Page 32 of Seduced By the Sheikh

This was all news to Soraiya. She had no idea that he’d actually banned his mother from entering the country.

“You came on a false passport, didn’t you?” He shook his head and paced away before turning on his heels and looking back at her. Soraiya was shocked at the look of pure hatred on his face.

Sheikha Alishaba shrugged. “I do what I need to do.”

“Why have you come when you know you’re not welcome?”

Alishaba pointed to Soraiya with her cigarette, dropping ash on the carpet as she did so. “To meet my lovely new daughter-in-law, of course.”

Soraiya placed a placating hand on Zak’s arm and looked up into his eyes, pleading with him to give the meeting a chance. He answered it with a huff and walked away, poured himself a glass of champagne, and knocked it back.

Sheikha Alishaba turned to Soraiya, placed her hands on her shoulders as if inspecting her face. For the first time, Soriaya noticed how Alishaba’s heavy make-up and perfectly coiffured hairstyle masked her age.

“You are a beauty,” Alishaba said. “No one told me that.”

Soraiya blanched at the back-handed compliment. “Your Royal Highness,” muttered Soraiya. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

“I’m sure it must be, Soraiya.” She cocked her head to one side. “May I call you that?”

Soraiya nodded. “Of course.”

“Good. Then, in which case, please call me Ali.”

Soraiya was pretty sure she was never going to call this formidable woman “Ali”. But it didn’t look as if the sheikha had any interest in her because she immediately turned to Zak.

“And you, Zakariyya, are you pleased to see me too?” She folded her bare, elegant arms, the gold bracelets jiggling noisily. Her fingers were bright with jewels.

“You know I’m not. After what you did to me, to Kadar, to Sirun, I didn’t think you’d ever dare to show your face here again.”

The sheikha’s smile didn’t slip, but her eyes grew a shade colder again.

“And yet, here I am.”

“And what I want to know is why you’re here.”

“First things first. How about you show a little of the famed Sirun hospitality and sit down with me, give me a little time to get to know your lovely wife?” She flicked a vaguely disinterested look at Soraiya.

“Yes,” said Soraiya, picking up the sheikha’s meaning, thinking that maybe things could still be salvaged. “Please, take a seat”—she hesitated—“Ali, and I’ll arrange for some refreshments.”

Alishaba waved a dismissive hand. “I have all I need,” she said, picking up the champagne glass once more and taking a seat.

Soraiya followed and sat down to one side, glancing anxiously at Zak who stood undecided for a few moments, before joining them, standing with his back to the grand painting of his forebear, looking just as haughty, just as autocratic. His mother also seemed to have noticed.

“Being king suits you, Zak. Although I have to say I’m surprised. I never thought your brother would abdicate for love.” She scoffed. “And I never thought you’d leave the pleasures of the west for this place.”

“Well, that just shows how much you know either of us.”

She shrugged, and turned to Soraiya. “But you have your lovely new wife to help you. I hear great things about you, Soraiya.”

“Really? From whom?” Soraiya couldn’t help asking. She was sure it wouldn’t be her father.

The woman smiled, but Soraiya didn’t feel any warmth behind it.

“The French delegation, of course, my dear. They’ve said marvelous things about you.” Alishaba tapped the ash off her cigarette. “Especially Madame Cardusi.”

“The French delegation!” exploded Zak. “What the hell have you been doing, talking to them?”

Alishaba’s smile didn’t waver. She held her cigarette out and the smoke wreathed around the room like a snake. “We go back a long way. Before your time. Yes, she said if it hadn’t been for what you could bring to the deal, they wouldn’t have gone for Zakariyya’s proposal in any way, shape or form.”

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