Modern Romance July 2018 Books 5-8 Collection. Annie West

careful.

      She’d been careful and conscientious for years. Tonight she intended to enjoy herself.

      * * *

      ‘I’m pleased you’re enjoying your stay.’ Sayid smiled at the foreign professor, one of a team visiting to advise on setting up state-of-the-art research laboratories at the new university. ‘When your meetings are over you must visit the desert. I’ll have my staff arrange it.’

      The man nodded and began to talk enthusiastically about the new plant recently identified in Halarq’s barren heartland. Of how a substance extracted from it might provide a breakthrough for medical research.

      Sayid nodded, drawing another guest into the conversation. It would be fascinating if he hadn’t already been briefed on the details.

      And if his attention wasn’t constantly diverted by the sound of laughter from the other side of the royal reception room where guests mingled before dinner.

      He was pleased the guests enjoyed themselves, especially as they were such a disparate group. But it wasn’t pleasure he felt whenever the sound of good cheer reached him. It was something unsettling.

      For amidst the deeper notes of male amusement came the sound of Lina’s voice, pure and true as a songbird’s, a silvery trill of delight that undid something inside him.

      He hadn’t heard her laugh before. Had rarely seen her smile. Tonight, experiencing both, he found himself constantly distracted. Not because she was over-loud. But because he wanted to be there, beside her, basking in the joy that bubbled from her.

      Another laugh, this time in response to a murmured male comment and Sayid felt jealousy slice his belly.

      Jealousy! Of his own secretary, Makram? And, he darted a quick glance across the room, a junior member of the American Embassy staff, and a foreign businessman.

      ‘They’re having a good time.’ Sayid turned to see his friend, the Minister for Education, nodding towards the laughter. ‘Your Lina is a breath of fresh air.’

      His Lina?

      For a second Sayid’s brain stuck on the pronoun. His.

      ‘You know my ward?’

      ‘We met yesterday at a community centre near the main souk. Where the new school is being built.’

      Sayid nodded. The area was in the heart of the oldest part of the city, its population a mix of highly paid professionals and urban poor. ‘I know it.’

      ‘I thought it clever of you to send her along with my staff. The local women related to her more than to officials. Perhaps it was the way she rolled up her sleeves and joined them in baking bread at the communal oven.’

      Sayid’s gaze slewed across the room. Lina had her head back, laughing. When was the last time he’d heard uninhibited laughter at one of these events?

      Her throat looked slender and sublimely elegant. The shawl of rich blue and gold had slipped down her bare arms. His gaze traced the outline of her breasts in a dress that gleamed richly, the colour of lapis lazuli. It reminded him of the gems in the royal treasury.

      Lina looked as if she was born to wear silks and velvet, rubies and pearls.

      She looked as if she belonged here.

      He’d wondered if she’d hold her own tonight, but he needn’t have worried. She seemed completely at ease. How far she’d come from the anxious, half-defiant teenager he’d first met.

      ‘I didn’t know she could cook.’ But that wasn’t true. She’d offered, hadn’t she, to work in the kitchens or the laundry, rather than return to her uncle’s house?

      ‘I suspect she’s a woman of many talents.’

      Sayid’s gaze narrowed, but he saw no salacious expression. If anything his friend looked paternally approving.

      Slowly Sayid nodded. He could only agree. He’d been impressed by the reports he’d received from her school. Lina was hard-working and determined. She also had a reputation for honesty, sociability and kindness, especially valued by the staff and the younger homesick girls. There’d even been a suggestion of a position for her at the academy, should she ever want it.

      ‘She has a way with people that’s more effective than anything we’ve tried before.’

      ‘Really?’ Pride rose. He’d thought from the first Lina was far from ordinary. That she had potential it would be criminal not to encourage.

      ‘You didn’t realise?’

      ‘I barely know her,’ Sayid admitted, just as if he hadn’t received regular reports over the years. ‘She’s spent a lot of time away.’ At his friend’s stare he added, ‘But I agree, she can be quite...winning.’

      ‘Definitely winning. She’s charming. In the beginning I thought she’d be just a decorative addition to our team. But she proved me wrong. She listened to everyone’s concerns and when she spoke it wasn’t about what they ought or must do. It was about how school would help them and their children right now, not just in the distant future.’ He nodded. ‘We might all talk the same language but she speaks it in a way they can relate to.’

      ‘She has a passion for education,’ Sayid murmured. Plus she’d grown up, if not in poverty, since her father was Headman of his town, but without luxuries. He remembered her shining eyes when he’d agreed to provide an education. The ripple of delight he’d felt at her excitement.

      ‘Not just education.’ His friend nodded towards the animated group in conversation across the room. ‘For life. And possibly for tall blond Americans.’

      Sayid followed his glance. A handsome diplomat was leaning towards Lina and she gazed up as if enraptured.

      An unseen fist rammed into Sayid’s gut. Why had he allowed the American’s name to be included on the guest list? He ignored the fact that it was his policy to invite foreign nationals to such evenings. Establishing better ties with the world beyond his country’s borders was a priority.

      Sayid turned back to his friend. ‘If you’ll excuse me. It’s time I mingled with my other guests.’

      Nodding acknowledgement on the way, pausing to chat here and there, it took Sayid an age to reach the group clustered nearest the door to the dining hall.

      As he approached he heard a woman speaking English in an accent that summoned memories of drumming hoof beats and vast wide open spaces, not unlike Halarq.

      Sayid frowned. He saw no other woman in the group, much less one with that distinctive Texan drawl. Only Lina, in a shimmering blue dress that gleamed subtly under the brilliant chandeliers. The spill of gilded light showcased each delectable curve and dip of that hourglass figure.

      He swallowed, his throat suddenly parched. He preferred tall, leggy blondes, he reminded himself.

      But his body wasn’t listening.

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not very good. My American friend would be rolling on the floor with laughter if she heard me now.’ The accent disintegrated on the words, replaced by Lina’s musical tones.

      Sayid halted not far from Lina, stunned.

      Lina was a mimic?

      What other secrets did she hide?

      Hungrily his gaze ate her up. Her hair was in a refined knot, her posture perfect, her manner easy and her clothes elegant and expensive-looking.

      She was definitely no schoolgirl any more. The question that clawed at Sayid’s gut now was what sort of woman she’d become.

      Had the allowance he’d provided paid for the dress that had obviously been designed specifically for her? Or had some man—?

      ‘No, no! You’re great. What about me? Can you do my accent?’ It was the American, leaning in, a lock of golden hair flopping over his boyishly