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

Chapter Eight

Opening the door, she stepped back in surprise, expecting her breakfast, not Saqr, who strode in, smiling at the sight of her  in a lacy nighty and matching negligee, looking so debonair in his dark suit pants and white opened necked shirt. "Why do you hide yourself behind those other ridiculous clothes? You are such a beautiful woman Natalie, and should be proud of it."

She wrapped her negligee around her. "Who said I wasn't," she challenged though confused, frowning. "What are you doing here, Saqr," then moaned. "Don't tell me I messed it up and got the time wrong?" He stopped and turned back, reaching out. She stepped back startled. His hand dropped away.

"No, of course not. I thought I would take you out to breakfast. I have my whole day free to give to you. Just you. Let's get down to that interview, habibti." He handed over a folder in his hand. "Your questionnaire." Stunned she opened the folder, flicking through as she walked in behind him, the door closing behind them automatically. Pages, to smile. Finally. Okay, so what has changed? She closed the folder, looking up at her prince. "What about my breakfast?" She would hate all the work of preparing wasted, because she wasn't here.

"Cancelled last night. I have to apologise to you Natalie. I was being very difficult," she nodded. "It wasn't your fault. No matter who it was I would have been the same. Bad timing after, well you know what." Again she nodded, her heart breaking for him and his loss. "Let's start again. We have all day and you can ask me anything you want. No restrictions."

"That could be dangerous for you, Saqr," she smiled, walking off towards her bedroom. "Won't be long." She paused at the door, and looked back. "Where are we eating? Palace or out of Palace." He arched a brow. "Need to know what to wear, your highness," that was said with much more affection than respect, and had been for awhile. In answer, he headed back, opening the entrance door, letting in a girl, who passed into her room to lay an outfit on the bed for her. She followed as did Saqr "So now I have to guess?" Somewhere special by the tailed vest top matching the silky caftan of white, with patterns of rich colours of red, gold, orange and browns, with golden bands of edging.

"How about being a surprise?"

"I'm not sure if I can trust your surprises, your highness," she noted warily, she had been at the blunt of a few before, and had never been in her favour. He came to her this time, taking her face into his hands, ignoring her startled look to kiss her on the lips.

"And I told you to call me Saqr, now get changed so we can leave. I know I must feed the woman first." Stunned, she nodded, feeling funny inside. He departed, leaving her standing in the bedroom alone as the door closed, and looked at the caftan on the bed. Things were changing and she wasn't sure, if it was for the better.

Was he still playing games? She looked down at the folder in her arm, sitting down on the bed, flicking through. Reading a very detail answers more than she had ever expected. On this alone, she could do her story, pausing when she came to a blank spot, brows furrowed together. Why? She flicked ahead to find certain questions unanswered. Like life in the desert, the real desert beyond the palace. Falconry? Bedouin? Later, she wouldn't push it, now he had given her so much to work on, dropping the folder onto her bed, stood and looked down upon her latest addition of clothing. He had already given her so much, Palace clothes.

This was different. Tailored, running her fingers long the swirling patten on the vest that matched the front of the skirt in gold thread some red added between, joining back to gold while the side of the caftan was more of Arabic flower designs, all so beautifully made. Hand crafted she'd bet, lifting carefully to take with her into the walk-in wardrobe to change. Coming out, feeling like an Arabian princess as the full skirt swirled around her naked flesh of her legs.