Page 19 of Seduced By the Sheikh

She opened her eyes wide. “He’s really asked for me?”

The vizier smiled. “He has.” He stepped aside. “If you’d care to join him?”

She lifted her chin and shook her head. “First, I’d like to see the meeting room. Make sure everything is in place.” She’d checked it out before, but always did one last check. It was often the difference between success and failure.

“Of course,” he said.

Once inside the chamber, she gave it a sweeping glance to make sure everything was in order. It was. Her last-minute adjustments hadn’t been changed.

The chamber was vast, its high ceilings adorned with intricate latticework that cast geometric shadows on the polished marble floors. Soraiya approached the long ebony table that gleamed under the chandeliers’ golden glow.

She knew Zak had entered the room behind her. She could sense it. She turned slowly toward him, feeling in control for once. More so than Zak by the looks of things. He scowled first at his vizier then her, obviously wondering why she was so prepared, so quickly.

“I’m just making sure everything is as it should be,” she said.

“Of course it is.” He paused and glanced from Aabid to the computer tablet she was holding tightly. “I take it you have all the information you need? That Aabid has briefed you?”

“Indeed. But I have to say, that while I understand it is important to secure their cooperation on the trade tariffs,” Soraiya’s voice was measured, her words precise, as she tried to re-focus Zak on the essentials, attempted to remove the emotional from their discussions. “It is equally imperative to secure the agricultural exchange program.”

Zak nodded, his eyes narrowing as if suddenly aware for the first time exactly what she could bring to the meeting. “Indeed. The irrigation technology they possess could revolutionize our farms.”

Soraiya’s fingers traced the gilt edges of the agenda, her mind meticulously reviewing each item. Within the palace walls, a palpable anticipation hung heavy—a silent acknowledgment of the weight of the impending negotiations. “And we must not overlook the cultural exchange initiative. It will pave the way for greater understanding between our nations.”

“True,” Zak conceded, his brow furrowing slightly as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“And the room…” Soraiya took another critical look around the meeting room. Each chair around the highly polished table was positioned with military precision, equidistant from its neighbor, their plush velvet cushions designed for comfort.

“Does everything else meet your exacting standards?” Zak asked. His voice had a facetious edge to it.

She ignored it. “Nearly,” she replied, shifting a crystal carafe of water to a more central position. “The refreshments must be perfect. Dates stuffed with almonds and honeyed pastries should suffice for the first break. I’ve instructed staff to make the change.”

Zak nodded, his eyes following her as she moved through the room. She paused before a vase of exotic blooms, and with a practiced hand adjusted their arrangement.

“We will offer them our finest teas,” Soraiya continued, “not just as a beverage, but as a gesture of hospitality, a bridge between cultures.”

Zak looked taken aback but was stopped from answering as the door opened and they were told that the delegation had just entered the palace.

Zak and Soraiya walked out of the room together and descended the marble staircase. They took their position in the hall just as the great palace doors swung open. Standing poised at the threshold, her gaze fixed on the figures emerging from the convoy of sleek vehicles that had cut across the sunbaked expanse of the palace grounds.

The delegation walked up to them and greeted them, and the introductions were made.

“Welcome to Sirun.” Zak extended his hand in a gesture of solidarity to the leader of the delegation. His tone was warm, yet beneath the veneer of hospitality lay the unmistakable steel of a sovereign who understood the stakes all too well.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the woman responded, her tone a little wary.

Soraiya couldn’t help but notice the slight arch of the woman’s eyebrow, which betrayed her skepticism. It didn’t faze Soraiya. She felt confident that, between them, they’d win her over.

“Bonjour, Madame Cardusi,” Soraiya greeted, as the French delegation leader—a woman of sharp features and shrewder eyes—approached.

“Your Highness,” the woman replied. “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” she said with a warmth that hadn’t been there for Zak.

“And you, also. I trust you and your husband are both well? And your children?”

At the mention of her children, Madame Cardusi’s expression relaxed as she boasted of her eldest son’s achievements.

After she’d finished greeting the rest of the delegation, Soraiya glanced around to see Zak staring right at her. Certainly her father and brothers wouldn’t have appreciated such warmth directed to her, rather than themselves. Her father had always made sure she knew her place. And she knew her place here. It was queen, not daughter. She wondered if the French delegation’s obvious high regard for her would help her, or whether Zak would be challenged by it. But she’d find out. Sooner or later.

CHAPTER 10

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