Authors: Sophia Lynn
Sheikh's Command (14 page)
"I beg your pardon?" she said, slightly bewildered.
"I saw who you came in with, and I saw you whispering to each other at the table," he said, stepping a little closer. "With your ideals, and that clear sense of right and wrong that you had, I'm a little shocked at who you are with."
"Who, Michael?" she asked. She was starting to get an idea of what he was hinting at, and it was ugly.
"Yes, Farnsworth. Does he please you well? I would have thought that if you were someone who would balk at having money spent on you that perhaps you would draw the line at marrying old and rich …"
For a moment, she was so stunned at what he was saying that she couldn't think of a response. Then, when the shock blew away, it left behind it a clear rage that made her smile. "Oh, well, the truth is that I was just unimpressed," she cooed. "I mean, five thousand? I don't get out of bed for that."
Something strange crossed his face then. She couldn't tell whether it was sadness or fury or some strange mix of the two.
"Ah, well, I suppose I was more curious about what it might take to get you into bed, not what it takes to get you out of it …"
"Sorry, that's for my husband to know and you to find out …"
He studied her for a moment, and for the first time, he merely looked baffled instead of contemptuous. "Really, what is it? Why are you together?"
"Well, it could be that I love him no matter what he looks like, but the truth is that he's just great in bed," Berry snapped. For a heartbeat, she had no idea what she had just said, but then it crashed down on her.
Oh my God,
she thought distantly.
I just told the Sheikh of Alamun that I'm a gold digger …
Thankfully, at that point, Farnsworth, who had always said that he had a sense for things going south, hurried over.
"Sheikh Rasul," he said. "I see you've met my assistant."
To her relief, Rasul only raised his eyebrows. She wasn't sure exactly what kind of black mark baiting the head of a country was, but she couldn't really assume that it would be less than getting fired.
"Your … assistant?" he asked.
"Yes. Berry is one of my most trusted agents," he said rather fondly. "Tonight she's acting as my assistant and my escort, but most of the time, she's a bit of a treasure hunter. There is no one I trust more in this part of the world; she has an amazing eye for real art and history."
"Well, what a coincidence," Rasul said smoothly. "You know, I just found this piece in the marketplace, a stunning piece that I think might be two centuries old or more. Do you think there is a chance I could borrow her from you?"
Farnsworth's eyes shone as if someone had lit him up from inside. With a wince, Berry could almost hear the old-fashioned cash registers going off in his head.
"Well, of course! One of the great things that having a truly international shopping center would do is bring along professionals of all kinds and put them right at your disposal."
Berry couldn't stop herself from staring at Rasul, who for his part continued chatting amicably with her boss.
He couldn't be serious, could he? This was ridiculous...
"And of course, Berry would be happy to help you date the piece that you have in mind, as well as any other items you might need her to examine. Isn't that right, Berry?"
Berry couldn't bring herself to agree enthusiastically, especially when she had just gotten caught lying to the Sheikh himself. Instead she nodded with a smile that looked more sick than anything else. The men were happy to keep on chatting, however.
"A woman of such skill and ambition would be a welcome addition to the efforts that we are trying to make currently," he said with a smile. "Thank you so much for your generosity, Mr. Farnsworth, and for you as well, Miss …?"
"Berry is fine," she said weakly. Some part of her still couldn't believe that this was happening. "Um, if you will excuse me, it's a little close in here. I need to step out for a moment."
Without waiting to see if they had acknowledged her, she turned and headed for the bathroom. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, she splashed a bit of cold water on her face, still stunned.
This is not good,
she thought.
I need to find a way to get out of this.
When she met Farnsworth in the cab ride going back to the hotel they were both staying at, however, he was adamant.
"Are you mad, girl?" he snorted. "This is exactly the best thing that could have happened. If you think I am going to change this around for anything short of you actually growing another head out of your neck, you're wrong."
"I just don't think that I'm the best person for this job," she said lamely. "Why not ask Brooke to come in from Brussels, or heck, William's really close, he's just in Dubai."
"Apparently I have not made myself clear," he said sharply. "You were the one at the dinner with me tonight, and you were the one who caught the Sheikh's attention. Because of that, you have a responsibility to your job to see this through. He wanted your expertise, and he is going to get it."
When Berry saw that there was no talking her boss out of it, she sighed, slumping back against the seat.
"Anyway, what's the matter?" Farnsworth asked crossly. "You're getting paid to appraise a few small items that are either going to be inoffensive or outright amazing. You are doing it on the company dime, and you are spending time with the head of the country. Surely your standards are a bit high?"
"You wouldn't understand," she said, and it was true. There was no way that she could explain the mess, first at the souk, and then at the dinner.
At the heart of it, her fast mouth had got her into this, and at the end of it, she hoped that her fast mouth could get her out of it as well.
***
That night in his penthouse apartment, Rasul wondered what the hell he was doing. He stripped to his skin, stretching out on his wide empty bed.
It usually wasn't this empty. There was a time not all that long ago when he would have had a different woman in it every week, gorgeous blondes, sultry redheads, wide-eyed brunettes. Then at some point in the last year, it had all gone dull. Nothing was exciting anymore, and he wondered, more bored than anything else, if it was time to give in and settle down.
Just a few weeks ago, Rasul had started to consider what he might look for in a suitable sheikha, a woman to be both his wife and the lady of his country, as he was the lord. He considered qualities like birth, wealth, biddable temperament, things that would make for a stable and uneventful partnership.
None of those qualities would have led him to the woman that he now knew was called Berry. He would never have thought that he wanted a woman so tall or slender, with hair that picked up points of brown fire and whose clear green eyes could snap with rage.
He couldn't explain it to himself, not really. When he had a free day, Rasul sometimes liked to go down into the souk. It was something his father had done, and his grandfather as well. The men of his dynasty had always kept a close ear on what was going on among their people, and he suspected that this was the tradition that had aided them in that goal.
He had been wandering around, thinking of nothing much, when he heard a spirited bidding war going on. Rasul stopped to casually see what the fuss was about, and he was surprised to see that the woman who was coming out on top was a foreigner. For some reason, when she glanced over at him, he could feel his heart beat faster in his chest, as if something subtle but real had changed his world forever.
That was when he decided that he had to get involved, though afterward, he had realized he might have done so in a rather foolish way.
When he bought the statue for her, he expected her to be pleased. In his experience, women loved gifts, though he had to admit that a camel statue was hardly the most romantic thing in the world. He had vaguely thought that the statue would be a jumping off point, where he could take her to dinner, and then perhaps more if they were both suited.
Of course it hadn't turned out that way. Instead of an assignation with a striking woman, he had ended up sitting on a bench discussing relationships with her. Rasul couldn't remember the last time he had spent so much time with a woman, speaking to her about something so placid.
Before he was even vaguely ready for her to go, she had ducked through the crowd, leaving him holding a camel statue that he had not wanted in the first place. As rejections went, it was a mild one, but he felt a pang at never seeing her again.
He had thought about her every day for the last few weeks, and when he saw her in the crowd, his heart had skipped a beat. Had he finally lost his mind and ended up hallucinating the beautiful foreigner?
Then his eyes took in the expensive dress that seemed to skim her elegant curves, and he took in the silver-haired man that she whispered so insistently to.
Rasul had nearly skipped giving his speech altogether. He wasn't sure that he could go out onto the stage and see such a beautiful woman chained to such an old man. Despite her cutting words, he had admired her independence at the souk, and to see her turn out to be such a hypocrite stung in a way he didn't like.
Rasul had been planning to avoid her when the mingling and dancing started, but something drew him to her like a nail to a magnet. He had told himself that he knew better to go confront a woman who boiled his blood like this one did, but it was inevitable.
At first he had been furious, and then when he found out about her deception, that fury had spiked and then finally faded to confusion. He was a man who was well used to women falling down at his feet. If his looks didn't convince them, oftentimes simply his fame or his wealth would do it. He had never been in a situation where they didn't.
And yet … and yet there was Berry.
She was as gorgeous in a simple dusty dress at the souk as she was in a sparkling cocktail dress, and no matter where she was, she wasn't afraid to let those gorgeous eyes spit fire at anyone who displeased her. That alone would have drawn his attention, but some part of him was becoming convinced that there was more to it than that.
As he drifted off to sleep that night, he found himself dreaming of her lush mouth. Could it curve into a smile as well as it could curve into a sneer? What would she look like when that same mouth had been freshly kissed?
