‘It seems so,’ Miss Francine agreed briskly as she helped Millie to tuck the fabulous sheets into a fine cotton sack they used for the most delicate fabrics before washing them.
‘He’s been gone a long time,’ Millie added in a lame attempt to keep the conversation alive. ‘I guess Sheikh Saif had to stay out of the country after the accident.’
‘Millie,’ Miss Francine interrupted in a concerned tone.
Millie had never seen her elderly friend looking so worried. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘I should have told you right away,’ Miss Francine explained with a regretful shake of her head. ‘It isn’t Sheikh Saif on board the Sapphire. He died some years ago—of overeating, the press said,’ she added with a grimace for Millie, who was too shocked to speak. ‘You were away on that oil rig as part of your work experience when he died.’
‘Who then?’ Millie managed to force out. ‘Who’s on the Sapphire?’
‘His brother, Sheikh Khalid,’ Miss Francine revealed in a businesslike manner Millie had no doubt was gauged to cause her the least distress.
Nothing helped. Millie felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs as Miss Francine continued, ‘Sheikh Saif’s death only made a few column inches in the press, and you were so upbeat when you came home that I couldn’t bear to dampen your enthusiasm by bringing up the past.’
‘Thank you,’ Millie said numbly.
‘You don’t have to thank me for anything,’ Miss Francine insisted as she rested a reassuring hand on Millie’s shoulder.
There was nothing more to say, and they both fell silent. Millie had been a Saturday girl at the laundry at the time of her mother’s tragic death, Miss Francine had stepped in right away, offering her a place to live. Home had been a room above the laundry ever since.
‘Of course, no one mentioned Sheikh Saif’s death to me,’ Millie mused dazedly, ‘because...’ She shrugged. ‘Why would they?’
Was she imagining it, or was Miss Francine finding it hard to meet her eyes?
‘I owe you everything,’ she said, giving her elderly friend an impulsive hug.
When Miss Francine left her side, Millie put her work on autopilot, so she could think back to what she remembered about Prince Khalid. Which was quite a lot. Never had anyone made such a strong impression on her. Most of it good. All of it awe-inspiring. And confusing. She’d thought him one thing, which was hero material, but he’d turned out to be something very different. And she must think of him as Sheikh Khalid now, Millie amended as images of blazing masculinity came flooding back. The sternest of men was now an omnipotent ruler. She could only imagine the changes in him. A few minutes in his company had been enough to brand his image on her soul. She could still see him striding up the Sapphire’s gangplank like an avenging angel to rescue her mother. But he hadn’t rescued her mother. He’d let her down. And at some point during that terrible night, Millie’s mother had either fallen from the Sapphire, or she’d been pushed.
Bracing herself, she stared out of the window. It was impossible to miss the Sapphire at rest in its berth. The superyacht was as big as a commercial cruise liner, and easily the biggest ship in the harbour. It was like a call to destiny that she couldn’t avoid. She tried not to show how tense she was when Miss Francine came back. ‘It’s had a complete refit,’ her elderly friend explained. ‘When Sheikh Khalid inherited the throne of Khalifa from his brother, he insisted that the ship must be gutted and refitted. Gossip on the marina says that everything on board is cutting edge.’ There was a long pause, and then she added carefully, ‘Nothing ever remains the same, Millie.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Millie agreed. She knew Miss Francine was just trying to help. ‘And I’m all right,’ she added briskly, with a reassuring smile for her friend. ‘However fabulous the Sapphire looks, it has moving parts that need to be fixed.’
Miss Francine laughed as Millie hoped she would. ‘Taking your tool kit on board?’ she suggested.
Millie narrowed her eyes. ‘You can bet I’ll be fully prepared by the time I board.’
‘I’m sure you will be,’ Miss Francine agreed quietly.
‘My life is here with you,’ Millie said. ‘And it’s very different from the life I had at fifteen. You’ve given me a happy home where I’m safe, and a launch pad so I can work towards a successful career. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.’
‘I don’t want your thanks,’ Miss Francine assured her. ‘I couldn’t love you more if you were my daughter.’
As they hugged, Millie reflected that she certainly didn’t owe the Sheikh of Khalifa anything, other than contempt for letting her down. He was on board the Sapphire the night of her mother’s death, and when the authorities had come calling, he’d made sure to keep his brother out of the courts.
‘I’ll take the sheets on board, and be back before you know it,’ she said with confidence. She was grimly determined to do just that, if only to prove to herself that the past couldn’t hurt her.
Miss Francine exclaimed with relief, ‘Bravo!’
* * *
Dressed in formal, flowing black silk robes trimmed with gold, Khalid was looking forward to reclaiming the informality he enjoyed on board the Sapphire, but before he could relax he had business to attend to. He had just received a deputation from the local council asking for his support with its youth plan, which accounted for his dress code of regal opulence. This world tour had lasted long enough, he concluded as he appended a final signature to the document that would fund his latest project. Staring out through the rain-lashed windows of his study, he reflected on the significance of King’s Dock. His educational trust had been born here, because of an incident that had changed his life. He had never thought to return, but neither would he neglect an opportunity to help young people gain a foothold in life. He had been asked for help, so he was here, and now he was here he couldn’t leave without having reassured himself about certain issues.
Closing his eyes, he eased his neck. He longed for the cleansing heat of the desert and the cooling waters of the oasis, but the truth of that terrible night wouldn’t go away. Pushing back from his desk, he stood up, and was glad of a muted tap on the door to distract him.
‘Come...’
His housekeeper entered and stood politely just inside the entrance. ‘The Gilded Stateroom is almost ready for your inspection, Your Majesty.’
‘Thank you. Please let me know when the final touches have been made, and I’ll inform you if I require anything else.’
‘Of course, Your Majesty.’ With a curtsey his housekeeper left the room.
He didn’t check every guest room, but this was for a particular guest, his old friend Tadj. Otherwise known as His Radiance, the Emir of Qalala, Tadj and he had been friends since school and university, and had joined Special Forces together. Khalifa and Qalala were trading partners, with valuable sapphire mines adjacent to each other in the mountains of Khublastan. The boundaries of several countries converged in this same region, which had led to their rulers becoming known collectively as the Sapphire Sheikhs. He was looking forward to Tadj’s arrival.
