their interview was so cursory.
‘See my secretary and he’ll brief you. You’ll begin by meeting staff from the Department of Education. I want you involved in their work with local communities. But we’ll see how it goes.’
‘That sounds wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.’ Lina smiled wide and saw him blink. Was he surprised at her enthusiasm? ‘I’m ready to help and I’m enthusiastic about the benefits of education. I’m sure it will work out well. I enjoy meeting people and talking with them.’
Under her uncle’s roof that had got her into trouble, but recently Lina had been delighted to discover others valued her ability to connect with people. At school they’d called her a people person, as if it were a positive thing instead of a flaw.
‘Good.’ The Emir inclined his head. ‘I look forward to hearing about your progress.’
* * *
But Lina learned he didn’t want personal updates. In the ten days that followed, as she found her way more confidently around the palace, and began to attend some of the school and community visits, she rarely saw the Emir.
Occasionally she’d see him stride down the corridor with that distinctive loose-hipped, shoulders back walk, full of confidence and athletic grace. Every time her heart would skip and her mouth would dry.
Occasionally he’d spot her and nod or raise a hand in greeting. But every time he’d be on his way somewhere, accompanied by his secretary or some official.
On the positive side, she slowly found her feet in this new world. She realised quickly that her role promoting education was a manufactured position. There were professionals who already did that. Clearly the Emir had created this job to give her something useful to do.
She hated being treated as a charity case, even if that was what she was. But she was grateful for the chance to salve her pride by contributing even a little to his schemes for the country. Gradually she began to feel as if she was helping.
When the Emir’s secretary, Makram, told her she was invited to attend a dinner in the grand dining hall, she thought at first it was a mistake. But Makram didn’t make mistakes. And unlike his predecessor, he didn’t look down on her, so this wasn’t a joke at her expense. Instead he advised on the dress code and referred to an allowance the Emir had set up for her at a local bank.
Lina’s chin lifted at that news. She’d accepted enough of the Emir’s generosity. She’d saved most of the spending money she’d been sent while overseas. She couldn’t accept more. Already she was housed in unimaginable luxury.
Now Lina stroked her hands down the silky dress she’d never before worn, watching the way it hugged her figure in the mirror. She swallowed hard. Did it cling too much? It hadn’t seemed to when she’d made it in Switzerland. She twirled, the knee-length skirt flaring a little, making her wish she could go dancing. No, the dress was feminine but not revealing. The scooped neck merely hinted at her cleavage, and she’d even covered her bare arms with a pretty shawl she’d found in the markets.
Excitement vied with trepidation and Lina grinned at the woman in the mirror. She was going to a royal dinner party, as a guest, not a servant!
Would he notice her?
Would he speak to her?
Her heart danced a jig of anticipation.
She spun on her heel and swept through the door, ignoring the inner voice that warned her to be careful.
She’d been careful and conscientious for years. Tonight she intended to enjoy herself.
* * *
‘I’m pleased you’re enjoying your stay.’ Sayid smiled at the foreign professor, one of a team visiting to advise on setting up state-of-the-art research laboratories at the new university. ‘When your meetings are over you must visit the desert. I’ll have my staff arrange it.’
The man nodded and began to talk enthusiastically about the new plant recently identified in Halarq’s barren heartland. Of how a substance extracted from it might provide a breakthrough for medical research.
Sayid nodded, drawing another guest into the conversation. It would be fascinating if he hadn’t already been briefed on the details.
And if his attention wasn’t constantly diverted by the sound of laughter from the other side of the royal reception room where guests mingled before dinner.
He was pleased the guests enjoyed themselves, especially as they were such a disparate group. But it wasn’t pleasure he felt whenever the sound of good cheer reached him. It was something unsettling.
For amidst the deeper notes of male amusement came the sound of Lina’s voice, pure and true as a songbird’s, a silvery trill of delight that undid something inside him.
He hadn’t heard her laugh before. Had rarely seen her smile. Tonight, experiencing both, he found himself constantly distracted. Not because she was over-loud. But because he wanted to be there, beside her, basking in the joy that bubbled from her.
Another laugh, this time in response to a murmured male comment and Sayid felt jealousy slice his belly.
Jealousy! Of his own secretary, Makram? And, he darted a quick glance across the room, a junior member of the American Embassy staff, and a foreign businessman.
‘They’re having a good time.’ Sayid turned to see his friend, the Minister for Education, nodding towards the laughter. ‘Your Lina is a breath of fresh air.’
His Lina?
For a second Sayid’s brain stuck on the pronoun. His.
‘You know my ward?’
‘We met yesterday at a community centre near the main souk. Where the new school is being built.’
Sayid nodded. The area was in the heart of the oldest part of the city, its population a mix of highly paid professionals and urban poor. ‘I know it.’
‘I thought it clever of you to send her along with my staff. The local women related to her more than to officials. Perhaps it was the way she rolled up her sleeves and joined them in baking bread at the communal oven.’
Sayid’s gaze slewed across the room. Lina had her head back, laughing. When was the last time he’d heard uninhibited laughter at one of these events?
Her throat looked slender and sublimely elegant. The shawl of rich blue and gold had slipped down her bare arms. His gaze traced the outline of her breasts in a dress that gleamed richly, the colour of lapis lazuli. It reminded him of the gems in the royal treasury.
Lina looked as if she was born to wear silks and velvet, rubies and pearls.
She looked as if she belonged here.
He’d wondered if she’d hold her own tonight, but he needn’t have worried. She seemed completely at ease. How far she’d come from the anxious, half-defiant teenager he’d first met.
‘I didn’t know she could cook.’ But that wasn’t true. She’d offered, hadn’t she, to work in
