Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

by Barbara McMahon

  She had no idea of how long he expected this charade to last. So any investigations for her father needed to be done swiftly in case her visit was cut radically short. The sheikh had canceled her reservations at the hotel. She wondered if she should make new ones, just in case.

  After she’d changed and freshened up, Bethanne headed back down the way she’d come. The villa wasn’t as large as she first thought. Probably only eight bedroom suites. She almost laughed at the thought. Her tiny apartment in Galveston would squeeze into her assigned bedroom here.

  She didn’t see a soul as she went back to the front door and let herself out. The limo was gone. The lawn stretched out to a tall flowering hedge of oleander, sheltering the house from any view from the street.

  Following the lower veranda to the path she’d seen, Bethanne walked through the garden and out to the beach. There were several chairs and tables on the white sand near the edge of the garden. She could sit and relax after her walk.

  In the distance she saw a large container ship slowly moving through the Gulf. Happily Bethanne walked to the water’s edge, kicked off her shoes and started walking north. Her mind was already formulating where she could begin with her inquiries. When she returned to the villa, she’d summons the maid to begin with her. Had her father ever visited the house? Maybe the staff would remember him. She wanted answers and didn’t plan to leave Quishari until she had them. Neither the difficulty of the task nor language barrier would stop her!

  “What’s got you upset?” Khalid asked from his position lounging on one of the chairs in Rashid’s office at Bashiri Oil. The corner office had a splendid view of Alkaahdar and the Gulf. On the highest floor of the building, it rose above most other buildings in the capital city and gave an unimpeded view.

  Rashid paced to the tall window and glared at the cityscape, annoyed afresh that his brother had picked up on his irritation. It was not new. Twins had an uncanny intuition concerning each other. Rashid could recognize his brother’s moods in a second. Of course Khalid could recognize his.

  He knew he had to contact Haile’s father. The longer he delayed, the more awkward it would become. Did the man know yet his daughter had run off? Had he known about the other man all along and still expected Haile to consider marriage to him?

  He turned from the window and met his brother’s eyes. Khalid had the knack of instant relaxation. And then instant action when called for. He was slouched on one of the visitor chairs. Rashid noted his brother was wearing a suit again, instead of the more traditional robes. A concession to being in the city. First chance he had, Rashid knew his brother would head for the interior or the derricks along the coast to the south. Khalid was not one for society or social niceties.

  For a second he debated trying the charade on his twin. But it would not take long for Khalid to figure things out. Besides, they had never lied to each other.

  “It appears the glowing bride-to-be is glowing for someone else.”

  “Huh?” Khalid sat up at that. “What do you mean?”

  “She never arrived.”

  “I heard she did and that she’s blonde and tall and you whisked her away to keep her from the prying eyes of everyone.”

  “The rumor mill is even faster than I knew. That’s the idea. Haile never arrived. I want to finalize the deal with al Benqura before letting the world know I’ve been stood up. You know what the minister would say if he found out. This deal’s too important to me to let some flighty woman screw it up.” Briefly Rashid outlined the situation.

  “What does al Benqura say to his daughter’s no-show?” Khalid asked.

  “I’m not sure he knows.”

  “And the blonde you escorted from the plane?”

  “I hope a substitute until the deal is done.”

  “Where did you conjure her up?”

  “Turns out she’s the pilot delivering my new plane—that was supposed to bring Haile. She thought Haile was on board and was as surprised as I was to discover she was not.”

  “Ah, yes, the new jet you’re buying. The pilot is a woman? That’s odd.”

  “Or providence in this situation.”

  “And she agreed to this charade? What am I saying, of course she did. How much for her silence?”

  Rashid shrugged. “So far no monetary demands. But a twist I never expected. She’s Hank Pendarvis’s daughter.”

  “What?” Khalid sat up at that. “You’re kidding. I didn’t even know he had a family.”

  “And she’s looking for her father.”

  Khalid sat up in his chair. “He took that jet some years ago.”

  “And disappeared. Apparently starting life anew, he cut all ties with his past. She wants to know what happened. As do we all.”

  Khalid shrugged. “Don’t get in too deep,” he warned. “I wouldn’t trust her, if I were you.” He shifted slightly and tilted his head in a manner that reminded Rashid of his own mannerisms when confronted by questionable behavior. “Are you sure she won’t give away the scheme at the first chance? European tabloids would love such a story. And she has nothing to lose and lots of money to gain.”

  “So far she seems more interested in searching for her father than acquiring anything. But I will keep in mind her relationship to Hank.”

  Rashid glanced back out the window, but he knew he wasn’t fooling his twin. That Bethanne would refuse to cooperate was a true risk. One he was willing to take to insure the finalization of the deal he had been working on for months. He needed the support of the ministry to finalize the deal of such magnitude. Otherwise he wouldn’t care two figs about the minister’s position.

  He was not going to tell his brother how he had grown to regret agreeing to an engagement that had been so strongly encouraged between his mother and al Benqura. Haile had the perfect background to be his wife. And after his aborted attempt to marry the woman of his choice when he was twenty-two, Haile seemed more than suitable.

  He also was not going to mention the flash of desire that had surprised him when he met Bethanne. She was so different from the women he knew. If asked for a type, he would have said he preferred petite and dark, with brown eyes and a lush figure. Bethanne didn’t meet a single criterion. She was tall, blonde, blue eyes and almost as slender as a boy.

  But that didn’t stop his interest. Which hadn’t waned even when learning she was Hank’s daughter. There could be nothing between them. Not once the relationship was made known. In the meantime, he hoped they could carry on until the oil deal was signed.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Khalid said. “I’m off to the south for a few days. I want to check out the pipeline from the number four oil rig. There’s a leak somewhere and so far no one’s found it. If it catches fire, there’ll be hell to pay.” Khalid rose. “Maybe I should take the new jet and vet it for you.”

  “It’s my new toy. Get one of your own.”

  Khalid’s sarcastic snort of laughter conveyed his amusement. “Don’t need one. I use the company’s,” he said, referring to the fleet of small aircraft the oil company owned.

  “You don’t have to have hands-on surveillance of the rigs,” Rashid said. “And if there is a fire, let someone else deal with it.”

  “Hey, that’s my job.”

  He and Khalid had this conversation a dozen times a month. He glanced at his brother, his gaze focused briefly on the disfiguring swath of scar tissue running from his right cheek down his neck to disappear beneath his shirt collar. The oil fire that had caused the damage had eventually been extinguished—by Khalid himself. The devastation hadn’t stopped him from turning his back on office work and continuing in the oil fields. His elite company of oil firefighters was in high demand whenever an oil fire broke out.

  Both of them had inherited wealth when their father had died. Both had a strong sense of obligation to the family oil business. Rashid preferred to hire competent help for routine tasks. He loved dealing in the world markets. But his twin had always found the drilling site
s fascinating. Not to mention finding the conflagrations that could ruin a site a challenge to extinguish. Khalid drove their mother crazy with concern.

  The phone rang.

  “Did she arrive?” His mother’s voice sounded in his ear.

  Khalid gave a mock bow and left his brother to the phone call.

  “My guest arrived and is staying at Grandmother’s villa,” Rashid said. Another front to deal with. His mother had been instrumental in the arrangement of the alliance with Haile. She herself had had an arranged marriage and she wanted her sons to follow the old ways.

  “I can’t wait to meet her. I know you were hesitant about this arrangement, but it’ll work out for the best for all. Plan to bring her to dinner tonight.”

  “Ah, I believe you misunderstood me, Mother,” he said. The charade started now. “Haile had other plans. My guest is Bethanne Sanders. Someone I know from Starcraft.” When concocting a magnificent lie, it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  “What do you mean?” He heard the bewilderment in her tone.

  “I will be happy to bring Bethanne to meet you tomorrow. For tonight, we wish to be together. She’s had a long flight and is tired.”

  “But Haile? What of her?”

  “I’ll explain when we meet,” he said.

  “Rashid, don’t be impetuous.”

  He almost laughed. It had been years since he’d been impetuous. His brief aborted love for Marguerite when he’d been younger had ended that streak. Now he kept careful control of his emotions and actions. “Rest assured, Mother, I do not plan to repeat the past.”

  When the call ended, he reached for the folder on the new jet. He needed to know more about the woman he had ensconced at the villa and quickly. His assistant had approved the requests for visas for both pilots. He took the photograph of Bethanne and stepped closer to the window, his curiosity raised. Blond hair, blue eyes, tall for a woman. A standard passport photo, yet the playfulness lurking in the depths of her blue eyes contrasted with the severe hairstyle, pulled back probably into a ponytail. He’d seen the anger flash in her eyes on the plane. And the shrewd bargaining to help find her father. Was Khalid right, she would be looking for some way to gain money or prestige from the charade?

  She didn’t look very old. Yet he knew she had to be experienced. Starcraft was an established firm that didn’t take chances with the multimillion-dollar aircrafts it built.

  How novel to have a woman pilot. Had that fact made the rumor mill yet? He put the photo back, wondering what the financial minister was making of the situation. Rashid had to make sure he did not learn the true circumstances until the deal was consummated. Or even then, if he could help it.

  For a moment he remembered their meeting on the plane. She had caught his attention instantly. She was far different from anyone he knew. Wasn’t it his luck she was off-limits because of her father. He would love to explore the attraction he felt when he first saw her standing proudly at the top of the stairs. But as the daughter of a thief, he could not let himself enjoy their relationship. He needed to be on guard for any nefarious activity on her part. The apple never fell far from the tree. Was she also not to be trusted?

  Hank had worked for his father for many years when he stole the latest jet in their fleet. What had caused his actions? They’d probably never know unless they found him. But he’d watch his daughter. Their family would not be caught unawares a second time.

  He was in a tight spot—balancing the minister on one hand, his mother’s interest on another, and needing to keep his guest visible enough to satisfy curiosity, and secluded enough to insure she could not threaten the situation.

  In addition, he was now committed to delving into the old business of the theft of their plane. Three years ago, when his father died, Rashid had stepped into his place at the oil company. Khalid had worked on locating Hank and the plane—with no tangible results. They’d accepted the loss and moved on. Would they have any more success now?

  CHAPTER TWO

  BETHANNE wondered how much of the beach she was walking on belonged to the sheikh. She had not seen any sign of other people as she walked, and she estimated she’d gone almost a mile. The water was warm on her feet. The sand swished around her toes as the spent waves swirled around them. She wished she’d worn a hat or something; the sun was burning hot on her head. She was reluctant to return, however. The walk was soothing and just touching the ground where her father might have once stood gave her a connected feeling that had been missing a long time. She could imagine she’d run into him and they’d both express surprise and immediately begin talking and catching up. Then she’d realize he’d been extremely busy and had not died alone and unlamented somewhere unknown, but had simply let time slip by. He had never done so before, but Bethanne clung to hope.

  Finally she turned to retrace her steps. Glad she’d left her shoes above the tide line as an indicator of where to return, she studied the lush vegetation that bordered the beach. The villa was almost invisible from the shore. When she caught a glimpse of it, she also saw someone sitting in one of the chairs near the path.

  Her heart rate increased as she walked closer. Even before she could recognize him, she knew it was Sheikh Rashid al Harum. Rashid. She said the name softly. He rose as she approached, watching her. Conscious of her windblown hair, sandy feet, khaki pants rolled up to her knees, she knew she must appear a sight. Why couldn’t she have brought a dress that would look feminine and sexy? No, she had to be practical. What would he think?

  “Did you enjoy your walk?” he asked.

  She nodded, leaning over to roll down her pants and dust the sand off first one foot and then the other. Slipping on her shoes, she wished she had worn sandals. Glancing at her watch, she saw she’d been gone longer than she realized. It was approaching the dinner hour.

  “It’s quite lovely,” she said, standing again. “I’d like to go swimming while I’m here.”

  “My brother and I enjoyed the beach when we were children. The villa used to belong to my grandmother. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone swimming here.”

  End of conversation. She cast around for something else to say. But the topic she wanted to discuss was, of course, the charade he’d insisted upon. So—

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” she said.

  “Because?”

  “I’ve had time to think about it. No one’s going to believe you have fallen for some jet jockey from America. First of all, where would we have met? Then, let’s face it, I’m no femme fatale.”

  His gaze skimmed over her. Bethanne felt her blood heat. She wished she could read minds. What did he think when he looked at her? When he again met her eyes, he smiled.

  Bethanne’s heart flipped over. The way his eyes crinkled with that smile had her fascinated. It changed his entire demeanor. He was the best-looking man she’d ever met. He had to know the effect he had on women. On her.

  Flustered, she tried to appear unaffected, but suspected the color rising in her cheeks gave her away.

  “You look like you could be most intriguing, with the right clothing.”

  “And that’s another thing. I would not have come to visit bringing only uniforms and casual clothes! I expected to be searching for my father, not going anywhere where I needed to look like I could attract a sheikh.”

  He laughed. “Even in your casual clothes, people would know why you would attract a sheikh. But clothing is easily remedied. In fact, I took the liberty of having some dresses sent to your room. Please accept as a token of my appreciation for your help.”

  “Help? You practically kidnapped me.” What had he meant by people would know why you would attract a sheikh? Did he like the way she looked?

  “Hardly that. You agreed to help in exchange for my resuming the search for your father. I don’t think we’ll turn up anything at this late date, but I will make some inquiries.”

  Bethanne considered the terms. She was not going to stop b
elieving in her father just on the sheikh’s say-so. She knew her father would never betray anyone. Still, any help would be appreciated. “Okay, it’s your party. If you think we can fool people, good luck.”

  “You underestimate yourself. No one will ever doubt that I could be interested.”

  “Nicely said. Maybe there is a ghost of a chance,” she said. Her heart rate increased with his compliment. And the look in his eyes. Definite interest.

  “Dinner will be served at seven. Perhaps you would join me on the veranda then?” he asked.

  “Thank you, I should be delighted.” She nodded regally and swept by, wishing she wore a lovely dress and didn’t have sand chafing her feet.

  Bethanne gazed at the closet full of clothes five minutes later. Rashid’s last words echoed in her mind. No one could doubt he could be interested if she wore some of these dresses. How had he arranged to have so many different ones delivered in the few hours since he deposited her at the villa?

  Duh, money can accomplish anything, she thought as she fingered the light silks and linens. She pulled out a blue dress that matched her eyes.

  Pampering herself with a luxurious bath and then paying careful attention to her hair and makeup, Bethanne felt a bit like she’d imagine Cinderella felt dressing for the ball.

  Fatima had knocked on the door as she was slipping on the dress. She smiled and nodded, saying something in Arabic that Bethanne didn’t understand. But the universal signs of approval were obvious. What had the sheikh told this woman about their charade?

  The blue of the dress did indeed enhance the color of her eyes. During her walk the sun had tinted her skin with a light tan and the constant hint of excitement at the thought of dining with a sheikh had her on tenterhooks and brought additional color to her cheeks.