Page 54 of At the Sheikh's Command
Amare swore under his breath. “Not that diamond again. They’re obsessed with it. It’s not here.”
Zaire shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Just go along with it, right? As soon as she finds out it’s not here, she’ll leave and so can you. But, until then…” Zaire grimaced.
“I have to stay?”
Zaire nodded. “It’s either you, or me, and I’m king and I don’t want to.”
“So there are some perks to being king.”
“Absolutely.” He clapped Amare on the back when he scowled. “Cheer up! It might not be so bad.”
“A dry old Oxford academic with tunnel vision. Not my idea of fun.”
“Leonora’s not like that. Her colleague also might not be like that.”
“I reckon they broke the mold when it came to Leonora,” said Amare gloomily. “What are the chances that there’s another academic on this earth who is as beautiful?”
Zaire shrugged and looked around. “Probably nil. But that’s your problem. See you later.”
Great. He was stuck in the city of his birth for the foreseeable future with no prospect of fun.
“Amare!”
He turned around to find Darrius coming towards him. “Have you met Nora’s colleague yet? Dr Janey Montgomerie?”
“No.” He smiled tightly. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Well, you will now. She’s just arrived. Her flight was delayed, so she missed the wedding, but she’s here now.” Darrius waved to someone over Amare’s shoulder. “There they are now.”
Amare heaved a deep sigh, and Darrius laughed. “I’m sure it won’t be as onerous as you’re expecting.”
“Are you? Because I’m not so sure. I can think of a million things in Paris I’d rather be doing.”
“Paris is wonderful,” said a feminine voice from behind him, “but it doesn’t have the Bahr Al Noor diamond.”
“And nor does Sifra,” said Amare, turning to face the voice.
Then everything faded away, except the woman standing before him. As if from a distance, he heard Darrius introduce him to her, but all he could do was stare. His past had come back to haunt him. Because this was no dry old Oxford academic. Instead, he found himself looking directly at the woman he’d last seen naked and asleep in his arms, while outside the Pacific Ocean had crashed on the wild Australian beach. Her long blonde hair might no longer be loose, but tamed into a French bun, and her tanned long limbs may no longer be on show, but those eyes. He’d remember them anywhere. It was his golden girl. Come back to taunt him.
“Welcome to Sifra,” he said, extending his hand to hers, and holding her hand firm.
This time, he had no intention of letting her slip through his fingers.