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‘I hadn’t expected that the palace would look so modern,’ she confessed, determined to change the subject before it got too out of hand.
Was he actually giving her a small smile—too mocking and knowing for her peace of mind—or was she just imagining it?
‘Not all of it does. Only this new wing, which I have had added as my own private quarters. My brother is a traditionalist at heart, and he prefers the design and décor of our forebears. He did not altogether approve initially when I told him what I planned to do.’
‘But it looks wonderful,’ Sadie assured him quickly, and then, worried that she might have sounded horribly sycophantic, added lamely, ‘I’ve always preferred modern architecture and design.’
?
?It has its benefits,’ Drax agreed.
For some reason she was thinking about the swimming pool and his naked body again, Sadie realised guiltily, and rushed to ask, ‘As I won’t be meeting your brother, presumably I don’t have to wear the Chanel suit today?’
‘Not whilst you are alone with me, no,’ Drax allowed.
What was it about those words ‘alone’ and ‘with me’ that set her heart rocketing into her chest wall? Did she really need to ask herself that question? Wasn’t the answer openly obvious in the way her body was reacting? And did that small smile Drax was giving her mean that he had guessed what she was thinking? Oh, please not, Sadie prayed inwardly. The last thing she wanted was for this arrogant and sexually potent man to know that she had unconsciously filed the mental image she had of his powerful male physique to review again when she was on her own. Heavens, it shocked her enough to have to admit to herself what she had done, never mind have him know about it as well.
‘However,’ Drax continued, forcing her to abandon her frantic inner thoughts and listen, ‘Dhurahn is a very small state. It will soon become common knowledge why you are here. There are already several independent European financial services people resident in Dhurahn city. They refer to themselves as entrepreneurs—although I am aware that the financial press often prefer to refer to them as predators.’
‘You invited them here?’ Sadie asked.
‘No, they are not here at our invitation. These are not the sort of people we would want.’ His mouth curled in disdainful dislike. ‘They are vultures. Like all their kind, they possess an early-warning system that alerts them to the scent of fresh blood. However, you may rest assured that they will not be allowed to get rich on the backs of citizens of this country. I must warn you that everything that is discussed between us is privileged and confidential information, and must remain as such.’
‘Are you saying that my contract of employment will contain penalty clauses for breach of confidence?’
Drax eyed her thoughtfully. She had, of course, no idea what her ultimate ‘employment’ was going to be, nor how apt her question was. Certainly when Vere married her she would be signing a pre-nuptial agreement. It was a great pity that Vere couldn’t see her now. The top she was wearing hinted at the softness of her breasts, her skin showed the beginnings of a faint tan, and Drax was pleased to see that she was wearing only minimal make-up. It had amused him earlier to see the shocked expression on her face when he had leapt naked out of the pool, but his amusement had rebounded on him when his body had reacted to the knowledge that she was watching him. He had had to turn his back on her very quickly to conceal his reaction from her. He should not, of course, have allowed such a situation to arise at all. Arise being the operative word, he admitted grimly. Because he certainly had been aroused. Extremely aroused. So much so that even now…
She was going to marry his brother, he reminded himself. He was determined about that. So determined that he had already given the household a subtle indication of her future role as a Royal wife by installing her in the Royal suite of the women’s quarters.
‘Your quarters are satisfactory?’ he asked her now, remembering his duties as a host. ‘You have everything you need?’
‘The suite is magnificent,’ Sadie answered him truthfully. ‘But…’
‘But?’ Drax demanded.
‘Hakeem, the little maid, keeps addressing me as sheikha, even though I have tried to tell her that I do not hold such a title.’
Drax tensed momentarily. It would not do for Sadie to get wind of what he was planning before she had had the chance to meet Vere and he had put his plan into action by encouraging her to fall for him.
He gave a deliberately dismissive shrug. ‘It is merely a formal mode of address. She no doubt means simply to be polite to you. However, if you would rather have someone else to attend you…?’
‘No…no. She is lovely. She…she has been telling me about the palace and your family, and—’ Sadie could see him tensing and stopped, but it was too late.
‘And?’ he probed.
‘She also told me about your parents,’ Sadie admitted, adding quietly, ‘What a dreadful thing to have happened.’
‘Yes, it was.’ Drax’s answer was so terse that Sadie wished she hadn’t said anything. Had she inadvertently touched a still raw wound? Didn’t it make sense that the loss of one’s parents in such a horrific accident would always leave a raw wound?
She had been tactless, she decided guiltily. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
Both her guilt and her apology were so genuine that they made Drax frown. He wasn’t used to people treating him as though he was vulnerable and could be emotionally hurt. To be aware of her compassion touched a nerve within him that produced the echo of an old and deep pain.
‘My mother didn’t have to go that day. But she always went everywhere with my father. Theirs was a true love match. She used to say that I had inherited personality traits from her side of the family—she was Irish.’
‘Yes, Hakeem told me. That explains why you have green eyes, of course—’ Sadie stopped speaking abruptly, and put her hand to her lips in consternation.
‘Yes, Vere and I share her eyes. But Vere inherited the preferences of our paternal ancestors. It is traditional for scholarly men to take an interest in our literature and to write classical poetry; it is as much a part of being a Dhurahni prince as is the love of falconry and the desert, and Vere has already won renown for his skill in the writing of poetic verse. I, on the other hand, while I too love the desert and honour our traditions, have inherited my mother’s grandfather’s love of architecture and design. Our parents valued both aspects of our dual inheritance because they reflected what they each saw and loved in each other.’
