Page 12 of Royally Promoted

‘I’m not sure I specified an interview—and, for the record, there’s nothing much to tell, Lucy. It’s something that will most probably happen while I’m out there. An arrangement will be cemented.’ He shrugged. ‘With my father’s health quite possibly permanently compromised, succession becomes more important. It’s not crucial at this juncture, but it’s desirable.’

‘And...does that mean you get married and live out there?’

‘It means the future holds what the future holds.’

‘And the future holds an arranged marriage...’

‘Like I told you,’ Malik said patiently, ‘this is not something you need to concern yourself with. Your duties over there will be very straightforward.’

‘One last question on the subject...’

Malik called for the bill.

She was curious and, considering she was being asked to put up with what might turn out to be quite a bit of upheaval in her life, she deserved to have some of her questions answered.

Knowing her as well as he did, he would have been shocked if she had accepted his offer without an A4 sheet filled with questions. That said, he would have to curtail her curiosity. Her role would be vital on the work front but negligible everywhere else. She would possibly meet his family now and again—it would be downright bizarre if she didn’t, given the circumstances—but largely she would be invisible.

When Malik thought of her meeting his formidable, cold and ultra-traditional parents, he drew a blank. Best not were the words that sprang to mind.

‘Will I be involved in the interviewing procedures? Not that you want to use the term interviewing, but I can’t think of any other word to use.’

Malik burst out laughing and flashed her a glance as he settled the bill.

‘What’s so funny?’

Malik opened his mouth to quip that involvement from her would probably result in all interviewees fleeing for the hills in terror, but then he remembered the way she had looked at him with huge, hurt eyes when he had teased her about her penchant for baguettes and thought again.

‘You can use whatever word you like,’ he said gently. ‘And, no, Lucy, your talents won’t be called on when it comes to my choosing of a wife. I’ve never involved you in my personal life and I won’t be starting now.’

For a few seconds, their eyes tangled and she was the first to look away.

That’ll teach me, she thought.

They worked well together, and they had the easy familiarity of two people who shared a lot of time on a daily basis. He appreciated her talents and, she liked to think, she had a healthy ability to speak her mind without being cowed or awed.

But that was it. Beyond that, all doors were firmly locked and, if she hadn’t known it before, he had just made very sure to remind her.

All good; no room for annoying, drifting thoughts. She would have a job to do and she would make sure that it would be a job well done.

CHAPTER THREE

BETWEEN PACKING, PANICKING, texting loads of people and conference-calling her entire family—each of whom had way too much to contribute on her sudden departure—plus sorting out stuff with the flat, Lucy still managed to devour everything she could get hold of on the Internet about Sarastan.

True to his word, Malik had personally emailed her a PDF with facts and figures about his country, and had listed things that she might like to do while she was there. She did a lot of hectic cross-checking and decided that, yes, there would be a lot to do while she was there, which helped eradicate fears about rattling around in a palace like a spare part the second her work duties were done for the day.

She realised that she had managed to omit quite a number of practical questions, but she reckoned she could sort that all out once she reached the place. In the meantime, she spent a busy week tying up all manner of loose ends in the office, and co-ordinating files that needed to be accessible should the need arise for one of the partners, whilst deciding what to pack.

Malik had opened an account for her and deposited a vast sum of money which he told her was to ‘equip herself with suitable clothing’. She had taken that to mean ‘suitable clothing’ for a very hot country, and hopefully not suitable clothing designed to ensure she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. She liked bright colours and felt that, under hot, sunny skies, bright colours would be just the ticket. If it turned out that she stood out too much, then she would revisit her choices.

For the moment...nerves decided to put in a long-overdue appearance. The novelty of her upcoming adventure had sunk in, as had the guilty pleasure of her spending spree accompanied by two of her sisters, Alice and Jess.

She would have been anxious at the airport, with a wildly different future only a matter of hours away, but she was distracted by the novelty of flying first class and luxuriated in a couple of glasses of champagne before promptly nodding off.

It wasn’t a long flight. Now, here she was with the plane descending, and suddenly it was all too real. Her stomach knotted as she strapped her seat belt, and she closed her eyes as the plane screeched to a shuddering stop on the Tarmac.

A driver would be waiting for her. She should exit the terminal and look for a long, sleek black Bentley. The journey to where they were staying would take under an hour. Malik would meet her at the house. Those were his instructions. He had also given her the registration number, although he had said Bentleys were few and far between. In fact, his family owned all five of them.

Lucy emerged from the uber-modern, crazily clean terminal in record time. Her case looked mournfully inadequate, hobnobbing with far more expensive luggage on the carousel, and she trolleyed it out into blistering early evening heat.

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