Monarch of the Sands by Sharon Kendrick Read Free Book Online Page B

she was free to do what she needed to do. And it seemed that she needed to go and confront the man who had betrayed her.
    A faint smile of admiration curved the edges of his lips as he heard the front door slamming shut behind her, and soon after that came the sound of her old car spluttering into life.

CHAPTER FIVE
    ‘H IS Royal Highness, the Sheikh Zahid will see you now, Miss O’Hara.’ The sleek receptionist indicated the discreet private elevator which was set in the marbled foyer of the luxury hotel. ‘If you’d like to go up?’
    ‘Thanks very much.’ With a polite smile at the glacial beauty who was the last barrier between her and Zahid, Frankie walked over to the elevator and pressed the button up to the penthouse suite.
    Outwardly, she was trying to project a calm and unruffled image, which wasn’t easy, given her rain-swept appearance.
    It had been quite an afternoon.
    Tracking Zahid down hadn’t been easy. It had come as something of a shock to realise that she had never actually contacted
him
before. He had mostly only visited with his father—and everything had always been arranged by palace aides. But she knew that his family owned a skyscraper headquarters in a swish central London location, where his brother masterminded the European arm of the Al Hakams’ extensive empire.
    Eventually, after she had spoken to a series of suspicious-sounding people who presumably okayed it with Zahid himself, an appointment had been made for herto see him. But instead of it being at the company headquarters, they’d given her the name of the hotel where he was staying. The famous Granchester hotel—the kind of place you only read about in the gossip columns of newspapers, or when a Hollywood superstar happened to be visiting town.
    The elevator was so speedy that it made her feel a bit sick and Frankie couldn’t help but notice that her legs were splashed with icy water from the grim November day. She dabbed at them with a tissue pulled from her bag, but by the time the elevator slid to a halt and she rapped on the door of Zahid’s suite she felt even more chewed up with nerves. A feeling which was only increased when she heard his distinctive voice call: “Come!”
    Her heart was pounding as she pushed open the door and for a moment she noticed nothing other than the fabulous works of art which lined the walls and the enormous windows overlooking some of the most expensive real estate in the world. The polished floor was as big as a football pitch and strewn with exquisite silken rugs. It was, she realised, the first time that she had ever been in
his
environment, and it was even more polished and intimidating than she’d thought it would be.
    And now, walking in from a room which led off the main living area, came Zahid himself—his face unsmiling and not particularly welcoming as he looked at her. Was he angry that she had flung his job offer back in his face the other day? she wondered.
    ‘Hello, Francesca,’ he said. His narrowed black eyes were shuttered as he looked at her—taking in the raindrops which glittered like diamonds among the tousledstrands of her dark hair. ‘You’d better take off your raincoat.’
    Frankie saw that she was dripping rain onto the polished wood floor and so she struggled out of her coat, wondering if he might help her. But he simply watched as she removed it and then pointed to a coat-stand which stood next to the door. She cleared her throat as she looped the damp garment over the peg then turned round to face him. ‘It was good of you to see me, Zahid.’
    There was the faintest elevation of his jet-dark brows. ‘I was surprised you wanted to—in view of our last meeting.’
    She supposed she deserved that, just as she supposed he deserved an apology for the way she’d reacted to what he told her. Was that why he was being so cool towards her? So
distant
? ‘I was very … rude to you.’
    He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but, of course, it did—just not