“Ms. McInnes.” She was grateful for his formality. She needed all the help she could get in remembering that she was here to do business, and nothing else.
“Good evening, Sheikh Khaled. Will you introduce me to the council members?”
“Of course.” Before he had chance to do more than turn in the direction of the other men, he was distracted by a new arrival.
“Excuse me. There is someone I must greet.”
He stepped around her, leaving her alone in the grand hall. A waiter offered a glass of sparkling wine, though she noticed everyone else drank water. Olivia took it and sipped as she watched Khaled bowing formally to the man who had arrived. He moved to one side and she saw him bow again, to a girl. A young Saqati woman in a pale pink embroidered garment that covered her from neck to toe, and with a matching headdress. The dress was cleverly cut on the bias so that it clung to the slender body beneath, showing tantalizing hints of curves at her waist and hips, and around her breasts. The light chiffon sleeves revealed long, slim arms. The overall effect was of a richly patterned, ornate frame for the girl’s oval face with its dark eyes and wide, full mouth.
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat. In slow motion, she saw Khaled lift the girl’s hand and bring it to his lips. The kiss was brief and dispassionate, but the girl stared up at Khaled with wide-eyed awe.
Aliya. It must be. This was the girl Khaled was supposed to marry. The girl he was going to marry. She was younger than Olivia had expected. Eighteen or nineteen, perhaps. A child compared to Khaled. A doe-eyed child, overcome with awe by the prince who had been chosen for her.
“Ms. McInnes, there are several members of the Saqati Council here tonight who would like to make your acquaintance.” Khaled’s private secretary, Jamil, had come to her side. His words acted like a cold shower, reminding her why she was here. She wasn’t here to ogle the sheikh and his proposed bride.
Olivia summoned up a smile and nodded. “Of course.”
At dinner, Olivia was seated between the Saqati Foreign Minister and Jamil. The minister kept Olivia on her toes, asking probing questions about MCI’s overseas operations. The conversation required her full concentration, and she was grateful for the distraction that prevented her gaze continually drifting toward the other end of the table where Khaled sat next to Aliya. He was remarkably attentive, drawing the young girl into conversation. Olivia couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but she noticed the way Aliya occasionally smiled for Khaled. She was very pretty. Khaled clearly thought so. His father had chosen well, and that was good. She didn’t want Khaled to be unhappy. A lifetime with a wife he couldn’t even like would be an unfair torture. Aliya was young enough and Khaled kind enough that the two of them would be able to forge a marriage based on respect, even if there was no love.
Who was she to say that there would be no love? Khaled had never so much as hinted that he loved her. He’d told her from the start about Aliya. He’d made it clear that their relationship could not last beyond their few days in Scotland. And yet today, in the car, he’d wanted her. He’d missed her as much as she had missed him, every minute after he had left. Olivia had taken to sleeping in the spare room where she and Khaled had made love in front of the fire just because it gave her an illusion of being near to him.
Love was a big word. Who could say, if she and Khaled had been free to take weeks, months, even years over their affair, whether it would have developed into love? But it was ridiculous to suppose that after a few days it could be there. Khaled would have years to fall in love with Aliya, and Olivia had plenty of time to find the right man for her. One who was free to fall in love with any woman he wanted. One who would make her feel as precious and cherished as she did when Khaled held her in his arms. One whose kisses sent shivers down her spine the way Khaled’s did. One who listened and understood her, who laughed and teased her out of her bad temper, and who saw and sympathized when she was sad, just like Khaled had.
But it wouldn’t be Khaled. She couldn’t have him, and there was no point wishing she could.
“Ms. McInnes?”
Olivia put a smile on her face and turned to her right. The minister on her left was deep in conversation with his other neighbor, leaving her to be entertained by Jamil Fayad.
“Excuse me, I was miles away.”
“Sheikh Khaled mentioned you wished to arrange a meeting with him.”
“Yes. There are some issues with the contract we still need to discuss.”
Jamil nodded politely. “I will schedule some time for you on Thursday, if that is convenient.”
“No earlier?”
“I am afraid that will not be possible. Did you enjoy your visit to the souk today?”
“Very much. It was so different from the tourist markets that you see all over the Middle East.”