Royally Promoted

Chapter Four

MALIKWONDERED...

No ordinary woman would want this? Palaces, wealth beyond most people’s wildest dreams, a life in which every need was met and every whim within easy reach...really?

Lucy’s amused, heartfelt declaration that she couldn’t be less interested in stuff like that, that no ordinary woman would be, had buried in his head like a burr and had been churning around there for the past week, even though no more had been said on the subject.

Instead, he had focused on work, on familiarising Lucy with the layout of where they were staying and on introducing her to a routine with which she felt comfortable. It was up to him to ensure she settled in. He was very much aware that she was here at his request and would probably feel like a fish out of water for the first few days or even weeks.

He thought long and hard about how to ease the temporary transition and decided to stick to a routine similar to the one they had shared in London. They discussed plans for the day over a breakfast brought to them at nine sharp in the conservatory that overlooked the manicured gardens at the back. By then, he had been working for at least two hours, catching up on his own business concerns. As soon as she joined him, they dived into what had to be done that day—it was not unlike discussing plans for the day in his office in London, where she would sit opposite him scrolling through her laptop and quickly taking notes on what had to be packed in.

Twice, they had taken the Bentley to the headquarters in the capital and spent a hectic day there. Things had been well run under his father’s eagle-eyed stewardship. Concerns raised about what happened next now that Ali Al-Rashid was recuperating had to be dealt with.

Accustomed to her input, the clever way she communicated with clients, her chattiness and constant upbeat, vocal personality, a suddenly subdued Lucy had taken some getting used to.

‘Am I background enough?’ she had asked four days ago, on their return from the head office in Sarastan. Then she had smiled and he had wanted to tell her that ‘background’ was the last thing he wanted her to be—even though here it was exactly what she had to be.

‘Perfect,’ he had said instead, and she’d smiled a little more.

Then, head tilted, she’d said, ‘Well, that’s a shame. It’s very annoying not being able to chat. I don’t think I was ever this quiet even when I had laryngitis four years ago.’

Sitting here now, Malik glanced at his watch and immediately frowned at his lack of focus. His mother was talking. His mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about Lucy, thinking about how much he missed the free and easy ebullience of her rapport with him.

He was absently wondering how he had managed to become used to a working relationship with Lucy that bore no resemblance to anything he had ever experienced with a woman before. He didn’t quite know at what point he’d gone from indulging her enthusiasm for saying exactly what she thought about a thousand random things with long-suffering patience to actually expecting it and finally to enjoying it.

Was it because of the novelty of being in the company of someone who didn’t tiptoe around him? Sylvie had been a novelty for him on the romantic front. She had knocked him for six because she had been a curiosity he hadn’t been able to resist. After a diet of all the right food, she had represented something sweet and tempting but ultimately bad for him. The relationship had crashed and burned, and he would never go there again, but Lucy...?

This was completely different. She posed no threat to his peace of mind because he wasn’t and never would be romantically involved with her. He could appreciate her outspokenness because it was something that he left behind when he shut the office door behind him at the end of play.

Malik was unaccustomed to his mind drifting. He shifted, tried to bring it back to heel and tilted his head to one side as his mother, in her usual perfectly well-mannered, utterly restrained way, updated him on what his father’s consultant had said following his visit to the palace earlier.

‘Of course,’ she was saying, her voice cool and well-modulated, ‘Jafna, the senior nurse he has allocated, is in charge of dispensing all the medication. It is a complicated regime, but I am assured, once your father is fully recovered, he will be able to halve the number of tablets he is currently on. We hope for a good outcome by the end of the month.’

He looked at her and marvelled at how rigidly contained she was. Nadia Al-Rashid was a beautiful woman. Her dark hair was now lightly streaked with grey and tied back in an elegant chignon, and every inch of her was impeccably regal, from her finely chiselled features and haughty posture to the elegant, flowing gold-and-blue dress she wore that fell to the floor. She was not quite sixty, but her face was unlined.

She moved on from his father, who was resting upstairs, to Lucy, whom she had yet to meet.

‘And this young lady you have brought with you, Malik—tell me what she is like before she arrives. You say she works well alongside you?’

‘She knows the ropes,’ Malik confirmed wryly. ‘She’s clever, quick and, as I explained, there’s too much happening within my own companies to delegate to an outsider. Hence her presence in Sarastan.’

‘I understand. Your father’s secretary, Zahra... He has been upset that she will no longer have the job she has enjoyed for over two decades. She was a mature woman in her forties when your father took her on, ten years older than him, and he has much respect for her.’

Malik was startled at this piece of information because he knew next to nothing about the people in his parents lives, far less the ones who worked for his father.

He was also startled by the softening in his mother’s voice.

‘He can surely shift her to someone else?’

‘It is not as easy as that. They have a very special working relationship because her mother was a cherished retainer in our household, and I am afraid Zahra might be too old now for a transfer. Perhaps it is the same with your employee?’

Malik shifted and thought about the shapely body that had made him sit up and take notice ever since she’d come to Sarastan. Maybe that was a little different from his father and Zahra, who was probably well into her sixties if he did the maths.

Yes...definitely a different scenario.

‘Perhaps...’

He was about to return to the subject of his father when the door to the sitting room was quietly pushed open and Yusuf entered, who had been with his parents for what felt like a thousand years, bowing, his flowing white robes practically enveloping him. He was small and thin and as loyal an employee as it was possible to be.

Lucy’s arrival was announced.

Malik rose to his feet.

She had been here a little over a week and this would be her first meeting with his mother. His father would not be making an appearance; that was fine—one out of two worked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother sit up and prepare herself for the formality of entertaining a stranger.

Under normal circumstances, would she have been alarmed at the thought of them sharing the palace? Probably not. A secretary would pose no problem because, in his mother’s eyes, Lucy was so far down the pecking order socially that she wouldn’t contemplate her son being attracted to her.

Even more so now, because he had informed both his parents that, in view of changed circumstances, he was willing to wed a suitable bride. It had been one of those rare occasions when he had actually witnessed his mother reveal what was going through her head and he’d been amused at the pleased satisfaction on her face.

He stifled a grin now and wondered whether more genuine emotion might be revealed on her face when she met Lucy who, guaranteed, was probably going to be nothing like any girl she’d met before.

He sat back in the plush, velvet and highly uncomfortably erect chair and waited for his secretary to be shown in.

Standing outside, Lucy adjusted her dress.

She’d spent the past few days doing her best to contain her naturally sunny disposition. She’d met quite a number of the people who worked in various capacities for the sprawling set of Al-Rashid companies.

Actually, for the first time in her life, she’d felt a little tongue tied in Malik’s presence. Seeing him in his natural habitat had been...awe-inspiring. Of course, in London, he was the king of the jungle. He walked into a room and people fell silent. His youth was never seen as an impediment. If anything, it enhanced his status as someone formidable and gifted beyond his years. Since she’d been working for him, he had never, to her knowledge, lost money on any deal or misjudged the volatile money markets to his detriment. He issued orders and was obeyed without question.

Here...he walked into a room and people bowed. They were respectful not simply of his talent, business acumen and his crazy intelligence, they were respectful of his inherited status. He was of royal blood and what happened within his vast business concerns affected not just him but everyone in his kingdom.

Likewise, she had found herself taking a step back from being her usual effervescent self. She wasn’t awkward around him but she bit her tongue when she got the urge to say something that might get under his skin, even though he’d always laughed when she’d done that. She’d stopped saying whatever popped into her head, no longer safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t breaking any unspoken rules. Here, she felt she might be.

He hadn’t changed, and yet she felt that she was seeing a different side to him—the side to the man who would marry for duty.

She hadn’t asked him anything about the marriage plan and he’d said nothing. Were there women lined up for him? He was following in his parents’ footsteps.

As she fussed with her dress, she wondered what his mother would be like. Would she set the benchmark for what a suitable bride for her son might resemble?

In accordance with the nerve-racking dinner that awaited her, she had done her best to dress for the occasion. The dress was the most formal in her repertoire. It was long, with a pattern of small flowers, and the sleeves, also long, were softly flowing, as was the rest of the dress. Lucy had bought it because, when she did a fast circle in it, she felt wonderfully light, as though she was a butterfly about to spread its wings and flutter away.

Which was a great feeling, because she certainly wasn’t anything like a dainty butterfly in appearance. She breathed in deeply as the door was gently pushed open and a bowing Yusuf stepped aside to allow her to go past him.

The magnificent room into which she was shown brought her to an abrupt stop. It was richly decorated in blue and cream and the silk rug that covered most of the floor was absolutely enormous, the size of a football field. The palette of colours that adorned it was dizzyingly beautiful.

Lucy walked slowly inside and, for a few seconds, couldn’t resist casting her eyes around her as she admired the tapestry that hung on one of the walls, the vibrant, stylised paintings, the clusters of formal chairs and tables and then, at last...the woman looking at her in silence.

And sitting alongside her... Malik.

This wasn’t a Malik she immediately recognised because he was formally dressed in the robes of his country. Loose black-and-gold silk fell to his ankles as he stood. He moved towards her and her heartbeat sped up until she thought her heart would actually jump out of her chest.

Her eyes widened, and they widened even further as he leant into her and whispered devilishly, ‘Are you ready for me to make the introductions, Lucy, or should I see if I can find some smelling salts instead? Because you look as though you’re about to faint.’

‘Very funny.’ But her heart was all over the place.

‘It’s a little grander than where we’re currently staying.’

‘You could have warned me.’ Her eyes skittered beyond him to his mother, who was looking at them both with a guarded, unreadable expression.

She smiled a wavering smile.

‘No point.’ He straightened but his dark eyes were still amused. ‘I very much like the outfit, by the way,’ he murmured. ‘It makes a change from all those muted colours you’ve been wearing since you got here. I was beginning to wonder whether the Lucy I’ve become accustomed to had been replaced with a clone.’

‘I did bring lots of bright stuff. They’re just in my wardrobe waiting for the right moment to make their grand entrance.’

She felt colour steal into her cheeks. The compliment might have been a throwaway one, but it still somehow had the capacity to make her feel all hot and bothered. Upon which she broke away and walked towards the austere and stunningly beautiful woman sitting upright on one of the chairs.

It was a struggle not to falter. Normally an instinctively good judge of character, she had no idea what the older woman was thinking. Was that cool look concealing boredom, curiosity, disapproval? Maybe she was planning dinner menus for the month.

She wanted to glance back to Malik for moral support but she reminded herself that she was well able to stand on her own two feet. Her boisterous family had prepared her to have a voice and to use it without fear.

She also reminded herself that, however terrifying this beautiful woman was, she was also a woman who had just recently had to cope with the shock of her husband having a heart attack, and at an age that was still relatively young.

Her natural warmth and empathy brought a smile to her face.

‘Mother, this is my secretary, Lucy.’

Introductions were made. Lucy thought that ‘Nadia’ was a wonderful name. She wondered whether she should curtsey and decided that there was nothing to lose.

‘Mrs Al-Rashid...or should I address you as something else? Your son never said. In fairness, I didn’t get round to asking. Your Majesty...’

‘Nadia will be fine, my dear, and please, there is no need for you to curtsey.’

‘I just want to say how deeply, deeply sorry I was to hear of your husband’s heart problems.’

‘That is very kind of you to say so. He is, fortunately, in the best possible hands.’

‘Yes, your son told me. How wonderful. It must be so reassuring to know that you have the very best that the medical world can offer.’ She looked at her hostess earnestly whilst still in awe of just how stunningly beautiful she was. ‘Sometimes it can all be a little hit and miss, at least in the UK.’

‘Hit and miss?’

‘Doctors rushed off their feet... Nurses in a tizzy running here, there and everywhere—amazing at what they do, but it’s non-stop. I believe—I read.’

‘Lucy, perhaps you’d like something to drink?’

Malik’s voice from behind brought her sharply back to her feet and she reddened.

‘You have a wonderful place here, Mrs... Your Majesty... Nadia.’

‘Lucy...’

Malik emerged from behind to stand directly in front of her, a looming, six-four, ridiculously good-looking version of his striking mother.

‘Why don’t you sit? Tea will be served.’

Nadia’s lips were twitching, moving to a smile.

‘I apologise...er... Nadia...ma’am,’ Lucy murmured, shuffling into one of the upright chairs and feeling vaguely mortified at her lack of finesse. ‘I tend to talk a little too much when I’ve nervous.’

‘But why are you nervous, my dear?’

‘Well...’

‘We are very relaxed and hospitable hosts, Ali and I, and of course it is a pleasure to meet the girl of whom my son has spoken so highly.’

‘Has he?’ Lucy glanced across to Malik from under her lashes and was surprised to find him looking a little off-kilter at the direction of the conversation.

‘Well, he really should,’ she said tartly. If sharing space with four sisters and her outspoken parents had done one thing, it was to have taught her that she had a voice and, just so long as she wasn’t being mean, cruel or offensive, then it was there to be heard. ‘Because without me—’ she snapped her fingers, magician-style ‘—he just wouldn’t know what to do when it comes to an awful lot of his deals. It’s like that with all of us working behind the scenes.’ Lucy dimpled. ‘Our bosses don’t know it, but we PAs actually are the ones who make the whole place run efficiently.’

Nadia smiled. ‘I believe you, my dear.’ The dark eyes twinkled. ‘And I hope you make sure to tell him that often. Tea?’

Tea was brought and served and Lucy unwound, enjoying this regal woman with the dark eyes that lit up with amusement at some of the things Lucy said to her. Sitting to one side with a dainty cup balancing precariously on his thigh, Malik watched their interaction without giving away a thing on his face.

This man who was so devastatingly handsome in his formal robes, the robes of the man before whom people bowed, sprawled on a chair that was way too small for his towering frame, made her shiver with emotions she couldn’t identify. He was the same and yet so incredibly different.

She thought of the easy familiarity they’d shared and in a heartbeat she realised how easy it would be for her to be completely over-awed by this new version of the guy she worked for. Seeing people bowing to her boss, it was hard for her not to slowly fall in line and put him on a pedestal where subservience became the norm.

It would be even easier for him to accept that, she was sure. From everything she had seen, it was what he had grown up with—a life of unimaginable privilege where he was obeyed without fear of dissent. Had he ever had anything happen in his life to shatter that comfortable illusion?

The conversation moved back to Malik’s father.

Lucy let her mind drift for a while as she nibbled some of the delicacies that had been brought in for them. They were delicious. She surfaced to a lull in the conversation and immediately filled it with sincere remarks about the nibbles.

‘Thank you, Nadia, for inviting me here.’ Lucy stood up, taking her cue from Malik. Nadia likewise stood up, as tall and slender as a willow, and Lucy impulsively hugged her.

‘I really feel for you,’ she confided, drawing back to look up at the older woman, who was smiling at her. ‘Your son isn’t great when it comes to talking about anything of a personal nature, but I just want to say how pleased I am that your husband is on the path to recovery. You know—and this is just my personal belief...’

She leaned forward, tilting up to look at her hostess and continued earnestly, ‘You can sometimes get just scared stiff of small things after you’ve had a health scare. My aunt had a stroke a few years ago and it took her ages to get back to the things she’d grown fond of doing.’

‘Lucy...’ Malik tapped his watch. ‘Time is moving along...’

‘Hush, Malik, and let the child finish what she has begun to say.’

When Lucy looked at her boss, she was surprised at his dumbfounded expression and instantly rueful, feeling that she had maybe gone a step too far without realising it.

Was a hug a little too much? Because she had been excused from curtseying didn’t mean that she was at liberty to drop all formalities. She blinked, suddenly skewered with doubt.

‘I am afraid I do not quite understand you, my dear. Your aunt?’

Lucy mentally took a deep breath and carried on, because she was who she was, but she was inching ever so slightly back towards the door, conscious that Malik was ready to leave. ‘Was very much into mountaineering.’

‘Mountaineering?’

She stopped and thought of Aunt Maud, a proud spinster who was fond of preaching about the advantages of nature over men. Lucy had often thought cynically that she was preaching to the converted, after Colin and her broken heart. ‘Loved it. She used to say that she was wed to nature because it would endure the test of time so much better than any marriage. She became quite hesitant about climbing after her health scare...’

‘Lucy,’ Malik said firmly, ‘I’m really not convinced my mother is particularly interested in the ins and outs of mountaineering...’

Lucy reddened.

‘But, Malik, I am keen to hear the rest of the story.’ There was a distinct smile in Nadia’s voice.

‘But eventually,’ Lucy concluded, looking over her shoulder to her brooding boss and saying sweetly to him in a rapid undertone, ‘And I’m cutting this story as short as I can, Malik, believe me.

‘Aunty Maud came to terms with the fact that life was there for living to the fullest and so she began taking small steps to overcome her fear. Of course, she never really could do the big mountains again, but she still enjoys exploring.’

‘I understand what you are saying, Lucy, and of course we all hope that our beloved Ali returns to his duties as soon as possible.’ Nadia smiled, a smile that softened the austere lines of her beautiful face. ‘Although, as you wisely point out, some of his activities might have to be curtailed. He will tire. I hope, however, that his optimism remains tireless.’

‘I would definitely discourage him from thinking about mountaineering.’ Lucy grinned and, unexpectedly, Nadia laughed, a light, girlish laugh.

‘I will certainly remember your aunt and her curtailed escapades, although Ali and mountains are not a natural mix.’

‘Perhaps I can get to meet your husband some time,’ Lucy said warmly.

‘You certainly will, my child.’

Lucy was quite unaware of Malik’s dark eyes resting coolly on her amid the polite farewells as they were ushered to the door. His mother fell back, allowing one of the staff to pull open the front door, and the still warm, humid night air wrapped around them. She’d been apprehensive about what to expect and had been pleasantly surprised, because the very limited picture Malik had painted had been of a couple who were so rigidly traditional that any stray word would have had her escorted to the nearest tower for instant beheading.

As soon as they were in the car, and still basking in the relief of not having made a fool of herself in front of his illustrious parent, Lucy spun to look at Malik with bright eyes.

‘She’s nothing like I thought she was going to be!’ She had tugged her hair over one shoulder and was playing with the ends of it.

‘What do you mean?’

Malik was leaning back against the seat, legs splayed, his hands resting lightly on his thighs.

What had he expected of this brief social call? He didn’t know. Perhaps a cool, polite visit, over before it had begun. As he had expected, tea had been exquisite. He had known that his father wouldn’t be making an appearance and his mother, also as expected, had been her usual elegant, coldly beautiful self.

So far, so good.

He’d felt a little sorry for Lucy, landing in this place of well-bred civility, which he supposed would be a family dynamic which was the polar opposite of what she had grown up accustomed to.

He hadn’t expected her to throw herself with gusto into their perfunctory visit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his mother laugh and he hadn’t seen her so relaxed since... Frankly, it escaped him. Had his father’s illness softened her? Or had he just never looked deep enough to someone else behind the sophisticated, distant fa?ade?

Along had come Lucy and drawn something out of his mother that he had never quite managed to get hold of and now Malik frowned, uncomfortable with that thought.

‘You told me that your parents were extremely reserved.’

‘They are.’

‘I suppose when you said traditional that I was expecting something else.’

‘Where is this conversation going, Lucy?’

‘Does it have to go anywhere? I’m just saying how lovely I thought your mother was and not at all as I thought she was going to be. First off, she’s really beautiful. I mean really beautiful. What does your father look like?’

‘My father looks like a man recuperating after major heart surgery.’

‘I can tell that your mother’s worried sick about him and misses him—something in her eyes whenever she talks about him. But I have to admire her restraint, her poise. I suppose,’ she said pensively, staring at Malik but not really seeing him, and definitely missing his frowning disapproval of the conversation, ‘That’s the sort of thing you would be looking for in this woman you’ll be interviewing for the role of wife. I’d really love to meet your dad some time—’

‘Enough, Lucy!’

Lucy blinked, focused and then frowned.

‘Sorry?’

‘I introduced you to my mother as an act of courtesy. You’re staying with me at the palace, and of course there would come a time when it would be appropriate for you to meet her. That’s now been done and dusted.’

‘Done and dusted?’

Malik looked at her in brooding silence, lips thinned, wondering how to steer this conversation away from choppy waters. At any rate, choppy waters for him,because he was unsettled by what was beginning to feel like an invasion of his privacy.

This didn’t happen. No woman had ever been introduced to any family member before and he had never been tempted to go there. Family introductions fell into the category of the sort of cosy arrangements that led to unrealistic expectations of the kind he didn’t want. Whatever ground rules he’d laid down with the women he’d dated in the past, there had always been some who’d wanted more than he was ever prepared to give.

Of course, Lucy was in a different category, and meeting his mother had been a matter of courtesy more than anything else, but even so...

His reaction was an automatic, ingrained response to anyone trying to trespass into his private terrain, which was what this felt like. He reminded himself that Lucy was Lucy, that her interest was to be expected and that he had never tried to dampen down her natural exuberance or her intellectual curiosity, so why would he start now?

She would be confused. He’d introduced her to his mother, so why would he suddenly be tense at her responding to the visit with her usual outspoken candour?

‘Of course, you may meet my father in due course.’ He reined in his natural instinct to shut her down and protect a slice of private life that, he decided, honestly didn’t need protecting from a woman who wasn’t after anything. ‘But, like I said, he’s still very frail after his operation. He tires easily and spends much of the day resting. I hear from him in sound bites because it’s vital I find out certain things on the business front.’

Sudden silence gathered between them and Malik shifted, annoyed with himself for being short with her, making a mountain out of a molehill.

She wasn’t looking at him. She was staring straight ahead, and the angle of her head was proudly defiant, her expression tight-lipped. Something placatory seemed required. That said, it was important that he conveyed the important message that she shouldn’t overstep his boundary lines, even inadvertently. That message was more important to him than smoothing ruffled feathers. Ruffled feathers would smooth over perfectly fine in due course.

‘Lucy,’ he said gently, ‘as with my “interviewing a wife”, as you insist on calling it, my family life is not a place you will be frequenting. Maybe, in passing, you might meet my father before you go but—’

‘I get it.’

She swung round so that she was staring at him. Their eyes tangled and neither looked away.

She did get it, and she wanted to shout at him exactly what it was she got. She’d been so pleased when they’d left his mother’s palace because all her apprehensions about meeting his mother had proved unfounded. It had been a fantastic visit and it had left her wanting more. She’d been greedy to see more of the life that had shaped her charismatic boss and that was a mistake. He’d obviously sensed something behind her effervescent responses and he’d backed off at speed.

Duty visit to meet the mother? Tick.

Any kind of encore? Not on the cards.

He was reminding her of her place in his life: an employee who was paid for doing a job and not someone who should get it into her head that she might be anything more just because she’d met his mother.

The Bentley slowed to circle the enormous courtyard, stopping in front of the magnificent palace.

‘Tell me what you get,’ Malik murmured. He circled his hand around her arm to stop her leaping out of the car as soon as it stopped and it was as hot as a branding iron. Lucy’s thoughts scattered and she breathed in deeply, finding the will power from somewhere to manage a reply.

His touch...scorching her skin and shooting her body down pathways that were confusing and electric.

‘I get it that you introduced me to your mother because you felt you had no choice, not really, but that’s as far as it goes.’ She was breathing heavily, and he hadn’t moved his hand, which was making thinking difficult.

Ahead of them, the brightly illuminated palace shone, nestled amid its opulent greenery, the ocean of sand just dark shadows all around.

Malik stared. He could actually hear his own breathing but then fancied that he was imagining it.

Yet he was gripped by something that made the words still in his throat. He was driven to look at her breasts, heaving as she breathed fast, and had to grit his teeth to resist the urge. Her skin under his fingers was soft and smooth. Her tumbling vanilla-blonde hair tempted his fingers to explore. He released her abruptly and sat back but he knew that he was shaking.

‘Spot on,’ he said coldly. He raked his fingers through his hair, barely aware of his driver patiently waiting until the order was given for him to open the passenger doors. Malik duly rapped on the privacy glass separating them, and at once the driver leapt out to open Lucy’s door.

‘Back to the routine tomorrow, Lucy, but I’m glad we understand one another.’

He broke eye contact and pushed open his door to vault outside into the humid air, only taking a couple of seconds to breathe in deep and stamp down the unexpected surge in his libido that had taken a sudden battering ram to his self-control.