Romancing the Crown Series

by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)

  He poured two cups and offered her one. "Fil afrahh."

  She took the small cup in both hands. "What does that mean?"

  "To your happiness," he translated. "Do you speak any Arabic?"

  "No," she said, studying the strong coffee with a cautious eye.

  "Your father should have insisted," he said. "It is a beautiful language."

  "I took Spanish in high school and college," she said. "It's much more handy in Texas than Arabic would be." She lifted her eyes cautiously. "But you're right. It is a beautiful language. Fil afrahh," she said softly, lifting her cup in an easy salute.

  She lifted the cup to her lips, took a sip, and made a face.

  "Yikes," she said as she lowered the cup and looked into it with one narrowed eye. "No wonder you can't sleep. This stuff is strong."

  He didn't tell her so, but coffee hadn't kept him awake last night. She had. Unknowingly, unwittingly, she had crept into his mind and taken up residence. He had no choice but to continue with his investigation, and he could not tell Elena why he was here, what he was doing.

  She ruined her coffee with milk and sugar. Lots of sugar. Leaning back against the counter, she closed her eyes, took another sip, and seemed to enjoy the strong brew.

  "Better?" he asked.

  "Much." Her eyes met his. "Are you hungry? I have lots of leftover chocolate cake and pie in the refrigerator."

  He shook his head.

  She smiled, a soft, reluctant grin. "I think I've actually had enough chocolate myself, for a while."

  "Too much of a good thing?" he asked.

  She shuddered, just a little. "Maybe."

  Today he would once again search the refinery, using any excuse he could to work his way into the good graces and confidences of Elena's employees. Perhaps if he looked hard enough and long enough, someone would make a mistake and give themselves away.

  "Tonight..." he began.

  "I have work to do tonight," Elena interrupted tersely. "Really. Lots and lots of..." her eyes met his and she sighed. "Work."

  She was afraid. Of the kiss, of losing control. He knew, because he shared her fears. "You mentioned the Evangeline Ballroom," he said. "You said I should go. Surely you would not make me venture into such an unknown place all alone."

  At the end of the day, when he'd done everything he could do for his father and his country, he wanted to dance with Elena. He wouldn't be here much longer. Either he would find what he was looking for or he would be called home. Yes, he wanted to dance with her. He wanted to hold her and move in time with the music, and while they danced he would imagine all the things they would never do.

  Elena shook her head and finished off her coffee. When she placed the cup on the counter, he saw the surrender in her eyes. "Well, I definitely can't let you go into the Evangeline Ballroom alone."

  Elena had phone calls to answer from her office, which was just as well. Hassan was quite sure Umair as a guide would not be nearly as distracting as Rahman Oil Refinery's lovely CEO.

  But the day after a fire and rescue was not the time to subtly investigate. Everyone wanted to shake his hand, say hello, tell him he was a hero. Hassan tried to tell the men that what he had done was nothing, that any one of them would have done the same, but they wouldn't listen.

  On the surface, there was nothing sinister here. The employees worked hard and for the most part got along well. The mix of sweaty faces was varied; Arabic, Anglo, African-American, and Hispanic worked side by side.

  Elena had a great deal of confidence in her plant manager, Umair Zahid. Umair had been in his position longer than she had, probably knew everything that went on in this refinery. He would have to be involved, if the refinery were indeed a front for the Brothers. Wouldn't he?

  As they left one work area, Hassan pointed toward the south end of the property. "I have not yet seen the water treatment building and the tanks in that area."

  Umair, who was perhaps forty-five and who possessed black, expressionless eyes, stared at Hassan. "There's not much to see. If you've seen one tank you've seen them all."

  "True," Hassan said with a forced smile. "But the water treatment building.. .what kind of system do you use?"

  "What difference does it make?" Umair's black brows came together as he frowned. "I'm sorry," he said in a lowered voice.

  "No, I should apologize," Hassan replied. "You have work to do and I have taken up much of your time."

  "Investors are usually satisfied with a quick peek and then they're out of here," Umair said, no sign of his quick anger remaining. Visibly, he was calm once again. "You've been out here three days in a row, poking around. Makes me antsy, that's all."

  Hassan grinned. "I have no designs on your job, if that's what you're worried about."

  Umair shook his head. "Most days I'd gladly let you have it."

  They walked toward the water treatment building, and Hassan glanced at the plant manager. "How long have you been in this country?" Umair's face was Arabic, but his speech and mannerisms were pure Texan.

  "My folks came here when I was six," he explained, squinting against the bright sunlight. Before they reached the water treatment facility, Umair came to a sudden halt. "Can I be up-front with you, Mr. Kamal?"

  "Of course."

  Umair laid those black eyes on Hassan's face. The man was not intimidated by Hassan's position or wealth, and he wasn't as impressed as his men had been by yesterday's daring rescue. "I'm not worried about my job. I don't mind showing you around the refinery. However, if you plan on taking advantage of Elena in anyway, I do mind."

  The admonition chafed Hassan's pride, more than a little. "You are very protective of your employer."

  "I've known Elena since she was a teenager," Umair said. "First as the owner's daughter, then as an employee. She started here as green as you please, but she learned quick and she knows the refinery business as thoroughly as any man you'll ever find."

  "I have noticed that."

  "If you think you can move in here and take advantage of Elena Rahman just because she's a woman, you've got another think coming."

  "Because you are here to see that I do not?" Hassan couldn't help but wonder if Umair, who was older than Elena by at least fifteen years, had ever coveted a more intimate role in her life. He didn't like the idea, not at all.

  Umair took a deep breath. "I've said too much already. Suzanne always tells me I don't know when to shut up."

  "Suzanne?"

  Umair smiled. His entire face changed. "My wife."

  Hassan breathed a sigh of relief. It was obvious the man was crazy about his wife. "Elena has spoken very highly of you. And I can see that you think highly of her, as well."

  Umair nodded. "I do."

  "I have only known her a few days, but even I can see that she is perfectly capable of issuing her own warnings and admonitions."

  Umair cast a sharp glance at Hassan, unsure what to think of that comment. He took a deep breath and stepped to the side. "You go ahead and look around, Mr. Kamal," he said coolly. "I have work to do."

  Hassan watched Umair walk back toward the admin building nearest the working plant. Was it possible that the plant manager was involved with the Brothers? Was it possible that he was not?

  He resumed his walk toward the water treatment facility, but was stopped short when a man came down the stairs from the laboratory/office situated on top of the huge, sturdy building.

  "Can I help you?"

  Hassan smiled. "I'm touring the facilities," he said. "I haven't seen this building, yet."

  The man, a Malounian, Hassan guessed, continued to smile. Another face appeared at the top of the stairway, and a man came around the building. "I'm sorry," he said. "We're doing maintenance at the moment and the building is closed to visitors. Another day," he said. "Maybe next week."

  "I might not be here next week," Hassan replied, taking a single step forward.

  By this time there were half a dozen employees in the area. All water treatm
ent employees, and all Malounian. Where was the racial mix he had seen elsewhere? Where were the friendly smiles?

  Hassan offered a smile of his own. "All water treatment facilities are about the same, I imagine. Sorry to have disturbed your work." He waved casually and turned his back on the men. A tingle of warning crept down his spine as he walked away.

  Hassan didn't look back, but he had a feeling all the employees at the water treatment building watched without moving from their posts. This was the first unusual incident, the first sign that Rashid's information might have been correct. There was nothing to be done at the moment, but he'd be back to see more of this area. Tonight.

  Scanned with ♥ by Coral

  Chapter 6

  "I am not doing that," Hassan said forcefully, nodding to the dancers who were spread across the Evangeline Ballroom's huge polished floor.

  "The Chicken?" Elena asked with a wide smile. "Why not?"

  He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "It's undignified."

  From their booth against the back wall, Elena watched the line dancers flap their arms like a chicken's wings and silently agreed. "But it's fun," she said.

  "You have done this?" he asked, pointing.

  "No," she answered with a widening smile.

  Tonight Hassan was getting the full Texas treatment. Elena had worn her denim skirt, a sleeveless white blouse with lace at the collar, and cowboy boots. Music blared from the bluegrass band on stage, and on a Friday night the place was packed.

  Even Hassan wore jeans and cowboy boots, along with a white western-style shirt that was stark against the dark skin at his throat. Elena's eyes were continually drawn there, to the place where flesh met cotton.

  They sat across the table from one another and sipped at large glasses of sweet iced tea. The noise in the Evangeline Ballroom, a huge building that looked like a warehouse on the outside and a barn with a polished floor on the inside, was almost deafening. The loud music, the laughter, the shouts of pure joy from the more exuberant dancers—Elena's ears were already ringing.

  Hassan had put in another day at the refinery, helping out where he could and asking endless questions. When he'd arrived at her office, that first day, she'd expected nothing more than a perfunctory examination of the facility and perhaps one more business meeting to discuss financial matters. Instead he had come on like gangbusters, quickly making himself a part of the operation.

  She had never expected that he would take an interest not only in the plant, but in the people who worked there. He asked questions about everyone, and this afternoon he had been very curious about Umair.

  The Chicken ended, and the band struck up something softer, gentler. A good old-fashioned Texas waltz.

  Hassan looked at her and grinned. "This I can do," he said, exiting the booth and offering his hand to her.

  Elena placed her hand in his waiting palm and stood. Nothing had gone as planned this week. Nothing. A part of her wanted to shake her fanciful musings loose and force her life back into its regimented routine. Another, stronger, instinct she hadn't known was a part of her demanded that she close her eyes, drift along, and see what happened next. She had never, not once in her life, been tempted to go with the flow.

  Hassan was a good dancer, she knew that well from their evening at Leon's. The two-step took the dancers in a circle around the ballroom, a beautifully rotating ring of swirling skirts and cowboy boots that moved in time with the music. Each couple moved in their own time, and yet as one. Elena noted that fact once, and then her world narrowed. There was only this dance, the music, and the way Hassan held her.

  His arms were strong and yet gentle, the way a man's arms should be. There was strength all through his body, an almost tangible force she felt more intensely with every passing second. He was a warrior, a man's man, the kind of man every mother warned every daughter about. There had been no one to warn Elena about men like this one, but she had learned to trust her own instincts, to rely on herself and no one else. And still... she wouldn't push this man away for all the world.

  She worked in a world of men. Kitty and a few lower level employees in the main admin building were the only women she saw on a regular basis. The refinery was a man's world. Her father lived in a man's world. Nothing and no one fazed her.

  So why did she feel so different when she was with Hassan? When he held her like this, when he kissed her, when he looked at her. She had a sinking feeling that he might be a weakness she could not afford.

  "When are you returning to Tamir?" she asked as he spun her around.

  "I don't know. Nothing is settled between us."

  Her heart skipped a beat. He was talking about the proposed partnership, of course, but for a second she'd been sure he spoke of something else entirely.

  "Do you have plans for the weekend?"

  His answering smile was brilliant. "None."

  "I have a small ranch just an hour or so from town. It's not much, but I have a few horses, and there's a really great path along the river. Do you ride?"

  He gave her a look that said, without a word, Do I ride? Of course I do. I ride better than you. I ride better than any man. He said all that with a lift of his eyebrows and a mischievous twinkle in his black eyes. "I would love to spend the day at your ranch."

  "Good."

  The music ended, the dance came to a close, and they stood on the dance floor awaiting the next song. Neither of them wanted to move, it seemed. They stood there, transfixed, caught between one song and the next.

  But the band leader announced a twenty-minute break, and the spell was broken. Hassan took her arm and they made way for their table, walking arm in arm through the crowd.

  "Elena?" She recognized that voice, and spun to face Cade Gallagher as he descended upon her with a widening smile and a question in his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

  Before she had a chance to answer, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before."

  When he released her, Elena stepped back and looked up at him. "You come here often?"

  "When I'm in town." His eyes drifted past her to land on Hassan. The friendly look he had given her vanished.

  "Cade this is Hassan," she said, keeping the introduction simple.

  The men each extended a hand for what looked to be a not-so-friendly handshake. They stood almost eye to eye. Hassan was an inch or so taller, but Cade made up for the lack by being a tough as leather Texan who never backed down an inch. Cade and Hassan sized one another up as they shook hands, in that way macho men had. They each used a firm grasp, she noticed, and eyeballed one another hard.

  "One of your father's friends?" Cade asked in an icy tone, his question directed to her, his eyes never leaving Hassan's face.

  "I am Elena's friend," Hassan answered.

  It was like throwing a switch. Separately Cade and Hassan were sweet, caring, wonderful men. Put them nose to nose and they turned into a couple of common bar brawlers looking for a fight. Even though she didn't completely understand, she did know why these two faced one another this way. They each, for their own separate reasons, felt protective of her. She supposed she should be flattered, but watching them stare one another down, she could only shake her head in wonder. She didn't need protecting. Never had.

  She finally leaned in just a little, and in a lowered voice said, "Why don't you two just step out back and have yourselves a good old-fashioned pissing contest."

  They both turned their eyes down to her.

  "Excuse me?" Hassan asked.

  "Elena!" Cade admonished. "Watch your language."

  She grinned at them both. The initial tension had been quickly diffused. "Would you like to join us, Cade?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "I have a beer and a blonde waiting at the bar. I just wanted to say hello."

  There was a touch of sadness in that deep voice. She and Cade had once been close, but these days they barely spoke. He'
d had a falling out with her father, years ago. Neither of them would speak about the problem, at least not to her. Cade told her she should quit working for her father and strike out on her own, and was always so disappointed when she refused his suggestion.

  "Good to see you," she said, reaching up to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Call me sometime." She wouldn't hold her breath waiting for that call, though she did wish it would come.

  When Cade sauntered off, Hassan took her arm and guided her toward their table. "Who was that?" he asked testily as they sat.

  Elena smiled across the table. "The first man I ever loved," she answered. "My first summer romance."

  Hassan's eyes narrowed. "Really?"

  Elena smiled widely. "I was eleven and home for the summer, enjoying a vacation from boarding school. Cade was seventeen and already a heartbreaker. Every night I wrote about him in my diary."

  "I would like to see this diary," Hassan said, visibly relaxing as he realized that her love had been that of a child.

  "Sorry. I burned it years ago." She leaned across the table. "Some secrets should never be revealed." Her smile dimmed. "Actually, he's my brother."

  "Your brother?'

  "Adopted," she added. "His parents died when he was a teenager. First his father, and then a short while later his mother. Mrs. Gallagher and my father were friends. When she passed on, she named my father Cade's guardian."

  "And now?" Hassan asked. "I haven't seen your brother at the refinery."

  "Cade and Dad parted ways years ago, and not on good terms," Elena explained. "I swear, they butted heads at every turn. This all happened before I joined the business, so I wasn't there to smooth things over." Or to be privy to what caused that final rift.

  "You do that, don't you?" Hassan asked with a smile.

  "Do what?"

  "Smooth things over for your father."

  She shrugged. "He isn't a people person."

  "But you and this Cade remain close," Hassan said, his smile fading.

  "We try, but to be honest I don't see Cade much, these days. He goes his way and I go mine, and we're both very busy. Besides," she added, trying to lighten her voice. "We're both workaholics. Whenever we do run into one another, we always end up talking about business."