Monarch of the Sands Read Online Free

earth would you want to meet him?’
    He shrugged and her obvious reluctance to have him do so only fired up his sense of determination that he should. ‘Why wouldn’t I? My country owes a great debt to your father and I am an old family friend. Since you don’t have any senior male relative to look out for you, I consider it my duty to meet the man you are intending to marry.’
    Frankie hoped that her face didn’t betray her appalled reaction to his suggestion—and not just because he had painted a rather grim image of himself as a “senior male relative”. The last thing she wanted was forhim to meet Simon—because surely Zahid would make
any
man look hapless in his presence.
    ‘Well, perhaps we can arrange something for the next time you’re in town,’ she said, with the confident air of someone who knew that tight royal schedules made such casual meetings almost impossible.
    ‘But aren’t you seeing him tonight? Aren’t you planning to cook him dinner?’
    She wondered how on earth he could have known that until she saw him looking at the covered dish of chicken and the little heap of potatoes waiting to be peeled; the box of unopened candles which lay next to them. Perhaps he had been a detective in another life, she thought crossly. ‘Yes, I’m cooking him dinner. I’d ask you to join us except that you’re probably busy.’ She gave a weak smile. ‘And I’ve only got two chicken breasts.’
    Zahid almost laughed at the sheer banality of her statement, but the truth of it was that her attitude was firing him up even more. He wasn’t used to people saying no to him. And his curiosity had been aroused. What was she trying to hide? ‘No woman should have to cook a meal when she’s just got engaged—she should be freed from the drudgery of domesticity and left to enjoy the romance,’ he said silkily. ‘So I’ll take you and Simon out to dinner instead.’
    ‘No, honestly—’
    ‘Yes,
honestly
,’ he mocked. ‘I insist. What’s the name of a good local restaurant?’
    ‘Le Poule au Pot is pretty good—but you’ll never get a table this late.’
    ‘Please don’t be naïve, Francesca—I can always get a table. I’ll meet you in there at eight-thirty,’ he saidimplacably, as—pushing away his untouched tea—he got up from the table.
    Frankie scrambled to her feet, aware of the sheer power of his body as she stared up into his hawklike features. ‘I suppose there’s no point in me trying to change your mind?’
    ‘No point at all.’ Black eyes bored into her. ‘And why would you want to?’
    This silky challenge she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—answer. All she knew was that the thought of subjecting Simon—and herself—to the distracting company of the powerful man she’d known since childhood was filling her with trepidation.
    Zahid looked down into her upturned face and those strangely kissable lips, which her tiny white teeth were currently digging into as she turned anxious blue eyes up at him. And in that moment she looked so vulnerable yet so damned
sexy
that he began to wonder whether fate might not have had a hand in bringing him here today.
    ‘Just don’t be late,’ he added softly.

CHAPTER THREE
    ‘S MILE , baby, and just relax—we’re going to have a ball.’
Relax?
Frankie swallowed down the acid taste of nerves as Simon eased his car into the last available spot in the Le Poule au Pot’s car park. How could she possibly relax, knowing that an evening with Zahid lay ahead of them? Questions had been spinning round in her head all the time she was getting ready. Wondering why the autocratic sheikh was insisting on taking them out to dinner—and what on earth his agenda was. Was it really because he wanted to vet Simon, to see if he measured up and was suitable? And if so, wasn’t that an awfully
old-fashioned
point of view?
    ‘I just wish we weren’t going out,’ she said, her fingers playing nervously with her necklace. ‘And having a quiet dinner at