The Sheikh Who Blackmailed Her. Susan Mallery

was wrong with her? Was she one of those women who were attracted to what they couldn’t have?

      No. For that theory to work she would have to want Prince Rafiq, and obviously she didn’t. Heat ignited low in her belly just thinking of him, but that was only a chemical reaction to a man who was the quintessence of everything male. Small wonder, really, that her hormones had been jolted out of their dormant state.

      But she had them firmly under control now, so it was end of story, turn the darned page, Gabby, and get on with sorting out the next problem—namely, showing she was not queen material.

      ‘Well, maybe not untouchable, but …’ Paul replied.

      ‘Regal?’ Gabby suggested. Gabby, appalled by her thought, struggled with the urge to mess her hair and wipe off the beautifully applied make-up. All day she’d had the feeling of being trapped inside the body of someone else. Or maybe just trapped—which she was. Temporarily trapped.

      Paul threw back his head and laughed. ‘You? Regal? Now, that is a good one.’ He chuckled at the joke, then asked, ‘What time did you say the flight was?’

      Gabby told him and he consulted his watch. ‘So, no time for a nap?’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t suppose it was easy to sleep in prison?’

      ‘Actually, there wasn’t a lot else to do—and you know me. I can sleep anywhere, any time. The King of the Catnap!’ he said, stretching out on the sofa and yawning. ‘Haven’t you got some packing to do or something? Shall I order a taxi?’

      Gabby took a deep breath. ‘Actually, Paul, I thought I might stay on for a while.’

      ‘You’re not coming home?’

      Home. The emotional lump of loss in Gabby’s throat swelled, and she blinked as she felt the prickle of tears behind her eyelids.

      She could get on that plane with Paul.

      She had given her word, but that had been under duress so it didn’t count. There was nothing barring the integrity Rafiq seemed so convinced she possessed stopping her. She could sleep in her own bed tonight.

      The idea held a lot of appeal.

      What was to stop her? Who was to stop her?

      Rafiq? Even Rafiq would stop short of boarding an international flight and hauling her off—wouldn’t he? An image of Rafiq’s face—the carved cheekbones, the sensually sculpted mouth and the implacable dark eyes—flashed into her mind.

      It was the face of a man who would stop short of nothing to achieve the goal he had set himself. The man was so fixated and stubborn that she was wasting her time telling him his plan was crazy, but she was sure that the passage of time would prove what he didn’t want to hear.

      ‘I thought I’d take an extended holiday,’ she said.

      Just the odd twenty years or so, if things went according to Rafiq’s plan. But it wouldn’t—it couldn’t. Gabby clung to her conviction. The alternative was something she couldn’t bring herself to contemplate.

      ‘But you don’t go on holiday.’

      ‘I don’t go on holiday as often as you—but then who does?’

      Paul worked only to pay for his trips, while their parents lived in hope that he would outgrow his wanderlust, but so far it showed no signs of happening.

      ‘I went to the Lake District last summer,’ she reminded him.

      Paul dismissed the Lake District with a grimace. ‘You took a group of kids and you camped in the rain. I don’t call that a holiday.’

      ‘The Lake District is beautiful.’

      Paul shook his head. ‘You know, Gabby, sometimes I worry about you. Maybe I’ll stay on with you.’

      The word exploded from Gabby. ‘No!’

      She felt Paul’s astonished stare, and added in a more moderate tone, ‘What I mean is, you have to go home. This has been traumatic for Mum and Dad, and they’re not going to believe you’re safe until they see you and hug you.’

      Paul grimaced and looked contrite. ‘Point taken. Poor Mum and Dad—I’ve given them a tough time over the years, haven’t I? I never mean for these thing to happen, you know.’

      Gabby’s expression softened with affection. ‘I know you don’t.’

      ‘Well, at least they have one kid who doesn’t give them nightmares.’

      Gabby dodged his gaze. She was still working on the assumption that Rafiq’s plan would never actually come to fruition, but if it did it would not be just her own life that was affected.

      She tuned back in from her worried analysis just in time to hear Paul say, ‘Shame, though. I’d have liked to show you the sights … Not jail, obviously. Are you staying on at this hotel? How much are they asking a night? Let me speak to the management—I’ll see if they’ll do you a deal.’

      ‘Thanks, Paul, but actually I’ve had an invite to stay with … a family.’

      ‘Cool—the best way to see a country is to stay with locals. Or are they ex-pats?’

      ‘No, they’re local, actually. I’ve been invited to stay at the palace.’

      Paul stared at her. After a long, startled silence he clapped his hands and gave a smug smile. ‘See—I was right!’

      ‘You were?’ she said warily.

      ‘Yeah. They’re scared stiff I’ll stir up trouble and they’re pulling a charm offensive on you. I say go for it, sis. You might even get to see the Royals.’

      ‘I can hardly wait.’

      ‘I was just joking. That place is vast—and you’re not likely to get invited to dinner with the King.’

      Gabby, her mind very much on the ordeal awaiting her that evening, joined in weakly as Paul laughed heartily at his own joke.

      ‘Come on,’ she said, playfully knocking his foot down from the sofa. ‘Shake a leg. You don’t want to miss your flight.’

      ‘What did I tell you?’ Paul said as she climbed into the limo beside him. ‘VIP treatment. I’m tempted to stay and milk it a bit.’

      ‘They might be tempted to change their mind and throw you back into jail.’

      Paul laughed and patted her hand. ‘You’re such a worrier, Gabby.’

      At the airport the VIP treatment continued. They were even shown through to a private lounge and offered refreshments. Gabby had a few moments’ panic when the flight was called and Paul was nowhere to be found, but he returned before she had gone into meltdown, looking pleased with himself.

      ‘Where were you? The flight has been called.’

      ‘First class,’ he announced as she hustled him out of the lounge. ‘Now do you believe me?’

      She smiled and shook her head. ‘You’re incorrigible. But promise me one thing—don’t talk to any strange women.’

      ‘I’ve sworn off women.’

      ‘I’ve heard that before,’ Gabby muttered as she watched him go through security.

      The relief she felt as she watched Paul’s flight lift off was intense.

      He was safe. She had achieved what she came out here to do. But at a price.

      The heat outside the air-conditioned terminal building hit Gabby like a solid shimmering wall as she stepped onto the wide pavement in front.

      There was no sign of the car that had deposited them, and Gabby was wondering what to do next when a long black limo with tinted windows pulled up.