Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation Page 4

  ‘Now, look here!’ She shot to her feet, fury rising. She had no patience for people who thought she’d got where she was through her father’s influence. ‘I won this job on merit. Simple as that.’

  The idea of her father interfering on her behalf wasn’t just wrong, it was risible. Despite what he said in public, Jack Nilsson didn’t approve of her career. As for exerting himself on her behalf... Not unless it would win him positive publicity.

  ‘If you say so.’ Steve raised his hands but his knowing smirk lingered. ‘Don’t be so touchy and emotional.’

  Tori raised one eyebrow at the typical putdown. When she spoke again she used the clear, carrying tones she’d learned when her father had insisted she take up debating at school. ‘Was there a work matter you wanted to discuss? Or did you just interrupt me to shoot the breeze?’

  Steve slanted a glance towards the open-plan office behind him. His expression grew ugly. ‘You’re wanted in the boardroom.’ His tone was as hard as the diamonds the company mined. ‘Immediately.’

  He turned on his heel and disappeared, leaving Tori relieved and confused. She hated Steve’s snarky sexism. He deserved far more than the mild rebuke she’d given him. But she had no idea who wanted to see her and why. She knew where the boardroom was, but she wasn’t significant enough in the company to be invited to meetings there.

  She tried to remember if she’d heard anything about an executive meeting today but nothing registered.

  Tori smoothed her hair then reached for her phone, her tablet and the not yet finished survey report. Taking a deep breath, she marched across the office, feeling curious glances as she pushed the lift button for the executive level.

  Minutes later she stepped into the rarefied atmosphere of extreme wealth. The company was one of the most successful of its type and the executive suite was all plush carpet, expensive artworks and bespoke wood panelling. The views up here were dizzyingly spectacular.

  Tori was staring about her when a young man in a pinstriped suit approached.

  ‘Ms Nilsson?’

  His manner was friendly, but there was no mistaking his curiosity. She resisted the urge to check her hair or straighten her collar. She’d learned never to fidget in public. Her father hated it because it spoiled the perfect press shot.

  ‘Yes. I understand I’m wanted in the boardroom?’ She let her voice rise at the end of the sentence, hinting at a question. But he didn’t offer an explanation.

  ‘That’s right. This way, please.’

  He led the way past a beautifully appointed lounge with panoramic windows. As they approached a set of double doors Tori noticed a man in a dark suit nearby. His feet were planted wide and his hands clasped.

  A bodyguard. She’d seen enough of them to recognise the demeanour.

  This one met her eyes calmly, no doubt sizing her up. He looked sturdy and, despite his impassive expression, intimidating.

  Tori gripped her belongings tighter. Unusual that one of the company’s executives should bring a bodyguard into the building. Then she remembered Steve’s snide challenge. ‘It’s always who you know.’

  Which meant it was her father in the boardroom. Though why he’d brought a bodyguard... And why he’d chosen to meet her at work... He hadn’t mentioned coming to Western Australia and he never made paternal visits.

  ‘Here you are, Ms Nilsson.’ Her guide pushed open one of the doors.

  She stepped in to find the room empty. There was no meeting. The long polished table was bare.

  Tori blinked and hesitated. She was about to go out again and ask what was going on when a shadow at the far end of the room detached itself from the wall.

  A man. A tall man, spine straight and shoulders wide. He was silhouetted against a wall of glass. For an instant all she had was an impression of strength and the loose-limbed saunter of an athlete as he approached. She didn’t recognise the walk, but there was something familiar about him.

  Tori’s skin tightened as premonition swept through her. A split-second certainty that she knew him.

  She opened her mouth to say hello, but then he drew close enough that she could make out his features instead of just the shape of his head.

  Tori heard a hissed breath. Her hands slackened. Something hard grazed her shin as it dropped with a thud onto the carpeted floor. But her gaze was glued to the man who had stopped just an arm’s length away.

  Bronzed skin pulled tight over a bone structure that would have made Michelangelo weep. A sensual mouth set above a determined jaw. Eyes that even from here looked black rather than dark brown. Black eyebrows. A forceful nose that transformed his face from an ideal of masculine beauty to one of power. Black hair that Tori knew was soft to the touch.

  Her nerveless hands twitched as memory flooded through her. Of channelling her fingers through hair so soft and thick it felt like a pelt. Of being careful to avoid the clotted blood of his head injury.

  The twitch in her hands became a tremor. A shudder thundered through her as her heart crashed into her ribs.

  Heat suffused her as she met gleaming eyes. Then a wash of icy cold as other memories battered her brain.

  Kidnappers. Gunfire.

  Her eyes prickled and she blinked rapidly. Tears came easily now—another thing her counsellor said was normal. Yet instinctively Tori tried to dam them.

  She swayed. The floor seemed to ripple and the walls appeared to close around the man watching her so intently. Tori grabbed the back of a leather conference chair for support, fingers clawing.

  There was no scarring on his face. Nothing to indicate he’d ever been brutalised or shot at. He wore a dark grey suit tailored by an expert. It rivalled anything in her father’s expensive wardrobe, and on this man’s rangy, powerful frame looked spectacular. A white shirt complemented his burnished skin and a perfectly knotted silk tie completed the image of urbane sophistication.

  It couldn’t be. It was impossible. And yet...

  ‘I thought you were dead.’

  It didn’t sound like her voice, so husky and uneven. Yet he understood. His eyes widened and something passed across his face.

  ‘Ah, that explains a lot.’

  That voice! That deep, rich voice. She’d only heard him whisper before. They’d both kept their voices low so as not to attract the guards’ attention. His whispers had threaded through her dreams for over a year. How often had she woken from a nightmare or the occasional erotic dream with the sound of his voice in her head?

  ‘It is you?’

  Tori wanted to touch him, to check for herself he was no mirage. But her limbs felt like blocks of basalt. All she could do was stand and stare.

  ‘It’s me, Tori.’

  * * *

  Ashraf stared down into her oval face and felt a wave of emotion tumble through him.

  He’d searched for her so long, against impossible odds, when even the best investigators had advised him to give up. He recalled the moment he’d received news that she was alive. Alive and safe. Relief had been so intense, so powerful, that for a moment he’d found it difficult to breathe.

  He’d been fully prepared for this meeting, and still reality was nothing like his expectation.

  Seeing Tori in the flesh unsettled him profoundly.

  Maybe it was her eyes. He’d wondered about their colour. Now he knew. Soft blue. The colour of the dainty yet hardy forget-me-nots that grew in Za’daq’s mountain valleys. Her gaze held his and he felt the bite of need, of hunger, of regret and a hundred emotions he wasn’t in the habit of feeling. Those lovely eyes shone over-bright and her lip quivered.

  Deep inside something responded with an intensity that rocked him back on his heels. As if his feelings were engaged in a way that was totally unfamiliar.

  He’d admired her in Za’daq. She’d been courageous and strong, hiding her fears. He’d found comfort and
welcome oblivion in her lithe body.

  But he hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction after all this time. He’d told himself danger had heightened their responses.

  Ashraf registered the thunder of his pulse and the tingling in his blood that betrayed a surge of adrenaline. He wanted to touch her. More than touch her. He wanted—

  He slammed a door on such thoughts. His reason for being here was too important for distraction. Despite other unexpected urges. To comfort and assure her. To protect her as he hadn’t been able to fifteen months ago.

  Guilt sliced at the memory. But it was blunted by other emotions. Desire. Possessiveness, rampant and untrammelled.

  Ashraf tunnelled his fists into his pockets and forced himself to stand his ground rather than close the space between them.

  ‘You need to sit. You’ve had a shock.’

  She blinked up, eyes round and lips open as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen.

  He knew the feeling. His lungs were labouring as if he were the one surprised. He hadn’t expected to feel—

  Ashraf leaned past her, pulling out a high-backed chair from the table, and gestured for her to sit. She did, and he saw that even in extremity there was a familiar grace about her movements. He’d thought he’d imagined that, embellished his recollections of this woman with qualities she hadn’t actually possessed. He’d told himself guilt and regret had turned her in his mind into someone more remarkable than she really was.

  Striving for emotional distance, he catalogued what he saw. She was the same as in the photos his investigators had sent. Yet she was more.

  Regular features in a face that was long rather than round. Fine lips. Even finer eyes. Eyes that watched his every move with an intensity he felt as a sizzle in his veins. Even the faint shadows of tiredness didn’t mar her attractiveness. The hair he’d remembered as pale was platinum-blonde, pulled back and up in a chignon that left her face clear. But why would she hide those cheekbones? She wasn’t classically beautiful, yet he defied any man not to take a second look.

  Even in a plain white blouse and black trousers Tori Nilsson drew the eye.

  That explained his racing pulse. That and the intimate secret they shared.

  For a second his attention lingered on those breasts, quickly rising and falling against her blouse. They seemed plumper than he remembered—

  ‘Can you sit, instead of towering over me?’

  Ashraf huffed back laughter. There was the woman he remembered. Indomitable and practical. How lucky he’d been not to be stuck with a hysterical companion that night.

  He pulled out a chair and sat knee to knee with her.

  ‘You’re really real.’

  Slim fingers skimmed shakily over his cheek, down his freshly shaved jaw, and two things struck him.

  First, no one these days ever touched him. He’d been busy in the last two years and it had been a long time since he’d had a lover. Plus his position meant that casual touching was out of the question.

  Second, her hand shook. Perhaps he’d been unfair, confronting her like this with no warning. But he hadn’t known she’d believed him dead. If he’d realised...

  No, even if he’d known he’d still have wanted to see her in person.

  ‘Yes. I’m real.’

  He captured her hand, feeling the quick pulse throb at her wrist. At the same time he registered a hint of scent. Something sweet and enticing, slightly citrusy. It transported him to that night they’d been captives together. He couldn’t recall noticing it then, but at some subliminal level he must have. It both enticed and disturbed him, reminding him of how close they’d come to death, and how he’d allowed himself to weaken in this woman’s arms.

  He released her hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Satiny skin trembled at his touch and made his blood fizz.

  He’d assumed his physical response to Tori had been fuelled by danger, by the knowledge that he might die. Was this just a hangover from that night? That had to be it.

  But he wasn’t here for sex.

  Ashraf dropped his hand and sat back.

  * * *

  ‘How did you get away? I heard gunfire. I thought—’

  Tori bit her lip, hearing the wobble in her voice. Clearly she’d thought wrong—so why was she upset? Seeing Ash again was a miracle. One she’d never dared hope for. Her reaction had to be due to shock.

  ‘You thought they’d shot me?’ His eyebrows rose and then he nodded. ‘I’m sure they wish they had. You heard security forces storming the camp. Qadri, the bandits’ leader, had just arrived. He was killed in the raid with several of his followers. The rest are serving time for various offences—including kidnap.’

  The words sounded matter-of-fact. Like a news report of some distant, almost unreal incident. But the sound of those guns had been brutal reality for Tori for too long. She strove to absorb Ash’s news but couldn’t prevent a tremor of reaction.

  ‘I thought you were dead. I—’ She searched his face, even now finding it hard to believe he was there and whole. ‘What are you doing here? It’s an incredible coincidence.’

  ‘No coincidence, Tori. I’ve been looking for you.’ His voice was deep and assured.

  ‘You have?’

  Ash sat straighter. ‘Of course! Did you imagine I’d forget about you? That I’d leave you to the mercy of people-smugglers?’

  ‘But it’s been fifteen months!’

  His dark eyes flashed. ‘I’m not in the habit of forgetting my friends.’

  Was that what they’d been? Friends? Allies, for sure. Lovers too. And now...?

  ‘I regret it took so long. I’d imagined...’

  He shook his head, as if his imaginings weren’t important, but the grim set of his mouth told its own story. If she’d been tormented by the thought of him dead, he’d had the burden of thinking her at the mercy of men like those who’d kidnapped her.

  Tori closed her hand over his fist where it rested on his thigh. ‘I’m not blaming you, Ash. That wasn’t a rebuke. I’m just...surprised.’ Make that astounded. She’d never in her wildest dreams believed she’d see him again. ‘How did you locate me?’

  He shrugged. ‘A team of top investigators, persistence and in the end one lucky break.’

  Investigators working for fifteen months? That must have cost a fortune.

  Tori’s gaze skittered across that beautifully made suit. Ash wasn’t ostentatiously dressed but he projected an aura of authority and wealth, like a man used to wielding power. A little like her father, except in Ash it seemed innate, less cultivated for public consumption. Her father revelled in the importance his position gave him. Ash, on the other hand, wasn’t showy or obvious.

  ‘You’re a determined man.’

  If there’d been an easy trail to follow he’d have found her ages ago. The fact that he’d persevered all this time spoke of a doggedness she could only admire. If she’d still been at the mercy of people-smugglers she was sure he’d have found a way to free her. The knowledge made her heart lurch.

  ‘How did you get away? Month after month my people scoured Za’daq and the border territory for you. They found nothing.’

  My people. He made it sound as if he had his own personal army.

  Belatedly Tori realised she still held his hand. She forced her fingers open and sat back, folding her hands together and telling herself the throb of heat she felt had nothing to do with touching Ash.

  But hearing he’d made it his quest to find her unravelled something she’d kept locked up tight since the horror of the kidnap. And looking into those dark eyes was messing with her head. She squeezed her eyes closed and drew a breath.

  This was so complicated. So profoundly difficult. What on earth was she going to do?

  ‘Tori?’

  She snapped her eyes open. ‘Sorry. I’m still a little stunned.
’

  The implications of Ash being here were only just seeping into her whirling brain. There was so much to consider. So many variables and, yes, worries. Her skin prickled with anxiety and it wasn’t from reliving the past.

  But for now she owed him her story.

  ‘Three of us rode away from the camp. Me, the guard you knocked down and a boy—barely a teenager. When we heard the gunshots the older man was happy. He thought you were dead.’ Tori snatched a fortifying breath, remembering the sour tang of fear and horror she’d felt at his gleeful triumph. ‘But after the first couple of shots he said something to the boy and then headed back the way we’d come.’

  ‘Probably realised there was too much gunfire for an execution.’

  Slowly Tori nodded. She hadn’t considered that. She’d thought the firing squad had been overly enthusiastic, or perhaps celebrating.

  ‘The pair of us kept riding, but the boy wasn’t happy. He began to look scared. Maybe he understood some English, because I told him what would happen to him when he was caught. I might have exaggerated...’

  ‘Good for you!’ Ash looked admiring and Tori was amazed at how good that felt.

  ‘What did I have to lose? Besides, I was upset.’

  An understatement for the raw rage and fear that had consumed her as they’d trekked through the wilderness. Hearing that gunfire and believing Ash dead had been a living nightmare. Even remembering that moment—

  ‘Go on.’

  Tori spread her hands. ‘It wasn’t really hard to get away. I realised later he let me escape.’

  Ash nodded. ‘He must have realised something had gone wrong and he’d be in trouble if he was found with you.’

  ‘I ran away during a rest stop. The rope was a little loose and I eventually got it undone. I was terrified he’d come after me but I never saw him again.’

  Tori flexed her hands, remembering the burn of dust against red raw flesh.

  ‘Hours later I stumbled into the path of a four-wheel drive. A couple of foreigners were returning to their private yacht after a trip inland.’