‘So you’re an engineer as well, are you?’
‘Of sorts.’ David was cursing his luck. Not only was he doomed to spend the next two and a half hours sitting next to her, but he couldn’t put her in her place as he was longing to do. He was very fond of Lucy and Patrick, so he could hardly tell their guest to shut up and mind her own business. It was hard to believe that there was any connection between them, though. The Wards were one of the nicest couples he knew, while this girl was a ghastly intrusion from some other life altogether.
In spite of himself, he found himself glancing at her. She had beautiful skin—either that, or she was very cleverly made-up. Probably the latter, David decided. Those lashes were too long and thick and dark to be natural with that pale gold hair, and he could see how she had outlined her eyes with a fine pencil.
He had a sudden, bitter picture of Alix at the mirror in his bathroom, her mouth pursed in concentration and one finger holding her eyelid steady as she carefully drew a line above her lashes. David was unprepared for the way the memory could still hurt. Alix had taught him a valuable lesson, and he was wary still of girls like her.
Girls like Claudia Cook.
She would be in marketing, he guessed, or perhaps something in the media. Some job that enabled her to kiss people extravagantly and run around with a clipboard feeling important. She would go to parties and claim to be exhausted by work, although she probably spent most of her day on the phone without producing anything more tangible than a date for lunch or an agreement to talk later.
David smiled grimly to himself. Oh, yes, he had met girls like Claudia before, and he was in no danger at all of being impressed!
The plane had turned, poised for a moment at the end of the runway before hurtling itself down the tarmac and heaving itself into the air at the last moment. Claudia sucked in her breath and concentrated on breathing evenly. David Stirling would only sneer if he thought she was nervous, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction of making a fuss!
Still, it was a relief to hear the tell-tale ‘ping’ of the ‘no smoking’ sign being switched off, and as the plane levelled out she turned back to David, only to catch his eyes straying back to his report. She couldn’t have him concentrating on his work, could she, now?
‘Are you based out in Telama’an like Patrick?’ she asked, all eager interest.
‘No,’ said David through his teeth. The graph danced up and down on the page beneath his eyes. Those wide eyes and that gushing voice didn’t fool him for a minute. He knew perfectly well that she had set out to be deliberately provocative for some reason. Well, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait again. She would soon get bored with cold courtesy. ‘I spend most of my time in the London head office.’
‘Why are you going to Telama’an now?’ Claudia persevered.
He drew a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm. ‘I’ve got a series of extremely important meetings to attend,’ he said tightly after a moment. ‘We’re coming to the end of the first phase of the project, and we want to persuade the government to award us the contract for the next major stage, but there are several other big firms in the running, so we’re up against some tough competition.
‘The final decision rests with the local sheikh, who is a cousin of the Sultan and who’s been given overall responsibility for the project, but he’s not an easy man to deal with. After months of requesting a meeting, he’s finally offered us the chance to give him a special presentation the day after tomorrow, and it’s absolutely vital that I get there as soon as possible to brief the rest of the team before the meeting. However, it does mean that I must check these reports, so if you’ll—’
‘Well, that’s a coincidence!’ Claudia interrupted before he could complete his excuse. ‘It’s absolutely vital that I get there by tomorrow as well.’
‘Really?’ he bit out. ‘And why is that?’
She leant towards him confidentially. ‘It’s my thirtieth birthday tomorrow, and I’m going to a party to meet my destiny!’
David looked at her with incredulity. ‘Your what?’
‘My destiny.’ Claudia hoped she looked suitably soulful. ‘Years ago a fortune-teller told me that I wouldn’t get married until I was thirty, and that I’d meet my husband somewhere where there was a lot of space and sand.’
‘So you thought you’d just get on a plane to the desert on the off-chance that you’d bump into some poor unfortunate man?’ David didn’t even bother to hide his disbelief and she smothered a smile as she opened her eyes wide.
‘Oh, no. I know exactly who he’ll be. The fortune-teller told me that the initials J and D would be very important, so I’m sure I’ll be able to recognise him at once. Lucy’s going to throw a party so that I meet him on my birthday and all I have to do is get there by tomorrow!’
He snorted. ‘You’re not trying to tell me that Lucy believes any mumbo-jumbo about predictions? I’ve always thought of her as an intelligent woman!’
‘She was there when my fortune was told,’ Claudia told him solemnly. ‘We were only fourteen and it made a big impression on her,’ she added, omitting to mention that both girls had burst giggling out of the tent and Lucy had teased her unmercifully for years afterwards about having to wait until she was thirty before she got married.
At fourteen, thirty had seemed impossibly remote. She had never dreamt that she would actually ever get to be that old, or that she wouldn’t be married long before. When she had met Michael, she had even joked with Lucy about thwarting fate and tying the knot at twenty-nine.
Except that Michael hadn’t wanted to commit himself in the end—at least not to her—and now here she was, a day short of thirty and just as unwed as the fortune-teller had said she would be.
‘You can’t spend your thirtieth birthday on your own!’ Lucy had said when Claudia had rung to tell her that the engagement was finally off.
‘I’m so miserable, it doesn’t matter what I do,’ Claudia had said. ‘I can’t be bothered to have a party where everyone will just feel sorry for me.’
‘Come out to Shofrar, then,’ Lucy offered impulsively. ‘No one will know anything about Michael, so you could be whoever you wanted to be. It’ll be great,’ she went on, getting carried away with enthusiasm for the idea. ‘We’ll have a party on your birthday and you can meet Justin Darke.’
‘Justin who?’
‘Justin Darke. He’s an American architect who’s working with Patrick out here, and he is seriously attractive. We are talking gorgeous, Claudia! As soon as I met him I thought he’d be perfect for you—much better than that creep Michael. He’s almost disgustingly nice, warm, sincere, single...what more could you want?’
‘There must be something wrong with him,’ said Claudia, whose experience of men had left her armoured against high expectations. Nice, warm, sincere men weren’t usually wandering around unmarried without a good reason.
‘But there isn’t! He’s just a great guy,’ Lucy insisted. ‘And I know he’d like you. I showed him your picture the other day and he said you looked like an exciting lady!’
‘I don’t feel very exciting at the moment,’ Claudia said gloomily.
‘You just need someone to boost your ego—and Justin’s so charming that you wouldn’t be able to resist feeling better!’
Claudia was beginning to warm to the idea. ‘I suppose it would