by Holly Rayner
THREE
Beth
Beth gazed out at the gleaming city below, surrounded by a seemingly endless stretch of desert. She had often wondered how anyone could live this way, in the searing heat. Being from Philadelphia, she loved the cold, and having four distinct seasons. Still, the party scene in the capital of Al-Merindha was definitely an experience, and she had fond memories of the place.
She yawned as her plane touched down, wondering how long it would take for her to adapt to the massive time difference. She pulled out her cell and quickly texted her mom to say that she’d landed. Pocketing her phone, she stretched her aching limbs before grabbing her old camouflage carry-on bag and heading into the airport.
The city was just as she remembered it. The terminal was filled with a mixture of people in long white robes, turbans and black abayas, while others wore T-shirts and jeans. While Western culture was embraced here, no one was wearing shorts or baring their legs, though Beth remembered shorter dresses being acceptable inside the clubs. She was glad for the time she had spent traveling, learning about different cultures. She had known exactly what to pack the moment she’d accepted the offer to come.
As Beth made her way through the terminal, she reached for her phone again and opened up her interview acceptance email, from a man named Adil. It said she would be picked up at the baggage claim area, where a man would hold up a sign for her.
Stepping onto an escalator, she clung to the railing as it transported her the impossibly long distance from her terminal to the baggage claim area. Honestly, everything in this city was at least forty stories too tall.
She waited, tapping her foot impatiently against the step, stretching her neck out to see what was going on at ground level. A sea of people rushed around, crowding the baggage claim belts and grasping at bags as they circled around. A long line of suited men stood in a corner, each of them holding a sign.
Beth strolled over and began scanning for her name. When she found it, her eyes darted up to the man holding the sign, and she nearly gasped.
He was stunning. His brown eyes were dark as chocolate, his hair perfectly set in a way that made him look more like a frat boy than a driver. It was clear that he worked out, from the wide expanse of his shoulders under his suit jacket, and boy, he was tall. Beth always noticed tall men; she was the kind of woman that could rarely wear heels for towering over people.
She nervously brushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear, straightening her plain black T-shirt. Suddenly she wished she’d dressed a little nicer, even though there was no way she’d have survived a sixteen-hour flight in a suit.
The man was staring at her, his gaze intense. When she approached, his eyebrows shot straight up to his perfect hairline.
Beth gave him a shy smile. “Hi,” she said, wondering if all the men in the Sheikh’s employ would be this handsome.
“Hi, can I help you?” he smiled, and Beth picked up an unusual accent; a melodic combination of something European with an Arabic twist.
“Um, yeah. I’m Beth Coolidge,” she said, pointing to his sign.
The man tilted the sign up, then looked back at Beth. “The Beth Coolidge. Like, the one from this sign?”
Beth sighed. She’d been awake for a really long time.
“That would be me,” she said flatly.
“You seem grumpy,” he said, not moving.
This man could be her future coworker. She might even be responsible for his life. Beth tried to put on a better face.
“I’ve been traveling for a really long time,” she said simply.
The man eyed her military bag, then her face. He looked deeply at her, like he was sizing her up, his intense gaze creating unwanted butterflies in Beth’s stomach. A part of her wanted the attention of this handsome man. Looking at him, who wouldn’t? But at the same time, she had a job to do.
Beth frowned. “When you’re done ogling me, can we please get out of here? I’d really like some time to prepare for this interview, and don’t appreciate being looked at like meat at the market.”
The man frowned and moved to take her bag for her. “Apologies, miss. Here, let me take that. Of course you are weary from your journey. The car is just this way, and I’ve had an order placed to have your other luggage sent directly to the house. Your bags should arrive before we do.”
Beth’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can do that?” she said, and the man laughed.
This must be Adil, she thought. He had seemed so different in their email exchanges. Less confident. This man walked with purpose, his posture straight, his shoulders back. Very curious.
He glanced down at her with a grin, and Beth’s heart did a little somersault. Stop it, she chided herself. The fact that she was reacting so strongly to this man was a strong indicator of just how long it had been since her last relationship. Part of her had liked it that way; military romances were rarely romantic, or very enjoyable, in her experience.
“Of course! What world are you living in?” he asked with a twinkle of humor in his eye.
“The real one, I imagine,” she replied.
He slowed his pace and glanced down at her again as they made their way through a sliding glass door and into baking hot heat. The temperature change was abrupt, and brought back vivid memories of all the times she’d served in the region. How strange to be back under such different circumstances.
“And what is life like, in the real world?” he asked.
Beth had to crane her neck to meet his gaze, which was new for her. “Oh I don’t know,” she replied, nodding as he opened her door and gave her time to slide into the refreshingly cool car. It was a black Rolls Royce, the seats made of soft, cream-colored leather.
Adil opened the trunk and put in her bag, before sliding into the driver’s seat. “You were saying?”
“What?” she asked, her gaze on the horizon, a mass of skyscrapers and palm trees.
“About the real world. What it’s really like?” He asked, pulling the car into traffic.
“Oh, right. Well, the real world is a place where people have to actually deal with little annoyances. You know, like waiting for your baggage at the claim, or waiting to hail a cab, or waiting for someone to come pick you up.”
“Sounds like a lot of waiting,” Adil said, pulling onto the highway. “I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Why not? I imagine you have to do a lot of it on behalf of your employer,” she said.
Adil cleared his throat, avoiding the question. “So, tell me about yourself. Who is Beth Coolidge?”
Beth groaned inwardly. She would already have to present her best face to some sheikh in a little while. She tried to remember the last time she’d slept, and couldn’t. She rubbed her eyes, which felt like hot, red sandpaper and leaned back into the seat.
“Well, I’m a veteran of the United States Navy, well-versed in a variety of combat styles. I know my way around a gun. I was honorably discharged a month ago, and now I’m here trying to see if I can find a way to support my mother.”
“Does your mother need a lot of help?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.
Beth gazed out the window for a moment before she spoke. “She won’t admit it, but I think she does. My dad died two years ago, and she’s been on her own ever since. My dad had a good chunk of money put away in life insurance, but it’s not like she hasn’t had bills to pay and things to pay off. I just want to make sure she lives comfortably. I want her to be secure. I want her safe,” Beth breathed. She was so tired that she didn’t much care that she was confiding in a complete stranger.
She thought she heard him mumble, “I understand,” but couldn’t be sure.
“So what do you think you’ll be doing with us, here?” he asked.
Beth felt a surge of annoyance before she stamped it down. The smooth ride of the car was lulling her to sleep, and she needed to stay awake until it got dark so she could adjust to the time difference. Conv
ersation was the best way to do that.
“I think I’m going to be protecting a spoiled little rich boy who thinks he can boss a woman around. Since he’s requested an American, I have to believe he must know that that will not be the case. I’m not some biddable woman; I’m here to protect and serve, and that’s what I’ll do, if I get the job.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise again, and Beth mused that that was the second time she seemed to have shocked him today. Maybe she needed to tone it down a little. She really needed this job.
“So you think a man who would specifically ask for female protection has no respect for women and their abilities?” Adil sounded defensive.
Beth was right—in her fatigued state she had gone too far. Still, she was no stranger to such attitudes. She had watched many men use their power and influence to take advantage of a woman. She had rejected advances from men before finding herself, all of a sudden, without a promotion she was previously sure to get.
“I just want to know what his intentions are. I’m curious about his motive for hiring me, if I’m being honest.”
“You seem nothing if not honest, Miss Coolidge, but I think you’ll see that my employer’s intentions have nothing to do with your gender, or your pretty face. It is strictly business.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she replied, gazing back out the window at the setting desert sun. It was so beautiful, the colors a gorgeous combination of oranges and pinks. She rested her head on the window for a moment, jerking awake a few seconds later. No sleeping. No sleeping.
Looking around the interior of the car for something to distract her from her fatigue, she quickly spotted a magazine tucked into the back pocket of the front passenger seat. Pulling it out, a familiar face mugged back at her, looking like a male model.
Her driver’s face.
“What did you say you name was, again?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
The man glanced back at her in the mirror, then back at the road. They were approaching a golden arched gateway, and he rolled down the window, tapped in a series of numbers on a console, driving through as the gate swung open automatically.
“I didn’t say. Why do you ask?” He was smiling. She could hear it in his voice.
“That’s pretty deceptive of you, trying to fool me like that, Your Highness” Beth said, realizing she’d been fooled into an interview with her would-be employer only moments after her arrival.
Beth’s stomach twisted as she mentally rehashed their conversation. Hadn’t she called him a spoiled rich boy? How had he not turned the car around and tossed her right back on a plane back home?
Just then her gaze was caught by a reflective sparkle, and she gaped in amazement at the vast and expansive mansion that came into view before them.
The driveway led them past a huge, rectangular pool that reflected the shimmering lights from the mansion as dusk fell. He parked the car in front of two massive, polished wood doors, and turned off the engine.
Getting out, he made short business of coming around to her side of the car, opening the door, and holding out his hand for her.
Beth hesitated. Sure, he was extremely attractive, but he’d basically just tricked her into saying things she never would have said had she known the interview was already underway. Her eyes were stinging with exhaustion. Really, what other choice did she have?
She gripped his hand firmly, ignoring the tingling sensation in her fingertips as he helped her from the car, and they stood face to face.
“I am Sheikh Osman Al-Haddeni, heir of this estate and its current owner. I’d like you, Beth Coolidge, to help me keep it safe.”
His gaze was warm, and Beth couldn’t tell if it was the heat or his eyes making her melt. She gave herself a gentle shake, pulling her hand back from his gentle grasp.
“You seriously want to hire me? We haven’t even interviewed!”
“Haven’t we?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow in an infuriatingly handsome way.
“But you don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I’ve done, what types of protective services I’ve engaged in,” Beth huffed. This was not going at all like she had imagined.
“I think I know enough. Up until a few weeks ago, I had a full security outfit—all male—that I had hired to escort me wherever I went. They were competitive with each other and, I believe, threatened by me. I didn’t like the way they looked at me, with barely concealed hatred in their eyes. So, I’m hoping you might have a bit less ego for me to compete with. Your job won’t be too difficult, Miss Coolidge. I’m distant enough from the throne that no one would want me eliminated to get me out of their way. Aside from that, I hardly need protection, as you can see,” he held out his arms, as if to say, in case you haven’t noticed how built I am.
“You’ll basically be a protection prop—a status symbol, to put it bluntly. I’ll keep you around so others know that I have enough money to pay you, and that is all. If you’d like some assurance that you’ll be adequately compensated for this, here is your first paycheck, in advance.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a check. Beth took it, casting a glance down at the amount line. The blood rushed to her head. It was more money than she could make at any job back home in half a year! And that was just one paycheck.
“How often are the payments?” she asked quietly.
The Sheikh smiled. “Weekly, of course.”
Beth felt her face go red. It was too much. If she could stick to this job for even just a year, she thought with a grin, she’d have enough to retire at the same time as her mother. Still, looking up at the Sheikh’s handsome face, she knew she couldn’t accept that quickly.
“Can I have a night to think about it, Your Highness?” she asked, and saw him wince slightly at the use of the formal title. Good. She would use it permanently.
“Of course. You’re exhausted. Please, allow me to escort you to your rooms. I had Adil take care of your baggage, and your other bag will be brought to you shortly.”
“Got it,” she said, smiling. Beth wanted the Sheikh to see that she wasn’t going to be just another one of his servants to order around. To her surprise, he smiled back.
“Yes. You certainly do,” he said, striding toward the massive front door, which was opened from the inside by an unseen member of staff.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if the Sheikh had ever had to open doors for anyone, let alone himself.
Beth was beyond exhausted, but what she saw when she strolled through the door almost made her eyes pop out of her head. It was like entering a museum, except it was someone’s home. The foyer alone was as big as her mom’s three-bedroom home, tastefully decorated with warm colors and paintings that Beth guessed were all originals. She imagined that this must be what Elizabeth Bennett felt like when stepping into Mr. Darcy’s house for the first time, though comparing herself to Lizzy Bennett made the Sheikh Mr. Darcy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about attaching that romantic moniker to him.
As the Sheikh guided her down the ornately-decorated hallway with candlelight fixtures on either side, Beth caught sight of a painting of a naked woman combing her hair, as seen from behind.
The Sheikh followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. I love Carrière. He had such a fascination with the female form, an appreciation really.”
“It’s just a shame that back then women were seen as nothing more than vessels for babies, servants to do chores and otherwise keep silent,” Beth retorted.
“I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, Beth, but I see your point,” he said, stopping at a door on the left.
“Here you are,” he said, opening the door for her.
Beth held tight to her bag, stepping inside and turning to face the Sheikh.
“Thank you, Your Highness, for picking me up, and for the job offer. I’ll let you know my decision in the morning.”
“Very good, Miss Coolidge. I certainly hope it will be a positive
one. I also hope you will forgive me for starting the interview so underhandedly. I’m often treated differently because of my title, you see, so it was important for me to know what you really think.”
“Then why am I still here? I insulted you, didn’t I?” Beth said, unable to keep herself from asking. To her great surprise, the Sheikh laughed.
“It will take a lot more than being called spoiled to insult me, Miss Coolidge. You’ll find my skin is very thick,” he said, reaching unexpectedly for her hand and planting a kiss on it.
Beth pulled her hand back. “Goodnight, Your Highness,” she said, moving to close the door.
“Miss Coolidge?” he asked, before she could get it closed all the way.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Call me Osman,” he said with a grin.
Beth grinned back. “No.”
She closed the door on the Sheikh, smothering a laugh. She’d lost count of how many times she’d manage to raise those stellar eyebrows today, and she imagined it was more times than the women he was used to.
Turning around and looking out at her suite, Beth’s mouth opened of its own accord and hung like a fish. It was like, she could only imagine, being inside Buckingham Palace. She had a sitting area with a fireplace (like that was ever necessary), and a huge bedroom with a canopy bed draped in sheer white netting. Her bedroom opened up to a balcony that overlooked the city.
Dropping her bag, she headed straight to the bathroom, an open space with a showerhead dropped right down through the ceiling. When she turned it on and jumped in, it felt as though she was showering in warm rain.
Donning a pair of shorts and a tank top, she snuggled into her enormous bed. Her last thought before losing consciousness was I could get used to this.
And then she was fast asleep.