The Sheik's Rebellious Mistress (8 page)

“Hello?” she said, pouring herself a cup of c offee. It was her friend who worked in a small, private school down the street. She tried not to worry too much about her disappointment that it was her friend and not Dharr. She"d only known the man for twenty four hours and already she was needing to hear his voice? That was silly.

Her friend, unaware of Electra"s topsy -turvy emotions for the past two hours, broke through her depression with a bright, cheerful voice. “I have a proposition for you,” she started off. “Remember the woman who was helping me out as a teacher"s aide?” she asked.

“Sure, the one who was going to have a baby in the next few months?”

“That"s the one. Well, her doctor put her on full bed rest so she"s unable to work right now. The pay is extremely low, but if you want it, the job is yours,” her friend said.

Electra stood with her coffee cup midway to her mouth, frozen in shock. “Are you teasing me?” she asked. A job she wouldn"t need to interview for? A job where the interviewer wouldn"t be intimidated by her body guards? Was her luck finally changing?

Her friend laughed through the phone line at Electra"s surprise. “Not at all. Are you interested?”

“When can I start?” Electra gasped, setting her coffee cup down on the counter and searching out her grandmother"s reassuring features. Her grandmother was sitting at the kitchen table working on the daily crossword puzzle but she obviously knew something good was happening since her face crinkled into a bright, encouraging smile.

“Whenever you"re able. If you don"t have anything planned for today, you could come down and fill out the paperwork,” she suggested hopefully.

Electra glanced at her watch. “I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Great. Wear slacks that you don"t mind getting dirty,” she cautioned.

The next four days were the most amazing in Electra"s memory. She was thrilled with her new job and, thanks to her guardian"s barely touched monthly allowance and her room with her grandmother, she didn"t care too much about the small income.

She helped her friend grade papers, clean up classrooms, tutored kids who were having problems with their homework or their classroom assignments, find additional materials pertinent to the current classroom topics and read stories to the group of twenty five seven year olds. It was crazy at times, horrible during the moments when the children wanted to misbehave but also thrilling and creative and the children were filled with a sense of wonder at everything the teacher discussed. She loved every moment of it.

She was so busy, she didn"t even care that the man hadn"t bothered to call back and apologize for his rude behavior. Or even to give her a chance to apologize for her fiery temper which had prompted her hang up. And she wasn"t upset about any of that. She didn"t miss him in any way, she told herself. And when she dreamed about him at night and their one night together, she just put that up to having experienced superior lovemaking technique. She was bound to feel remnants of their night together since it had been so wonderful.
When school let out on Thursday afternoon and she watched the children leave the classroom, she pushed her sadness away. The fact that the man hadn"t called meant that she"d done the right thing in leaving and definitely in hanging up on him when he was rude.

Friday afternoon, when she sank gratefully into one of the two overstuffed chairs in her grandmother"s small family room, she was exhausted but in an odd way, rejuvenated.

“Good week?” her grandmother asked, a gentle smile on her face as she manipulated thread and needle through fabric to magically transform the fabric into a cross stitch pillow.

Electra laughed. “Thrilling,” she replied, thinking of the man who had started off the week in such a wonderful way. “Every moment of it.”

“What about the man you spent time with on Sunday evening?” she questioned.

Electra blushed and was glad Gerrard was in the kitchen reading a newspaper. “He called but I hung up on him.”

She heard the newspaper rumble and the chair scrape against the tiles a moment before Gerrard"s horrified expression peered into the room. “What did you just say?” he asked.

Electra smiled gently, knowing how Gerrard, the most moody of the three assigned to her, could sometimes take things the wrong way. “I said that the man called but I hung up on him.He was rude and said some awful things to me. Or he would have if I hadn"t stopped him,” she clarified with a frown.

Gerrard"s throat made some odd sounds but Electra didn"t have time to interpret them before he went on.“Did you call back and apologize?” he asked, coming fully into the room and looking down at her from his greater height.

Electra didn"t understand the expression on his face. It wasn"t anger so much as disbelief. Maybe even horror, she thought. “No. Why would I do that? He was rude and demanding.”

Gerrard"s palm slapped against his forehead and he shook his head as he walked back into the kitchen. She heard him talking on his phone a moment later but since it was in Arabic, she had no idea what he was saying.

Turning back to her grandmother, she started to speak but was interrupted by her phone ringing. She walked over to her purse and pulled the phone out, noting that it was another phone number she didn"t recognize. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Ellie,” Dharr"s deep voice said through the airwaves, sending tingles down her body, right to the core of her soul.
She stiffened and looked around, wondering if her discussion of the man had somehow produced the phone call. It was very odd, she thought. She ignored the ripple of excitement that traveled along her nervous system at the sound of his voice and reminded herself about how arrogant and rude he had been. The man just simply didn"t know good manners, she thought. “Good afternoon, Dharr. How are you?” she replied with great formality. No matter how desperately she"d wanted to hear his voice this past week, to tell him about her new job and to just hear his laughter or advice, she couldn"t fall into the trap of discounting how hurt she"d been by his statements that morning and the fact that he hadn"t called her at all during the week.

She heard his soft chuckle but didn"t like the fact that it sent images to her mind of him chuckling at her attempts to undo his buttons that night. His next words erased all images, all thoughts, leaving her shaking and confused. “Fine. But I"d be better if you"d meet me in Paris for the weekend.”

Electra gasped. An entire weekend wit h the man? Was it possible? “Paris?” she asked and looked across the roomat her grandmother. She saw the elderly woman"s eyes light up and her head bobbed in an enthusiastic agreement. “Go,” she whispered encouragingly, her needlework forgotten in the excitement of the moment.

She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Yes, the city across the channel from London? Perhaps you"ve heard of it,” he teased.

Electra smiled. Boy the man had charm to spare!“Yes. I"ve heard of it vaguely. But why would I want to spend the weekend in some boring old city? I mean, what"s the draw?” she asked, leaning back in her chair and smiling delightedly. How she found the nerve to tease him back, she had no idea. All thoughts of making the man apologize were forgotten as soon as she"d heard his charming, teasing tone.

The ripple of laughter made her feel all warm and yummy inside. “Perhaps there is a lure I can provide.”

Electra liked the sound of that. “Perhaps,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about if I show you when you get here? Give me your address and I"ll send a car to pick you up. Don"t forget your passport,” he warned.

Electra bit her lip. “Hmmm…how about if I meet you there?” she suggested, knowing she"d have to purchase several tickets for her guards. There would be no way they"d let her get on an international flight with out them tagging along. Good grief, she couldn"t even go to the grocery store without them in the background.

“What"s your address?” he countered firmly. She sighed, but was still unwilling to tell him all. “Dharr, I would love to meet you but I"m not sure what time I"ll be able to get away,” she lied. “I got a job this week and I still have some research to do for one of my classes plus I need to pull materials together for the following week"s crafts. The flights to Paris are only two hours, aren"t they? So I"ll call you when I land. Will that work for you?”

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “You"ll need to quit your job immediately. I"ll take care of you. Tell me your address.” His tone didn"t seem like he would be swayed by any argument she had.

Shaking her head, even though he couldn"t see her through the phone. “No. I"m not going to quit my job since I just started it four days ago. And I"m not going to give you my address but I"ll be happy to meet you in Paris in a few hours. Will you be at this phone number?” she asked.

There was a long moment of silence and she held her breath, hoping he wouldn"t ask more questions or demand an explanation. Or more horribly, call off the weekend. She wanted desperately to see him, but not at the expense of her pride and her newfound independence, no matter how small it was.

Finally, he said, “Fine. Call this number and a car will arrive at the airport to pick you up. But Ellie, we"ll have a conversation when you arrive about how this relationship is going to move forward.” Without another word, the phone went dead.

Electra considered calling him back and telling him that she wouldn"t come if he was going to dictate to her but she realized that she"d missed him terribly over the past four days. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her and experience his magic touch once more. And she felt strong enough to handle whatever demands he threw at her.

Her grandmother laughed softly from her seat by the window, her cross stitch laying across her flowered dress in her lap.“I can see from the look in your eyes that you"re angry with the man for whatever he just said, but don"t let that get in the way of seeing him this weekend. Go pack your bags and, while you"re at it, come up with a way to talk to him and work out your differences.I"ve told you over and over again that your temper is going to destroy you, dear. Don"t let it destroy a little sliver of happiness now. Leave that temper simmering until you"re old like me. Anger makes a poor bed-fellow. And even worse memories,” she chided.

Electra"s hand dropped to her side and she stared at her elderly grandmother. “Aren"t you shocked that I"ll be spending the weekend with a man?” she asked tentatively.

Edna shook her head and waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Oh, pish,” she said. “It"s about time you had a little romance in your life. Besides, I"d like a few grandchildren so if you don"t hurry up and find a man to help you with that then it will be too late.”
Electra smiled and shook her head. Bending down to kiss her weathered cheek, she said, “Grandmother, you continue to astonish me,” she said.

Her grandmother laughed softly. “Well, you just figure out a way to astonish me and learn to keep that temper of yours under control,” she warned. “I saw the flare of anger in your eyes during that brief phone conversation and it won"t help me get my grandbabies,” she warned teasingly.

Electra could only laugh in agreement as she skipped up the stairs. “Gerrard, I"m going to call the airlines to reserve four seats on a plane to Paris. Pack your bag!” she called from the top of the stairway.

She immediately picked up the phone and, within ten minutes, had all four of them booked on a first class plane to Paris in three hours. She called Dharr and left him a voice mail on her arrival time then happily packed a small suitcase filled with her prettiest clothes, singing under her breath as she packed and anticipated being in Dharr"s arms once again.

Later that evening, she walked down the gangway of the Paris airport. She looked around but didn"t see Dharr anywhere but she recognized one of his aides who immediately walked up to her and bowed. “Good evening,” he said. “I"m to take you to the Paris apartment. Did you check your other bags?” he asked.

Electra shook her head. “No, this is all I have,” she said, indicating the small carry-on luggage trailing behind her on wheels. She had no idea how much luggage the man expected her to bring for two days.

The man looked confused but nodded politely. “This way,” he said and walked forward, guiding her through the busy airport.

She didn"t concern herself with Micha and the other guards. Let them follow her as best she could. She wasn"t going to let them hinder her in any way.

As she walked out of the airport into the heavily congested front gate, she immediately saw the limousine waiting out front with almost identical large, massively built guards as the three behind her. She thought it odd but knew that Dharr was extremely wealthy and probably had kidnapping concerns. Ducking into the back, she felt grateful for the relative quiet of the plush environment.

They were pulling up outside an ornate building in the heart of Paris and Electra was almost bouncing with the excitement of seeing Dharr once again. As soon as the car pulled up beside the curb, she jumped out of the car, not bothering to wait for the chauffer to come around and open the door. She walked through the lobby, smiling brightly at the doorman, Dharr"s assistant right behind her.
“Here is the key for your apartment,” he said, handing her a large, old-fashioned key. “I"ll show you around the rooms,” he said and walked in ahead of her. “The kitchen is through there,” he said, pointing to a double set of doors. He continued to walk through the beautifully decorated apartment, giving her the name of the housekeeper and the cook who could be called upon to make more elaborate meals if she desired to entertain more lavishly than the cook"s normal fare.

When he led her to down the hall to what was obviously the bedrooms, she stopped him. “I think I can find my way through the rest of the place. Where is Dharr?” she asked.

The man stiffened slightly before he replied, “He should be arriving any moment now, madam,” he said and backed quietly out of the apartment.

Electra looked around, stunned to see that this was not a hotel but an actual apartment complete with every conceivable luxury. She wandered into the bedroom and opened closets, finding some of Dharr"s clothes in one but the other was filled with women"s clothing, still in the plastic coverings with tags on. There were more clothes than a man could need in a single weekend and she assumed that this must be his own apartment for when he was in Paris. It was about a quarter of the size of his London flat but perhaps he didn"t stay here very often.