The Sheikh's Bride. Sophie Weston

The Sheikh's Bride - Sophie Weston


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make matches for me. I’m not like you. I honestly don’t think I’m cut out for marriage.’

      Slightly to her surprise, Deborah did not take issue with that. Instead she looked thoughtful. ‘Why not? Because you’ve got too much to do being Gordon Groom’s heir?’

      Leo tensed. Here it comes, she thought. This is where she starts to attack Pops.

      She said stiffly, ‘I chose to go into the company.’

      Deborah did not take issue with that, either. She said abruptly, ‘Leo, have you ever been in love?’

      Leo could not have been more taken aback if her mother had asked her if she had ever flown to the moon.

      ‘Excuse me?’

      The moment she said it, she could have kicked herself. Deborah would take her astonishment as an admission of failure with the opposite sex. Just what she had always warned her daughter would happen if she did not lighten up, in fact.

      ‘I thought not.’

      But Deborah did not sound triumphant. She sounded worried. And for what must have been the first time in her life she did not push the subject any further.

      It made Leo feel oddly uneasy. She was used to maternal lectures. She could deal with them. A silent, preoccupied Deborah was something new in her experience. She did not like it.

      Amer had given Hari a number of instructions which had caused his friend’s eyebrows to climb higher and higher. He took dutiful notes, however. But at the final instruction he put down his monogrammed pen and looked at Amer with burning reproach.

      ‘What am I going to tell your father?’

      ‘Don’t tell him anything,’ said Amer fluently. ‘You report back to my uncle the Minister of Health. My uncle will tell him that I made the speech I was sent here to make. Et voilà.’

      ‘But they will expect you to say something at the dinner.’

      Amer gave him a wry smile. ‘You say it. You wrote it, after all. You’ll be more convincing than I will.’

      Hari bit back an answering smile. ‘They’ll find out,’ he said gloomily. ‘What will they say?’

      ‘I don’t care what a bunch of dentists say,’ Amer told him with breezy arrogance.

      ‘I wasn’t thinking of the dentists,’ Hari said ironically, ‘I was thinking of your uncle the Health Minister, your uncle the Finance Minister, your uncle the Oil Minister…’

      Amer’s laugh had a harsh ring. ‘I don’t care what they think, either.’

      ‘But your father—’

      ‘If my father isn’t very careful,’ Amer said edgily, ‘I shall go back to university and turn myself into the archaeologist I was always meant to be.’

      Hari was alarmed. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have said that the women you know were programmed to think you are wonderful. You’ve taken it as a challenge, haven’t you?’

      Amer chuckled. ‘Let us say you outlined a hypothesis which I would be interested to test.’

      ‘But why Miss Roberts?’

      Amer hesitated for the briefest moment. Then he gave a small shrug. ‘Why not?’

      ‘You said she was like stale bread,’ Hari reminded him.

      Amer’s well-marked brows twitched together in a frown.

      ‘I hope you weren’t thinking of telling her that,’ he warned.

      ‘I’m not telling her anything,’ said Hari hastily. ‘I’m not going anywhere near her.’

      Amer frowned even more blackly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not the way to stop me seeing her.’

      ‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ said Hari. A thought occurred to him. He was beginning to enjoy himself. ‘If you want to play at being an ordinary guy, the first thing you’ll have to do is fix up a date in person like the rest of us.’

      There was a startled pause. Then Amer began to laugh softly.

      ‘But of course. I never intended anything else. That’s part of the fun.’

      ‘Fun!’

      ‘Of course. New experiments are always fun.’

      ‘So she’s a new experiment. Are you going to tell her that?’ Hari asked politely.

      ‘I don’t know what I’m going to tell her yet,’ Amer said with disarming frankness. ‘I suppose it partly depends on what she tells me.’ He looked intrigued at the thought.

      ‘The first thing she’ll tell you is your name, title and annual income,’ snapped Hari, goaded.

      But Amer was not to be shaken out of his good humour.

      ‘I’ve been thinking about that. If she hasn’t recognised me so far, she isn’t going to unless someone tells her. So you’d better make the arrangements in your name.’

      ‘Oh? And what about when you turn up instead of me? Even if you can convince the maître d’ to be discreet what about the other people at the restaurant?’

      ‘I’ve thought of that, too.’ Amer was as complacent as a cat. ‘Now here’s what I want you to do—’

      Back at the hotel Leo found her father had tried to return her call twice. He had left a series of numbers where he could be contacted. Immediately, according to the message. So he was serious about it.

      Leo tapped the message against her teeth. She did not look forward to it. But years of dealing with her father had taught her that it was better to face up to his displeasure sooner rather than later. She squared her shoulders and dialled.

      ‘What’s happened?’ Gordon Groom said, cutting through her enquiries after his health and well-being.

      Leo sighed and told him.

      She kept it short. Her father liked his reports succinct. He had been known to fire an executive for going on longer than Gordon wanted.

      When she finished, slightly to her surprise, his first thought was for Mrs Silverstein. ‘How is she?’

      ‘Sleeping, I think.’

      ‘Check on her,’ Gordon ordered. ‘And again before you go to bed.’

      ‘Of course,’ said Leo, touched.

      ‘There’s a real up side opportunity here. The retired American market has a lot of growth potential for us,’ Gordon went on, oblivious.

      That was more like the father Leo knew. She suppressed a grin. ‘I’ll check.’

      ‘And what about Ormerod? Has he lost it?’

      Leo shifted uncomfortably. She had been very firm with her father that she was not going to Cairo to spy on the existing management.

      ‘Some of the local customer care is a bit archaic,’ she said carefully.

      ‘Sounds like they need an operational audit.’ Gordon dismissed the Cairo office from his mind and turned his attention to his daughter. ‘Now what about you? Not much point in making Ormerod take you back, is there?’

      Leo shuddered. ‘No.’

      Her father took one of his lightning executive decisions. ‘Then you’d better come back to London. Our sponsorship program needs an overhaul. You can do that until—’ He stopped. ‘You can take charge of that.’

      Leo was intrigued. But she knew her father too well to press him. The last thing he was going to do was tell her the job he had in mind for her until he had made sure that she was up to it.

      ‘Okay. I’ll clear up things here and come home.’

      Other


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