somehow.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ her mother snapped, staring round at her less than admiring public. ‘I haven’t sung yet. Tell you what,’ she said in a change of tone. ‘Why don’t you sing for us, Millie? She has a lovely voice,’ she added to the Sheikh. ‘Not as strong and pure as mine, of course,’ she added, snuggling up to him.
The way the Sheikh was looking at Millie made her skin crawl, but she refused to back down. ‘If you come home with me now, I’ll buy cakes on the way,’ she coaxed her mother.
Unpleasant laughter greeted this remark. A gesture from the Sheikh silenced his guests. ‘I have world-renowned pastry chefs on board, little girl. You and your mother can eat your fill—once you’ve sung for your supper.’
Millie suspected the Sheikh had something else in mind other than singing. With her plaits, spectacles and serious demeanour, she would certainly be a novelty for his sophisticated guests, who had started to chant her name. Far from this being encouragement, as her mother seemed to think, Millie knew it was mockery of the cruellest kind. Her neck burned with embarrassment as she begged, ‘Please, Mum. You don’t need the Sheikh’s money. I’ll take an extra shift at the laundry—’
Screeches of laughter drowned out her voice. Desperate now, she glanced longingly in the direction of the marina, where life would be carrying on as normal. If this was how the super-rich lived, Millie wanted no part of it. Tonight had cemented her decision to forge a life she could control.
‘Sing for us, Millie,’ Roxy slurred. ‘You can be my support act.’
Millie loved singing, and had joined the school choir, but her real passion was discovering how things worked. Once she’d passed her school exams, she was determined to put in as many hours as it took, working at the laundry to fund more education.
The crowd continued to chant, ‘Millie... Millie... Millie...’ Her mother’s eye make-up was smudged, and she looked so tired. ‘Please, Mum...’
‘You’ll stay here,’ the toad on the dais rapped. At his signal, the guards closed around Millie, cutting off all avenues of escape. ‘Come closer, little girl,’ he drawled in a sugary voice that frightened her. ‘Dip your hands into my bowl of sapphires. They will inspire you, as they have inspired your mother.’
Millie flinched away as someone shrieked an ugly laugh.
‘Touch my sapphires,’ the Sheikh continued in the same hypnotic tone. ‘Feel their cool magnificence—’
‘Step back!’
The icy command was delivered like a shot and shocked everyone rigid. Millie turned to see a colossus in travel clothes striding into their midst. The guards snapped to attention as he passed, and even the Sheikh’s spoiled mouth remained petulantly closed.
What a devastating man, Millie thought. Much younger than the Sheikh, he was infinitely more attractive, and Millie’s ideal when it came to a romantic hero. While the Sheikh overflowed his cushions, this man was lean and fit, like a soldier or a bodyguard.
‘Why, brother, you’re such a prude.’
When the Sheikh drawled this, she gasped. His brother? This was the toad’s brother? There was so little resemblance between the two men it didn’t seem possible. While the Sheikh sent shivers of disgust shooting down her spine, his brother inspired a very different response.
She cringed to see the Sheikh wrap his arms a little closer around her mother, as if claiming his property in the face of a challenge. ‘Have you never played Bridge the Generation Gap before?’ he asked, glancing between the newcomer, Millie, and her mother.
‘You disgust me,’ the newcomer rapped. ‘She’s just a child,’ he observed as he flashed an appraising glance at Millie.
That brief look seared her to the depth of her soul. She would never forget it. There was anger in his eyes, but also concern, and it made her feel safe for the first time since she’d boarded the yacht.
‘I can’t believe you’d sink so low as to include a young girl in your debauchery,’ he said scathingly.
‘Can’t you?’ The Sheikh gave a careless shrug. ‘She’s a pretty young thing. Why don’t you take a turn when I’m finished with her?’
‘You and I are very different, brother.’
‘Evidently,’ the Sheikh conceded. ‘But it’s no business of yours how I spend my free time.’
‘When you bring our country into disrepute, it is my business.’
The Sheikh’s striking-looking brother had everyone’s interest, Millie noticed, and no wonder, with his skin the colour of polished bronze, and that thick, jet-black wavy hair. His body was as powerful as a gladiator’s, his eyes as fierce and unforgiving as a hawk’s, while harsh cheekbones and sweeping inky brows added to the exotic picture of a man who commanded the room.
‘You sicken me,’ he rapped with disgust. ‘I return from fighting alongside our forces, to find you indulging yourself in the most depraved manner imaginable. You won’t be satisfied until you’ve brought our country to its knees.’
‘I’ll bring something to its knees,’ the Sheikh agreed with a lascivious glance at Millie.
Millie gasped as the younger man swept a protective arm around her shoulder. ‘You won’t touch her,’ he warned.
The Sheikh’s response was a lazy wave of his hand. ‘You take things too seriously, Khalid. You always did.’
Khalid.
Learning her guardian’s name, Millie felt a rush of emotion. He remained standing between her and the Sheikh, to protect her from his brother’s crude remarks and lewd glances. If only he could rescue her mother too.
‘Don’t bring your bleeding heart here,’ the Sheikh dismissed with a scornful look. ‘It’s not appreciated.’
‘A bleeding heart because I care for our people?’ the Prince challenged, stepping away from Millie. ‘Where were you when our country needed you, Saif?’ he demanded. ‘You left our borders unprotected and our people in danger. You should be ashamed of yourself,’ he finished with icy disdain.
‘It is you who should be ashamed for ruining the evening for my guests,’ the Sheikh remarked, unconcerned. ‘And it is you who should apologise,’ he insisted.
Shaking his head, Prince Khalid assured his brother that he would do no such thing. ‘Come,’ he added sharply to Millie. ‘You’re leaving right now. And if you had any sense,’ he added to Millie’s mother, ‘you’d leave too.’
Roxy’s response was to turn her sulky face into the Sheikh’s shoulder.
‘Is this what you want?’ the Sheikh asked Millie.
‘Yes,’ Millie almost shouted, ‘but I’m not leaving without my mother. Please—’ It was useless. Her mother didn’t move.
‘At least take some sapphires with you,’ the Sheikh suggested in a mocking tone.
‘Don’t touch them!’ his brother rapped.
‘As if I would!’ This time she did shout, and it was so unlike her to lose her temper, but if he thought for one moment she could be bribed with sapphires!
Prince Khalid smiled faintly as he looked at her, and there was almost respect in his eyes, Millie thought, as if he knew she found this situation as deplorable as he did.
‘You’re a disgrace to the Khalifa name,’ her rescuer thundered, turning his attention to Sheikh Saif. ‘If you weren’t the ruler of Khalifa—’
‘What would you do?’ the Sheikh queried in an oily tone. ‘I stand between you and the throne. Is that what’s really troubling you, brother?’ Opening his arms wide, the Sheikh drew