‘If it’s written, insh’ Allah, whether it is your mother’s wish or your own, it will happen and I wish you happy of your bride.’

‘You believe in fate?’

Hanif sounded so certain, but then he’d seen for himself how fate had tossed the lovely Lucy Forrester into his cousin’s arms. Who could have foreseen that in his future?

Or that the deliciously curvy and delightfully offbeat Metcalfe would be at the wheel of his car today.

‘Can I borrow Ameerah for a moment? My driver found her the snowstorm when my original gift was broken. I’d like her to know that it was appreciated.’

‘Her?’ Hanif’s brow scarcely moved. But it moved.

Diana checked her watch. It was time to go and bring the car round to the front but, as she stood up, the sitting room door burst open and a lanky, olive-skinned, dark-haired girl launched herself through it.

‘Thank you!’ she exclaimed dramatically. ‘Thank you so much for finding me the snowstorm. I absolutely love it!’

Diana, taken aback by such an over-the-top performance, looked up, seeking a responsible adult.

What she got was Sheikh Zahir, leaning on the door frame.

Oh. Right. This was his doing…

‘I’m very glad you like it, Princess Ameerah. Are you having a lovely party?’

‘Oh, we’re not having a party today. I had school and Mummy has to go out tonight. We’re going to take all my class out on Saturday. We’re going on a canal boat trip to the zoo and having a picnic. I begged Zahir to come but he said that it’s up to you.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re his driver!’

‘Oh, I see.’

Diana glanced up at the man leaning casually against the door frame. His expression was giving nothing away and yet she had the strongest impression that he was making a point. Reassuring her that she wouldn’t be reduced to the minibus, perhaps?