A Bride For The Sheikh (9 page)

Angelina said that her father should come out with them, but he insisted that they went on their own.

“Now that I’m the project manager,” he said, “I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’ll need an early start tomorrow.”

“As long as you promise not to wait up.” Angelina smiled at her father.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He took her arm and pulled her out of Rashid’s earshot. “He seems like a nice young man, but be careful and don’t rush into anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’m a big girl, Dad. I can take care of myself.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and walked down the driveway to Rashid’s car.

“That was a lot of money you offered my dad,” she said as they drove through the gate of the compound.

“Not really. You’re worth everything to me. I’ll write him a check for double the amount if he wants.”

Angelina thought about how much ten million dollars would change her father’s life. He would never have to worry about money again and could spend the rest of his life in total ease. If she turned down Rashid, was she denying her father the right to a very comfortable retirement? Was she being selfish by not agreeing to marry him immediately? She did love him, very much, but it was all too sudden, too much to take in. She also loved her father. He had done so much for her all her life, especially in recent years when he’d made huge sacrifices to help her get through college.

She thought about her law degree that she was due to start next month. If her father had that much money, she wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of studying in London, one of the most expensive cities in the world. However, if her father took the cash, she would have to marry Rashid and what would happen to her career then? Would she sacrifice all those years of hard work and give up her place at law school for her father? She knew he wouldn’t want her to do that, but maybe she should. He had already given up so much for her already, unlike her mother.

Her mother had never sacrificed herself for anything. She could just see her mother’s face when she found out that her ex-husband, Angelina’s father, was not only rich again, but a multimillionaire. Knowing her mother, she would come crawling back, declare undying love and say that the whole thing with Timothy had been “the most dreadful mistake, darling!” Angelina laughed out loud at the thought of it.

“What’s so funny?” Rashid asked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my mother.”

“What’s she like?”

“Dreadful. She’s a bit like an older, British version of Chrystal Longhorn.”

Angelina noticed Rashid wince as she said Chrystal’s name.

“Let’s not spoil this evening talking about her,” he said. “Let’s talk about us. First, where would you like to go this evening? I know a great little place that serves the most delicious camel meat.”

Angelina wasn’t sure if she was quite in the mood for camel meat. “Why don’t we go to your place? My dad said we should get to know each other better and I haven’t even seen where you live yet.”
And possibly where we might both live one day
, she thought.

“Okay, why not?”

Rashid drove a little farther until he came to a long, white wall. Set in the middle was a huge set of solid metal gates. He pressed a button on the dashboard of his car and the gates began to swing open. “Your car is fitted with the same locking device,” he told her. “You and I are the only people with automatic access to these gates.”

“I’m amazed that you trust me so much. I could come in and steal everything you’ve got.”

“I would trust you with my life and as you’ve already stolen my heart, what more could you take?” He leant across and kissed her before driving through the gates towards a massive mansion at the end of a long driveway flanked with perfectly formed palm trees.

“You live here all by yourself?” she asked.

“More or less. There are a few other people who help out around the place.”

As soon as he stopped the car in front of the main door, two of these helpers rushed forward to open their car doors. They said something in Arabic and Rashid replied, but Angelina couldn’t understand what they were talking about.

He led her inside the cavernous interior.

“It’s just like your father’s palace,” Angelina said, looking at all the marble, gilt mirrors, and dazzling chandeliers.

“You don’t like it, do you?” he asked.

“No, it’s lovely. It’s just a bit...”

“Over-the-top,” he finished for her. “That’s what you said about my father’s palace the first evening we met. You said it was all over-the-top. After you said that, I was a bit reluctant to tell you who I was as I was already ‘over-the-top’ in love with you.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “Don’t worry, we can have the whole place completely redecorated, or we could live somewhere else. How about London? We could move there.”

“London! Don’t you have to stay here and do royal duties, or whatever you do?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t have many royal duties. I work for the local newspaper. I could be their foreign correspondent overseas.”

“But what would your parents say?”

“My mother lives overseas most of the time herself. She’s in California at the moment, and several of my brothers and cousins spend a lot of the year abroad, especially in the summer when it’s so hot. I’m sure one of them must have a spare place in London we could live in until we find a place of our own.”

“But why London?” she asked.

“Isn’t that where you plan to do your law degree? Aren’t you going to University College, London?”

Angelina knew that he’d guessed she was going to law school, but she didn’t remember telling him where. However, the last few days had been such a blur that it was possible she had and couldn’t remember. “So if we got married, I could continue my studies, my career?”

“Of course! Why would I stop you? It’s part of who you are and why I love you.” He kissed her again. “Bezira might be a conservative country, but we don’t keep our women locked away in harems, although I have a cousin, Hamad, who thinks we should!” He laughed. “There are lots of women here who have careers as doctors, bankers, lawyers, you name it. We even have a few female government ministers. Once you finish your degree, you practise law in the UK or we could come back here. Our country needs clever, honest lawyers like you.”

Angelina saw a whole new world of possibilities opening up in front of her. She could do her legal training and learn Arabic at the same time. Then she could come back and help people in abusive situations, people like Chrystal’s maid. Angelina was sure there were more immigrant workers in the same situation as that poor woman.

“Come on. Let me show you the rest of my ‘over-the-top’ home. It’s not all bad.”

Rashid led her through numerous rooms filled with priceless antiques and paintings. He showed his collection of more than forty luxury cars, including one with gold-plated wheels. “A present from my cousin, Hamad, the one I mentioned earlier,” he explained. He then showed her his Olympic-sized indoor pool and a huge free-form outdoor pool. Finally, he took her into a room that contained the biggest four-poster bed that she had ever seen in her life.

“Let me guess. This is your bedroom,” she said.

“One of them,” he replied.

“How many do you have?”

“A few. I’ll show you the one that I normally use.” He took her to another bedroom, which was connected to the first by a small room that looked like a study. The second bedroom was very plain. It looked like any bachelor’s room, with a small, single bed covered by a plain white sheet on it. Opposite the bed was a regular-sized TV and a small table covered in magazines.

“This is where I normally sleep,” he said.

“It’s not like the rest of the palace.”

“Sometimes it’s good to get away from it all. However, I don’t think this bed is big enough for the two of us.” He took her hand and led her back to the room with the four-poster.

“Is this where you take all your girlfriends?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“No, I’ve never brought anyone here before. In fact, this bed has never been slept in. I was waiting for the right person. You.” He lifted her up and lay her down on the bed, where he began to slowly undress her.

More than an hour later, he got up to take a shower. He asked her whether she wanted to go first or come in with him, but Angelina wanted to lie still in the bed and take it all in. She touched the heavy damask curtains around the bed and then looked through them to a painting that hung on the wall opposite her. It was of a voluptuous young woman, with long, reddish hair strewn around her naked shoulders. All she seemed to be wearing was a light shawl wrapped around her body, which only just covered her breasts. Angelina didn’t know a lot about art, but she was certain that the picture was a Renoir, and it wasn’t a copy, but the original oil painting. She wondered how much it had cost. Thousands of dollars? Hundreds of thousands of dollars? She wasn’t sure she could get used to living like this, surrounded by such extremes of wealth.

“Are you okay?” he asked, coming back in and rubbing his hair with a towel.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a servant to rub your hair for you,” she said.

“I do. His name’s Ali, but I think it’s a bit ridiculous having another man dry you after a shower, so he spends most of his time doing the garden. Turns out he’s a great gardener. He’s done wonders with the jasmine bushes. I’ll show you later.”

Angelina had been joking when she asked whether he had a servant to dry his hair. She felt as if she was in a completely different, alien world. “Where does all this come from? Where do you get the money for all this? Surely your job at the newspaper doesn’t pay this well!”

“I have a share of the family’s money and the family’s money basically comes from oil. However, that money is then reinvested all over the world and makes more money, so ten million turns into fifty million and that in turn becomes a billion, which then makes another billion. It’s sort of never-ending.”

“But investments can also go down. That must happen sometimes.” Angelina remembered how her father had invested and then lost all of his money in his business.

“It does, but I think the family avoids anything that’s too risky and my father’s chief finance person is a bit of a genius at these things—Harvard MBA and all that.”

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Jack Longhorn. Been here for years.”

“No relation to Chrystal, is he?”

“Yes, he’s her father.”

No wonder Chrystal had such a high opinion of herself if her father was so important.

However, Rashid seemed keen to change the subject. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I can go down to the kitchen and see what’s available.”

“I’m ravenous.” Making love to Rashid had certainly helped her to work up an appetite.

“Me too. I’ll just go and see if there’s something easy the kitchen staff can throw together for us.” He slipped on his long white robe over his head.

“Why don’t you just call someone and order something, like room service in a hotel?” she said. She wasn’t quite joking this time.

“That’s just what my cousin would say.” He laughed. “Most people do, but I hate to put the kitchen staff out, especially at short notice. I won’t be long. Make yourself at home,” he said, and he slipped out of the room.

Angelina put her clothes on and got up to further investigate her sumptuous surroundings. She wasn’t sure whether she felt as if she was in a luxury hotel or a museum: there were two other Old Master paintings on the wall and the Oriental carpet on the floor was certainly an antique. She walked through to the other bedroom where Rashid normally slept. It was strange to see such a normal room in such an opulent house. She crossed back through, going through the study to reach the room with the four-poster bed. However, as she did so, something caught her eye on the heavy wooden desk in the corner of the study. On it was what looked like an exact copy of her passport.

Angelina went over to check. She didn’t want to snoop, but she couldn’t understand why there was a copy of her documents in Rashid’s house. When she started going through the papers on his desk, she found that not only did he have a copy of her passport, but all her school qualifications as well. There was even a copy of her acceptance letter into law school from London. Now she understood how he knew so much about her. He hadn’t worked it out or guessed; he’d had her investigated. Underneath the copies of her documents was another file labelled “James Smith.” She opened it up. Inside were details about every aspect of her father’s life: his medical records, his bank details, his employment history, what he ate for breakfast (cornflakes), as well as a copy of a letter from the sheikh dated that very day asking for her father to be promoted to the highest level possible with immediate effect.

Angelina’s heart sank. It was Rashid who’d caused her father all the worry about filling in more security forms and it was Rashid who’d got him promoted to project manager.

“Angelina,” she heard him call out from the next room. “I’ve brought us a few snacks.”

Angelina grabbed the files and went into the next room. Spread out on a table was more than just a few snacks: caviar, cold cuts of meat, four different salads, bowls of fresh fruit, dates and olives, and on a large silver platter, a mountain of hot Arabic bread. If this was what the sheikh called a few snacks at short notice, she wondered what his idea of a full meal was. However, she wasn’t in the slightest bit hungry anymore.