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Two wide driveways appeared to lead away from the courtyard, and while the bodyguards’ Jeeps parked up, and Iseult saw huge burly men emerge, Nadim kept driving and took the right-hand fork.
‘I’m taking you to the staff accommodation area, which is beside the main stables. One of the grooms will meet us there and take Devil’s Kiss to his new box.’
Iseult was beginning to feel light-headed, and she wasn’t sure if it was from fatigue, delayed shock, or just the effect of Sheikh Nadim. She realised that not once since she’d arrived had she thought of home or her family.
Meeting the new manager that morning, and seeing the way he’d listened so patiently to her father, had made her feel inordinately relieved. She’d been even more relieved to hear that he too was committed to a vision of keeping O’Sullivans from becoming a homogenous conveyor belt stud. It had driven home to Iseult how lucky they were to have been bought out by Sheikh Nadim.
The Jeep came to a halt and Iseult got out, seeing that they were in another huge courtyard, with modern-looking stables on one side and a long, low one-storeyed building on the other. The building was L-shaped and crumbling, but she guessed in a deliberately artful way. It had the same stamp of Arabic design she’d noticed already. She also noticed the fact that it was cooler here than it had been in Al-Omar, which had to be due to the higher altitude.
A sound came from behind them, and she turned to see Sheikh Nadim greet the most stunningly beautiful woman Iseult had ever seen. She was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, and her hair was a sleek fall of midnight-black down her back.
Her eyes were huge and piercingly blue—which, along with her olive skin, made Iseult think she had to come from somewhere almost mythical. She turned to face Iseult and a warm smile lit up her face, making her even more beautiful. She held out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Jamilah, the head groom. Welcome to Merkazad and the al Saqr stables.’
Iseult shook her hand and glanced up at Sheikh Nadim, who was frowning down at Jamilah. ‘I thought I told you not to wait up.’
Something pierced Iseult deep inside when she heard the obviously affectionate rebuke in his voice, and saw his concern. She looked back to Jamilah, who was still smiling. ‘Of course I had to be up to meet Iseult—and this wonder horse you’ve been talking about. It was nothing. I just set my alarm for when I knew you’d be home.’
She walked around to where a stablehand had magically appeared to open the horsebox. Jamilah led Devil’s Kiss out and gave him a thorough onceover, before saying with obvious appreciation, ‘He really is a beauty. You’ve done a good job. I can see that you’re going to be a welcome asset here, Iseult.’
Iseult blushed with pride. No one, apart from her father or grandfather, had ever complimented her before. And Sheikh Nadim had all but accused her of potentially ruining Devil’s Kiss. ‘Thank you.’
Iseult felt Sheikh Nadim’s heavy gaze on her as she followed the stablehand who was now leading Devil’s Kiss to his new home. It too was as luxurious as the horsebox had been.
She was trying desperately to ignore the fact that she felt so all over the place now that she’d noticed the special relationship between Jamilah and the Sheikh, and then Jamilah came alongside her and took her arm with friendly ease. She had Iseult’s case in the other hand, and Iseult insisted on taking it from her.
‘Come on—you must be exhausted after you’ve been so summarily dragged across the globe. I’ll show you to your rooms and you can rest. There will be plenty of time to show you around tomorrow.’
Iseult tried weakly to joke. ‘I’d hardly call private air travel being dragged across the globe.’
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sheikh Nadim raise his hand in a gesture to Jamilah, who nodded silently back to him. Easy communication flowed between them. He wasn’t even making any attempt to say goodnight to her, and Iseult hated the fact that she’d noticed. Clearly he’d gone above and beyond the call of duty in meeting Iseult to bring her and Devil’s Kiss here, and now couldn’t wait to be gone. Perhaps he hadn’t even trusted that she would have taken care of Devil’s Kiss on the journey, and that was why he’d met them himself.
The Jeep and horsebox disappeared out of the stables area, and Jamilah led Iseult over to the long L-shaped building. She could see now, as they drew closer, that it must have been the old stables, now converted.
Jamilah had a key, and opened a door in the furthest part of the building and led Iseult in, turning on lights which sent out a low warm glow. Iseult came in and put down her suitcase. The downstairs was open-plan, with a kitchen and sitting area furnished in cool white and neutral tones. Up some stone stairs there was a comfortable and pristine bedroom and bathroom, again furnished in whites and creams. It screamed understated luxury, and was a million miles from the kind of accommodation staff would have been used to at O’Sullivan’s stables, even in the good times.
Jamilah was explaining. ‘They’re all pretty much the same in this block. I’m in the one at the other end—nearest the stables. That’s where my office is too. We have bigger ones for couples, and we have proper houses too, for staff with families, not far from here. I hope this is suitable for you?’
Iseult whirled around, aghast that Jamilah might have taken her stunned silence to mean anything else. ‘It’s wonderful. I had no idea what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t anything as luxurious as this…’
Jamilah quirked a smile, and once again Iseult was struck by her beauty. ‘Nadim takes care of his staff very well. That’s one of the reasons why he’s so respected and gets so much out of his workers.’
‘You…’ Iseult bit her lip. ‘You call him Nadim… Don’t we have to call him Sheikh?’
Jamilah laughed—a beautiful tinkling sound. ‘No! He’d hate that.’ She slanted a stern look at Iseult, but her mischievous eyes told her not to take her too seriously. ‘Nadim insists on informality, but that’s not to say that everyone doesn’t know their place and respects him as the ruler and supreme leader of Merkazad… Don’t worry—you’ll see how it works.’ Jamilah led Iseult over to a low window and pointed outside. ‘From here you have a view of the castle, that’s where Nadim lives.’
Iseult looked out, and shivered when she took in the sight. The castle was more like a fortress—too huge and imposing to be described as beautiful. It was like the man himself. Effortlessly intimidating. It was built on a rocky outcrop which she guessed would have a view out over Merkazad and, like the other buildings she’d seen on their journey to the stables, Iseult recognised the Arabic influence. The wide sweeping archways and ornately intricate designs of the trellised stone perimeter glowed white in the moonlight.
‘It dates from the sixteenth century, and although it’s been updated and modernised on the inside, the outside is still the same as when it was a defensive castle. It has some of the best examples of intact Islamic murals on the Arabian peninsula. Scholars come from all over the world to study them.’ Jamilah straightened up and smiled. ‘I’ll take you there and show you around in the next few days, when you’ve got your bearings.’
Iseult felt shy. ‘Are you from here?’
A shadow seemed to pass across Jamilah’s face just for an instant, and then she answered easily. ‘Partly. My mother was from here, but my father was French. I was born in France, but then we came back here. My father worked for Nadim’s father. My parents died in the same air crash that killed Nadim’s parents, and as I had no other family he took me into his.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’
Jamilah waved a hand. ‘Don’t be silly. It was all a long time ago. I owe Nadim everything.’ She moved to go downstairs, and then turned back abruptly. ‘And, despite what you may have thought just now, Nadim is like my older brother. Nothing more.’
Iseult blushed beetroot-red and stammered, ‘I didn’t…didn’t think…anything like that…’
