LITMIR.BIZ

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was studying, was clearly an innocent, while Raffa was most certainly not.

      ‘Three good-looking women,’ Roman commented, glancing between his friends.

      ‘For three ruthless asset strippers,’ Raffa added, devouring the last piece of orange with relish. ‘I look forward to stripping the assets off this one—’

      Raffa’s dark eyes blackened dangerously as Sharif gathered the photographs in. Sharif hardly realised that he was caressing the photograph of Britt Skavanga with his forefinger while denying Raffa further study of Leila, the youngest sister.

      ‘This could be our most promising project to date,’ the man known to the world as the Black Sheikh commented.

      ‘And if anyone can land this deal, Sharif can,’ Roman remarked, hoping to heal the momentary rift between his friends. He could only be thankful their interest wasn’t in the same girl.

      Raffa’s laugh relaxed them all. ‘Didn’t I hear you have some interesting sexual techniques in Kareshi, Sharif? Silken ties? Chiffon blindfolds?’

      Roman huffed a laugh at this. ‘I’ve heard the same thing. In the harem tents it’s said they use creams and potions to send sensation through the roof—’

      ‘Enough,’ Sharif rapped, raising his hands to silence his friends. ‘Can we please return to business?’

      Within seconds the Skavanga girls were forgotten and the talk was all of balance sheets and financial predictions, but in one part of his mind Sharif was still thinking about a pair of cool grey eyes and a full, expressive mouth, and what could be accomplished with a little expert tutelage.

      An absolute monarch, bred to a hard life in the desert, Sharif had been trained to rule and fight and argue at council with the wisest of men—women being notable by their absence, which was something he had changed as soon as he took over the country. Women in Kareshi had used to be regarded as ornaments to be pampered and spoiled and hidden away; under his rule they were expected to pull their weight. Education for all was now the law.

      And who would dare to argue with the Black Sheikh? Not Britt Skavanga, that was for sure. Staring at Britt’s photograph and seeing the steely determination so similar to his own in her eyes only reinforced his intention to check out all the assets in Skavanga personally. Britt possessed the generous, giving mouth of a concubine, with the unrelenting gaze of a Viking warrior. The combination aroused him. Even the severity of the suit she was wearing intrigued him. Her breasts thrusting against the soft wool stirred his senses in a most agreeable way. He adored severe tailoring on a woman. It was a type of shorthand he had learned to read many years ago. Severe equalled repressed, or possibly a player who liked to tease. Either way, he was a huge fan.

      ‘Are you still with us, Sharif?’ Raffa enquired with amusement as his friend finally pushed Britt’s photograph away.

      ‘Yes, but not for long as I will be leaving for Skavanga in the morning, travelling in my capacity of geologist and advisor to the consortium. This will allow me to make an impartial assessment of the situation without ruffling any feathers.’

      ‘That’s sensible,’ Raffa agreed. ‘Talk of the Black Sheikh descending on a business would be enough to send anyone into a panic.’

      ‘Have you ever descended on a tasty business prospect without devouring it?’ Roman enquired, hiding his smile.

      ‘The fact that this mysterious figure, conjured by the press and known to the world as the Black Sheikh, has never had a photograph published will surely be an advantage to you,’ Raffa suggested.

      ‘I reserve judgement until we meet again when I will be in a position to tell you if the claims that have been made about the Skavanga Diamonds are true,’ Sharif said with a closing gesture.

      ‘We can ask for no more than that,’ his two friends agreed.

      ‘Well, clearly, I must be the one to meet him,’ Britt insisted as the three sisters sat round the interestingly shaped—if not very practical, thanks to the holes the designer had punched in it—blonde wood kitchen table in Britt’s sleek, minimalist, barely lived-in penthouse.

      ‘Clearly—why?’ Britt’s feisty middle sister, Eva, demanded. ‘Who says you have the right to take the lead in this new venture? Shouldn’t we all have a part in it? What about the equality you’re always banging on about, Britt?’

      ‘Britt has far more business experience than we have,’ the youngest and most mild-mannered sister, Leila, pointed out. ‘And that’s a perfectly sensible reason for Britt to be the one to meet with him,’ Leila added, sweeping anxious fingers through her tumbling blonde curls.

      ‘Perfectly sensible?’ Eva scoffed. ‘Britt has experience in mining iron ore and copper. But diamonds?’ Eva rolled her emerald eyes. ‘You must agree the three of us are virgins where diamonds are concerned?’

      And Eva was likely to remain a virgin in every sense if she kept on like this, Britt thought, fretting like a mother over her middle sister. Eva had been a glass-half-empty type of person for as long as Britt could remember and sadly there were no dashing Petruchios in Skavanga to prevent Eva from turning into a fully-fledged shrew. ‘I’m going to deal with this—and with him,’ she said firmly.

      ‘You and the Black Sheikh?’ Eva said scornfully. ‘You might be a hotshot businesswoman here in Skavanga, but the sheikh’s business interests are global—and he runs a country. What on earth makes you think you can take a man like that on?’

      ‘I know my business,’ Britt said calmly. ‘I know our mine and I’ll be factual. I’ll be cool and I’ll be reasoned.’

      ‘Britt’s very good at doing stuff like this without engaging her emotions,’ Leila added.

      ‘Really?’ Eva mocked. ‘Whether she can or not remains to be seen.’

      ‘I won’t let you down,’ Britt promised, knowing her sisters’ concerns both for her and for the business had prompted this row. ‘I’ve handled difficult people in the past and I’m well prepared to meet the Black Sheikh. I realise I must handle him with kid gloves—’

      ‘Nice.’ Eva laughed.

      Britt ignored this. ‘We would be unwise to underestimate him,’ she said. ‘The ruler of Kareshi is known as the Black Sheikh for a very good reason—’

      ‘Rape and pillage?’ Eva suggested scathingly.

      Britt held her tongue. ‘Sheikh Sharif is one of the foremost geologists in the world.’

      ‘It’s a shame we couldn’t find any photographs of him,’ Leila mused.

      ‘He’s a geologist, not a film star,’ Britt pointed out. ‘And how many Arab rulers have you seen photographs of?’

      ‘He’s probably so ugly he’d break the camera,’ Eva muttered. ‘I bet he’s a nerd with pebble glasses and a bristly chin.’

      ‘If he is he would be easier for Britt to deal with,’ Leila said hopefully.

      ‘A ruler who has moved his country forward and brought peace sounds like a decent man to me, so, whatever he looks like, it doesn’t matter. I just need your support. Fact: the minerals at the mine are running out and we need investment. The consortium this man heads up has the money to allow us to mine the diamonds.’

      There was a silence as Britt’s sisters accepted the truth of this and she breathed a sigh of relief when they nodded their heads. Now she had a chance to rescue the mine and the town of Skavanga that was built around it. That, together with all the fresh challenges ahead of her, made her meeting with the so-called Black Sheikh seem less of a problem.

      She was feeling slightly less sanguine the following day.

      ‘Serves you right for building up your hopes,’ Eva said as the girls gathered in Britt’s study after hearing her groan. ‘Your famous Black Sheikh can’t even be bothered to meet with you,’ Eva

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