The Sheikh's Dilemma - completed

Chapter Two

Taking a deep breath, Catherine approached the top of the stairs and made her way down to meet her supposed suitors for a future husband. She felt sick. That was the last thing she wanted. Being engaged to Sayyad was just a means to an end. A farce, however, this was worse. Dressed in white, she felt like a lamb sent to the slaughters. This royalty thing stunk. She didn't ask to be apart of this life. She was quite happy working for Sayyid. Or working in Queensland.

Three years of bliss, and now this, put on show. Sold to the highest bidder, or that's how it felt. She had kept her hair basic, pulled back into a ponytail. Held back with a pin against the nape of her neck, single pearl earrings, and soft dusting of makeup. The white lace dress hugged her every line, even down her arms, with a tiny thin white belt around her waist followed by a long train. It might as well have been a wedding dress. Pausing just outside the ballroom, she pressed a hand against the butterflies dancing in her stomach, released a long breath, then entered the grand room. Filled with people from all over the world. Lights from the hanging chandeliers lit up the room in all its glory.

Of course, this whole night had been paraded around as a welcome home party. Mostly couples, mingling with very desirable bachelors. All dressed in black tuxedos being a black and white ball, hence the dress. Excusing himself from a Princess, Duke James Devonport crossed over towards his daughter, kissing her cheek in greeting. A very distinguished man in his late fifties, still very striking in looks and stance. Over six-foot, where she had got her own height from, though not as tall. By a good four inches. He placed his hand on her back, leading her through the gathering, making introductions. Lots of leering looks, and too heavy handshakes. Some lingering far too long for her liking.

She was just at the stage where she turned and ran back to her room, screaming, when the latest crowd parted, and she stared at the last man she expected to see. Her heart thundered in her chest as she stared at his strong angular features, dark stubble, and thick glossy hair that was perfectly styled as usual. Hand in the pocket of his very expensive black tailored made tuxedo, fitting perfectly to his broad shoulder, and back, tapping down his tight toned body. Perfect matching pants that outlined his long masculine tone legs.

What? Now that she was a Lady, she was suitable, turning towards her father. "What's he doing here?" she hissed pointed at the Sheikh, who was so engrossed with his beautiful blond companion to notice her, it seemed. Just another slap in her face, turning her back upon him. What the hell was she thinking?

He shrugged. "It seemed rude not to invite him since he was in London." She released a long breath. So he wasn't here for her. Good. She moved away in the opposite direction, mingling with her father's guests, acting the perfect hostess. With all the fake smiles and small talk, she worked her way to the provided bar, ordering a Courvoisier Rose Spritzer to be taken, and turned, watching the gathering. She stiffened as a familiar figure headed towards her, and she had nowhere to escape his presence. Her gaze held by his dark amber one.

"What are you supposed to be, the virginal sacrifice?" Sayyad asked, stepping up to her side, glass in hand, leaning against the bar.

"I've done that one already. Didn't quite work out," she said coldly, indifferent. "What are you doing here?"

"The same thing everyone else is, seeing what's on the market."

So he was here for her after all. Her pulses began to race just that little bit faster. "I thought you would be looking from your own fish pond?"

He shook his head. "Just come to remind you, you're still engaged to me, so I'm taking you off the market."

She shot him a sideways glance in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. Suddenly, you find out I'm a Lady. I'm suddenly suitable. Forget it Sayyad, you had your chance and blew it, so I'm not interested."