by Leslie North
The waitress stopped by, and Fatima and Katie ordered. Sipping at her glass of white wine, Katie saw her opportunity to get a little more information. “What do you know about Khalid?”
Fatima’s lip curled. “Got your eye on him?”
“Hardly.” Katie snorted. “Amira recommended that I might work for him in the gallery. I had a job interview with him this morning.”
Fatima leaned across the table, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Really?”
“Don’t get all excited for me. It did not go well. He managed to offer me a job and take it away in the span of five seconds. He’s cold and rigid. The complete opposite of his brothers. What is with that?”
“Actually, it used to be different. Asad used to be the cold and rigid one. I guess Liyah has made him soft. Khalid has always been a recluse. I always saw him as a spoiled child. Too much into his own pursuits to ever care about anyone but himself. He certainly didn’t seem to care for women.” She rolled her eyes and turned her nose up. “And it’s not just me saying that, either. Everyone thought he was a bit strange. Unlike his brothers, he didn’t want to stand on his own two feet, financially. I guess he hoped that he would live off the family fortune forever.”
Katie wasn’t quite sure she understood what her new friend was trying to say. “Did you try to date him or something?”
“That is not what I said!” Fatima snapped angrily before she took a deep breath and swirled her glass, a strange gleam in her eye. “Khalid is a deadbeat. His father put a stop to that, but I don’t think it changed Khalid’s disposition on life. I’m just warning you so that you can save yourself a lot of trouble by steering clear.”
Katie blew out her breath. “So you think that he resents the gallery?”
“No doubt. That one is a sour apple.” Fatima smiled wickedly. “I feel sorry for any woman who falls for him. He’d take an independent woman like you or me and strip us to nothing.” Her gaze growing uncomfortably intense, she repeated, “If I were you, I’d steer clear of him.”
“You’re probably right.” Katie immediately changed the subject, but something didn’t sit right with her about the things that Fatima was saying. Khalid didn’t seem like a man who gave a damn about family money, and he didn’t seem resentful about the gallery—but Fatima did know the family better than Katie did. Maybe Katie was just bad at judging people.
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like Khalid was going to hire her, anyway.
4
Borrowing a dress from Mila, Katie tried to put on a bright smile and positive attitude as she arrived at the palace for dinner and a movie night with Amira. She had no idea why a movie night should be such a dressy occasion, but when Amira greeted her wearing gold lamé, she suddenly felt underdressed.
“Katie! I’m so glad that you could make it! Sahaar said that you’ve been feeling a little down, lately.”
She had? Katie wrinkled her nose. “Not down. Just a little disappointed. I’m intrigued by your idea of movie night. Generally, in America, it’s pajamas, pizza, and beer. This is the first time I’ve had to wear a dress!”
“Pajamas, pizza, and beer?” Amira’s eyes widened. “That sounds interesting. Maybe next time! I’ve invited some friends from the art world so that you can expand your contacts. Khalid, of course, is here. I’m surprised that you didn’t take him up on the job offer!”
“I . . .” Katie frowned. “What did he say, exactly?” She followed Amira down the expansive hall.
Amira waved her hands. “Nothing, but that’s like Khalid. If you’re still interested, I’m sure that Khalid will set up a time for an interview.”
Hardly. Katie rolled her eyes. How annoying that Khalid hadn’t even bothered to tell his own sister that he didn’t think Katie was good enough to work for him. The last thing she wanted to see was his snobby, gloomy face.
Still, it was obvious that Amira had put in some effort to invite people Katie could connect with, and she didn’t want to ruin her new friend’s move. Plastering a smile on her face, she tried to look comfortable and at ease as she followed Amira into the dining hall. A dozen people were seated at the long table, including Liyah and Asad, but Katie’s eyes went directly to Khalid.
It was just plain wrong that a man so cold on the inside could be so beautiful on the outside. His gorgeous green eyes barely swept over her when she entered. There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition in his gaze, and there were two women seated on either side of him. They both leaned in toward him, pushing their cleavage practically into his face.
Wonderful.
How can such an exquisitely beautiful man be so cold, like he barely has a heart beating in his chest?
“Everyone, this is Katie. She’s new to Dubai and looking to get better acquainted with the art world, so please allow her to pick your brains,” Amira announced. She gestured to the empty chair next to Liyah and took her own place at the head of the table.
As Katie sat down, Liyah leaned over and squeezed her hand. “You look beautiful!”
“Thanks, although next to Amira, I’m pretty much invisible.”
“A rarity for you, I’m sure, but don’t worry. Next to Amira, we’re all pretty much invisible.”
A glass of red wine appeared in front of her as a server made her way around the table. The conversation started up again, and everyone’s attention turned to Amira. It was obvious that the only men who weren’t interested in Amira were her brothers.
“Shouldn’t Asad be at the head of the table?” Katie whispered as she picked up her glass.
Liyah leaned a little closer to answer in an undertone. “Traditionally, yes. But he likes to sit next to me, and as much as they hate to admit it, Amira has all of her brothers wrapped around her little finger. It’s almost comical to watch them.”
The appetizers were served, an array of meat and veggie kabobs with different sauces. Katie’s eyes widened when she saw how much there was to eat. Amira, no doubt, had thought that her idea of pizza and beer was laughable.
“Katie? My name is Haidar. I’m a collector.” The handsome man across from her smiled charmingly at her as he leaned forward over the table.
Asad snorted. “Collector? More like obsessed. You just have to have the most expensive things.”
“Ignore him,” Haidar said easily. “What’s your interest in Dubai’s art scene?”
“I’m looking for a job, actually. I’ve studied art history for the past six years. I’m most interested in Egyptian and Asian culture, but I can curate contemporary collections, as well.” Although she desperately wanted to glance at Khalid, she kept her focus trained on the older man in front of her. He wasn’t being shy about hiding the lust in his face, but she didn’t want to cause any problems at Amira’s dinner.
“If you like Egyptian culture, I have several intact fertility statues from the Fourth Dynasty. I’d be more than happy to give you a personal tour.” The man’s gaze moved to her chest, and Katie narrowed her eyes.
“I’d like a tour as well,” Asad said suddenly, and his tone carried a clear warning.
Surprised, Katie turned her head. Liyah reached over, squeezed her hand, and winked.
The conversation died down instantly until someone else laughed and said, “Don’t mind him, Katie, darling. Haidar thinks his art collection is an aphrodisiac. In truth, most of the women that he lures to his palace can’t tell the difference between an ancient fertility statue and those quaint little Hummel figurines. You would be a true prize for him.”
Cracking a smile, Katie leaned back in her chair and picked up her glass of wine. “The size difference alone would be telling.”
The new speaker roared with laughter. At last, he added, “I’m Qasim. Much like Haidar, I’m far too rich to actually work for an art gallery, but my uncle owns a relatively well-known gallery in Qatar. I’d be happy to make a call. Any friend of Amira’s is a friend of mine.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly as he picked up Amira’s hand and kissed it.
She rolled her eyes dramatically, and the whole table laughed. Apparently, Katie was missing out on the joke.
“Why art history? Do you find yourself at home with beautiful things?” Haidar asked.
Katie cleared her throat. “Art is human emotion materialized. It’s a portal into history as well as preservation in contemporary issues. Art galleries are notorious for turning these beautiful pieces of history into dollar signs.”
“Of course,” Qasim interrupted. “Art is a luxury business.”
Katie snorted. “It’s a luxury business because of the gallery owners. You control what are considered masterpieces. You put bogus price tags on these pieces and then plant people to drive up prices in auctions, and you only sell to the most exclusive collectors to give the illusion that art is out of reach of the average art lover. It’s an old tradition, and it’s one that I can certainly never change. That’s why I got into curation. I like to bring history back to art. Bring humanity back to the art. Make it tangible again.”
“Interesting,” Amira said, leaning forward. “Khalid was having the same conversation with our father, not too long ago. What was it that you said you wanted, Khalid? More diversity in your gallery?”
Unable to help herself, Katie turned her head and stared at Khalid. His face was unreadable, but his gaze was trained on her. “I think there is something to be said about using some of our expansive space to showcase up-and-coming artists. Art is for the people, and I believe in supporting the city.”
The surprise must have shown on her face, for his expression hardened.
She cleared her throat. “I think that’s admirable.”
“Admirable, sure, but he’s doing more damage to the art world by making it so inclusive. Make it more attainable, and everyone will lose interest. We all want what we can’t have,” Haidar said in a husky voice.
“Then you must want everything,” Amira joked. She immediately changed the subject as dinner was served, and Katie fell silent while she continued to observe.
Despite Liyah’s engaging personality, it was obvious that the young woman still felt a little out of her element. It was sweet when Asad casually touched her—a comforting squeeze of her leg, or draping his arm over her shoulder. It was possessive and loving at the same time. Though Liyah was a natural beauty, no one at the table looked twice at her. It was obvious that no one dared challenge Asad.
They were not shy about their attentions to Amira, but it was obvious that the woman could take care of herself. Meanwhile, more than a couple of the men openly stared at Katie, and some flirted lightly with her. No one pushed her, though, and most of them looked nervously at Khalid as if to ascertain his reaction.
Katie wasn’t used to drinking, and after a couple glasses of wine, her head started to spin. She excused herself after dinner to go get some fresh air.
Stepping out onto the balcony, she marveled at the beauty of the city below.
“Amira’s friends can only be taken in small doses.”
Katie whirled around, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw who had followed her out.
Khalid kept his eyes on the cityscape as he pulled out a cigar and lit it.
“I’m used to men like that,” she said coolly. “I’m not used to the rich foods and the alcohol.”
“My sister has a way of making a spectacle of everything.”
Katie shrugged. “I think your sister is brilliant. Liyah and Mila have been welcoming simply because of their connection with Sahaar, but your sister didn’t even bat an eye. She threw this whole dinner together just so I could expand my contacts in the art world, and we barely know each other.”
“Yes. That sounds like Amira.”
After a moment of silence, she realized that he wasn’t going to bring up their interview from earlier. Obviously, he didn’t plan to offer a job, and he apparently didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it.
“From what I can tell, your brothers are in competition with each other about who can outdo the other in the business world. But you chose to open a gallery?”
“I didn’t give a damn about business,” he said quietly. The smoke from his cigar curled upward in the air. “I would have been happy to paint for the rest of my life, but my father demanded more from me. The gallery was our way of compromising. I saw it as a way to help others who are passionate about their artwork and still make my father happy.”
There was no inflection in his voice, but from the intensity of his gaze, she could see the passion there. She was nearly taken aback by it. It sounded almost like he was sharing something personal with her.
“Do you still paint?”
The cigar tip brightened as he took a puff, and then he said abruptly, “Why are you here?”
Katie blinked. “Amira invited me.”
“Not here at the palace. Here in Dubai. Why come here for a job?”
“That’s a personal question.” Swallowing hard, she reached out and gripped the railing. There was a shift in the atmosphere, and she could feel his full attention on her. It wasn’t the same lustful gaze that she experienced from most men.
His expression remained unreadable. “So is asking me if I still paint.”
Nodding, she pushed away from the railing, squared her shoulders, and faced him. “For most people, it isn’t a personal question. Asking you what you paint or why you paint might be personal, but not if you paint.”
“And asking you why you moved halfway across the world for a job is also not a personal question. At least, not for most people.”
Jutting out her chin, she crossed her arms. “Maybe we’re just at the point in our relationship where all questions simply seem too personal.”
Khalid raised an eyebrow. “Relationship?”
“Yes. Relationship. In which two people are connected. Are you familiar with the term?”
“I am familiar with the term.” He walked slowly toward her and pulled the cigar away from his mouth. “Since we barely know each other, I think association might be the more correct term. Relationship usually implies intimacy. Did you mean to imply intimacy, Katie?”
She didn’t back down. “No. Intimacy implies passion. You seem fairly devoid of that. I appreciate you keeping me company, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some connections that I need to secure.”
As she walked past him, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “They’re interested in two things. Getting in Amira’s pants, and getting in yours. They don’t see your intellect. They only see your beauty. But you’re used to that, aren’t you?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m used to turning heads, the answer is yes. If you’re suggesting that I use it as a weapon to get what I want, you’re sorely mistaken. Let go of my arm.”
He immediately released her, and she walked inside alone. The conversation at the table was lively as everyone stood to move to the personal theater in the palace. Khalid joined them a few minutes later, but he escorted his two dates and sat in the row behind Katie.
Katie paid no attention to the movie. In the dark, she could practically feel his gaze searing into the back of her head. A room full of people, and she was only aware of him. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, and her breathing was heavy. Desperately, she wanted to turn her head and look at him, watch him, study him, but she kept her back straight and pretended to be enthralled in the movie.
At the end, when Liyah and Amira hugged her goodbye, she finally caught sight of him again. He openly studied her and nodded his head.
That moment haunted her thoughts half the night as she tossed and turned in her bed.
5
“You and Katie disappeared together at dinner,” Amira said, trailing her fingers along his kitchen table.
Khalid unbuttoned his shirt and glared at his sister. “I don’t recall inviting you in here,” he growled.
She shrugged and perched on the table. Swinging her legs, she took some pains to arrange her gold gown for the best effect. His sister always seemed to need to loo
k good, even in the presence of family. “I’m your favorite sibling. I don’t need an invitation.”
“I wouldn’t say favorite.”
She pouted as he shrugged out of his dress shirt and grabbed a t-shirt. “You’re meaner than usual. Someone from dinner get under your skin?”
Khalid glared at her. As a matter of fact, someone had gotten under his skin, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to discuss it with his sister. She had a reputation for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. “I’m cranky because your two friends were throwing themselves at me all night. When are you going to leave my love life alone?”
“You don’t have a love life, Khalid. You have a string of one-night stands, and I would never foist a friend off on you. Not unless I wanted you to break her heart.” She rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you hire Katie?”
“I offered her an assistant’s position in the gallery, and she wanted a curation position. I don’t have a need for a curator,” he grumbled as he walked to the bar. He poured a glass of whiskey for himself and a shot of vodka for his sister.
She tossed her drink back easily and eyed him. “She would have taken the assistant position. She’s not afraid of hard work.” Arching her eyebrows, she slid off the table and walked to the bar.
As she reached for the bottle, he grabbed her wrist. “No more,” he said simply and put the bottle away.
“Since when did you start caring how much I drink?”
Khalid could see the growing frustration in his sister. She wanted more than they were able to give her at the palace, but she couldn’t voice it. Their parents gave her complete freedom inside the palace, but it wasn’t enough. He worried about her.
“It’s late, Amira. You should go to bed.”
“Why don’t you want to give her a chance, Khalid? And don’t lie to me. I can tell.”
It was true. His sister had a talent for looking beyond the surface. It was easier to turn his back than to face her. “She’s a pretty girl with an excellent education and an impressive internship experience. She’ll find a job.”