CHAPTER FOUR
Present day...
TADJ’S WORLD TILTED on its axis as a woman in a red dress stepped out of the kitchen.
‘Excuse me, Your Excellency,’ he said, startling his ambassador to London. ‘Something extraordinary has just happened.’
‘Of course, Your Majesty...’ Raising his portly form as quickly as he could the ambassador bowed to his ruler and employer, the Emir of Qalala, as Tadj, an exceptionally striking-looking man, left the table where they’d been dining incognito, to stride across the floor.
Sensing his approach, the young woman turned and stared, paling, as if she’d seen a ghost.
Three months earlier...
A CASUAL COFFEE in the steamy café next door in her lunch break from work at the laundry had never involved plugging Lucy’s body into a power source before. Lined up at the counter behind a red-hot Goliath with shoulders wide enough to hoist an ox, she reasoned it was only natural to be distracted, as her heart beat nineteen to the dozen. He was deeply tanned, with thick, inky-black hair that curled possessively over his neck in a way that made her fantasise about making it even more unruly; his short, rugged jacket might have been designed for no better purpose than to display his iron-hard butt, and long, lean legs. He was so big he achieved the impossible by making her feel dainty for the first time in her life. She was the woman targeted by slimming magazines who always planned to lose weight. And she would, just as soon as chocolate was written out of history.
‘Would you like to go ahead of me?’
She almost fainted when he swung around.
‘Are you speaking to me?’ popped out of her mouth before her brain was in gear. Silly question, when the most devastating black stare was directed straight into her eyes. It was the most arousal-inducing stare she’d ever been subjected to. There were eyes of all description, some of them very beautiful, but these were astonishingly beautiful eyes.
‘Can you move along, please? People are waiting to be served.’
Jerking alert as the lady behind the counter bellowed the instruction, Lucy shuffled along in line, and in doing so managed to stumble into Goliath.
‘Perhaps you should sit down before you cause a pile-up,’ he advised with amusement. His deep, husky voice with the intriguing accent, combined with his big, firm hands steadying her, blew her mind. ‘Now?’ he suggested as she stared at him transfixed. ‘I’ll get the drinks while you find the table.’
Finally, she came to. ‘Do I know you?’
‘I don’t believe so,’ he said, staring down from his great height. ‘Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Something to eat, perhaps?’
By now, people had turned to stare. One or two, having recognised Lucy, nodded and gave her a thumbs-up expression. She didn’t want to make a fuss. This was her local greasy spoon. Nor did she want to bolt, giving the man the impression he intimidated her. Who was he? she wondered. There was only one way to find out. ‘Coffee would be nice...thank you. Skimmed milk, two shots, please.’
As he turned to place their order she became aware of the buzz of interest in the café; most of it directed her way. Should she know him? Was he a celebrity? If only she paid more attention to the press. Maybe he had called in at the laundry while she was working in the back; no one could forget a face like that. He could pass for a sailor with his deep tan and super-fit appearance, but, with his commanding manner and expensive casual look, he didn’t strike her as crew.
‘When you’re ready,’ he prompted as he waited for their coffee to be prepared. ‘The table,’ he reminded her. ‘There aren’t many free. Better get moving.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, saluting ironically, but not before she’d absorbed his clean, spicy scent.
She did go to find a table, even though she wasn’t a fan of domineering men. This man had redeemed himself with that curving, dark-eyed smile. She guessed he used it a lot, but this was a packed café, and not much could go wrong over a coffee. It wouldn’t hurt to give him five minutes to see how he turned out. Her chums at the laundry were always complaining that nothing exciting ever happened, so at the least she’d be able to tell them about this when she got back to work.
She’d hidden herself away long enough.
As the unwanted thought shot into her mind, she shivered involuntarily, and recollections of her cruel, abusive stepfather came flooding back. Her mother’s second husband headed up a criminal empire peopled by ruthless thugs. Thank goodness he was in prison where he belonged. Lucy had left home at her mother’s insistence, to escape
