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What to wear to a billionaire’s party when you wanted to blend into the crowd? That was the burning question. Millie should have asked about the dress code, she realised now. Sheikh Khalid had mentioned something about a casual evening. Good. Casual she could do. An apprentice engineer had more overalls in her closet than frocks, but she did have one nice dress.
It was red, which was unfortunate. Would it make her stand out too much? She didn’t want to look as if she’d tried too hard. She’d bought it in the sales, thinking it perfect for the next Christmas party. At least it was an unfussy style, just a simple column of bright red silk. Having made her decision, she hung the dress on the back of the door.
Hair up or down? She’d tie it back, Millie decided. Tossing her long, honey-gold hair for effect wasn’t her style. Having trialled a few different looks, she settled on her customary messy up-do. She’d got the knack of arranging that now, but she swopped out the infamous pencil for a simple mock tortoiseshell clip.
Shoes?
Wearing high heels on a ship grated, somehow. She compromised with a strappy flat.
Underwear. She rootled through her drawer. Sensible big knickers, obviously...
So why was she holding a flimsy thong?
Who was going to see what she wore? No one. So she settled for the thong. It wouldn’t show any lines beneath the dress.
As she got ready she kept on glancing out of the window to where the Sapphire was berthed and blazing with light. When she’d finished she leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to blot out that other party and replace it with the new. If she didn’t, she’d never have the courage to step back on board the Sapphire.
Music from the superyacht wafted over the marina and into Millie’s bedroom. It was tasteful, tuneful music. She’d be all right. She had to be. No one could pick up the pieces. She had to do that for herself, and owed it to her mother to move forward, which was exactly what she intended to do.
Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time, she declared, ‘No problem. I’m ready to enter the lion’s den.’
* * *
Khalid frowned as he paced the deck. The band was playing, and his stewards were putting the final touches to place settings as his guests began to arrive, but there was no sign of Millie. He wanted to see her. They had a lot to discuss.
Discuss?
All right, he snarled at his moral compass director, but she’d be here. She wouldn’t be able to resist what might be her last chance to question him, and, if the temptation to interrogate him wasn’t enough, he had to trust that the same primal energy drove both of them, and that was an irresistible force.
An eclectic mix of specialists from the arts, sciences, and the charities he supported, as well as tech kings and a few fellow royals, had gathered on the deck below his quarters. It was an interesting crowd. He was keen for her to see the changes his rule had brought about. It had always been important for him to draw a clean line between the way his brother Saif had ruled, and his own very different approach. Had he mentioned the dress code for her evening would be casual? He couldn’t believe he was worrying about something so trivial, but he wanted Millie to fit in and relax, and if she arrived in a ball gown—She wouldn’t arrive in a ball gown. She had more sense. There was more risk she’d arrive straight from work in a boiler suit smeared with oil.
‘Your Majesty seems particularly distracted tonight—’
‘Tadj!’ He whirled around to greet his friend. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t see you and your companion arrive. Good evening, Ms...?’
‘Lucy Gillingham, Your Majesty. I work at Miss Francine’s with Millie.’
‘No need to curtsey,’ he said, raising Lucy to her feet with a smile. ‘Welcome on board the Sapphire.’
‘It must be a very beautiful woman to distract you to this extent,’ Tadj teased him discreetly. ‘May I ask who she is?’
‘No. You may not,’ he told Tadj. ‘Your reputation goes before you, my friend.’ He had no intention of sharing his interest in Millie with a man known as the Wolf of the Desert for a very good reason.
‘The party’s already a success,’ Tadj observed, glancing down to where the good-natured throng was mingling easily.
‘Seems so,’ Khalid agreed, scanning the crowd for Millie. ‘Excuse me—I can see some more guests arriving—’
‘A very beautiful woman,’ Tadj called after him with amusement, no doubt having spotted where Khalid was heading.
Millie was trying to find her way through the crowd jostling around his stewards as they offered his guests a welcoming flute of champagne. She looked sensational in a slender column of bright red silk. The crowd parted for him, so he quickly reached her side. ‘You decided to come?’ he remarked.
Running her eyes over him from top to toe, she looked up and smiled. ‘It appears so, Your Majesty.’
‘Have you been practising?’ he asked with amusement as she attempted to bob a curtsey.
‘Only as much as you’ve been working on your boilers today,’ she countered, directing this into his eyes as she straightened up. ‘Actually, I’d love to see the engine room.’
‘Another time,’ he said.
‘You’re inviting me back?’ she challenged with amusement. ‘I would have thought you’d seen enough of me by now.’
‘By the end of the evening, I probably will have done,’ he replied in the closest to humour he intended to come. In truth, he couldn’t wait to get away from her. She was affecting him like no aphrodisiac known to man.
‘I imagined you’d be leaving soon?’ she said, clearly unaware of his physical discomfort.
A flowing robe would have been more accommodating than designer jeans, he acknowledged, masking his discomfort. ‘And so I shall. My work is done,’ he confirmed, sounding harsher than he’d intended, but the need to rearrange himself was becoming more pressing by the moment.
* * *
I will not allow myself to be distracted by a pair of knowing black eyes, Millie determined. And if Khalid thought he could just walk away from her, he was wrong. ‘I find older vessels fascinating,’ she said, determined to keep him in front of her. ‘So much experience under their belt.’
He actually groaned as if he were in pain. ‘I hope you’re not referring to me?’
His voice sounded strangled, but if that was an attempt at humour, it saved him. He might actually be human. ‘I hardly think so, Your Majesty.’
People were watching them with interest, she noticed. Gossip would spread quickly on the marina. The ruler of Khalifa and a local laundress, chatting together like old friends. She didn’t care, but did he? And if he did care, he might bring this to an end at any moment, before they had chance to arrange that private talk. ‘You invited me here to talk,’ she said. ‘When can we do that?’
‘I need time with my guests. At least an hour.’
‘Of course,’ Millie agreed promptly. ‘And my apologies if I’m keeping you.’
‘I choose to talk to you.’
And when you no longer choose to do so, you’ll move on, she thought. Determined to pin him down, she confirm
ed, ‘An hour. Where?’
‘I’ll send someone to find you.’
‘Do you delegate everything to someone else?’
The words just popped out of her mouth, and there was a moment when she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, ‘Not all things, Ms Dillinger.’
And now she really, really wished she hadn’t asked the question, as the expression in the Sheikh’s eyes took hold of every nerve-ending in her body and rattled it until it squeaked.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said on a dry throat. ‘I’m happy people-watching, just so long as we have that promised talk.’
‘I won’t forget,’ he said in a way that left her in no doubt that he meant it.
‘Okay.’ She shrugged and smiled politely as he left.
* * *
That shrug. That smile.
Millie’s wildflower scent taunted his senses as he walked away.
It stayed with him—she stayed with him as he met and chatted to his guests. To a casual observer, the ruler of Khalifa had been exchanging small talk with a beautiful local woman who had happened to catch his attention. There was nothing unusual about that. On the surface, maybe, but beneath the apparent calm there was a lot more going on, like a fault line in the ocean with a volcano simmering underneath.
* * *
She needed a lot more time to relax on the Sapphire. Being back here was upsetting, and disturbing, Millie thought as Sheikh Khalid walked away. Needing something to take her mind off the past, she began to circulate and introduce herself around. She might have worried that she was walking in her mother’s footsteps, if the guests at this party hadn’t been so very different from those of eight years ago. Millie gave no explanations and none were needed, other than the fact that she lived locally, as the Sheikh was a generous host and had invited people from all walks of life. His guests were so open and pleasant that for a while she lost herself in conversation, but revisiting the place where she’d last seen her mother alive had affected her more than she’d thought.
