Protecting the Desert Princess. Carol Marinelli

my father—if you look for me—then I shall take my barrister’s advice and go to an embassy.’ Layla handed Mikael the phone. ‘My brother wants to speak with you again.’

      ‘Whoever you are—’ Zahid’s voice was still supremely calm but it cracked near the end of his words ‘—please look after her.’

      Mikael was just about to point out that that wasn’t in his job description, but then he looked over to Layla.

      How could he send her out onto the streets alone?

      ‘She’ll be fine,’ Mikael said.

      ‘I need your word.’

      ‘Hey,’ Mikael said, ‘you’re not my client.’

      ‘I’ll be paying your bill,’ Zahid said, and Mikael ended the call and threw the phone on the desk and looked at his problem.

      ‘You are trouble,’ he said, and Layla smiled.

      ‘I know that I am.’

       CHAPTER FIVE

      WHERE TO HOUSE the runaway princess? Mikael thought as her eyes lit on his chessboard and she walked across his office.

      ‘Leave it!’ he warned, because he played against himself and chess was part of his process when he was working through a case and needed fifteen minutes away from it at a time.

      ‘But I can see checkmate!’ Layla said.

      ‘Layla!’ Mikael warned again, and strode over. ‘Leave it!’

      He pointed his finger at her and blinked as her teeth made a biting noise and she smiled widely at him.

      She was like a little wild animal.

      Sex had previously been the last thing on his mind.

      That would happen after the trial—as soon as possible after the trial—when Mikael would make up for all he had missed out on as he surfaced to the world.

      Sex, though, was right at the front of his mind now—and starting to make itself known elsewhere.

      ‘Come on.’ His voice was brusque as he opened his office door. ‘Wendy…’ he called as Layla followed him out, but then Mikael halted. It would be easier to drop her off himself than explain it all to Wendy, so they walked together to his car.

      ‘This is your car!’ Layla clearly approved. ‘It is very beautiful.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘I’d love to drive it.’

      ‘But then I’d have to kill you,’ Mikael said, opening the passenger side door for her.

      ‘You are much more polite than the taxi driver,’ Layla said.

      Mikael got in himself and before driving off called his favourite hotel.

      He glanced over to Layla. Yes, he told Reservations, he would have his usual luxury suite.

      ‘Right, I’ve booked you into a hotel. I’ll cover it, and we can sort out money some other time.’

      ‘You have your retainer.’

      ‘I do.’ Mikael sighed, imagining trying to cash a rare ruby. ‘Put your seatbelt on.’

      ‘Pardon?’ Layla frowned. ‘The taxi driver said the same.’

      ‘And did you?’

      Clearly not.

      ‘You need to.’

      It should have been easy to reach over and do it himself, except she started to laugh as if he was tickling her as he leant over to retrieve the belt and suddenly there was nothing straightforward about the way Mikael was feeling as his nostrils delivered to his brain its first hit of the exotic aroma of Layla close up.

      ‘What are you doing?’ She was giddy from the brief contact.

      ‘Putting on your seatbelt.’ He pulled the belt out, trying to ignore the scent of her and the sound of her laughter as he clicked it in. ‘Don’t you wear seatbelts in Ishla?’

      ‘I don’t,’ Layla said. ‘The same thing happened on the plane.’ Then she turned and looked at him. ‘Though it wasn’t as much fun.’

      Mikael said nothing. He just drove to the hotel. But he could feel her eyes on him.

      ‘You’re not a very happy person, are you?’ Layla observed.

      ‘It’s not a requisite for my job.’

      ‘You’re not working now.’

      ‘Yes, Layla,’ Mikael said, ‘I am. Believe me, it would have been far cheaper to get a chauffeur-driven limousine with a trained monkey in the back peeling grapes for you than to have me drive you.’ He turned and saw her frown. ‘You’ll see the breakdown on my bill.’

      ‘I want that monkey!’ Layla said, then pouted when she got no response from Mikael. ‘You didn’t laugh at my joke.’

      ‘I wasn’t sure if it was one,’ he admitted, but then turned and gave her a brief smile. ‘It was a good one, though!’

      They got out at the hotel and Mikael gave the parking attendant his keys, telling him he’d be out shortly and not to park the car. They walked through to check in.

      ‘I’ll see you to your room and then I need to go back and do some work.’

      ‘That’s fine.’

      Heads were turning, Mikael realised, and not just turning. People were craning their necks to get a glimpse of Layla as she glided along beside him. As he checked her in under his name he explained that there was no luggage.

      ‘You might want to…’ He turned to see if she needed some cash but she was no longer beside him. Mikael saw her wandering into one of the hotel’s boutiques.

      ‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said to the receptionist, and then strode through the foyer and into the boutique.

      ‘I like!’ Layla said, holding up a very glittery, very high shoe. She sat down and kicked off her silver slipper and held out her foot to him, just as the assistant called over that she would be there in a moment.

      Even her feet were beautiful, Mikael thought. Long and slender and, yes, clearly irresistible—because with barely a thought he was helping her on with the shoe.

      The sole of her foot was a soft as a kitten’s paw and Mikael tried to ignore the feel of her skin and the scent of her hair as she bent forward as he tried to slip it on.

      ‘It doesn’t fit!’ Layla exclaimed.

      ‘You’re like Cinderella in reverse.’

      ‘Why doesn’t it fit?’ Layla demanded, because in Ishla her shoes were hand-made and fitted beautifully. This she could not even get her foot in.

      ‘Because this isn’t Planet Layla,’ Mikael said. ‘Come on.’

      ‘But I want—’

      ‘Layla.’ His voice was stern. Mikael was fast losing patience as she followed him to the elevators. ‘I don’t have time to be taking you shoe-shopping, I deliver my closing argument tomorrow…’

      Not that she’d understand that, Mikael thought as he swiped a card for the lift and handed it to her. ‘You need to use this to take the lift and to get into your suite.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Twenty-fourth floor,’ Mikael said, pressing the button.

      ‘How did court go today?’ Layla asked.

      ‘Not very well.’

      ‘He