The bedroom on board Tadj’s jet was quite small but well equipped with the most comfortable bed, Lucy thought with a relieved sigh as she settled down on the crisp white sheets. But sleep didn’t come easily, and she tossed and turned as she tried to work out what Tadj was thinking. When she finally drifted off to sleep there were worry lines between her brows, but she slept heavily, only waking when the promised knock came on the door.
Having taken a fast shower, she wrapped a towel around her and came out to find fresh clothes laid out on the bed. It was pretty much a replay of the clothes she’d been wearing when she boarded the aircraft. Who’d done this for her? she wondered, tracing the edge of the fabric with her fingers. Time to get her head around the fact that billionaires lived very different lives, with squads of people to anticipate their every need. The engine noise was already changing in preparation for landing, and with a shrug she pulled on the clothes.
Back in the main cabin, there was no sign of Tadj. He must have returned to the flight deck to take over the landing of the plane. She took her seat, and as the undercarriage went down she felt safe in his hands. Outside the window, a spectacular light show of pink, indigo, and gold was the most spectacular welcome to Qalala. The jet was on its final approach to what appeared to be a solitary airstrip in rolling miles of golden desert. By the time the wheels touched down, the purple light of dusk had settled over the land, but far from this being a sinister, or isolated location, Lucy could see vast crowds had gathered. The length of the runway was lined with bonfires, and people were already celebrating Tadj’s return. Entire families seemed to have turned out to welcome him home. There were even riders on horseback, dressed in traditional robes, waving flambeaux in the air. The Emir of Qalala was home.
‘Are you ready to disembark?’
Lucy turned to see Tadj standing behind her in the aisle. For a moment words escaped her. No more the conventionally dressed pilot, but in traditional black robes edged with gold, and a flowing black headdress wrapped around his head and face. The air of danger and exoticism he exuded was phenomenal. The photograph in his country house did him no justice at all.
‘Lucy?’ he prompted when she didn’t move right away. ‘People are waiting for us.’
Tempted to stubbornly refuse to rush, she remembered the countless people who had waited so long to greet their ruler, so she did rush, and was greeted on exit by warm gusts of spice-laden air, mixed with the astringent tang of aviation fuel.
‘Shouldn’t you go first?’ she asked Tadj when he indicated that she should go ahead of him.
A flight attendant discreetly explained that the Emir would exit the aircraft last, which seemed strange to Lucy, but she didn’t want to tread on any toes at such an early stage of the visit. Stepping out, she was blinded by lights, all of which were directed at the small platform at the top of the aircraft steps. She was just one of many being used to dress the stage, she realised, before the star of the show made his appearance. The cheers were deafening as the Emir of Qalala dipped his head to exit the jet. As he stepped out into the light his name was chanted repeatedly. With the sound vibrating through her body, Lucy had to remind herself that this man was the father of her child.
After descending the steps and greeting the official welcoming party, Tadj strode away towards the first in a fleet of sleek black SUVs. Lucy wondered if everyone who followed her onto the runway was heading to Wolf Fort.
Tadj’s off-roader sped off before Lucy had chance to work out which SUV she was supposed to be travelling in. She had never felt more isolated than she did now, amongst this crowd of strangers, all of whom seemed to know exactly where they were heading. The sense of unreality only intensified as a gust of wind blew desert sand into her eyes. Everyone else was wearing protective headgear, she noticed. For once, it was a relief when a black-clad security guard, in a sharp suit, with a suspicious bulge beneath his jacket, ushered her towards one of the SUVs.
If only Tadj could have given her a few words of reassurance and explained what was happening.
Was this how he had felt three months ago?
Chastened, she climbed into the vehicle. No longer the lover, Tadj was the Emir of Qalala, and she would be a fool to forget it. She might be the mother of his child, but her future in this foreign land was unknowable and uncertain.
They’d driven for miles in the dark, sometimes on the highway, and sometimes on bumpy tracks, when suddenly lights appeared in the distance, and the ghostlike walls of an imposing edifice loomed out of the shadows. The fort was brilliantly lit and didn’t appear sinister at all. Flags were flying in celebration of the Emir’s return, and fireworks lit up the sky. Lucy’s anxiety was quickly replaced by avid curiosity, and as the vehicle slowed to a halt she could see the official party greeting Tadj on the steps of the fortress. Everyone was dressed in the flowing robes of Qalala, and a guard of honour lined the route across a vast courtyard to an imposing stone entrance beyond. It was a disappointment to see Tadj disappear inside the ancient walls, but an elderly man who had stepped forward to greet her introduced himself as Abdullah as he bowed over her hand, and greeted her with warmth, saying politely, ‘Welcome to Qalala. I hope you have had a good journey? As soon as I have seen you comfortably settled in your suite of rooms, I will take your order for food and drink, and hand over the agenda for your stay.’
‘My agenda?’ Lucy queried.
‘His Majesty is leaving for the sapphire mines in the morning, and expects you to join him.’
Why couldn’t Tadj tell her that? ‘The sapphire mines?’ she prompted, to the echoing clatter of their feet on the stone-paved courtyard. ‘Are the mines far away?’
‘No more than a day’s ride,’ Abdullah informed her with a gentle and reassuring smile. Bowing politely once more, he invited Lucy to go ahead of him into Wolf Fort.
Of course Tadj was busy, Lucy reasoned. He’d only just arrived home. She must be patient. But why did he want her to see the mines? Her surroundings distracted her. The historic fort was stunning and atmospheric, and called for more than one sketch to record this perfect blend of old and new. Behind its towering exterior, she found every modern luxury, even an elevator to transport her to her accommodation, which, it amused Lucy to find, was in a turret. If this was to be her home for the next unspecified number of days, Lucy thought as she turned full circle, it was going to be a magical stay, and she had the additional reassurance of knowing that her stepfather would never find her here.
‘Do you like it?’ Abdullah asked as she took in the fantasia of silk hangings, jewel-coloured rugs, and gilded mirrors.
‘I love it,’ Lucy enthused. ‘Please thank the Emir for his kindness in allowing me to stay here, as well as all the staff who’ve prepared so thoughtfully for my arrival.’ She was looking at the colourful exotic floral displays, the platters of delicious fruits, and jugs of squeezed juices. The turret suite was an unusual space with curving rough stone walls. These were softened by colourful and tasteful decorations, and beyond the windows she could see the crenellated battlements dressed for the Emir’s return with a forest of flags.
‘Your agenda, Miss Gillingham...’
Lucy turned in time to see Abdullah placing a document on top of a gilded console table. ‘And your menu for tonight,’ he added, placing a second sheet of paper on top of the first. ‘Though, of course, the kitchen will accommodate anything you care for, and at any time you’d like to eat it.’ His face broke into a smile, as if it delighted him to share the pleasures of the fort with Lucy.
‘A chicken wrap?’ she asked, mouth already watering at the thought as she returned his smile. Pregnancy cravings could pop up at the most unlikely times.
‘With extra fries?’ Abdullah anticipated with a grin.
‘Wonderful,’ Lucy enthused, relaxing for the first time since arriving in Qalala. ‘Before you go,’ she added as he turned to go, ‘does His Majesty have a direct line?’ She was done with hanging around, leaving the rest of her stay in the hands of