Australia: In Bed with a Sheikh!: The Sheikh's Seduction / The Sheikh's Revenge / Traded to the Sheikh

“Couldn’t miss,” he agreed. “It’s a brilliant combination. I’m afraid this car is fairly dull in comparison.”

“No, it’s not,” Jessie insisted, peering in at the plush interior.

“Would you like to have a ride in it with me? I could lift you in and strap you up and sit beside you, showing you everything while the chauffeur drives us around.”

“Yes, please,” Jessie cried, thrilled at the prospect. “Wait till I tell the twins about this!” she crowed at Sarah.

Her arms went trustingly around Tareq’s neck as he gently scooped her out of the electric chair, no hesitation at all, despite his being a virtual stranger. Somehow his innate strength of personality and self-assurance evoked confidence in him. Sarah, too, had accepted his trustworthiness when she’d been a child. She wished it could be the same now.

“Sarah, will you move my chair out of the way, please?”

She operated the toggle switch with the ease of long practice, reversing the chair to a safe distance. Jessie had no compunction in instructing Tareq how best to settle her on the seat of the car and he showed no discomfort with her disability, chatting away naturally while he settled her as promised.

“Perhaps you’d let the lady on the veranda know what Jessie and I are doing,” he said to Sarah as he straightened up, hard blue eyes turning the request into a command.

Only then did she begin to understand there was purpose in his kindness. They’d come to collect her passport and possessions, and he was diverting Jessie while the real business was done. “Of course,” she answered, forcing a smile. “Enjoy the ride, Jessie.”

“Aren’t you coming, too?” came the slightly plaintive plea.

Tareq answered for her. “Sarah has other things to attend to, Jessie. She’ll be busy for a while. I was hoping, after our drive, you’ll show me what you’ve got in the special rooms your father had built for you. If there’s anything more like your Trail Blazer…”

Jessie giggled. “It’s the best. But there is some other clever stuff I can show you.”

A master manipulator, Sarah thought, as she left them to head up to the house. Though it had to be conceded he was making the situation less harrowing for her, keeping Jessie happily occupied and probably setting up an understanding of why Sarah would be going with him instead of staying at the farm.

The foreman’s wife stood at the top of the steps to the veranda, her gaze darting between Sarah and the limousine. Ellie Walsh and her husband had been working for the Hillyards since Sarah was a child. Ellie was in her forties, a tall spare woman with a no-nonsense attitude. She invariably wore a shirt and jeans and kept her hair cut in a short, boyish style. Practicality was her byword.

“What’s going on?” she asked as Sarah started up the steps.

The limousine was moving off. Sarah smiled to relieve any worry. “Jessie has just made the acquaintance of Sheikh Tareq al-Khaima. He’s treating her to a bit of high life in his car.”

“The sheikh!” Shock and alarm crossed Ellie’s face. “Has he come about his horses?”

It was obvious she knew the training wasn’t up to par. Probably everyone who worked here knew but none of them wanted to be unemployed.

“Everything’s all right, Ellie.” Sarah could only hope it would be. “The sheikh has offered me a position and I’m taking it. I’m here to pack and say goodbye.”

Ellie was dumbfounded, her fears about the future frozen in the face of such unexpected news.

“Susan is on her way home. She’s got the jeep and will be collecting the boys from school,” Sarah went on. “I really appreciate your minding Jessie at such short notice today…”

“No problem,” Ellie muttered. “You’re really going with the sheikh, Sarah?”

“Yes. It’s an opportunity to widen my horizons again.”

Ellie shook her head, still stunned at the turn of events. “The children will miss you.”

“I’ll miss them, too, but…” She shrugged. “…I can’t stay here forever.”

“I guess not,” came the weak rejoinder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I wish you luck, Sarah.” She gave a funny laugh. “Mind you don’t end up in a harem.”

It was a possibility for the duration of the brother’s wedding, Sarah thought ironically, though she had the strong impression Tareq didn’t hold much with tradition. In any event, taking a wife was not on his agenda. Squashing the issue of marriage was.

Having seen Ellie on her way, she went into the house to set about uprooting herself again. It was difficult to keep depression at bay as she dragged her million-miler suitcase out of the storage cupboard and set it on her bed, ready for another packing, another move. She’d made a personal home of the room Susan had given her and it hurt to look at one more part of her life which was now over.

Her gaze mournfully skimmed the colourful collection of soft toys she’d knitted while sitting with Jessie. They were lined up on top of her chest of drawers, waiting to go to the boys’ school fete. A stack of library books was on her bedside table, some of them destined to be left unread. Photographs depicting Jessie’s progress were glue-tacked to the frame of the mirror on her dressing table. No point in taking them. They belonged here.

Sarah fiercely concentrated on what had to be taken…clothes, toiletries, important documents. The sooner her packing was accomplished, the better, she told herself, and set about tackling her clothes first. Most of them were leftovers from her student days, hardly a suitable wardrobe for the high life, but Sarah shrugged off that problem. If Tareq wanted her dressed differently he could pay for it. She hadn’t exactly applied for the position of his companion.

A shiver of trepidation ran down her spine. Would he think he was buying her if she let him pay for clothes? He obviously didn’t have any high expectations of women, viewing those who’d been in his life as nothing more than sexual partners. Willing sexual partners. When he’d said he’d never felt so challenged by a woman, did he mean because she wasn’t offering herself to him?

Sarah shook her head, trying to dismiss the rising anxieties.

Stupid to keep worrying about the future. The decision was made. Whatever the outcome of a year with Tareq, she had to take it in her stride and let it flow past her. It was one thing she used to be good at, letting things flow past her.

It had been different with Jessie and the twins. Her involvement with them had been so easy, natural…an uncomplicated love, given and returned. Sarah hoped it would always be the same with them. All going well, they would still be here next year when she returned with Tareq for the Melbourne Cup.

Her packing was well under way by the time Jessie returned with Tareq. She stood still, listening to the high excited voice leading her important visitor down the hall to her especially equipped domain. There was no pause outside Sarah’s door. Jessie had to be still in ignorance of her half-sister’s imminent departure.

Almost an hour later, Sarah took her luggage out to the veranda. The chauffeur collected it and stowed it in the limousine. Susan and the boys still hadn’t arrived. Sarah waited outside until she caught sight of the jeep approaching the gate into the property, then steeling herself for the inevitable leave-taking, she walked quickly into the house and straight to Jessie’s suite.

A swell of emotion broke past her guard as she knocked on the door. Tears stung her eyes and her chest was so tight, the deep breaths she forced herself to take were painful. Keep it bright, keep it simple, and make it quick, her mind dictated. It would be easier that way, easier for everybody. Having blinked back the tears, she pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.

Why her gaze went first to Tareq, she didn’t know. It was Jessie she had to face, yet somehow he dominated even this parting scene…sitting in the chair she usually sat in, commanding attention simply by being in this room. He looked at ease, yet she felt the driving force behind his kindly facade and her heart quailed at what she had invited upon herself in accepting his bargain.

The electric chair hummed into life. Sarah tore her gaze from Tareq and looked anxiously at Jessie, now turning away from the desk where she’d obviously been showing Tareq some of her sketches. She had a real gift for drawing, a talent Sarah had encouraged her to develop since it was not dependent on two active legs. One day it might lead her into a rewarding and fulfilling career.

“You can sit on my bed, Sarah,” she invited, her little face still glowing with excitement. “Are you all packed, ready to go with Tareq?”

The knowledge and the ready acceptance in the question jolted Sarah. “I…yes. The chauffeur put my luggage in the car,” she answered weakly, searching for and finding no sign of distress in the child. “I know it’s sudden, Jessie, but…”

“Oh, you couldn’t miss out, Sarah,” came the eager urging. “You’ll have a wonderful time with Tareq.”

“You don’t mind my going?” It amazed her, disturbed her that Jessie seemed to care so little about losing her.

“Gosh, Sarah! It’s not as if everybody’s sister gets asked to travel with a sheikh.” She looked absolutely entranced with the idea. “You’re so lucky!”

“Yes, aren’t I?” she agreed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

She darted a glance at Tareq as she sat on the bed, wondering if he’d brainwashed Jessie into thinking he was sweeping Sarah off on a magic carpet. The look he returned telegraphed very clearly he left nothing to chance when he wanted his purpose achieved. Sarah knew she should feel grateful he’d removed any trauma from the situation. Instead, she felt cheated, as though he’d wiped out the value of her involvement with her family.

“I’ll be thinking of you all the time,” Jessie went on. “Promise you’ll send me postcards of wherever you go, Sarah?”

“Of course I will.” Her inner stress eased a little at this evidence of wanting a continuing connection.

“I’m going to get a big map of the world and put it on my wall. Every time I get a postcard from you, I’ll stick in a pin of where you are so I’ll only have to look at it to know and think of you there. Isn’t that a good idea?”

One of his? “I’ll be thinking of you, too, Jessie. I hope you’ll write to me.”