking up. The effort of holding it together was just too much. It was bad enough that he was here in person, but the fact that he was here to talk about his bride was a double blow. Did he have no tact? No sensitivity at all?

Shock cut through the sickness she felt at seeing him. She needed to think, but that was impossible with him dominating her office in that sleek dark suit that emphasised the width of those shoulders and the muscular strength of his powerful frame. It bothered her that she noticed his body. It bothered her even more to feel the answering response in her own. This office was her personal space. Having it invaded by him felt difficult and she hated the fact that it felt difficult because she so badly wanted to feel nothing. She was used to being in control of herself at all times. Wanted it most of all at this time.

But as that control slipped from her, she felt a buzz of panic. Over the past year she’d turned off news coverage about economic and political stability in his country. Even though her company was responsible for the evening party to follow his wedding, she’d averted her eyes from stories about that event. If she didn’t need to read it, she didn’t read it. When their paths crossed at events she was organizing or attending as a guest, she restricted their contact to a brief nod across a crowded room even though the only man in the room she ever saw was him. She’d avoided it all in an attempt to regain control of her life and her feelings. Everything she did, she did to protect herself. Mal had hurt her. And he’d hurt her so badly that seeing him now brought her right back to the edge.

What frightened her most wasn’t the sense of power and authority that could subdue a room full of people, nor was it his spectacular looks, even though the lethal combination of dark masculinity and perfect musculature was sufficient to make happily married women contemplate infidelity. No, what frightened her—what made her truly vulnerable—was the sensual gleam in those dangerous black eyes.

He was the most sexual man she’d ever met. Or maybe it was just their history that made her think that about him.

The look he gave her was reserved for her and her alone. It was a look that blatantly acknowledged a past she would rather have forgotten. It made every interaction deeply personal and the last thing she wanted was personal. She wanted to forget every intimacy they’d ever shared.

He was marrying another woman.

Remembering that, she kept her tone neutral and refused to let herself respond to that velvety dark gaze that threatened to strip away every defence she’d constructed between them. This wasn’t about her. It was about his bride.

‘Kalila is missing?’ Despite her own tangled emotions and natural instinct for self-preservation, she felt a rush of concern. She’d met Kalila on a few occasions and had found her friendly, if rather shy. The girl had seemed more than a little overwhelmed by the Prince even though they’d reportedly known one another for years. ‘Are you saying she’s been kidnapped or something?’

‘No, not kidnapped.’

‘But if she’s missing, how can you be so sure she hasn’t been kidnapped? I mean, she is a princess. I suppose there are people who—’

‘A note was delivered to me.’

‘A note?’ Her brain wasn’t working properly. All she could think about was him. ‘But—’

‘Not a ransom note. A note from her.’

‘I don’t understand.’ It was a struggle to concentrate. Looking at him sent images chasing into her head. Images that usually only haunted her when she slept.

‘She has run away—’ The words were offered up with obvious reluctance and Avery stared at him in silence. And that silence stretched so long that in the end he broke it with an impatient gesture. ‘Her reasons are irrelevant.’

‘Irrelevant?’ She shook her head to clear it of all the thoughts she shouldn’t be having. What would have driven the shy, compliant Kalila to do something so radical? ‘How can her reasons possibly be irrelevant? How can you dismiss her views like that?’

‘I’m not dismissing her views. But what matters is not the reasons she left, but getting her back.’

‘And you don’t think the two of those things might be linked? Why did she leave? For someone like Kalila to do something so dramatic, she must have had a really good reason.’

‘She doesn’t want this marriage.’ He spoke through his teeth and Avery wondered if the tension she heard in his tone reflected his irritation at the disruption of his plans or his sentiments towards his bride-to-be.

Mal was a man who was relentlessly sure of himself, a skilled negotiator, composed and in control and she knew from personal experience that he didn’t react well to anything that disrupted his plans.

‘Oh dear.’ It was a pathetic commentary on the situation but the best she could come up with. ‘That is inconvenient. Hard to get married without a bride, I do see that.’

‘It is far more than “inconvenient”. This wedding must go ahead.’

‘Because it is what her father wants?’

‘Because it is what I want. I need to reassure her that our marriage can work. I need her to know I am nothing like her father. I can protect her.’

Avery stared at him numbly.

Had he ever been this protective of her? No. Of course not. And she wouldn’t have wanted him to be. She didn’t need protecting, did she? She never had. What hurt was the fact that he could move from one woman to another with such ease. ‘So you’re about to leap onto horseback wielding your sword to protect her. Good. That’s … good. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture.’ All this time she’d been telling herself that this marriage was no more than a political union. That he didn’t have feelings for Kalila.

Clearly she’d been wrong about that, too.

He had strong feelings. Why else would he be so determined to go through with this?

Her throat felt thick. There was a burning sensation behind her eyes.

Fortunately he didn’t notice. ‘She is extremely vulnerable. Not that I’d expect you to understand that. You don’t do “vulnerable”, do you?’

He had no idea. ‘I understand that you want to slay her dragons.’

‘Whereas you would rather a man gave you a dragon so that you could slay it yourself.’

‘I’m an animal lover. If you’d bought me a dragon I would have kept it as a pet.’

Once, an exchange like that would have ended in laughter. He would have challenged her. She would have challenged him right back and eventually the clash would have led where it always led—to the bedroom, or any other place that could afford them the privacy they craved.

‘I simply think it would be wiser if she learned to protect herself.’

‘Not every woman is like you.’ There was a dark bitterness in his tone that stung wounds still not healed. She’d started to despair they ever would be.

Her stress levels soared skyward. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. Her insides were churning and suddenly she wished she hadn’t drunk the coffee on an empty stomach. ‘I do see your problem. It’s hard to get married without a bride. However, while I sympathise with your dilemma and applaud your macho protective streak, which I’m sure your bride will find extremely touching, I really don’t understand my role in this. I carry spares of most things, but not brides I’m afraid.’

‘Kalila liked you. She admired you. She considered you her friend. Or as close to a friend as someone with her life could ever have.’ His wide shoulders shifted slightly as if he were trying to ease tension and she realised that he was every bit as stressed as she was. There was a glint in those eyes, a simmering tension in that powerful frame that told her he was feeling what she was feeling. ‘I’m asking for your help.’

‘My help?’ She wondered why he made her feel vulnerable. She was tall, but his height and build overpowered her. ‘I don’t understand how I can possibly help.’ Looking at him now, she wondered how they’d ever sustained their relationship for so long. He was so autocratic. Very much the Crown Prince, a man of breathtaking power and influence. There was no sign of the man who had laughed with her and enjoyed philosophical arguments long into the night. This man was austere and, yes, intimidating. Those eyes looked straight through to her mind, seeing things she didn’t want him to see. He’d once told her that he could judge a person’s reaction more accurately from what they did than what they said. It was a skill that had stood him in good stead in handling diplomatic tensions between neighbouring countries.