A week in the life of a Sheikh -Saqr's story - completed

Chapter Two

The first day of interviews, and Natalie was nervous as hell. It had been a relief that she had yesterday off. She had been stiff and sore, so soaked in the spa, then worked on what questions she wanted to ask, and what directions she wanted to go.

A bouquet of flowers arrived from the King with a note, wishing her a quick recovery, apologising for his son. The way things were going it would be a miracle, if he would even speak to her at all. Yet not one word from his son, then again, he hadn't done it on purpose, by the utter shock on his face, before they collided. He had tried to save her from the worst.

Trying one outfit after another, she finally settled on a brown skirt, and lacy matching top with a hobo flavour. Face washed, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Only used basic makeup, she didn't add any other. Not wanting to give the impression she was out to impress him with feminine wiles. She wanted to be taken serious.

Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath, and then left the bedroom, heading out into the main room, where she waited for collection by a palace guard. Starting with a sit down interview. Getting to know the prince. She collected her camera, popping in her oversized handbag with her lens, adding a recorder and a pad with a pen.

A knock at her door had her rush across and found a palace guard. "Good morning, Miss Natalie, I'm here to escort you his highness' offices," she was greeted with.

"Thank you, that is most kind," she smiled, following him out. The door closing behind her. Going off to their right, and turned sharply, taking some stairs, then led through another door. Taken off into another direction than the one she took the other night. Even though from the sky above, when she arrived by helicopter, she had seen the size of the Palace, one didn't appreciate how big it was in reality, until you walked and weaved through the corridors and levels.

Finally, they come to a different section of the palace with marble floors, high ceiling, and all detailed carved patterns of their culture. Passing busy men and woman at their desks, running around seeing to palace business. She guessed it would take a lot to run a palace, even the desert one. Perhaps this was their main palace, and visit the city one for formal functions. So many questions that needed jotting down.

Approaching a heavyset carved door, the guard knocked, and then opened the door, letting Natalie in. She took a deep breath, her stomach twisted up in knots with nerves. This has been her first interview ever. Damn, why did she pick such a big fish to fry? Holding onto her handbag strap tightly, she tentatively entered further that was like entering a stateroom rather than an office. The red Persian carpet softened her footstep. Portraits donned the walls of robe dressed men, all standing proud and regal. Suddenly it was so overpowering, taking short, sharp breaths, trying to calm her failing nerves. What was she doing here? She had no rights to be here. Her mother was correct; she wasn't made for this job. Get a grip. Just breathe.

"Finally Miss Natalie," his deep voice of disapproval rippled through her like a crushing wave of icy, cold water. Startled, she turned, finding him seated behind the biggest desk, she had ever encountered. Hand crafted out of dark wood, with carved legs, solid base, the middle topped with black leather. Dressed in a dark blue suit with pale blue shirt open at the neck, collar button undone. Saqr was leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, and fingers steeple against his full, sensual lips. She blinked, swallowing. Where did that come from? Sensual? "Please sit down," he waved at a large black arm chair with winged sides, and arms. She scampered across, placing her handbag over the wing of the chair, and settled in, pulling down her skirt, then rustled through her handbag, finding her recorder, notepad and pen.

"I hope you are recovered from the incident the other day, your highness?" She asked, hating the deafening silence.

"Fully and yourself?"