The Sheikh's Stolen Lover - A Second Chance Sweet Romance (The Sheikh's New Bride Book 5)

by Holly Rayner

  “You could have stayed with me at the airport,” she suggested.

  Mark looked wounded. “We offered. You didn’t want us to.”

  Was that true? She tried to remember. It all seemed so long ago. “Anyway. I’m back now.”

  “Did you bag the investor?”

  Oh, I bagged him, all right.

  As the meaning of Mark’s words hit her, Ellie felt dread rise from her stomach to her throat; she’d completely forgotten the lie she’d told when Mahmoud had asked her to stay. She’d told her supervisors that one of Al Fahadi’s foremost companies was interested in investing, and now here she was, back a week later with nothing to show for her extended visit.

  Shoot.

  “No,” she admitted. “He decided against it in the end.”

  Mark and Vince exchanged concerned looks.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” Vince said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “It’s just that the boss wanted us to let him know as soon as you got back,” Mark said. “He’s going to want a report.”

  “But I haven’t been back a minute!” she heard the panic in her voice.

  “Listen,” Vince said. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone knows you gave it a hundred and ten at the convention, and we’ll vouch for you.”

  “Absolutely,” Mark chimed in, loyally, and she felt momentarily sorry for all the times she’d resented him. He wasn’t so bad, really. His heart was in the right place.

  “Thanks, you guys,” she sighed. “But it would definitely be better if I had something good to report.”

  “You’re the brains of this operation,” Mark said.

  Vince nodded. “You invented NorMo.”

  “Which is not exactly Noralli’s workhorse, finance-wise.”

  “Okay, no, but it’s a genius app,” Vince said.

  Mark nodded his agreement. “I use it. And my nephew plays the dinosaur game.”

  “Hell,” Vince said. “I play the dinosaur game.”

  “You do? What level is your rex?” Mark asked him.

  “Oh, I’m not raising the tyrannosaurus anymore. I used my points to get a Pteranodon.”

  “That’s the one Caleb wants.”

  Ellie enjoyed hearing their banter. This was exactly what she’d had in mind as she’d been developing NorMo. Taking care of their financial obligations was more than just an obnoxious chore for Mark and Vince now, it was successfully incentivized. Enjoy this moment, she told herself. You might get the whole thing ripped out from under you by the end of the day.

  She should never have agreed to stay with Mahmoud.

  No. This wasn’t about him. Stop thinking about him. Not even the fear of an imminent dismissal from her job was enough to distract her. This was getting out of hand.

  Ellie picked up a notepad from her desk. She always felt more confident going into meetings carrying a notepad—you didn’t need to take notes if you were just there to be reprimanded, and being poised to write things down sent the message that she wasn’t there to be told off. “I’d better go take care of this,” she told the guys.

  “We’ve got your back,” Mark said.

  “Thanks,” she told him, and meant it.

  The Noralli building was, she thought, designed to be intimidating. To get to the CEO’s office, you had to take an elevator to the eleventh and highest floor. It only took one time being summoned to see the boss for every Noralli employee to form an association between the stomach-dropping sensation of riding up in an elevator and trouble. Ellie was displeased to find that her time away had done nothing to quell that feeling. Her anxiety heightened as she ascended, and by the time she stepped out of the elevator onto the tile of the top floor, heels clacking, her hands were shaking.

  The administrative assistant, Liam, saw her coming. “Ellie! I didn’t know you were back.”

  “Just arrived, actually.”

  “Shall I see if Mr. Harris has time for a quick download?”

  “Please.”

  Quick download was Ian Harris’ preferred way to refer to an impromptu meeting. Ellie had never been able to decide whether he was trying to sound high tech with that jargon or not, but it was one of several business catchphrases she found amusing. It was the kind of thing she’d have liked to laugh about with a friend, but all her close friendships had eroded in the years she’d spent climbing the ladder. The closest thing she had now were coworkers, and she would have felt uncomfortable criticizing her boss to her colleagues. You never knew what might get back.

  Mahmoud would have liked it.

  Stop it, Ellie.

  Liam spoke into an intercom, listened, and then turned to Ellie. “You can go in,” he said, his mouth turned in an expression that might have been pity. Ellie was afraid to speculate. She nodded her thanks and pushed open Mr. Harris’ office door.

  Ian Harris was the only executive-level employee at Noralli who didn’t come to work in a suit. Instead, he wore a fitted black sweater and jeans with running shoes. Ellie knew it was only by chance that she’d found him in the office at all—on any given day, he was just as likely to be “working offsite.” She had no idea what he did on those days. Did he really work from home, or did he attend his children’s soccer games? She suspected a mixture of both.

  He gestured to the chair across the desk from his own without diverting his eyes from whatever he was typing. Ellie waited patiently, in no hurry for whatever judgment he would bestow. Finally, he finished up and regarded her.

  Was she supposed to talk first? She held her silence. She could outwait him.

  “So,” Harris said finally. “You’re back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You were meeting with an investor?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that took a week of company time?”

  That was so entirely Harris-like. All time was company time. The week Ellie had been away had represented every waking and sleeping minute she had to give. For a moment she was offended, resentful. Harris didn’t know she hadn’t been working during that time. He should be thanking her for her extra efforts!

  She said none of that. “The potential investor was a member of the royal family,” she said. “Obviously, that would have brought in a lot of money, so I wanted to go the extra mile and work around his very busy schedule.”

  “And were you able to close the deal?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted.

  “So I’m out ten thousand dollars, and you have nothing to show for it.”

  “Ten thousand dollars?”

  “How much do you think it costs to fly to some irrelevant little country in the middle of nowhere?”

  Ellie felt a strange burst of loyalty. “It isn’t irrelevant. It’s beautiful, and the tech scene there rivals our own, even if it’s on a smaller scale.”

  He ignored that. “I understand the rest of your team was equally unsuccessful finding investors at this conference.”

  “There may have been some problems with the culture barrier—”

  “And you don’t have any American investors either, do you?”

  “Sir,” she said desperately, “if I could just show you my app, I think you’ll agree that it’s really—”

  He held up a hand, cutting her off. “I’ve seen your app, Mills. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on in my own company? I review everyone’s work. Your app is functional, but it’s not innovative. It’s user-friendly, but as a concept, it’s boring. Nobody was looking for this. That’s why you don’t have investors, and that’s why you won’t find any.” He sighed. “I thought maybe a pretty face would help.”

  Ellie felt hot and cold at the same time. “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “There are probably plenty of people out there who would buy anything you tried to sell them. You’re a good-looking woman, Mills.”

  “I’m a professional, Mr. Harris!”

  “A professional uses every resource at her disposal. You ought to r
emember that.” He turned back to his computer. “Back to your desk now.”

  She hesitated. “I’m not being fired?”

  “Why would I fire you? I need you working double time. You got us in a ten thousand dollar hole; you’d better start digging us out.”

  “But NorMo…”

  “That’s dead.” He glared at her. “I don’t want to hear any more about that flop. Understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Ellie saw herself out, still shaking.

  Chapter 33

  Mahmoud

  I should go after her.

  She doesn’t want to be followed.

  The contradictory thoughts chased each other around his head, filling every waking hour. He couldn’t concentrate. It seemed like the most important decision he would ever face. If he pursued her and she’d wanted him to let her go, she would be offended, possibly even frightened. He certainly didn't want to do that to her. If, on the other hand, she was hoping to be followed…

  If that’s what she wants, she’s being unfair. What kind of game is she playing?

  But did he really care about that? If it meant a chance to win Ellie back, wouldn’t he go after her in a heartbeat?

  Yes, the answer thrummed in his blood. Yes, yes, yes.

  “Your Highness?”

  He shook himself. He was sitting in a meeting with his budget advisors, and one of them had just proposed a financial plan for the coming year. Mahmoud hadn’t taken in a word of it. More than anything, he wanted to trust that his advisor had made the right decisions. He wanted to sign off on their suggestions and walk out of this meeting so he could continue brooding about Ellie.

  But he also wanted to be a good leader to the people of Al Fahad. And a good leader would ask to hear the plan again.

  He settled for a compromise. “I’m afraid my mind has wandered,” he admitted. “Perhaps we can reconvene after lunch?” He knew they wouldn’t say no. Nobody would dare to say no to him.

  Ellie would.

  Don’t do this to yourself.

  What had he done to make her flee? He had thought their last night together had been perfect, the absolute pinnacle of their time together. In truth, it had been the best night he’d ever spent with anyone. Not just the physical intimacy, but the emotional vulnerability they’d shared. They’d opened up to each other. Mahmoud had never been so close to someone outside his family. How could she possibly have left on the heels of that?

  What was he going to do without her?

  The room emptied. Mahmoud kept his seat. Although he’d been the one to suggest a lunch break, he wasn’t hungry. He would be just as happy to sit here and continue thinking about Ellie.

  Was this how she’d felt when he’d left her, all those years ago?

  It couldn’t be. They hadn’t known each other then, not like they did now. She wouldn’t have felt this agonizing sense of loss, the feeling that something with great potential had been taken away. But the sting of rejection… Yes, he supposed she’d have felt that.

  It was not a pleasant feeling.

  And he’d done it to her.

  It wasn’t my fault, he reminded himself. But how could she help but associate him with that feeling? She’d spent half a decade thinking he’d left her because he’d wanted to. Even knowing the truth, feelings didn’t just evaporate overnight.

  Mahmoud’s feelings for Ellie certainly weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  He sighed and rested his head in his hands. With all the pressures and responsibilities that came along with leading a nation, how was this the thing that was crushing him? This was what he couldn’t manage. Love.

  Did he love her?

  They had spoken of love. It had been the last thing they had said to each other. But then she’d left. So how much could that have meant, really?

  At that thought, Mahmoud was hit with a rush of disappointment that left him staggered. Did he want to be in love with Ellie?

  That would be self-destructive, he chastised himself. It’s best for everyone if you move on from her. You can’t continue to be distracted like this. There are millions of women in the world. Millions of smart, witty, attractive women.

  But there was only one Ellie.

  Chapter 34

  Mahmoud

  Saad called again that night. “You’ve really got to get a direct line,” he told Mahmoud. “I hate having to go through the concierge every time.”

  “He’s a valet. And I have a direct line.”

  “You do? Give me the number.”

  “No. It’s for emergencies.”

  “This is an emergency. I need advice on crafting a proposal.”

  Mahmoud refrained from explaining to Saad what qualified as an emergency for him these days, and why the only people who had his private number were security personnel. That wasn’t why Saad was calling. Besides, if recent events had taught him anything, it was that you couldn’t always control where your priorities lay. If that emergency phone rang, he would probably be hoping that somehow it would be Ellie on the other end.

  He had to stop thinking about her. “What are you proposing?”

  “You know that app we talked about?”

  “The dinosaur one?”

  “The financial one, Mahmoud. I mean, sir. Your Highness.”

  “You have to stop doing that. Mahmoud is fine.”

  “Is this line secure?”

  “Yes.” The truth was, it probably wasn’t. But the only people listening would be Mahmoud’s security detail, and they didn’t care what anybody called him as long as it wasn’t a threat on his life.

  “Fine. Mahmoud, then.”

  It cost Saad something to call him by his name. Mahmoud sensed it. Like the household staff, he was more comfortable obeying protocol. Most of the time, Mahmoud told him it was all right, to go ahead and use his formal title. But he found he couldn’t quite stand it. With his father dead and Ellie gone, there was nobody left in the world who treated Mahmoud like a human being, and that was a very lonely feeling. Saad could handle a little discomfort. “So? What about the app?”

  “We’re making an offer to the company that developed it.”

  “Great. What’s the offer?”

  Saad named a sum. “They’ll be able to expand to the Asian market, which as you know is significant for an American company.”

  “And what do you get in return?”

  “We’re going to ask for marketing oversight.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, we don’t want to overstep.”

  Mahmoud shook his head, even though Saad couldn’t see him. “You can do more than that. Send someone over there. Meet with the developer in person and find out what their vision for the product is.”

  “You think?” Saad sounded doubtful. “Why do we want to do that?”

  “Because then they’ll know you’re on their side. You have to position yourself as the person who’s going to help this company achieve its mission and realize its potential. Then, while you’re there, you can take a look at how they run their operation. They’ll be a lot more receptive to your ideas once they see you as an ally.”

  Saad whistled. “That’s pretty clever.”

  “I think it’ll work.”

  “It’s too bad you don’t work here anymore,” Saad said, sounding truly regretful. “You’re better at this than I am.”

  “I’m probably better at that than I am at being Sheikh, too,” Mahmoud said glumly.

  “Don’t run yourself down. You’re doing a good job.”

  “I don’t know. There’s no way to measure that kind of thing.”

  “People like you.”

  “People are paid to tell me they like me.” It was the kind of thing Ellie would have said.

  “Okay,” Saad agreed. “But they aren’t paid to tell me that. And everyone I know thinks you’re doing well.”

  “Do they really?”

  “Oh, definitely. Your people a
re very happy, Your Highness.” This time, Saad said Mahmoud’s title with good-natured sarcasm. He meant what he was saying.

  Mahmoud was relieved. He loved his country, after all, and loved his people. Yes, he missed his father every day, and he feared he might never get over the loss of Ellie. But he was doing one thing well. There was one thing he could be proud of.

  “Come over,” he said. “I’ll help you work on your proposal.”

  Saad hesitated. “To the palace?”

  “It’s just my house.”

  “Maybe to you. But I didn’t grow up there. For me, growing up, the palace was practically sacred. You don’t just…go to the palace.”

  “I’ll send a car for you. Okay?”

  “This is very strange.”

  “The strange thing is that we’ve never done it. Now, don’t argue with me. I’m your Sheikh. My car will be there for you in ten minutes.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Saad said. Mahmoud could almost hear his smile.

  Chapter 35

  Ellie

  “You’re never going to believe this,” Vince said.

  “What?” Ellie didn’t look up from her email. She had spent the last two days trying desperately to clear her backlogged inbox, a task she’d had plenty of time for since NorMo had been killed. Until she came up with something new to put into development, her only Noralli responsibilities were overseeing Mark and Vince and attending the occasional investor meeting.

  She loathed both tasks. The guys had been restless and distracted since the app had been shelved, and she had to constantly press them to stop goofing off and get back to work brainstorming, though they very fairly pointed out that they couldn’t exactly control when the next big idea would strike. Investor meetings, meanwhile, were painfully dull when she didn’t have her own app to pitch. She knew it was important that she attend as a company representative, but she was beginning to feel like a figurehead, removed from the hands-on work that she’d wanted to be doing when she started out.

  This was how Mahmoud felt.