The Sheikh's Hidden Heir. Оливия Гейтс

he never wanted to let go.

      ‘I will have a car take you home.’

      ‘Karim, I live miles away…’

      ‘You are not getting a train.’ His phone was ringing again, and this time he answered it, talking for a second or two before clicking off. ‘My plane is being prepared.’

      ‘Your plane?’

      He checked himself, determined not to confuse her further. ‘I am sorry. Sometimes my English is confusing. I have to be there soon. I have booked my ticket. I have to leave in half an hour.’

      He didn’t want to go. She knew that. She could feel it in the hard kisses that he showered on her, in the desperate lovemaking that ensued, could even feel it as he took her down to Reception and saw her to a waiting car.

      The journey home was long, but Felicity wanted it to be. She needed to get her head around all that happened in the last twenty-four hours.

      She didn’t even know his surname—yet this man had changed her.

      To anyone else it would sound cheap and sordid—a day of no-strings sex, with someone she would never see again—yet Felicity felt no need to justify to herself what had taken place.

      Especially as, after she had taken the lift to her apartment and rummaged for her keys, when she paused in the middle of the corridor and saw a most exquisite bouquet at her door.

      They must have cost a fortune, soft pink blooms of orchids, and with tears in her eyes Felicity read the note.

       Never forget.

       Karim x

      How could she ever forget? Felicity thought, letting herself into the flat, staring at the blinking red light on the message machine and listening as Noor offered her a position in Zaraq.

      The money was more than she’d been expecting; the only blight was that she had to leave within a week. Felicity knew it couldn’t have been Karim’s doing as, from the time of recording, the message had been left immediately after the information session.

      Her mother’s message urged her to ring the second she was home. Instead she crossed her modest flat and stared out of the window into the cold night sky. She imagined Karim up there, flying back to his sick father, and wondered if they might meet again. Because even if his life was complicated, for Felicity it was actually rather simple. She read the card one more time.

       Never forget.

      Oh, she’d never forget—because every second of their encounter was etched indelibly on her mind. And anyway, Felicity realised, letting the tears spill now, she’d never forget because already she loved him.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THERE was no time to dwell!

      Not a single thing she could do about it!

      In the week she’d had left she’d had to fill in paperwork, decline her prior job offer, and attend endless friends and family farewells—as well as reassure her mother and sister that she wasn’t disappearing for ever.

      And even though she knew she’d be back it was so hard leaving.

      Standing in the airport, Felicity hugged her fragile sister close.

      ‘Look after the flat,’ Felicity said, trying to pretend she wasn’t worried about how Georgie would cope living alone.

      ‘Of course I’ll look after it! I’ll be fine—stop worrying.’

      ‘I’m not worried,’ Felicity lied. She wished for the same lucky star that had sent her Karim to shine on her sister, wished Georgie’s problems were as easy to solve and she prayed that Georgie would be okay, that this essential separation wasn’t going to set her back. ‘You stay strong,’ Felicity said.

      ‘I will.’

      ‘You’ll ring as soon as you get there?’ her mother fretted.

      ‘I will,’ Felicity assured her. ‘But, Mum, I won’t be ringing often—and you can’t ring me on my mobile. We can’t afford it.’

      ‘I know,’ she breathed. ‘We’ll be okay, darling.’ Felicity’s heart twisted with pride as her mother did her level best to be strong and brave. ‘And so will you.’

      Felicity hugged her mother and then she walked away, through the security checks and barriers with all the other tense passengers. And as she entered to the boarding lounge, despite her doubts and worries, there was excitement too.

      This was her time. This was her adventure.

      For Felicity it wasn’t about making money and saving for a deposit on a home, it was about clearing debts, about cleaning up the past and moving onto the future. And also, though she tried to curb it, there was a sliver of hope too as she boarded her flight—because, despite his firm words, there was surely a chance she might see Karim again.

      It was a long journey but a comfortable one, even in economy class. Zaraq Air looked after its passengers.

      Just, Felicity thought, as Karim had looked after her that magical night and day.

      Putting on her headphones, Felicity flicked on her little screen, smiling at the tourist information film about Zaraq. She gazed at the images of sandy beaches, deserts and mosques, excitement building. Soon she would really be there…

      It was talking about the royal family now. She listened as the narrator explained about the ancient kingdom, with a royal blood line so pure that its founders had passed on their proud name—each King a true Zaraq. It was riveting. Felicity watched the screen as soldiers marched smartly outside the palace, with the King of Zaraq waving to his subjects from the balcony, his family beside him.

      And then Felicity’s heart stopped.

      Because there, smiling from the seat-back in front of her, dressed in full military uniform and looking stunning, was—as the commentator informed her through her head-phones—Sheikh Prince Karim of the Kingdom of Zaraq.

      It was as if her bowels had turned to ice.

      Karim was a prince.

      No wonder he had warned her they could never be together. It wasn’t just miles that separated them, but a heritage that went back thousands of years.

      ‘Your seat belt?’ Felicity blinked as the stewardess reminded her, snapped on her belt, and sat in stunned silence as the plane began its descent.

      Her first glimpse of Zaraq was through disbelieving eyes. She watched the blue Mediterranean ocean give way to yellow sands. The plane circled in a wide flight path, as if to mock her, letting her glimpse all the power behind the man and the vast abyss that separated them.

      Golden sands as far as the eye could see one minute, and then, as the plane dipped to the left, she glimpsed Zaraqua, its ancient buildings huddled together. The cabin lights dimmed, and it seemed wrong somehow to be encased in metal, seeing medieval mosques, colourful markets, from such a modern invention. And then for a second she glimpsed it—the most spectacular building of them all, rising as if from the dust with the ocean as backdrop. What must surely be the palace.

      That was Karim’s home.

      As the tyres hit the tarmac, as the brakes screamed and Felicity was pinned to her seat, it was nothing to the impact she was feeling as she landed in Karim’s world.

      As she entered the Kingdom of Zaraq.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘LEILA?’ Her back was to him, and Karim watched his exmistress