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"I find that hard to believe," Gemma said. "He seemed perfectly charming."
Rashid peered at Gemma. "It's just as well you won't be getting a chance to know him better," Rashid said. "You're going to be too busy for the likes of him."
Once again, there was that hint of possession in Rashid's voice. That somehow, he believed that Gemma had signed up for more than just promotional duties.
What was he thinking, talking to her like that? Didn't he understand the rules of this game? This was business, pure and simple.
"Rashid," she said turning to face him. "Perhaps we need to have a talk."
He smiled and glanced at the guests. "I was thinking much the same," he replied. "But, perhaps this isn't the place for such a discussion."
She immediately knew he'd misunderstood what she'd said. But, before she had a chance to correct him, he was cupping her elbow in his hand and leading her toward the door. She halted in her tracks and he stopped.
He looked at her. "What?" he asked still holding her elbow.
She forced herself to smile at him, trying to contain the urge to be sarcastic. There was another flash of a camera somewhere close by.
Gemma narrowed her eyes. When she spoke, she leaned slightly closer to him, lowering her voice. "I'm really tired," she murmured. "It's been such a long day, and there's been so much to take in."
She smiled at him, noticing the disappointment written on his features. Did he understand what she was really saying to him? Judging by the way he was looking at her, he did. And he wasn't happy about it, that much was certain.
"I haven't really had a chance to settle in. And it was such a long journey. I'm sure you understand, Rashid," she said.
The sound of his name on her lips seemed to pacify him. He nodded. "Of course." She could hear the letdown in his voice. "I'll arrange for you to be taken back to your apartment."
"You don't have to do that," she replied, probably too quickly. She felt tension in her body. This wasn't the way the evening was supposed to have ended, she told herself. It was the exchanges between Rashid and Ahmed which had caused the change. And also that encounter out in the garden.
"But I insist," Rashid replied firmly.
Gemma shook her head emphatically. "No, really. I prefer to go home on my own, if you don't mind."
She saw his eyes weighing up a response. Perhaps he'd detected her irritation and impatience, after all.
"Very well," he answered.
The guests needed no explanations for her departure, but Rashid wasn't about to miss an opportunity to make the most of Gemma's leaving.
He went up onto the platform and tapped the microphone which sat upon the tall stand. All eyes in the room turned to him. "Ladies and gentlemen. Miss Ellon is now leaving. And I'm sure you all wanted to show her your appreciation before she leaves."
He gestured toward Gemma and she suddenly felt like everyone was stretching their necks to see her one last time. She smiled and waved tentatively, trying her best to look like the perfectly happy woman she was supposed to be.
But, right now, that was exactly the opposite of how she felt. She couldn't wait to get out of the hotel. Everything that had happened in the last hour had just confirmed the nagging suspicion which had been tugging at her since she'd arrived in Qazhar. Maybe this had been a huge mistake.
There was a ripple of polite applause and Gemma took her chance to make her way out of the ballroom and out into the quiet sanctuary of the long corridor.
She didn't wait for Rashid, who she was sure was following right behind her. She didn't want another awkward conversation. She needed to clear her head. Maybe tomorrow she and Rashid could review this situation.
Her low heels clacked rhythmically as she made her way, hastily out into the main reception area. One or two faces turned toward her, and she was sure there was some recognition on those faces. She was used to that, but sometimes, especially recently, the burden of being famous was just that. A weight around her neck.
Maybe she had forgotten why she'd started all of this in the first place, and the trip to Qazhar was just a reminder of some home truths she had been avoiding for too long.
She pushed her way through the revolving doors and out into the cool night. Beyond the steps that led down from the doors, there was a line of limousines stretched back for a good, long distance. She recognized one of the drivers who was leaning casually against the hood of one of the cars. On seeing her, he stiffened and started toward her.
Gemma started toward the limo and then froze, halting on the bottom step. Standing right behind her designated limo, and leaning against the side of what she was sure was his own limo, was the last man she wanted to see, right now.
Sheikh Ahmed.
And he was smiling right at her.
