Page 45 of Royally Promoted

‘What’s going on with you, Lucy? Why are you suddenly determined to pick an argument with me after the fantastic evening we’ve just had?’

‘It’s not unreasonable to ask a few questions. I’m not going to just live in a vacuum until I wake up one morning to find that my suitcase has been pulled out of the wardrobe and my airline ticket is on the dressing table. A week and a half isn’t very long. I can start putting things in place, if that’s a definite timeline.’

Malik flung his hands in the air in an exasperated gesture and glared at her. ‘How is it possible to be one hundred perfect definite in this? How much time will your sister need to get to the corner shop for the pint of milk?’ He looked at her with brooding intensity. ‘Maybe I won’t find anyone. Maybe this thing we have between us...isn’t...’

‘Isn’t what?’

‘You look at me and I burn for you,’ Malik muttered, every word sounding as though it was being dragged out of him. ‘When we first... I didn’t expect the ferocity of this. Maybe I can delay the whole marriage thing for a while...’

‘I don’t think so, Malik.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘This isn’t going to play out on your terms and your terms only.’

‘Did I ever say that it would?’

‘You know, growing up in a big family, you had to make yourself heard; you had to be able to stand up for yourself and not let other people make decisions for you. So, now?’ Lucy sighed. ‘I can’t just hang around until you get me out of your system.’

Malik flushed darkly.

‘I don’t like the way that makes me sound.’

‘But,’ she said gently, ‘you are a guy who’s accustomed to getting his own way, aren’t you? With women...in business...in life in general. You mentioned a ball; is there a date set for it?’

‘It’s next Saturday.’

‘Hence the week and a half guideline,’ Lucy said. ‘Is that what tonight was all about?’

‘What do you mean?’ There was genuine bewilderment in his voice.

‘Tonight...it really was wonderful, Malik, and something I’ll remember for ever...but was it your last hurrah?’

‘No idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Was this the last big gesture before we wrap things up?’

‘That’s not why I did tonight. I... I wanted to show you my country...what it’s like in the desert at night...and I wanted to do it in style.’

Malik stilled as he looked back at the evening they had spent together. He had arranged the whole thing himself, including arranging which chefs should prepare the food. The whole thing had smacked of romance, and for a few seconds he’d been taken aback by the sheer pleasure that afforded him.

Him, the guy who didn’t do romance.

And now he was here, wanting more.

Habits conditioned over a lifetime kicked in with force, because he could remember the bitterness of realising the truth about life—that allowing emotions free rein was a recipe for disaster. Especially for a man in his position, where duty to his country and the responsibilities of his blood line were vital. He was a guy who, at all times, needed to put his head above emotion. But what he felt here, sitting in the back seat of his car, caught up in this conversation with a woman he couldn’t get enough of... It made him vulnerable and that was not going to do. Just contemplating that sign of weakness was enough to make his blood run cold.

‘But of course you’re right,’ he said coolly, back in a place of control. ‘You need a deadline. My parents are expecting you at the ball. It will be a grand affair and a good opportunity for you to meet a lot of people who have considerable financial concerns in London. A great chance to network. I will do my bit, and you can put it in the bracket of giving you a good reference. Day after, I’ll make sure that you’re booked first class to return to London.’

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds that seemed to go on for ever.

‘Sounds good,’ Lucy murmured, the first to look away. ‘That will give my sister plenty of time to get the pint of milk in.’

CHAPTER NINE

IT WAS A curious mix of feelings: utter sadness, fierce determination to keep smiling, a powerful sense of inevitability and the promise of despair waiting just over the horizon. This was the swirl of emotions Lucy felt as she stared down at the dress on her bed, waiting to be worn to the ball that awaited her in less than an hour and a half.

The remaining time they’d had together had shot by. It was as though, having put a timeline to everything, the ticking hands of the clock had sped up, determined to make sure that nothing came in the way of the parting of their ways.

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