death, Miss Francine had stepped in right away, offering her a place to live. Home had been a room above the laundry ever since.
‘Of course, no one mentioned Sheikh Saif’s death to me,’ Millie mused dazedly, ‘because...’ She shrugged. ‘Why would they?’
Was she imagining it, or was Miss Francine finding it hard to meet her eyes?
‘I owe you everything,’ she said, giving her elderly friend an impulsive hug.
When Miss Francine left her side, Millie put her work on autopilot, so she could think back to what she remembered about Prince Khalid. Which was quite a lot. Never had anyone made such a strong impression on her. Most of it good. All of it awe-inspiring. And confusing. She’d thought him one thing, which was hero material, but he’d turned out to be something very different. And she must think of him as Sheikh Khalid now, Millie amended as images of blazing masculinity came flooding back. The sternest of men was now an omnipotent ruler. She could only imagine the changes in him. A few minutes in his company had been enough to brand his image on her soul. She could still see him striding up the Sapphire’s gangplank like an avenging angel to rescue her mother. But he hadn’t rescued her mother. He’d let her down. And at some point during that terrible night, Millie’s mother had either fallen from the Sapphire, or she’d been pushed.
Bracing herself, she stared out of the window. It was impossible to miss the Sapphire at rest in its berth. The superyacht was as big as a commercial cruise liner, and easily the biggest ship in the harbour. It was like a call to destiny that she couldn’t avoid. She tried not to show how tense she was when Miss Francine came back. ‘It’s had a complete refit,’ her elderly friend explained. ‘When Sheikh Khalid inherited the throne of Khalifa from his brother, he insisted that the ship must be gutted and refitted. Gossip on the marina says that everything on board is cutting edge.’ There was a long pause, and then she added carefully, ‘Nothing ever remains the same, Millie.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Millie agreed. She knew Miss Francine was just trying to help. ‘And I’m all right,’ she added briskly, with a reassuring smile for her friend. ‘However fabulous the Sapphire looks, it has moving parts that need to be fixed.’
Miss Francine laughed as Millie hoped she would. ‘Taking your tool kit on board?’ she suggested.
Millie narrowed her eyes. ‘You can bet I’ll be fully prepared by the time I board.’
‘I’m sure you will be,’ Miss Francine agreed quietly.
‘My life is here with you,’ Millie said. ‘And it’s very different from the life I had at fifteen. You’ve given me a happy home where I’m safe, and a launch pad so I can work towards a successful career. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.’
‘I don’t want your thanks,’ Miss Francine assured her. ‘I couldn’t love you more if you were my daughter.’
As they hugged, Millie reflected that she certainly didn’t owe the Sheikh of Khalifa anything, other than contempt for letting her down. He was on board the Sapphire the night of her mother’s death, and when the authorities had come calling, he’d made sure to keep his brother out of the courts.
‘I’ll take the sheets on board, and be back before you know it,’ she said with confidence. She was grimly determined to do just that, if only to prove to herself that the past couldn’t hurt her.
Miss Francine exclaimed with relief, ‘Bravo!’
* * *
Dressed in formal, flowing black silk robes trimmed with gold, Khalid was looking forward to reclaiming the informality he enjoyed on board the Sapphire, but before he could relax he had business to attend to. He had just received a deputation from the local council asking for his support with its youth plan, which accounted for his dress code of regal opulence. This world tour had lasted long enough, he concluded as he appended a final signature to the document that would fund his latest project. Staring out through the rain-lashed windows of his study, he reflected on the significance of King’s Dock. His educational trust had been born here, because of an incident that had changed his life. He had never thought to return, but neither would he neglect an opportunity to help young people gain a foothold in life. He had been asked for help, so he was here, and now he was here he couldn’t leave without having reassured himself about certain issues.
Closing his eyes, he eased his neck. He longed for the cleansing heat of the desert and the cooling waters of the oasis, but the truth of that terrible night wouldn’t go away. Pushing back from his desk, he stood up, and was glad of a muted tap on the door to distract him.
‘Come...’
His housekeeper entered and stood politely just inside the entrance. ‘The Gilded Stateroom is almost ready for your inspection, Your Majesty.’
‘Thank you. Please let me know when the final touches have been made, and I’ll inform you if I require anything else.’
‘Of course, Your Majesty.’ With a curtsey his housekeeper left the room.
He didn’t check every guest room, but this was for a particular guest, his old friend Tadj. Otherwise known as His Radiance, the Emir of Qalala, Tadj and he had been friends since school and university, and had joined Special Forces together. Khalifa and Qalala were trading partners, with valuable sapphire mines adjacent to each other in the mountains of Khublastan. The boundaries of several countries converged in this same region, which had led to their rulers becoming known collectively as the Sapphire Sheikhs. He was looking forward to Tadj’s arrival. Things were stable again in Khalifa after Saif’s tumultuous reign, and Khalid had not taken a break for some years. Having built a strong team around him, he could afford to do so now. This trip was an opportunity to build relationships between nations, and also to give him the chance to view the royal marriage mart to see if any of the available princesses would do. Tadj might advise on that—then again not, he thought dryly. Tadj was the devil incarnate where women were concerned.
Not wishing to dwell on thoughts of marriage, Khalid returned in his mind to Khalifa, that most beautiful of countries. Prosperity in the last few years had led to modern cities rising like mirages out of the ocean of sand, and though the desert might seem hostile to a casual visitor, it was teeming with life, especially around the oases where the animals he loved, the ibex and desert oryx, thrived beneath his protection. A crystalline ocean yielded more than enough food for his people, while a dramatic snow-capped mountain range held the precious seams of sapphires that gave them security, wealth, education, and medical care. To him there was nowhere to compare with Khalifa, and his spirits soared as he thought about the country he loved.
The stateroom for Tadj!
As he turned to leave his study something drew his glance to the window where, far below him on the rain-swept dock, a mini-drama was playing out. A small figure cloaked head to foot in sensible oilskins was attempting to gain entry onto the private walkway leading to the Sapphire. A sentry stood in her way. He could tell it was a woman from her height and tiny hands, with which she was gesturing vigorously as if to impress upon the guard that her mission was urgent and she must be allowed on board. She had a large, wheeled container at her side, and it was this that his security personnel, quite rightly, was intent on searching.
‘No,’ she told them with a decisive shake of her head, staring to the sky, as if to point out the obvious: that the rain would ruin her goods. A quick-thinking guard stepped forward with a sniffer dog. Once the dog had made a comprehensive inspection, she was allowed to pass.
Satisfied that she would be accompanied every inch of the way, he pulled back from the window. His guests would be arriving soon for a glamorous evening, so it came as no surprise to him to discover that deliveries were being made.
An officer greeted him as he left the study. ‘A message from the mine, Your Majesty.’
‘Oh?’ Concern struck him as it always did where work underground was concerned. This would mean a delay to his inspection of Tadj’s quarters, but