Woman in a Sheikh's World. Sarah Morgan
is a lawyer. We didn’t talk at the dinner table, we debated.’
‘I know. I still remember the one time you invited me for tea.’ Jenny shuddered. ‘It was a terrifying experience. But it does explain why you can’t admit that you cared for the Prince. Your mother dedicated her life to ending marriages.’
‘They were already broken when she got involved.’
Jenny closed her book. ‘So this wedding is fine with you? Pride is going to finish you off, you know that, don’t you? That and your overachieving personality—another thing I blame your mother for.’
‘I thank my mother. She made me the woman I am.’
‘A raving perfectionist who is truly messed up about men?’
‘I won’t apologise for wanting to do a job properly and I am not messed up about men. Just because I’m the child of a strong single parent—’
‘Avery, I love you, but you’re messed up. That one time I came for tea, your mum was arguing the case for doing away with men altogether. Did she ever even tell you the identity of your father? Did she?’
The feelings came from nowhere. Suddenly she was back in the playground again, surrounded by children who asked too many questions.
Yes, she knew who her father was. And she remembered the night her mother had told her the truth as vividly as if it had happened just yesterday. Remembered the way the strength had oozed from her limbs and the sickness rose in her stomach.
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