by Sophia Lynn
If she were honest with herself, part of the reason she was so on edge was because she’d expected Zayid to pop in yesterday, but he hadn’t. She hadn’t heard a single peep from him, not even a phone call or text message. And it was already midafternoon today and he hadn’t made an appearance. Had he changed his mind about trying to pursue her? Maybe she’d been more effective with her attempts to spurn him than she’d realized. He’d seemed so confident and cocky when he’d strolled out of the lab with his promise to come back that it hadn’t occurred to her that he would change his mind. And it made her worry, because she knew that if he didn’t come back soon her boss would wonder why, and she might blame Madeline if they lost the potential funding Aisha was hoping to secure from him.
What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’re going to get fired if you lose Zayid’s support. They need you, which is why they hired you, and the project is short term, anyway, since it’s almost wrapped up.
Still, she’d seen how excited Aisha was at the prospect of gaining funds from a member of the royal family, and she didn’t want to disappoint her. Madeline had only been here a couple of days, but she already really liked her boss and coworkers. She didn’t want to let them down.
Please, please call me, Zayid.
Another hour rolled by, and then two, and finally Madeline decided to stop holding her breath. It was nearly time for her to clean up the lab, log her daily report, and lock up. Zayid wasn’t coming. She’d driven him away, and she was going to have to deal with the consequences of that.
Just as she was drying a pair of beakers, her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her lab coat. Hurriedly, she yanked it out of her pocket. Her heart leapt in her throat at the sight of the unfamiliar Dubai number scrolling across her screen.
“Hello?” she answered, setting a beaker down.
“Hello, Madeline.” Zayid’s smooth, exotic accent sent a ripple through her. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Why the phone call?” Madeline tried to sound suspicious instead of relieved. She didn’t want Zayid to think she’d been hoping for his phone call. “I figured you’d just come by the lab again if you wanted something.”
“Yes, well, about that. I called because I wanted to apologize.”
Madeline’s mouth popped open. “Huh?”
“If you’re not busy working at the lab, I’d like to take you out to dinner to apologize and explain my motives a little more clearly. I hope you’ll accept.”
Madeline frowned. Explain his motives? She’d thought they’d been pretty clear, but maybe there’d been something she was missing. “I suppose so. Where did you plan on meeting?”
“There is an Italian place a few blocks away from where you work. They make excellent ziti. Does that work for you? In thirty minutes?”
Madeline’s lips twitched at the idea of eating baked ziti with an Arab royal in Dubai. “It does.”
***
Madeline couldn’t remember the last time she’d cleaned up the lab so fast. She flew through her end-of-the-day rituals, tapping out her report at the speed of light, wiping down counters and putting specimens and solutions away. Kirin had overheard she was meeting someone for dinner, and she subjected Madeline to some friendly teasing but helped her get everything done.
“Good luck with your date!” she called as Madeline walked out the door.
“Thanks!” Madeline decided not to mention that it wasn’t a date—that would only raise more questions. Sighing, she looked down at her clothing and smoothed some wrinkles from her blouse. She’d chosen a sapphire-blue top with short sleeves, black slacks, and low heels, looking far more like she were ready to go out to a business meeting. Which suited her just fine, because in essence that’s what this was—a business meeting.
Madeline said good evening to the night guard as she left the building, then pulled out her phone to look up the address that Zayid had texted her. It was only a five-minute walk, so she chose to skip taking a cab and hoofed it instead. As she walked up the street, the scents of exotic spices wafted through the air, coming from local ethnic restaurants, and people of all ethnicities traveled up and down the sidewalks. The bicycle lanes were well used, and there was plenty of vehicle traffic toward the end of the day, though nothing like rush hour in Manhattan. People smiled and nodded as they passed, and as she returned the gestures, a pleasant warmth spread through her. The people here were quite friendly. It didn’t seem to matter to any of them that she had light skin or didn’t wear a hijab; they treated her just like a normal human being.
The Italian place was a cozy but tastefully designed red brick building located at the next street corner. The picture windows allowed her to see the square tables inside, with their checkered cloths and the candles that sat atop them. As she walked in, her eyes roamed over the dark wood paneling and the colorful red carpet that cushioned her footfalls, eventually coming to rest on the host, a balding man with a mustache dressed in a suit and bow tie who stood behind a type of podium.
“Good evening!” he cried in true Italian fashion, though his dark skin and Arabian accent marked him as anything but. “Welcome to Ameci’s. Table for two?”
“Actually I’m meeting someone.” She hesitated for a moment, wondering if Zayid was here yet. “Zayid Tuma.”
“Oh!” The host stood up a little straighter as his eyes widened. “Yes, Miss Anthony. He told me to be on the lookout for you. Please, come right this way.”
The host turned smartly on his heel, and Madeline followed after him, feeling a little nervous for some reason. She wasn’t really sure why. After all, Zayid had asked her to meet because he wanted to apologize to her, not the other way around. But still, she couldn’t help the anxiety jumping in her veins.
As she caught sight of Zayid, sitting at a table by one of the windows, the anxiety turned into something more, and she thought she realized why she was so jumpy. It was the idea of being alone with him again. True, they were in a public place, and this meeting was supposed to be platonic. But he gave off a kind of energy that she couldn’t quite explain—it drew her to him, and she knew that without Adir and Vanessa here it was going to be difficult to ignore it.
“Madeline.” Zayid’s full lips stretched into a broad smile that made her stomach flip-flop. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He stood to greet her.
“Yeah, well, I always was a sucker for lasagna,” Madeline joked, trying to alleviate some of the tension within her. Zayid didn’t look even remotely stressed as he approached her. His broad shoulders were relaxed, and his silver eyes sparkled as he took her in.
“You look very nice,” he told her as he pulled out her chair for her to sit.
“Thank you, but I’m just dressed for work.” He leaned forward a little to push her chair in, and Madeline caught a whiff of his spicy-sweet aftershave. It sent tingles through her, and she curled her fists in her lap beneath the table to keep herself from leaning back to get a deeper sniff. She’d had her fill of him already, and she wasn’t planning on taking anymore, not if she knew what was good for her.
“Perhaps, but you have great fashion sense nevertheless,” Zayid said simply as he returned to his seat.
Madeline felt warmth spread across her cheeks, and she glanced away, hoping Zayid wouldn’t notice. What the hell was wrong with her? Zayid was hot, but he was a playboy, and she wasn’t about to get involved with someone like him.
“Would you like anything to drink, miss?” a waiter appeared at the table, a young blond with dark eyes and a British accent. “Some water perhaps, or tea? Or are you ready to order?”
“I think she’d like a few minutes since she just got here,” Zayid said. “But probably you would like something to drink, no?” he asked Madeline.
“Actually, I’m fine with ordering now,” Madeline said. She wanted to get this dinner over with as quickly as possible. “Can I get an order of lasagna and some iced tea?”
“Of course.” The waiter
’s eyebrows winged up, but he didn’t say anything about Madeline contradicting Zayid, a royal. “And for you, Your Highness?”
“I’ll take the tortellini.”
They handed the menus back to the waiter, forcing Madeline to tuck her hands into her lap once more so that Zayid wouldn’t see her fidgeting. “So, what is it that you wanted to say to me?”
Zayid’s lips quirked up. “Right down to business, eh?”
Madeline gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m curious,” she deflected.
“Very well.” Zayid sighed. “I wanted to apologize for encroaching on your work area and making you feel uncomfortable yesterday. I realize that I don’t know much about you despite our…closeness the other day, and it was wrong of me to assume that you would receive me well.”
“Well, thank you.” Madeline was a little surprised at the sincerity in Zayid’s voice. Despite his roguish charm, he was very well mannered and certainly not like any player she’d ever met before. “I’ll admit I might’ve been ruder than warranted. Especially considering your status.”
Zayid frowned. “I don’t want my status to be a factor between us, Madeline.” He began to reach across the table, as if he wanted to grab her hand, but he pulled back. Madeline wasn’t sure if that was because he’d changed his mind, or because her hands weren’t in view. “When I make friends with someone I want them to appreciate me for my merits, not my title.”
Madeline’s eyebrows drew up. “Friends?”
Zayid shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not attracted to you, Madeline, but if you aren’t ready for more than that I don’t see any reason why we have to avoid each other. We’re practically family as it is, and I really am interested in your work.”
“Why?” Madeline wanted to know. “Not about the family part, I get that, but why are you so interested in the IVF project I’m working on?”
Zayid’s expression turned serious as he reached into the inside jacket pocket of his suit—navy blue today—and pulled out his wallet. From within it, he withdrew a small photograph. “This is my sister, Azura.”
Madeline took the photograph and drew in a breath as she stared down at a stunning, dark-haired woman with large eyes and a demure smile. She was dressed in an abaya, and wearing very tasteful makeup that highlighted her gorgeous cheekbones, long eyelashes, and full lips that were very similar to Zayid’s.
“She’s beautiful,” she said, handing back the photograph.
“Thank you.” Zayid’s smile lit his eyes for a moment, but the glow faded again. “She’s married to the sheikh of Qatar, and has been for over two years now. But they are childless.”
“Oh.” Madeline’s heart sank at the news. “That must be difficult, especially if she’s expected to produce heirs.”
“Extremely so.” Zayid tucked the photo away. “Kadar, her husband, is a good man, but her inability to produce children has strained their marriage, and not without reason. He needs a wife to produce children for him, and my sister’s inability to conceive has been destroying her confidence. She’s tried IVF twice now with no success, neither of the embryos taking, and the injections were very difficult for her to bear. The last one ended in a miscarriage, and the heartache was so great that she begged Kadar for a reprieve, which he granted.”
“But that won’t last forever,” Madeline murmured when Zayid paused.
“No, it won’t. She’ll have to start trying again soon. In our culture, it is not necessarily the end of the world if she doesn’t conceive, because Kadar will just take another wife, one who is more fertile. But Azura will be devastated if that happens, because she will constantly be forced to live in the shadow of another woman’s success, one that will remind her of her failure. I don’t want that kind of future for her, and the procedure you are working on looks like it could provide an answer for her. So I’d like to support it however possible.”
Madeline was floored. “I had no idea you had such a personal interest,” she said, lifting her hands from beneath the tablecloth to reach for Zayid’s own. She couldn’t help but give him a sympathetic squeeze, and when he squeezed her hand back her stomach fluttered. “If I had known I would have been a lot more understanding about your visit to the laboratory.”
“Yes, but you didn’t know, and when I’d come I wasn’t really thinking about the importance of your work so much as my desire to see you again.” Zayid withdrew his hand, but he kept his gaze on her. “When I realized the importance of your project, I also realized that it could be the answer to my sister’s prayers. Perhaps you were sent to me by Allah, and His will is for me to watch over you and assist you in any way I can.”
Madeline laughed. “Perhaps,” she said, a little uncomfortable with the idea—she wasn’t very religious. But she wasn’t about to invalidate Zayid for his beliefs, nor for the hope she’d sprung in him that she would be able to help his sister. “Well I will make sure to work even more diligently then, Zayid. I would absolutely like to help your sister, as well as all the other women out there who are struggling with conception. And if you want to help as well, I definitely don’t see any reason to stop you.”
“Excellent.” He beamed at her, and it was like the clouds had parted from above and a shaft of sunlight had spilled onto her face, warming her from the inside out. Her heart beat a little faster, and her lips parted as she was suddenly swept up in the moment. She didn’t know what was happening, and it made her a little afraid. Why did he have this effect on her?
“Lasagna for the lady, and tortellini for His Highness,” the waiter announced, appearing at their table and blessedly breaking up the moment. Madeline’s stomach growled as the waiter set the plate of steaming lasagna in front of her. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the food was right in front of her.
Looking up, she saw Zayid grinning at her, and a blush bloomed across her cheeks as she realized he’d heard her stomach growl. The urge to stick her tongue out at him rose inside her, but she waited until the waiter left until she did so.
“Don’t think that men are the only ones allowed to make funny noises.” Madeline wagged her finger at him as she scooped up her lasagna with a fork. “Women have bodies too, you know.”
“Oh I’m well aware of the fact that women have bodies,” Zayid said, and the wicked gleam in his eyes caused warmth to spread low in Madeline’s stomach. Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to her food, hoping that their conversation wouldn’t get any more suggestive.
Thankfully the rest of dinner proceeded smoothly enough. Zayid made casual conversation with her, telling her a little about his siblings and family, and she told him about her parents and life growing up with Vanessa. They laughed over a few shared anecdotes, and by the time their plates were cleared she was feeling relaxed and very full.
“Well thank you for dinner,” Madeline said as they prepared to leave. She’d thought about asking him to split the check with her, but she had a feeling that would turn into an argument, and besides, this was supposed to be a kind of apology gift. “I enjoyed myself.”
“As did I.” Zayid opened the front door so that she could walk out into the cool night air first. Since Dubai was in the desert, the nights cooled off rapidly, and Madeline shivered a little, thankful that this time she’d brought a jacket. “Do you need a ride back to your apartment? I know it’s a little far from here, and it’s dark now.”
Madeline hesitated for just a moment, but realized there was no harm. He’d agreed to be respectful, hadn’t he? “Sure, I’d love a ride.”
His Porsche was parked around the block, and she ran an admiring hand down the side as she walked over to the passenger’s door. Zayid’s lips quirked into a smile as he opened the door for her, but she didn’t care. There was no harm in appreciating a luxury vehicle, and his Porsche was pretty damned sexy.
“You know, if you want to drive all you have to do is ask,” he said, the amusement clear in his tone as he settled hims
elf into the driver’s seat.
Madeline grinned a little. “Well if I’d known that, I would have already taken you up on the offer. Maybe next time then.”
Zayid’s grin broadened. “Next time?”
“Well you did mention that we’re practically family,” Madeline pointed out as he started up the engine. “And we’re apparently working together on this IVF project of mine. I figure that means we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
“Indeed.”
Zayid’s driving was much less reckless this time around, to Madeline’s relief. Part of her imagined that if she were a regular driver and had a luxury sports car, she would rocket it around town like Zayid—she wasn’t above that kind of behavior. But she was so used to not driving in the city that she didn’t feel totally comfortable. Maybe she really would take Zayid up on that offer to drive and she could learn some moves. She grinned at the thought.
Zayid pulled up to a stop in front of her apartment, then turned to look at her. “What are you grinning about?”
Madeline’s grin widened. “I was just thinking about what it would be like if you taught me some race-car moves. Probably a disaster.”
Zayid laughed. “I’d make sure we went to a deserted area first. No sense in wrecking my car.” He patted the steering wheel lovingly.
“Yeah, that would be a shame.”
Zayid’s eyes softened then. “It would be more of a shame if you were hurt than anything else,” he said, gently cupping her chin. “A car can always be replaced, but not a life.”
Madeline’s breath caught as she stared into Zayid’s eyes, frozen in the intimate moment. Her heart began beating faster in her chest, and she could feel heat warming her cheeks as Zayid drew a little closer, his gaze devouring hers. Filled with desire, her lips parted of their own accord, yearning for his kiss even though her mind screamed at her that she should back away and get out of the car.
But to her surprise, just when Madeline was sure their lips were about to meet, Zayid drew back with a smile. “Have a good evening, Madeline.”