The Brazilian Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain

by Lara Hunter

  Tariq explained how Sheikh Aashiq had become hugely unpopular during the process of building his palace—especially after draining the nation’s funds for the sake of constructing his great, red home. Fearful and paranoid, Aashiq would traverse his many balconies for days on end, scouting the seas for any sign of approaching enemies.

  The story was fascinating and sad, Emily thought, but she could hardly pay attention anymore—all she could think about was the mysterious woman who her crush was supposed to be married to, and what it was that had made Tariq feel as though he didn’t have any love to give her.

  “Why did you go to the States?” she asked quietly.

  “Well, I loved travel, even back then. And I knew I wasn’t ready to settle down and be with this woman, as lovely as she seemed. My parents…” he trailed off, sighing. “Our family has a long-standing interest in oil. My whole childhood was oil, oil, oil. Can I tell you something?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t even like filling my car up at the gas station. How was I supposed to take over an oil company, or be someone’s husband? All I wanted to do was travel. So I went to the States—against my parent’s wishes, of course—and I started my own business. At twenty-two years old I launched my own airline. Needless to say, this caused quite a bit of tension at home.”

  “Well,” Emily retorted, “you did come back a billionaire, so I’m sure there was no love lost.”

  Tariq didn’t reply; instead, his eyes cast over the water in the distance. His tan skin soaked up the sun so much that he nearly glowed like the golden domes above them.

  Emily felt her heart rate quicken as she thought about him being previously engaged. Sure, it didn’t so much count when you were contractually obliged to marry the person in question, but even the fact that he had called her lovely had made Emily feel jealous. Jealous over a woman who had been abandoned, and all because of a man she’d only met two weeks ago.

  Uh-oh, Emily thought to herself. ‘You’re in deep with this one!

  EIGHT

  The hot sun shone down on Emily and Tariq as they exited the palace. Thankfully, Emily had thought ahead and worn a modest maxi dress with a black-and-white chevron pattern and a large, wide-brimmed hat. She felt stylish—old Hollywood, almost. Something about being in another country made her feel like she could break out of her plain, ordinary office wear and break out the vacation clothes.

  Tariq looked handsome as ever, his five-o-clock shadow now becoming more apparent, and adding to his sexiness. Emily was never normally a fan of facial hair on men, but on Tariq it looked rugged, masculine. She felt an uncontrollable urge to kiss him, butterflies swirling all throughout her stomach.

  The couple sat back in their seats on the bus and listened to the chatter from the other patrons about how amazing the palace was and how sad a tale it was that a man could love wealth more than his family.

  “So,” Emily finally spoke up. “Finish your story. We were just getting to the really harrowing parts.”

  “Lucky me,” he quipped. “What’s left to tell?”

  “Um,” she whispered. “Everything? Like, why are you like Aashiq? Why are you so hollow, if you never actually married that girl?”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t say I am hollow. What I should have said was that his story was my worst nightmare. So, I moved to the States, built this business. I was making money and feeling great, and then I went home for a visit, thinking my parents would be proud of me. Hoping they’d accept my path in life.”

  “And?”

  “And all throughout dinner all I heard about was this woman I had been engaged to… and her life sounded amazing. She ended up getting married; she has three children and a wonderful home. She travels. She has everything I ever wanted.”

  “But you didn’t want her,” Emily said, puzzled.

  “What I wanted was money.” He shrugged. “Simple as that, as awful as it sounds. I chose money over a woman who could have been a perfect match for me. Something old Aashiq and I have in common.”

  “Ah,” she said with a curt nod.

  Their conversation seemed to dwindle slightly after that, and Emily felt guilty for bringing up old wounds. Being back in Al Dirhan was probably raising all sorts of old emotions in Tariq, and here she was prodding at his painful family secrets. If anyone understood having a tense relationship with family, it was Emily. Then she remembered that she wasn’t the one who brought it up at all—he was.

  The next stop took an hour or so to get to, which was plenty of time for Emily to sit back and appreciate the bus’s air-conditioning. At first sight, the next stop was much less impressive than the grand palace; a small stone mass with a staircase leading underground was all that greeted them when they stepped off the bus. There was a modest sign outside of the building, but Emily couldn’t even pretend to read what it said.

  “Another of Tariq’s masterfully planned tourist destinations?” she grinned as her date once again clasped her hand in his and began leading her down the staircase.

  “Mmhm…”

  “Which is, what?”

  He smiled. “Guess.”

  “Okay, here’s what I’ve been thinking,” she began enthusiastically. “Not only are you taking me on a tour of the most historic places in Al Dirhan, you’re also taking me on an emotional rollercoaster. So, I’m guessing since the last place was a little sad, this place is going to tickle my romantic funny bone.”

  “Close,” he nodded, putting his hands over her eyes and leading her farther down the staircase. “Very close.”

  Emily allowed the handsome Sheikh to lead her down the staircase, blindfolded by his hand. He held her there as the rest of the patrons passed them by, saying he wanted to wait for them to have some time alone without the other tourists around. She waited patiently and felt only a handful of people passing by.

  Come to think of it, not a lot of people were rushing to get off the tour bus.

  Finally, Tariq moved his hand and told her to open her eyes.

  “It’s a tomb,” she said flatly.

  “A catacomb,” he corrected.

  “So by ‘very close’ you actually meant to say ‘Emily, you gorgeous creature, you are dead wrong. Instead, here’s a spooky gravesite, even though I definitely just showed you one lonely man’s tomb already’.”

  Tariq grinned. “I love the embellishments and your impression of my voice. It’s striking. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so refined.”

  “So, what’s the story here?” she asked as she began to traipse the catacomb with slow, hesitant steps.

  “Um, I didn’t think there needed to be much of a story. This is a catacomb. It’s a subterranean passageway usually used as a burial place. But I tell you what, since I did my fair share of, well, sharing, in the last stop, how about you share something with me?”

  “I already told you my tidbit about the food thing,” she said, feeling suddenly bashful.

  “And that was definitely a gem, but I’d love to delve a little deeper, if possible.”

  She stared at the walls of stone that coldly encased them; creating an invisible force that made her feel crushed even within an open space. She looked around the wild collection of bones and began to wonder who these people had been. What story could possibly lead someone to be buried in a mass grave beneath the earth; or was it an honor to be rested there?

  Death was something that had shrouded her mind for months now, ever since her mother’s bout with her illness. It was as though, in that very moment, everything changed.

  Emily had heard the phrase used in books and movies in the past, but she’d never truly understood those life-changing moments until just a few months ago, when her whole world had been turned upside down. In that second, she’d realized that everything she’d ever felt toward her mother, every hurt feeling and moment of resentment, was all worthless. Nothing was worth losing her.

  In the months since, the two of them had gotten much closer, and Emily had s
tarted to feel facets of her personality come out that she’d never known were there before. Suddenly she needed to know everything from her mother; every piece of advice she could possibly muster. She asked her mother about men, work, dating, self-care, cooking. Anything that could help her later in life, she needed to know from her mother, before she lost her chance.

  “I had a really bad relationship with my parents,” Emily said finally, her fingers skimming the walls of the catacomb. She knew she probably shouldn’t be touching anything, but she couldn’t help feeling suddenly connected to the room.

  “Just another thing we have in common,” he responded.

  “My mom left my dad,” she said quietly. “One day it was ‘I love you’ and the next we literally skipped a state to get away from him.”

  “Ah,” he nodded slowly. “Sounds familiar.”

  Emily cringed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to draw a line between her parents’ breakup and Tariq leaving his fiancée. She bit her lip. “Not really. I mean, my parents had a child together. They were already married. You didn’t want to get married, and you didn’t trick your fiancée into marrying you just to bail later.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” He set his jaw and stared at her. “So why did your mom leave? Infidelity?”

  “I always thought so. Turns out, they just fell out of love with one another. They fought all the time; about money, about everything, really. I didn’t see it then, but it was probably for the best that they split up. Happier now, and all that.”

  “Do they get along now?”

  Emily made an exaggerated laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “No. No, no, no. Definitely not. But, they both moved on. My dad remarried. Mom is, well, she was sick for a while.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, and you know what’s weird? In that moment I just… It was like everything fell away.”

  “Sometimes the direst situations reveal the true desires of the heart.”

  She blinked and looked Tariq over, spinning on her heel to get a good look at him. “Which would be what, in my case?”

  “Well, you said you don’t date much.” He shrugged. “Maybe you were looking for a different kind of love.”

  “My mother’s?”

  “Why not? Parental love is important. How can you trust someone romantically when you don’t even feel like your own flesh and blood is unconditionally there for you?”

  She thought on that for a few moments before pursing her lips and nodding in agreement. “Good one, Freud. Thanks for the psychoanalyzing.”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “No, I’m serious. To begin with, the doctors didn’t know what was wrong. We were freaking out. They did all of these expensive tests and…” Emily could feel herself sharing too much. She clenched her teeth together and looked away from Tariq, pretending to explore the tombs with interest. “Anyway, it turns out it was appendicitis. Life-threatening, but brief, thank goodness. She’s okay now, but it was a rough one for a while there.”

  “I’m glad everything turned out okay, Emily.”

  “Yeah,” she said softly. Then she walked back over to the man who had taken her on a tour of his life and whispered, “Thanks.”

  ***

  After leaving the catacombs, Tariq called his personal car to come and pick them up so they wouldn’t have to wait for the bus. After a sumptuous late lunch at the Sheikh’s favorite local restaurant, the two of them made their way down to the shores of The Waking Sea—the beautiful waters they had glimpsed from the balcony of the Wasim House.

  Unlike the rest of the stops during the day, this one had no hype, no tourists, and no grand buildings to stand in awe of. The only thing there to entertain them was nature itself. The water rushed to shore in deep blue waves and a sound so peaceful she could feel her whole body relaxing just hearing it.

  Tariq sat down in the sand and invited Emily to join him. The two of them sat there, watching the crystal waters and taking in the sights and scent of the beach for a while before leaning back to lay in the sand and stare up at the setting sun. Hues of orange and pink littered the sky with colors that seemed to blend and swirl together, like splattered colors on an artist’s palette.

  Emily had never seen a sunset so beautiful in all her life. Yet, even with such a breathtaking scene in front of her, she still couldn’t help but focus her sights on Tariq. She turned her head on the sand, getting a better look at him. He was watching the sky, his beautiful jaw looking even sexier in the changing light of the sunset. Finally, he noticed her staring.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she repeated. “What a wonderful day.”

  “You, are wonderful,” he corrected. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, do you know that?”

  Emily’s face filled with its usual pink flush and she looked back up at the sky, suddenly self-conscious. Her eyes were blue-green in color, crystal clear with a darker blue, wavy design surrounding the pupil. A deep ocean, her mother used to say.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “You don’t take compliments well,” he mused.

  She shrugged, sand nestling into her neck as she did so. The feeling was warm and comfortable in a strange way, like she was that much more connected to the earth around her. She wasn’t usually like this—she was never the girl to lay in the sand or dig in the dirt. Too much hassle on laundry day.

  “Can I ask you something and hope it won’t have you heading for the hills?” Tariq asked, almost bashfully.

  “Sure.”

  “We only have a few hours left in my hometown and I was hoping—if it doesn’t seem too forward—maybe you would meet my parents for dinner?”

  Emily nearly squealed with delight; she wasn’t alone in her feelings toward the Sheikh. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something at the very core of her being felt strangely tied to this man—attracted in a profound way, both mentally and physically. She felt another wave of heat rush through her face and she could no longer hide her grin.

  “Can I take that beautiful smile as a yes?”

  “Yes, of course!” she said happily. “Are they, I mean will they… like me?”

  “What’s not to like,” he winked. “Shall we?”

  Auctioned To The Sheikh can be found on Amazon by clicking here.