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‘Gianfranco is pushing me. He says it will be good for my career. And, of course, for the House of Bacelli. I’m to design a wedding gown. Should be away four weeks.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Somewhere out in the desert. A place called Jebbai.’
She heard the breath hiss through his teeth, felt his muscles tense beneath her, so tight it was almost as if he’d turned to stone.
‘Sapphy,’ he said, his voice barely more than a husky whisper and with a note that immediately alerted her. ‘What’s the name of your new client?’
She laughed nervously. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘Tell me!’
Her laughter dried up and she swallowed. ‘His name is Signor Khaled. But why? Do you know h—?’
She’d barely finished the words before Paolo had shrugged her from his shoulder and exploded from the seat to circle the room, pacing wildly. ‘Khaled! After all this time. I knew it. I knew something was wrong.’
‘What did you know? What are you talking about?’
‘It’s lucky I came when I did. You can’t go.’
‘Paolo, what on earth are you talking about?’
‘Just that you mustn’t go.’
‘But Gianfranco’s expecting me to take this commission. I can’t let him down.’
‘Tell him you’re sick—tell him your mother’s sick—tell him anything, but don’t go to Jebbai.’
‘This isn’t making any sense. Give me one good reason why I should turn this job down. More than that, why you’d expect me to lie to get out of it.’
‘Because your new client is not what he seems. I know him.’
‘What? Are you implying Signor Khaled is some kind of criminal?’
‘There’s no “Signor Khaled” about it. Didn’t he even tell you his full name?’
‘His full name? I—’
He snarled. ‘Your Signor Khaled is none other than Sheikh Khaled Al-Ateeq, ruler of Jebbai.’
A sheikh? Sapphy absorbed the revelation with interest, searching for the significance that Paolo obviously placed in the news. It made some sort of sense, certainly, as his whole aura spoke of power. But still she failed to see why his identity should change anything. And it was hardly a crime to protect one’s title. He’d certainly made no attempt to hide his name, after all.
‘So he’s a sheikh? That probably explains why Gianfranco is falling all over himself to ensure I take the job. But does that change anything? What I do know is he’s getting married and he’s engaged me to design his bride’s wedding dress. And you haven’t given me one good reason why I shouldn’t do it.’
‘Listen to me,’ Paolo said, his hands on her shoulders. ‘Whatever’s going on, you can’t trust this man. I have no idea what he’s up to, but I doubt there will even be a wedding.’
She shivered, his tone as much as his words frightening her. She tried to cover her anxiety with a laugh, but the sound came out brittle and false. ‘That’s ridiculous. Then why would he go to the trouble of commissioning a designer for a wedding gown?’
‘To get you there.’
This time there was no covering up the tremor that rocked her. ‘You’re frightening me, Paolo, and I don’t understand why. What makes you say these things? How do you know?’
‘I just do.’
‘No,’ she stated, needing facts to back up this fantastic story he was building up. ‘That’s not good enough. If you’re going to scare me with stories like this then I need some kind of proof. Why shouldn’t I go? What do you have against this sheikh?’
He spun away from her, fists clenched. ‘I can’t tell you.’ She was about to tell him that he’d have to when he wheeled back to face her. ‘Except to say, he’s the most ruthless man I’ve ever met and I know he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.’
