Page 7 of Royally Promoted

And that was that.

She spent the remainder of the day eaten up with curiosity.

Why was he looking for a wife? He could have anyone he wanted. One snap of his fingers, and there would be a queue of eligible women forming down the road. So, why go to the trouble of practically interviewing, for want of a better word, for the role? Whatever had happened to love?

It occurred to her that she knew precious little about Malik’s family and personal life. While she made a habit of saying exactly what was in her head, he was careful with what he revealed, which, when she thought about it, was precious little.

By the end of the very long day, during which she barely had time to break for lunch, Lucy was spent, partly from working non-stop and partly because being eaten up with curiosity was an exhausting business and took a lot of energy.

‘Right; enough. I think we’ve covered all we’re going to be able to cover for the day.’ This from Malik as he appeared at her desk to stare down at her as she furiously flicked through various open screens on her laptop, linking multiple reports and working at breakneck speed to cover the workload he had left her to get through in record time.

Lucy sat back and looked up and up and up at him.

‘Very good.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ She arched her eyebrows and looked directly into amused dark eyes.

‘You’ve done very well today. One hundred percent focus, even though I know you must have many questions to ask.’

‘I hardly know where to begin with them, now that you mention it.’

‘I’m sure, and they’ll all be answered. It’s...’ he glanced at his watch ‘...a little after six. Why don’t I take you somewhere for an early dinner and you can ask away? It’s a temporary lifestyle change for you but it’s a significant one. You need to get to Sarastan with a clear head and as little apprehension as possible.’

‘Right now?’

Malik frowned. ‘Right now, what?’

‘Dinner.’

Lucy stood up, glanced down at her disorganised desk, stuck a pen in the flowerpot she used as a container and decided that further work to neaten her work area would have to wait for another day.

‘Right now, Lucy.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I hate what I’m wearing and I refuse to be seen in it anywhere, unless it’s on a bus heading back home, preferably behind dark shades and wearing a wig. Remind me to think up something clever to get back at Julia for this little trick of hers.’

Malik shook his head, looked to be on the verge of saying something and then raked his fingers through his hair.

‘Lucy, it’s now or never. I have things to do and I haven’t got time for you to go back to wherever you live and change into something you feel more comfortable wearing. Besides, those colours... Believe it or not, those are the colours largely worn by the working population in the City.’

‘All very dismal, boring people.’ She grinned. ‘With the exception of everyone working in these offices. Okay, could you at least give me ten minutes to freshen up? And it’s in Swiss Cottage, by the way.’

‘What is?’

‘Where I rent.’

‘Ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the foyer on the ground floor.’

Malik watched as she began gathering her various belongings. She was right. There was a vibrancy about her that didn’t work well with greys, blacks and navy-blues although, in fairness, they did work when it came to providing contrast with the bright-vanilla blonde of her hair which had now dried into a waterfall of corkscrew curls falling over her shoulders, almost to her waist.

The women he dated tended to be tall, angular and brunette with controlled hair and, yes, a predilection for all those colours his secretary had scorned. Just for a fleeting moment, he narrowed his gaze to look at her and was caught by the softness of her skin, the way her hair fell in its unruly tangle as she bent to reach for her bag, which had been dumped on the ground next to her chair, and the swing of heavy breasts just about outlined under the top Julia had decided to buy for her colleague, tongue no doubt very firmly in cheek as she’d made her choice.

Then he turned away with a dark flush and began heading for the door that led out to the main open-plan office with its towering greenery, carefully positioned glass partitions, sleek wood and metal desks.

Lucy spotted him as soon as the lift disgorged her and its other eight occupants into the grand marble foyer that housed Malik’s elite, high-powered workforce. They occupied two floors of a towering glass building in the City. Two floors where the elite of the elite handled more billions than anyone would ever come close to guessing.

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