Page 9 of Royally Promoted

‘What’s it like?’

‘What’s what like?’

‘Sarastan. Where you live. What’s it like?’

‘Relatively small and extremely wealthy.’

‘Is that it?’

‘It’s largely desert, but there is some truly exquisite scenery and the surrounding sea is beautiful. We have breath-taking skyscrapers, world-class restaurants, luxury shopping malls and awe-inspiring houses.’

‘Why did you leave?’

‘Come again?’

‘If it’s so fantastic, why are you living in dreary London with its grey skies and pollution?’

Malik’s gaze cooled. ‘Not pertinent to your temporary posting over there, Lucy. You need to stick to the brief.’

Lucy reddened, a retort springing to her lips, but then it hit her that he was absolutely right.

This was an unusual situation, which didn’t mean that she wasn’t still his employee, paid by him to do a job. She was here to ask practical questions that would be relevant to her life over there, not delve into his personal thoughts on anything. Boundary lines existed between them for a very good reason and she would have to make sure that they didn’t get crossed. What Malik’s private life looked like was none of her business any more than it hers was his business.

‘Where will I be living?’ She changed direction, and then took time out to inspect the menu which had been brought to their table, quickly making a choice, although she hardly paid attention to what was there.

‘I’ll make sure that something very comfortable is sorted out for you.’ He looked at her pensively. ‘I usually stay with my parents when I’m over there,’ he mused, thinking aloud. ‘But, given the circumstances, I think I’ll change that routine. In fact...’

‘In fact...?’ Lucy sat back as a basket of bread was brought to the table along with some very interesting-looking butter. She hesitated and, when she glanced at him, he waved at the bread and told her to tuck in.

‘I won’t, actually,’ Lucy said politely. ‘I’m not a bread person.’ It occurred to her that this was the first time she had ever been to dinner with Malik on a one-to-one basis. Yes, they had shared a meal on the run, something brought to the office when they’d happened to be working late on a deal with a deadline, but dinner at a fancy place like this? Never.

Suddenly self-conscious, she primly placed her hands on her lap and sat back.

‘Really? That flies in the face of the many baguettes you’ve bought from the deli on the corner at lunchtime.’

Lucy was suddenly stung by that remark. What did he really think of her, she wondered, apart from being a whizz at what she did? Did he find her too talkative, too mouthy? An open book without any interesting nooks and crannies? She was hardly an enigma, was she?

Out of nowhere, she thought of her sisters. They’d all followed in the footsteps of their dad, while she never did as she was told, feet firmly planted in the footsteps of their mum. She’d taken that break-up all those years ago so hard, and she had never really forgotten it, had never forgotten the trauma of that early miscarriage and the horror of being ditched like a sack of old junk that had seen better days. It had wreaked havoc with her self-confidence, and at the time had made her look in the mirror and wonder if she was as awful as she felt.

‘You’re upset,’ Malik said quietly. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you with that remark.’

‘Offended? Me?’ Lucy loosed a brittle laugh but she had to desperately blink back the urge to cry. ‘As if. Where are you going to put me when I come over? You still have to answer that.’

Malik looked at her in silence for a few seconds, long enough for her to squirm, but she maintained eye contact, her chin tilted at a defiant angle.

She was saved by the arrival of her fish course, which allowed her to break eye contact and focus on the turbot on her plate. Her heart was thudding inside her. He’d apologised; he had seen the way she had reacted to his perfectly innocent, amusing banter and that, somehow, felt worse than if he hadn’t said anything.

Did he pity her, feel sorry for her? Lucy knew that her imagination was playing tricks on her and she breathed in deeply and began to nibble at the food.

What did it matter what Malik thought of her? The most important thing was that she impressed him with her ability to do the job she was paid to do.

Did it matter whether he saw her as a woman or not? No!

She eyed him surreptitiously from under her lashes and accepted that anyone as beautiful as he was would really be unable to see her as anything other than the woman who worked for him. Guys who could have any woman they desired weren’t the sort of guys who’d give her a second glance.

She forced a smile and made a few noises about the excellent quality of the food.

‘So? You were saying?’

---