was frowned into silence. Karim had given strict instruction that his title was not to be used within the hotel—his security team were miserable enough with his jogging and walking the London streets, without alerting the public that there was a sheikh royal prince in their midst.
‘Sir!’ The waiter changed his words with a cough.
Karim was about to decline. He thought of Mandy, ever ready and waiting, and then looked to where Felicity stood. Her face was blushing scarlet, her eyes so startled he half expected her to turn and run. Maybe he should just let her. But he remembered again the attraction that had flared in the presentation room, that unacknowledged arousal between them that had rendered him so hard he had had to get out. He decided the effort might be worth it—he wanted to go there again.
‘Would you like to join me?’
He saw the dart of her eyes, and—always smooth, always polite—said the right thing. ‘Forgive me—that was crass. Of course you do not have to join me. There is no obligation.’
‘I know…’ Felicity managed a small laugh as he voiced her urgent thoughts and then checked herself. Her accommodation was sorted, and now the most impossibly attractive man was asking her for dinner…So what if it couldn’t lead to anything? So what if there was no point in pursuing a romance with this man? She hadn’t had a night out or off in months.
Staring into his black eyes, at that moment the answer was easy. ‘I’d love to join you, except…’ She gestured to her crumpled and soaked linen suit.
‘The hotel will sort that…’ He waved his hand as if it were that easy. ‘And I can give you an update on the mother and baby over dinner.’
‘Thank you.’ Felicity nodded.
‘We will meet at eight,’ Karim said. ‘Here?’
‘That would be lovely.’
It would be lovely, Felicity thought as Karim stalked out of the hotel lounge. But, glancing at her watch, she realised she had only just over an hour to prepare! So, after ringing her mother to tell her a rather loose version of her plans, Felicity snapped into urgent mode and dashed to a chemist. She bought some stockings, a toothbrush and paste, and some hair serum, and then went up to her room.
Only it wasn’t a room—it was a suite. A vast sprawling suite, with flowers and chocolates and even a bucket of champagne cooling in a silver bucket.
And then someone knocked at the door.
Her heart stilled. She was nervous that it was Karim, that she had misinterpreted the exceptionally friendly gesture after all.
But it was a woman with an instant wardrobe on a trolley, that she wheeled into Felicity’s room. Felicity just stood there as she was informed to help herself, and told that her own clothes would be laundered and back to her by morning.
She couldn’t get her head around it. She was used—too used—to being two steps ahead of everything, to being the one who anticipated problems, the one who sorted things out. Yet since she had stepped into the hotel—since her first greeting from Noor—she had been looked after, her needs anticipated, and she had been rewarded for a job well done too.
It felt nice.
Unfamiliar, but very, very nice.
Peeling off her damp clothes, Felicity took in her suite.
It had everything—and she hadn’t needed to worry about the toothpaste and brush. The little basket of goodies in the bathroom contained everything a girl might need, Felicity thought as she found a teeny pump bottle of hair serum. And even things a girl didn’t need too…
Like condoms!
Oh, Karim had assured her there were no obligations, but that wasn’t why she dropped them like a hot coal. Whatever Karim might be expecting from her, it was never going to happen.
Felicity sat, deflated, on the edge of the huge oval bath and stared at herself in the mirror.
Her blonde hair was tumbled, there was still a flush of excitement in her cheeks, and her blue eyes were glittering at the prospect of dinner with Karim. But, as Paul had found out, dinner was all it would ever be. What if tonight went well? Felicity worried. What if he asked to see her again? And what if they went out for a few weeks…? She screwed her eyes closed at the prospect. At what point did you tell someone? She knew it was impossible for them to have a relationship, knew it was pointless to pursue it, but she did want dinner with him…
And dinner was all it could ever be for her—even with a man as dashing as Karim.
CHAPTER THREE
HE WAS waiting for her.
Karim stood as she walked into the hotel lounge, and his decision as to his choice of date for the night was instantly confirmed as the right one.
She was wearing a pale grey woollen dress, a modest dress—yet it clung nicely to her trim waist, and Karim noticed the scooped neckline. It accentuated her full bust…
He had idly wondered what she would achieve in an hour. Used to summoning mistresses, he had women on tap and permanently ready. This one was not used to his ways, and yet she had done exceptionally well! No one would possibly guess that just a short while ago she had been saving a life in the driving rain.
Her hair, that had been tied back in all of the short time he had known her, was loose now. Soft and newly washed, it fell over her shoulders. Her long, slim legs were encased in stockings, her feet in dark grey stilettos.
Yes, he was glad of his choice of company for the night. But as he placed his hand on her elbow and guided her through the restaurant, and she shot forward at the slight contact, he knew it was going to be a long one! Unashamedly he had checked her CV. He knew that she was twenty-six and single, yet she was acting like a gauche teenager on her first date.
Oh, well, Karim decided glancing at his watch. If they weren’t in bed by eleven he could be at Mandy’s by twelve!
He’d give her three hours!
The menu was impossible. Oh, there was plenty that at first glance she liked, but sitting opposite Karim made the simplest decision impossible. He was wearing a different suit, had used his hour to shower and change too. Felicity could see that—and smell it. She was somewhat relieved and a little irritated too when his phone rang. He answered it, and after a brief apology spoke to whoever was on the line in rapid Arabic.
‘I am sorry about that.’ He put his phone down, and then picked it up again and turned it off. ‘That was an old friend and colleague of mine. He is working at the hospital the casualties were taken to—he always speaks in our own language.’
‘How are they?’ Felicity asked, glad now that he had taken the call, but worried as to what she might hear.
‘The mother has regained consciousness. She had another seizure on arrival, but she is doing well.’
‘And the baby?’
‘Is in Theatre now,’ Karim said. ‘It will take a while, but the surgeons are
