by Leslie North
Heat prickled her cheeks under his praise and she looked away. “That’s what I’m paid for.”
“About that.” Raheem settled back in his seat, stretching his arm along the back, his fingertips barely grazing her shoulder and sending shivers of awareness through her. “When was the last time you received a promotion at this production company of yours?”
“Oh, well. I haven’t been there long and I don’t really have big-name projects under my belt yet, so promotion hasn’t come up yet.”
“So, never?” He raised a brow at her and she nodded, uncertain and embarrassed, though she couldn’t say why exactly. “That’s what I thought.”
Raheem sat forward and rattled off something to the driver in rapid-fire Arabic and moments later, they pulled up at the entrance to an expensive shopping mall. Without waiting for the driver, Raheem got out and walked around the vehicle to help Laura down then told the driver to return in an hour.
Taking her hand, he led Laura inside the chic establishment lined with designer stores and luxury labels from around the globe. At the end of a marble-and-gilt corridor, Raheem took her into a shop featuring the most glorious silk scarves she’d ever seen. Rainbow hues of every color imaginable covered shelves along the walls and flowed from towering racks in the center of the store. An assistant immediately came over and bowed to Raheem and Laura then asked in perfect English what they might be looking for. Sunlight glittered down from several huge skylights above, making the entire space resemble more of an enchanted, prismatic cave of wonders. Though they were in the middle of a busy mall, there was no sound here except the soothing strains of sitar music from speakers hidden somewhere beyond and the faint trickle of water from a small fountain near the corner. Laura felt as if she’d been dropped into the middle of an Arabian Nights fairy tale, starring just her and Raheem.
“Get whatever you like,” he said. “My treat. As payback for all the times you were overlooked at your production company.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Laura had no idea how much these sumptuous scarves and pashminas and shawls cost, but she was certain she could never, ever afford any of them. “Really. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Raheem excused himself to the assistant then took Laura’s hand again and led her farther into the store, near the very back where clouds of brightly colored silk shielded them from the view of any prying eyes. He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent slightly to meet her gaze. “Listen to me, Laura Bliss. You deserve every good thing life has to offer you. You deserve so much more than what you’ve gotten in the past, and it’s my duty and my honor to show you your true worth, while you are here in my country. Understand?”
She nodded, feeling oddly distracted. Maybe it was all the expensive silk surrounding her. Maybe it was the slight fragrance of cloves and spice in the air. Maybe it was his firm, soft, full lips hovering so close to hers that she was having a hard time concentrating on his words and not wondering how those lips would feel on hers as he kissed her.
Stop it. He’s your boss. He’s off-limits.
He’s seriously gorgeous.
“Laura?” Raheem frowned slightly, leaning in a bit closer, concern filling his warm golden eyes. “Are you all right? Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what you want.”
In a daze, without thinking, she closed the small distance between them and kissed him, right there in the middle of the scarf store. For one second a tiny warning bell clanged inside her head before being crushed beneath the overwhelming rightness of him pressed against her.
For his part, Raheem stiffened in her embrace for a second then held her tight in his arms, his lips moving over hers and taking command of the kiss. She gasped when his tongue traced over her lips and he took full advantage, sweeping inside to taste her.
She slid her hands up his shoulders and into his soft, dark hair, clasping gently. He moaned and her knees wobbled with want. He smelled of sunshine and sandalwood and pure, clean male. His kisses were flavored with mint and coffee and something uniquely him and Laura couldn’t get enough. More, she needed more. Would die if she couldn’t get more of him.
Raheem seemed to feel the same as he crushed her even closer against him, tearing his lips from hers to kiss his way across her cheek to her ear, where he whispered dark endearments in his native language. She was lost, lost in lust and wonder and—
The warmth of Raheem’s body was suddenly gone.
There was a rustle of fabric then the rack of scarves shielding them from view parted as the assistant came to check on them. Panting and wide-eyed, Laura and Raheem stared at each other across the span of several feet. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her legs were shaking. Raheem kept staring at her mouth, making her lips tingle with his remembered kisses.
“Is there anything I can show either of you?” the assistant asked, apparently oblivious to the sexual tension sizzling through the air between them.
“No, thank you.” Raheem cleared his throat and straightened his tie, knocked askew during their heated embrace. Laura envied him the swiftness with which he regained his composure, because she still felt like a complete mess inside. “We need to be leaving now.”
With that, Raheem took Laura’s elbow and guided her out of the store then out of the mall, his touch as impersonal and cold now as it had been intimate and heated during their kiss. As they climbed back inside the Range Rover and headed for the palace, Laura was torn between the amazing awareness still sizzling between her and Raheem and the sickening fear that she could very well have just made the worst mistake of her life.
10
To say that Raheem’s world had been rocked by that kiss in the scarf store would be the understatement of the century. He spent the rest of the afternoon locked in his offices within the palace trying to catch up on his never-ending stream of paperwork and failing miserably. Didn’t help that each time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Laura standing there, staring at his mouth like a starving dog staring at a steak. Then there was the feel of her in his arms, all softness and warmth. And each time he licked his lips he fancied he could still taste her there—sweetness and sunshine and bright minty goodness. It was enough to drive a lesser man to his knees.
Good thing Raheem was no lesser man.
In fact, he was so distracted he didn’t even notice the time until one of the servants came and knocked on his door to announce that dinner was ready. He stood and followed the man down the hall, eager to see Laura again and see if she was feeling the same rush of adrenaline and need that he was each time he remembered their embrace behind the scarves.
Instead, he found the dining room full of too many bickering sisters and no sign of Laura anywhere around. His brothers also were strangely absent. He took his seat at the table and wished he’d chosen to have his meal sent to his rooms instead. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his sisters. He did. But four of them together, against one of him, was just a migraine waiting to happen.
The four women abruptly stopped chattering and stared at him.
“Good evening, brother,” Jessenia said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. “I hope it’s not a problem that we went ahead and started without you. We weren’t sure what your plans would be, what with your little American guest and all.”
Raheem sat back as a servant placed a plate of salad in front of him. “Laura is not my guest. She is my employee.”
Even as he said the words, images of them kissing behind the scarves blazed through his mind. Employee wasn’t the right word to describe Laura either. After all, he’d certainly never been caught canoodling with anyone else who worked for him or his family. But he wasn’t quite ready to put another title to her yet either. He liked Laura. Liked hanging out with her and showing her his country. She was smart and funny and kind. She listened to and appreciated his ideas without bias or condescension. Having Laura around was refreshing.
And distracting.
He looked up to find all four sisters staring at
him expectantly.
Damn. They’d obviously asked him something and he had no idea what.
“I’m sorry?” Raheem said, around a bite of romaine lettuce and sweet vinaigrette dressing.
Jessenia narrowed her gaze on him, Cala rolled her eyes, and Najma gave a disgusted shake of her head as she continued texting on her phone. To be honest, Raheem was surprised to see Naj tonight. Usually she found any excuse not to join the family at the dinner table. Only young Razi was smiling and laughing like Raheem was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
“I asked exactly what you’ve hired Miss Bliss to do here,” Jess said, her tone sharp.
“Despite the fact that it’s none of your business, I’ll tell you that she is working with me on a marketing campaign to raise money for the new wildlife refuge I wish to establish.” He grabbed a roll from the basket on the table and tore into it. A collective gasp rang out from the women followed by a low murmur as hushed conversation took place.
Growing up around four women, two older than him, two younger, Raheem had learned early on to tune them out whenever they ganged up on him. Tonight was no exception. He slathered butter on his roll then went back to his salad, awaiting the inevitable barrage of questions once they’d regrouped. Good thing he’d brought along a copy of the evening paper to look through while he ate.
“I see,” Cala said at last, her voice as tight as Jess’s had been. “What exactly do you know about this Laura Bliss woman?”
“Enough to see she’s the best person for this job,” Raheem replied, not looking up.
Another gasp, which he ignored, followed by more murmurs.
“Are you aware that she’s been seen meeting and negotiating with local craftswomen for your project?” Jess said. “That is our territory, as you well know, brother. I do not appreciate having your little girlfriend traipsing about, doing things that are the duty of the royal family.”
“Nor do I,” Cala said.
“Or me,” Naj added, after a swift elbow to her side from Cala.
Razi giggled and shook her head. “Silly Raheem.”
“First of all,” Raheem said, pushing away his empty salad plate and looking up at his sisters at last. “Djeva is a free country. Anyone is free to associate with anyone else they choose, royal or not. Second of all, none of you have lifted a finger to help me with my project since its inception, so to complain now about a woman who is working hard to get the job done is absurd. And thirdly—”
“Thirdly, you promised me that job, Raheem!” Jess threw down her napkin and stood. “You specifically sat here last month and told me that I would be your partner in establishing the wildlife refuge. And now you go off and hire some American woman who just happened to wander into our camp one night to do my job. You claim to know enough to hire her, but I doubt that’s true, brother. How could you? You’ve known her all of three days. She meets with these vendors behind your back. She goes running off to who knows where for hours at a time. And she still talks to that movie company she claims to work for, the one she claims sent her out into the desert and allowed her to get lost. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps Miss Bliss isn’t what she claims to be at all?” Jess inhaled sharply, her cheeks flaming and her eyes sparkling with fury. “Did you ever stop to think for one second that she’s not the right person for this job? No, you didn’t. Because you are only thinking with the head between your legs instead of the one on your neck where she’s concerned, brother!”
With that, Jess stormed out, leaving the rest of them staring after her, astonished. Raheem blinked several times, still trying to take all that in. Yes, Laura had been left to her own devices for most of this past week, but that was more his fault than hers. He’d been stuck in meetings. And she’d mentioned her production company before, hadn’t she? Stating she still hadn’t told them about working for him, but she’d had a plausible excuse. Perhaps her phone calls to them now were just to handle that aspect of things.
Or not.
Raheem had been burned enough in the past by women to have developed a healthy distrust. Normally, his bullshit detector was pretty good, especially in business. But could Jess have been right? Had he let his cock make his decisions for him where Laura was concerned? He had had his doubts that night when she’d first shown up in their camp, but he’d soon let those go after being charmed by Laura.
His frown deepened. No. Laura was qualified for the job. And despite what Jess had said, he’d had the palace security team run full checks on her before he’d offered her the job. She was qualified for the position, no doubt about that. And her raw talent spoke for itself.
Which left Jess’s hurt feelings over a job offer from him that he honestly couldn’t remember making. He remembered discussing the refuge one night over a family dinner here in this very dining room and even remembered bouncing ideas off his family members. But not once in that conversation did he ever mention to Jess that they would be partners in the venture, at least he didn’t think he had.
She obviously felt otherwise, however. If the glares he was now getting from Cala and Naj were any indication, they weren’t too happy with him either. The only one who was looking at him in a friendly way was Razi.
“Come on,” Cala said, pushing to her feet and grabbing Naj by the arm. “Our sister needs us.”
Reluctantly, Naj got up and trailed after Cala toward the door. “Raz, come on!”
Razi shrugged and waved then raced after her sisters out of the room, leaving Raheem alone to contemplate the error of his ways and figure out what the hell he’d done wrong this time. When the servant appeared with his main course—lamb kebabs—he waved them away and stood himself. His appetite was ruined by his sisters’ emotional drama show and now the only thing he craved was to get to the bottom of their suspicions about Laura.
He stalked off through the foyer and down the hall to the corridor in which her rooms were located. Time to put these rumors and doubts to rest once and for all. He stopped outside her door and knocked.
“Come in!” she yelled.
Raheem walked inside Laura’s suite to find her in the sitting area, surrounded by colorful handicrafts of all kinds and a computer covered with sticky notes.
“Hey,” she said, smiling at him over the top of her laptop screen. Finally, someone who seemed genuinely happy to see him. His heart squeezed with happiness at the thought Laura might have missed him too, at least a little. Then he slammed the lid down hard on that. He would not give his nosy sisters the satisfaction of being right. He would handle this meeting in a rational, purely non-emotional way. He would prove to himself that his relationship with Laura had nothing to do with the simmering attraction between them, her pretty face and gorgeous hair, and everything to do with her brilliant brain and PR skills.
She continued smiling at him as she waved him over to sit on the settee beside her. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a couple things I’d like to run by you, if you have the time.” She typed a few things into her computer, her elegant fingers flying over the keys, and Raheem couldn’t help wondering how those same fingers would feel fluttering over his skin, kneading the muscles of his back as she clung to him and he drove them both toward the brink of ecstasy…
Nope. He shook off the errant, erotic thoughts and scowled at her screen. “How many tabs do you have open right now?”
“What? Oh.” She grimaced and began shutting the windows down one by one. “I don’t know. Lost count, I’m afraid. Which reminds me, have I told you exactly how awesome the WiFi is here? Incredibly fast and no downtimes at all. It’s amazing. Seriously. Is it like this all throughout Djeva or just here in the palace? Because this could be a major selling point for you to attract new business to the region.”
He was used to her mind going at a hundred miles an hour and shifting from one idea to the next, but she was talking so rapidly now that even he couldn’t keep up. “I need to speak with you too, about my project.”
That silenced Laura. Or maybe i
t was the quiet seriousness of his tone.
Either way, she blinked up at him and waited for him to continue.
He picked up one of the scarves from the seat and ran it through his fingers, the fabric cool and silky, its gray-green color reminding him of ocean water and faraway lands, of freedom and fluidity, of things best not pondered because he had royal duties and obligations and having a fling with a traveling location scout wasn’t on his official agenda. Raheem cleared his throat and gripped the scarf tight. “I feel the need to remind you, Miss Bliss, that this wildlife refuge and the project to raise funds for it are mine to direct as I see fit. Any and all decisions regarding the marketing campaigns around the fundraising are to be run by me first before anything is implemented or agreed to. Is that clear?”
Laura frowned and the brightness in her sparkling green eyes dimmed. He immediately regretted his words and harsh tone, but it was too late to take them back now. “Have I done something wrong? I’ve been working under your directives as closely as possible this week until I could meet with you to discuss what I’ve found and my ideas for the campaign.” She closed her laptop and clasped her hands atop it, staring down at them, not meeting his gaze. “This project is a bit different from others I’ve researched in this area. Djeva is still a young democracy and is still establishing its position in the region, so some of the tactics used by your larger, more established neighbors in the region may not work as effectively here. But I think you have a real opportunity to showcase Djeva’s unique and pure culture and heritage in a way that could benefit not only the ultra-rich in the country, but every one of Djeva’s citizens.” She pointed to some elaborately hand-sewn ceremonial garments draped over a chair across from them. Made of the finest silks and satins, their bright jewel tones and sequins looked like something out of an Arabian fever dream and Raheem felt national pride swell within him. Djeva was a fine nation and he was proud to call himself a member of its ruling family. “I believe your best strategy to raise the funds you need is to show a benefit that will appeal to all of Djeva’s people, rich and poor alike—show them the beauty and worth of their heritage and homeland and the money will follow.”