Читать книгу Australia: In Bed with a Sheikh!: The Sheikh's Seduction / The Sheikh's Revenge / Traded to the Sheikh - Emma Darcy, Emma Darcy - Страница 11

AS THE LIMOUSINE came to a halt in front of the house, Sarah saw Jessie zoom along the veranda in her electric wheelchair, heading for the series of ramps that would bring her down to the road. She could go almost anywhere on the property in the custom-made chair, the powered base giving it a four-wheel suspension and amazing mobility. the novelty of seeing a stretch limousine at close quarters was not about to be missed.

Jessie wasn’t the only one whose curiosity and interest were aroused. The foreman’s wife came to the veranda railing, watching as the chauffeur opened The passenger door. Sarah waved to her as she stepped out, determined on acting as naturally as possible in the circumstances. The startled look at Sarah’s arriving in such style turned to awed wonder as Tareq emerged from the car.

“Sarah!”

Jessie’s cry of surprise claimed attention. The little girl was also staring goggle-eyed at Tareq, the chair halted several metres away as she took in the man accompanying her older half-sister.

Sarah was momentarily tongue-tied, not having prepared what to say to Jessie. Tareq had dominated her thoughts during the trip here. Now the moment was upon her, she instinctively seized his arm and drew him forward with her. Since this was his doing, let him handle it.

“Jessie, remember how disappointed you were not seeing the sheikh yesterday? Well, here he is…Sheikh Tareq al-Khaima!”

“Really?” Incredulity was almost instantly mixed with excitement and pleasure, lighting up her face and dismissing all her woes. “You came out to see me?”

“Sarah told me about you, Jessie,” he answered, smiling indulgently and offering his hand. “You’ll have to forgive the suit. I don’t wear robes outside my own country.”

“Oh!” Jessie blushed. Her small hand was gently enfolded in his. “That’s all right. You look…well, sort of like a royal prince anyway,” she said in an admiring rush. “And the car is fantastic!”

“Would you like to see inside?” Tareq invited.

“I’d love to!”

Sarah realised she was still hanging on to Tareq’s arm. She quickly released it as they moved to make room for Jessie to manoeuvre her chair into position beside the car. It was crazy to have seized on closeness to him for some kind of reassurance. Yet he was good with Jessie. Faith…if it could be called that…in his kindness to children had been justified.

“That’s a great machine you’re driving,” he remarked, watching her zip the chair around the passenger door which he’d opened for her viewing.

“It’s the Rollerchair Trail Blazer,” she proudly informed him.

He grinned. “Well, I’d have to say it blazes, Jessie.”

She laughed. “You mean the colours. Dad got them specially for me. I reckoned with a red seat and a yellow frame, everyone would see me coming.”

“Couldn’t miss,” he agreed. “It’s a brilliant combination. I’m afraid this car is fairly dull in comparison.”

“No, it’s not,” Jessie insisted, peering in at the plush interior.

“Would you like to have a ride in it with me? I could lift you in and strap you up and sit beside you, showing you everything while the chauffeur drives us around.”

“Yes, please,” Jessie cried, thrilled at the prospect. “Wait till I tell the twins about this!” she crowed at Sarah.

Her arms went trustingly around Tareq’s neck as he gently scooped her out of the electric chair, no hesitation at all, despite his being a virtual stranger. Somehow his innate strength of personality and self-assurance evoked confidence in him. Sarah, too, had accepted his trustworthiness when she’d been a child. She wished it could be the same now.

“Sarah, will you move my chair out of the way, please?”

She operated the toggle switch with the ease of long practice, reversing the chair to a safe distance. Jessie had no compunction in instructing Tareq how best to settle her on the seat of the car and he showed no discomfort with her disability, chatting away naturally while he settled her as promised.

“Perhaps you’d let the lady on the veranda know what Jessie and I are doing,” he said to Sarah as he straightened up, hard blue eyes turning the request into a command.

Only then did she begin to understand there was purpose in his kindness. They’d come to collect her passport and possessions, and he was diverting Jessie while the real business was done. “Of course,” she answered, forcing a smile. “Enjoy the ride, Jessie.”

“Aren’t you coming, too?” came the slightly plaintive plea.

Tareq answered for her. “Sarah has other things to attend to, Jessie. She’ll be busy for a while. I was hoping, after our drive, you’ll show me what you’ve got in the special rooms your father had built for you. If there’s anything more like your Trail Blazer…”

Jessie giggled. “It’s the best. But there is some other clever stuff I can show you.”

A master manipulator, Sarah thought, as she left them to head up to the house. Though it had to be conceded he was making the situation less harrowing for her, keeping Jessie happily occupied and probably setting up an understanding of why Sarah would be going with him instead of staying at the farm.

The foreman’s wife stood at the top of the steps to the veranda, her gaze darting between Sarah and the limousine. Ellie Walsh and her husband had been working for the Hillyards since Sarah was a child. Ellie was in her forties, a tall spare woman with a no-nonsense attitude. She invariably wore a shirt and jeans and kept her hair cut in a short, boyish style. Practicality was her byword.

“What’s going on?” she asked as Sarah started up the steps.

The limousine was moving off. Sarah smiled to relieve any worry. “Jessie has just made the acquaintance of Sheikh Tareq al-Khaima. He’s treating her to a bit of high life in his car.”

“The sheikh!” Shock and alarm crossed Ellie’s face. “Has he come about his horses?”

It was obvious she knew the training wasn’t up to par. Probably everyone who worked here knew but none of them wanted to be unemployed.

“Everything’s all right, Ellie.” Sarah could only hope it would be. “The sheikh has offered me a position and I’m taking it. I’m here to pack and say goodbye.”

Ellie was dumbfounded, her fears about the future frozen in the face of such unexpected news.

“Susan is on her way home. She’s got the jeep and will be collecting the boys from school,” Sarah went on. “I really appreciate your minding Jessie at such short notice today…”

“No problem,” Ellie muttered. “You’re really going with the sheikh, Sarah?”

“Yes. It’s an opportunity to widen my horizons again.”

Ellie shook her head, still stunned at the turn of events. “The children will miss you.”

“I’ll miss them, too, but…” She shrugged. “…I can’t stay here forever.”

“I guess not,” came the weak rejoinder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I wish you luck, Sarah.” She gave a funny laugh. “Mind you don’t end up in a harem.”

It was a possibility for the duration of the brother’s wedding, Sarah thought ironically, though she had the strong impression Tareq didn’t hold much with tradition. In any event, taking a wife was not on his agenda. Squashing the issue of marriage was.

Having seen Ellie on her way, she went into the house to set about uprooting herself again. It was difficult to keep depression at bay as she dragged her million-miler suitcase out of the storage cupboard and set it on her bed, ready for another packing, another move. She’d made a personal home of the room Susan had given her and it hurt to look at one more part of her life which was now over.

Her gaze mournfully skimmed the colourful collection of soft toys she’d knitted while sitting with Jessie. They were lined up on top of her chest of drawers, waiting to go to the boys’ school fete. A stack of library books was on her bedside table, some of them destined to be left unread. Photographs depicting Jessie’s progress were glue-tacked to the frame of the mirror on her dressing table. No point in taking them. They belonged here.

Sarah fiercely concentrated on what had to be taken…clothes, toiletries, important documents. The sooner her packing was accomplished, the better, she told herself, and set about tackling her clothes first. Most of them were leftovers from her student days, hardly a suitable wardrobe for the high life, but Sarah shrugged off that problem. If Tareq wanted her dressed differently he could pay for it. She hadn’t exactly applied for the position of his companion.

A shiver of trepidation ran down her spine. Would he think he was buying her if she let him pay for clothes? He obviously didn’t have any high expectations of women, viewing those who’d been in his life as nothing more than sexual partners. Willing sexual partners. When he’d said he’d never felt so challenged by a woman, did he mean because she wasn’t offering herself to him?

Sarah shook her head, trying to dismiss the rising anxieties.

Stupid to keep worrying about the future. The decision was made. Whatever the outcome of a year with Tareq, she had to take it in her stride and let it flow past her. It was one thing she used to be good at, letting things flow past her.

It had been different with Jessie and the twins. Her involvement with them had been so easy, natural…an uncomplicated love, given and returned. Sarah hoped it would always be the same with them. All going well, they would still be here next year when she returned with Tareq for the Melbourne Cup.

Her packing was well under way by the time Jessie returned with Tareq. She stood still, listening to the high excited voice leading her important visitor down the hall to her especially equipped domain. There was no pause outside Sarah’s door. Jessie had to be still in ignorance of her half-sister’s imminent departure.

Almost an hour later, Sarah took her luggage out to the veranda. The chauffeur collected it and stowed it in the limousine. Susan and the boys still hadn’t arrived. Sarah waited outside until she caught sight of the jeep approaching the gate into the property, then steeling herself for the inevitable leave-taking, she walked quickly into the house and straight to Jessie’s suite.

A swell of emotion broke past her guard as she knocked on the door. Tears stung her eyes and her chest was so tight, the deep breaths she forced herself to take were painful. Keep it bright, keep it simple, and make it quick, her mind dictated. It would be easier that way, easier for everybody. Having blinked back the tears, she pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.

Why her gaze went first to Tareq, she didn’t know. It was Jessie she had to face, yet somehow he dominated even this parting scene…sitting in the chair she usually sat in, commanding attention simply by being in this room. He looked at ease, yet she felt the driving force behind his kindly facade and her heart quailed at what she had invited upon herself in accepting his bargain.

The electric chair hummed into life. Sarah tore her gaze from Tareq and looked anxiously at Jessie, now turning away from the desk where she’d obviously been showing Tareq some of her sketches. She had a real gift for drawing, a talent Sarah had encouraged her to develop since it was not dependent on two active legs. One day it might lead her into a rewarding and fulfilling career.

“You can sit on my bed, Sarah,” she invited, her little face still glowing with excitement. “Are you all packed, ready to go with Tareq?”

The knowledge and the ready acceptance in the question jolted Sarah. “I…yes. The chauffeur put my luggage in the car,” she answered weakly, searching for and finding no sign of distress in the child. “I know it’s sudden, Jessie, but…”

“Oh, you couldn’t miss out, Sarah,” came the eager urging. “You’ll have a wonderful time with Tareq.”

“You don’t mind my going?” It amazed her, disturbed her that Jessie seemed to care so little about losing her.

“Gosh, Sarah! It’s not as if everybody’s sister gets asked to travel with a sheikh.” She looked absolutely entranced with the idea. “You’re so lucky!”

“Yes, aren’t I?” she agreed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

She darted a glance at Tareq as she sat on the bed, wondering if he’d brainwashed Jessie into thinking he was sweeping Sarah off on a magic carpet. The look he returned telegraphed very clearly he left nothing to chance when he wanted his purpose achieved. Sarah knew she should feel grateful he’d removed any trauma from the situation. Instead, she felt cheated, as though he’d wiped out the value of her involvement with her family.

“I’ll be thinking of you all the time,” Jessie went on. “Promise you’ll send me postcards of wherever you go, Sarah?”

“Of course I will.” Her inner stress eased a little at this evidence of wanting a continuing connection.

“I’m going to get a big map of the world and put it on my wall. Every time I get a postcard from you, I’ll stick in a pin of where you are so I’ll only have to look at it to know and think of you there. Isn’t that a good idea?”

One of his? “I’ll be thinking of you, too, Jessie. I hope you’ll write to me.”

“I’ll write you very special letters, Sarah.”

This declaration was accompanied by a secretive smile which she shared with Tareq. His smile in response indicated a conspiratorial arrangement. Sarah hoped Tareq wouldn’t conveniently forget his part of it once they were away from here. She didn’t want Jessie disillusioned by broken promises. On the other hand, she couldn’t argue with the ideas he’d implanted. It seemed he had gone out of his way to ensure she remained a presence in her family, however far away she was.

“I’ll look forward to hearing all your news, Jessie,” Sarah said in warm encouragement. “You must write me news of the boys, too.”

She giggled, delighted with the plans concocted with Tareq. “It’s going to be such fun!”

The eruption of noise in the house heralded the twins’ approach. They burst into Jessie’s room, two hyperactive bundles of trouble with wild, curly hair and big brown eyes, determined on finding the sheikh and seeing him for themselves. Jessie performed the introductions and both boys looked their fill of the man, somewhat daunted by his powerful presence.

“Mum said you’re taking Sarah with you,” Tim spoke up, showing his misgivings about this arrangement.

“Sarah is ours,” Tom stated belligerently.

“Sarah will always be yours,” Tareq answered, smiling his assurance. “She’s your sister and she loves you. Coming with me won’t make any difference to how she feels about her family.”

“But I don’t want her to go away.”

“Don’t be a baby, Tom,” Jessie cried in exasperation. “Sarah’s a grown-up and she hasn’t had any time for grown-up things with us. You’ve got to be fair.”

Another one of Tareq’s ideas?

“Do you want to go, Sarah?” Tim asked.

“I do need to do something more with my life, Tim,” she answered, “though I’ve loved being here with you.”

“Who’s going to tell us bedtime stories?” Tom demanded.

“I will,” Susan said from the doorway. “And I think you should thank Sarah for giving you so much of her time instead of making her feel bad about leaving you.”

“We didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Sarah,” Tim rushed out. “We want you to be happy.”

“Well, she’ll be real happy with Tareq,” Jessie declared, giving her younger brothers a supremely smug look. “I went for a ride in the stretch limousine!”

The boys instantly set up a clamour to be taken for a ride, too. Tareq good-humouredly agreed, inviting Jessie to lead them out to the car. She had a lovely time, playing Queen Bee, escorted by the sheikh who had apparently taken on the guise of fairy godfather.

“Will you be happy with him, Sarah?” Susan asked, scanning her anxiously as they trailed after the limousine party.

“I expect it will be an experience,” she returned dryly.

Susan shook her head fretfully. “You’ve done so much for us. I don’t know what to say…except thank you.”

“Try to keep Dad off the bottle, Susan.”

“I think Tareq has taken care of that. Your father got caught up in doing things he really hated and now he’ll be free of it, thank God!”

The passionate relief in Susan’s voice piqued Sarah’s curiosity. She stopped walking and stayed her stepmother from following the others off the veranda. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, her eyes sharply questioning.

Susan looked intensely discomfited. “Never mind. Better that you don’t. Drew needs to save some pride. He feels bad enough it was you who got Tareq to give him a fresh start. He won’t let you down on this, Sarah.”

“It’s not just me. It’s the family,” Sarah retorted, frustrated by Susan’s evasion. There were some things more important than pride and she tried to press them home, given this was her last opportunity to do so. “I’d hate to see you and Dad break up.”

She shook her head. “I’d never leave your father. We’ve been through so much. He stood by me when I was hopelessly incapacitated. I’d stand by him through anything, Sarah. Don’t worry about us. We’ll get over this hump and turn it all around.”

Faced with such faith and determination, Sarah didn’t have the heart to question further. Marriage was a private business to the two people involved and nothing she said would make any difference anyway. It certainly hadn’t in the past.

They remained on the veranda, watching Tareq directing the final show for the day. The limousine took off for another spin around the property, carrying three exuberant children and the man who held all their lives in his controlling hands for the next, testing year.

“I’m sorry you were so messed around by the divorce, Sarah,” Susan said, apparently stirred into an awareness of where her stepdaughter was coming from in the previous conversation.

“Not your fault,” Sarah replied dismissively. Sympathy had not been around when she’d needed it and hindsight sympathy only made the omission worse.

“I could have offered to keep you here with us. But I didn’t,” came the regretful admission.

Sarah had had a gutful of guilt from her father. She didn’t want it from Susan, too. “Water under the bridge,” she said curtly.

“I want you to know you’ll always be welcome here. Any time. For as long as you want.”

Too late, Sarah thought with rueful irony. A debt was owed now. People were uncomfortable with debts. It colored the flow of natural feelings. Though not with the children. They would never know. Nevertheless, it would lie between her and their parents, denying her the closeness she would have liked.

“Thank you,” she said, acknowledging the offer which had been sincerely made, however unlikely it was to be taken up. Tareq was about to dominate her life for the next twelve months. Perhaps longer if…her heart clenched with a sense of ominous urgency as she turned to her stepmother. She’d almost forgotten the most critical thing of all!

“Please tell Dad to do his best with Firefly, Susan. It’s important. Tell him from me it’s terribly important if he doesn’t want to let me down.”

Tareq might have freed her father from his self-made stress, but Firely’s performance was her passport to freedom.

“I’ll tell him,” Susan replied.

“You won’t forget?” Sarah pressed.

“I promise.”

Promises…she’d had a gutful of them, too…broken ones.

The limousine came back.

Her time here was up.

The children were happy to say goodbye…hugs and kisses and well wishes. Sarah settled on the plush seat beside Tareq. The chauffeur closed the door, the last separating act. She watched her family waving her off as the limousine moved away from them. There was no point in her waving. They couldn’t see her. She was behind tinted windows, cut off from them, enclosed in Tareq’s world.

“Thank you for making it easy,” she said stiffly.

“Was it easy?”

She grimaced, her eyes drawn to his by the gentle probe for honesty. “Yes and no.”

He nodded, understanding her ambivalence. There was both comfort and disquiet in his understanding so much. Recalling his skill at manipulating everyone today, Sarah was goaded into making one stand on principle.

“I appreciate your…graciousness…in the circumstances. But if you’ve made promises to Jessie, please keep them, Tareq.”

The blue eyes held hers, unperturbed, unwavering. “I never make promises I don’t intend to keep.”

Sarah suddenly felt foolish for raising the matter. Everything he’d said today indicated he set a lot of store by trust. In his life it was probably as precious a commodity as it was in hers.

“Then you will let me go if Firefly runs well next year,” she said, wanting him to voice that promise in undeniable terms.

She felt the power behind his eyes intensify, boring into her, flooding her veins with tingling heat, enmeshing her mind with threads of entanglement that would never let go unless he willed it.

“You will be freed…from being a hostage.”

His words rang hollowly in her ears, rendered meaningless by vibrations of a much more personal connection. Sarah knew in her bones she would never be free of Tareq, even given the lifting of the hostage tie, even given he didn’t want her with him beyond that time.

The impression he’d left on her twelve-year-old mind was still with her, and that had only been a week of her life. How much stronger would it be after twelve months?

“Why are you doing this to me?” It was a cry of protest, wrung from the depths of her being.

He didn’t question it. He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she meant. “You think you don’t touch me, Sarah? What am I doing here?” His eyes glittered with a reckless pleasure in the challenge. “We shall travel this road together until I know all of it.”