Desert Sheikhs Collection: Part 1. Jane Porter

about her friend.

      Sometimes it still seemed incredible that Rose was now a princess and living in Maraban, with Khalim ruling at her side. Rose had been an ordinary girl, just like Lara herself—and yet look what had happened to her. Even now it still seemed like a fairy story that hadn’t really happened.

      Except that it had happened.

      Just as this letter had been written and Lara had opened it.

      It could be a lie. It could be a forgery. The author of the letter could be completely mad. A blackmailer. A potential assassin. Anything.

      So what did she do?

      Did she get on the phone to Rose and tell her that her husband could have an illegitimate brother?

      But Rose was pregnant again. Think what the shock might do to her.

      Should she go to the Ambassador? But surely that would amount to the same thing—the first thing he would do would be to contact Khalim and tell him.

      Still the thoughts continued to spin round and round in her head, unchecked until a solution occurred to her which was so blindingly simple she wondered why it had taken her so long to think of it.

      What if she—Lara—went and found this Darian Wildman and sussed him out for herself? Almost as if she were sounding out the suitability of a would-be boyfriend.

      Lara tucked the envelope into her handbag. If he was a good man then she would feel duty-bound to tell Rose and Khalim about him.

      And if he wasn’t?

      Then she could destroy the letter and no one would be any the wiser.

      Her heart pounded. Maybe she was being too simplistic, and playing God with information which had fallen into her hands quite by chance. And yet Khalim himself always said that nothing in life happened by chance, that everything happened for a reason. Only he called it something else. Lara racked her brain while she tried to remember what it was, and then she nodded.

      Predestination. Yes, that was it. Predestination. Perhaps she had been meant to open the letter and to take the matter into her own hands.

      Her mind drifted over the name. Darian Wildman. An intriguing name and an intriguing situation. She would find him. And see for herself just what kind of man he was.

      But Lara’s heart was beating very fast as she picked up the telephone and asked for Directory Enquiries.

      Her thoughts were still reeling when she let herself into her apartment that evening to find Jake, her flatmate, cooking a fiery-looking concoction of curry.

      He looked up and smiled as she walked into the sitting room and threw her coat down on the sofa. ‘I was about to ask if you’d had a hard day at the Embassy,’ he joked. ‘But judging from the look on your face I’d say it was a pretty redundant question. What’s up, Lara? Has someone threatened to overthrow the Prince?’

      ‘Shut up, Jake!’ Lara bit her lip as the tight knot of tension somewhere in the pit of her stomach made itself known. ‘Any chance of a drink?’

      ‘Coming up—though I must say it’s a little early for you, isn’t it?’ He slopped red wine into two glasses and handed her one, a slight frown creasing his brow. ‘So what’s up really?’

      Lara sipped her wine thoughtfully, feeling the warmth flood through her, momentarily dissolving the sense of panic and trepidation she felt. Jake Haddon was the perfect flatmate—indeed, to almost every woman with a pulse he was the perfect man, full-stop. The darling of the British stage and screen, with his long legs and lazy charm and the lock of hair which flopped so endearingly over one of his soulful eyes and which had women itching to smooth it away for him. She had worked with him once but had never fancied him, which was fortunate given that he was now sharing her flat. He had moved in as a temporary measure, when he had been between homes and then had liked it so much that he’d never bothered moving out again. It felt like home, he told her.

      And Lara didn’t mind a bit. He was sweet and intelligent and trustworthy—even if he did sometimes tease her about Maraban and her friendship with its ruling family—yet, deep down, she knew she could not possibly confide in him about the letter, or her worries about the effect it might have on Khalim. He simply wouldn’t take it seriously. In fact, sometimes she wondered if he ever took anything seriously.

      But he was resourceful, she knew that—far more resourceful than she felt in this weird, jittering state of having discovered something momentous and not having a clue about what to do with that discovery.

      ‘Jake?’

      ‘Lara?’

      ‘Just say…just say you wanted an introduction to someone and all you knew was the place where they worked—how would you go about meeting them?’

      He batted his outrageously long lashes. ‘This is a man, I take it?’

      ‘Er, yes. How did you guess?’

      ‘I know women,’ said Jake smugly. ‘And you have that kind of secretive, bursting excitement kind of look which immediately tells me that it’s something to do with a member of the opposite sex. Am I right?’

      That might be the easiest way to explain it, surely? Jake wouldn’t ask too many questions if he thought she had a simple crush on a man.

      ‘Sort of,’ she prevaricated.

      ‘Another actor?’ he hazarded.

      Lara shuddered. ‘You know I’d sooner walk into a pit of deadly snakes than get involved with an actor!’

      ‘Why, thanks,’ he said wryly.

      ‘You know what I mean, Jake.’

      ‘Yeah, sure. Feckless commitment-phobes with fickle hearts—that’s us actors!’ He drank some wine and then gave the pot another stir. ‘So who is he?’

      Lara had been doing her homework. ‘A businessman.’

      ‘Successful?’

      ‘I…think so.’ The company was in Darian Wildman’s name, which meant that he was successful, surely?

      Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t met him?’

      ‘Er, no.’

      ‘Curiouser and curiouser. What happened? You saw him at a party and were smitten, decided he was the man for you, but before you could do anything about it he’d left, yes? So you asked around a bit, found out his name, and now you’re hot on his heels, pursuing him?’

      ‘It was nothing like that,’ Lara said weakly. ‘And it’s far too complicated to explain. I just want a chance to meet him, that’s all.’

      Jake threw a handful of coriander into the pot. ‘Phone his office.’

      ‘On what pretext?’

      ‘Make something up! You’re an enterprising woman, Lara—and you’re an actress! Play it by ear—and once you’re standing in front of him I am sure he will be completely dazzled by your wild dark hair and amazing blue eyes. The rest, as they say, is up to you!’

      Lara finished her wine and held her glass out for a refill, studiously ignoring Jake’s look of surprise—she rarely drank more than one, but tonight she felt she needed it. Could it be that simple? But why not? After all, what did she have to lose? She wasn’t saying that you could know everything you needed to know about a person in one short meeting, but surely it would tell her whether he seemed a decent kind of man. And it would make up her mind whether she told him what she had discovered.

      Or whether Khalim should hear about it first.

      ‘That’s very good thinking, Jake,’ she said slowly. ‘Very good thinking. I’ll give it a go.’

      ‘I don’t know why you should sound so amazed!’ he said drily. ‘Just because I’m known for my boyish good looks doesn’t mean that I