The Sheikh's Baby Scandal. Carol Marinelli

thoroughly for this moment—determined not to let such a superfluous thing as his stunning looks sideswipe her. She had examined many photos to render herself immune to him. Only no photograph could fully capture the beauty of Sheikh Kedah in the flesh.

      He was wearing an exquisitely cut dark suit and tie, but they were mere details for she had little interest in his attire. And it was not the caramel of his skin against his white shirt or his thick glossy black hair that forced her to try to remember to breathe. Nor was it cheekbones that looked as if Michelangelo himself had spent a couple of days sculpting them to perfection. Even sulky full lips that did not smile hardly mattered, for Felicia was caught in the trap of his eyes.

      They were thickly lashed and a rich shade of chocolate-brown with golden flecks and—unlike most of her clients—he met her gaze steadily.

      Oh, she was extremely good at her job. For, despite the jolt to her senses, Felicia did not let her reaction reveal itself to him and instead stood up, utterly composed.

      ‘Come through,’ he said.

      And she smiled.

      Widely.

      She had a smile that took men’s breath away. It was a smile so seemingly open that hardened reporters would thrust their microphones a little closer and their lenses would zoom in, so certain were they that it would waver.

      It never did.

      And long ago she had trained herself not to blush.

      ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Felicia said as she walked towards him. ‘The traffic was terrible.’

      He almost forgave her, for in turn Felicia was not what Kedah had been expecting. He had thought, given she had been invited for a formal second interview, that she would be in a suit, but Felicia looked rather more like a lady who lunched and was wearing a pretty off-white dress.

      It was fitted enough that it showed her slender frame and pert bust, while short enough to reveal her toned legs. She was wearing high-heeled strappy sandals and looked nothing like the hard-nosed woman he had been prepared for. In fact she was as delicate-looking as she was pretty. She was so soft and smiling that Kedah was quite sure Matteo had got it all wrong.

      Felicia Hamilton was the very last person he needed. Moreover, she was exactly the soft and submissive type he desired!

      Naturally he had looked her up and had seen a picture of her in a boxy suit with her hair worn up. She had been coming out of court, with a terribly famous and thoroughly disgraced sportsman by her side. She had spoken for him and her voice had been crisp and to the point.

      Today Kedah had expected brittle, and yet there was a softness to her that confused him. Her hair was long and layered and framed a heart-shaped face, and her fragrance was light and floral, meeting his nostrils as he held the door open for her and she passed him.

      ‘Please...’ Kedah gestured. ‘Take a seat.’

      Felicia did so, placing her bag by her side and crossing her legs at the ankles. Though he seemed utterly composed, Felicia was prepared for anything. Often the door had barely closed before her future client broke down. ‘For God’s sake, Felicia, you have to help me!’ they all too often begged. ‘You have to stop this from getting out!’

      Yes—client.

      Oh, she might call them her boss when she was in front of the camera lens but, as Kedah would soon find out, it was Felicia who was in charge.

      Yet instead of begging for her help Kedah calmly offered refreshments.

      ‘No, thank you.’

      ‘You’re sure?’ he checked.

      ‘Quite sure. I had a late lunch.’

      And his troubles would be a very sweet dessert!

      He walked around the desk and took his place and Felicia ran a tongue over her glossed lips as she waited for him to reveal the salacious truth.

      ‘You come highly recommended.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Ms Hamilton?’ he checked. ‘Or can I call you Felicia?’

      ‘Felicia’s fine,’ she offered. ‘How would you like me to address you?’

      ‘Kedah.’

      She nodded.

      They went through the formalities. He told her he was an esteemed architect, which of course she already knew.

      ‘I used to sell them off, but now once I design a hotel I tend to hold on to it,’ Kedah explained needlessly.

      She just wished he’d get to the point.

      ‘So I have a fleet of hotels across the world, which in turn means I have a lot of staff...’

      Felicia nodded and wished they could lose the charade and get to the good bit.

      ‘Do you have much experience in the hospitality industry?’ he asked.

      Felicia frowned. She’d expected a confessional—to sit, seemingly non-judgmental, as he poured out his past—yet he seemed to be actually interviewing her.

      ‘Not really. Though of course I’ve stayed in an awful lot of hotels!’

      Oh, she had. And if Kedah was going on word of mouth then he’d know that she worked for just a few weeks a year.

      He didn’t even deign to smile at her small joke.

      ‘As I hope Anu explained, the role would involve extensive travel. If you work for me the hours will be very long. Sometimes there are eighteen-hour days. If we are away you would also work weekends. Do you have other commitments?’

      ‘My current employer is my only commitment,’ Felicia answered. It was the truth—whatever his crisis, it would have her full attention.

      ‘Good.’ Kedah nodded. ‘How soon would you be able to start?’

      ‘As soon as the contract is signed.’ Felicia smiled. ‘I trust Anu gave you my terms?’

      ‘Indeed she did.’

      Felicia Hamilton commanded quite a fee.

      ‘What about your personal life?’ he asked.

      ‘That’s not your concern,’ Felicia answered.

      ‘Be sure to keep it that way,’ Kedah said. ‘I don’t want to hear that your boyfriend is upset because you missed his birthday, or that your mother-in-law has surgery next week and you need some time off. Care factor? Zero.’

      Felicia’s response was to laugh, and for once it was genuine. Honesty had been somewhat lacking in her life, and she would far prefer the truth than a dressed-up lie.

      And now she waited—how she waited—for that cool facade to crack and for Kedah to admit that he had royally stuffed up and needed his past to disappear. But instead he spoke of hotels and designs, and she stifled a yawn as he told her about Hussain, a graphic designer he regularly used.

      ‘He’s excellent. He actually studied with my father many years ago. We have worked on many designs together—mainly in the UAE.’

      Felicia stifled another yawn.

      ‘Why don’t I show you some examples of my work—as well as a few of the hotels we shall be visiting in the coming weeks?’ Kedah said, and then dimmed the lights.

      Felicia wondered for a brief second if refreshments might be in order after all. Was she about to get a private screening of the trouble Sheikh Kedah was in? A steamy sex tape? The Crown Prince bound and gagged in a seedy encounter, perhaps?

      Kedah watched that tongue pop out and moisten those lovely lips as she sat straight in the chair, giving him her full attention.

      Then he smiled unseen as her shoulders slumped and she sat through the forty-minute presentation that took her through