The Sheikh's Forbidden Jewel

Part 5-Chapter 4

Memories assailed Georgina as she walked into the dining room and sat down at the imposing oak table. How she'd hated the interminable lunches with Uncle Percy and Aunt Chantal and their interchangeable, braying friends. She'd squirmed in her seat and nibbled at her food, waiting for the moment when her uncle would release her, and she'd run down to the beach where Idriss waited.

"Does it bother you?"

His voice hauled her back to the present. She blinked at the arresting man sitting opposite her, framed in blue by the bay window.

"What?"

His gesture encompassed the heavy carved furniture, the hand-painted wallpaper, the slice of sea and sky behind him.

"The fact that I now own all this. Instead of you."

The words hit straight at the guilty secret in her heart, and her skin betrayed her once more. She rubbed a hand against her face, in a vain effort to disguise its heightened colour.

"Not really. I never thought of it as mine. I never really believed I'd inherit it one day," she said.

Unlike Alex and her father. She toyed with a silver fish knife to give her hands something to do.

"I had very little contact with my aunt and uncle in the past twenty years. On the rare occasions when I thought about it, I assumed they'd sell the castle one day. Aunt Chantal always wanted to go travelling."

Georgina let out a shaky laugh.

"She's living her dream now."

Idriss's ebony eyes sharpened.

"What about you, Georgina? What's your dream? What do you want?"

A middle-aged woman in a black dress and immaculate apron appeared with two plates of seafood, granting Georgina a few minutes of grace to think of an answer. And hope that Sheikh Al-Makudi didn't include mind-reading among his many talents.

"Thank you, Marie. So?" he prompted.

Marie gave her boss an affectionate smile and a curious one to his guest, and bustled out of the room. Georgina speared a scallop on her fork and twirled it in the vinaigrette before answering.

"I want to organise parties."

Idriss tore a piece from the baguette next to him.

"What do you like about your job?"

Georgie relaxed a little, enough to chew the delicate, sea-flavoured morsel. She could talk about that. For hours.

"I enjoy the creative side of it, coming up with ideas to surprise people and hopefully delight them. I love seeing it all come together, knowing I pulled it off. Watching the joy on the person's face. You know, the bride, or the birthday boy or girl, or the graduate..."

Idriss spread butter over the soft white bread, but didn't bring it to his mouth.

"Are you ever that person?"

The salty mussels in Georgina's mouth suddenly tasted like tears. She pushed them down, past the lump in her throat. Idriss had seen right inside her, all the way down to the hidden part of her soul. The part that knew she'd never belong, not really, because she'd never be thin enough, pretty enough, good enough. Because no one would ever organise a party for her, or even invite her to one. He'd found the hidden Georgina who had decided long ago that she'd only go to the ball if she organised it.

And with that realisation came a surge of anger. What right did he have to poke and probe her, like a scientist tormenting a mouse? She grabbed the lobster in the middle of her plate, wrestled with the giant claw.