The Sheikh's Bride Bargain (You Can't Turn Down a Sheikh Book 4)

by Holly Rayner

  She could evaluate his looks, though, and though she didn’t want him to see her checking him out, she shot a few sidelong glances his way. He would be several inches taller than her when they stood up, she thought. His skin was a deep bronze, and his hands, which rested on his knees, were big. She couldn’t see much of his face from this angle, but she noticed that he had a strong jawline. His hair was the only feature that was out of order—it looked as if he had tried to comb it in preparation for their date but had failed to make it lie flat. Dakota had to admit she was charmed.

  She waited for him to speak. Surely he would? They weren’t in neutral territory yet, after all. This was his family’s car, his family’s driver. Wasn’t it his responsibility to put her at ease here? But he seemed detached, almost disinterested, as they sped along through the streets of downtown Kezab.

  Finally, Dakota broke the silence. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “A steakhouse.”

  Silence reigned once more. Apparently, he didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

  Disgruntled, Dakota settled herself back against the seat and turned her gaze out the window. She knew Kezab well after five years of living in the city, but as the driver took another turn, she realized they were heading into a part of town she’d never been to before. Was it possible the bin Ayads had known that? Was the choice of restaurant deliberate, meant to make her feel uncomfortable? Or was she reading into things?

  It had to be her imagination. There was no way the bin Ayads could have known which restaurants the Lees frequented. And even if they had, Dakota reasoned, they had as much at stake here as her family did. They must want this meeting to go well. There was no reason they would sabotage it.

  The car came to a halt outside a fancy looking place with a canopied walkway leading up to its front door. Majeed got out of the car. Dakota did the same, following his lead, but as she pushed her door open it caught him in the torso. He had come around to her side, and she’d caught him reaching for the handle, about to open the door for her.

  “Oh,” she said, watching him rub at the shoulder she’d clipped. “Sorry.”

  “Never mind,” said Majeed, but he sounded irked. At his tone, Dakota’s own irritation mounted. Had he expected her to just sit in the car, waiting to be let out? What was this, 1950?

  Majeed led the way up the canopied walk to the restaurant door. A hostess in a black cocktail dress stood behind a podium, and when she saw them approaching, she broke out into a dazzling smile. “Welcome back, Mr. bin Ayad!”

  “Thank you, Yara.” Majeed made a little bow, and Dakota seethed. So the bin Ayads were regulars here. She had been right. Rather than going along with the original agreement to meet at her family’s home, they had brought her out to a location that was obviously more their ground than hers. She ought to have trusted her mother’s suspicion and refused to leave the house with the driver when he’d asked. Now it was too late.

  Yara stopped at a small table for two beside a window, and Dakota pulled out a chair and sank into it before Majeed could try to do it for her. She sipped her water, trying to settle her nerves. She had promised her family that she would give this a try. She couldn’t refuse the arrangement simply because Majeed had brought her to a restaurant and tried to open a door for her, she rationalized. She was being hasty. And he was attractive…maybe the meal would smooth things over.

  “So,” she said to Majeed, “I guess you come here often.”

  “Well, it’s the best restaurant in the city,” he said. “Very exclusive. We were only able to get a lunch reservation on short notice by using my father’s name.”

  Dakota frowned. Although her own father’s name opened many doors, she wasn’t a fan of gaining privileges that way. The idea that Majeed had been trying to impress her by trading on his father’s power was almost as disconcerting as the idea that he was simply trying to throw her off by bringing her somewhere she would feel uncomfortable. “What’s so great about it?” she asked.

  Majeed raised an eyebrow. “The food,” he said coolly. “They have a world-famous chef. You can’t get a better steak anywhere.”

  Dakota was hard pressed not to roll her eyes. “I bet you could in Texas.”

  “Have you ever been to Texas?”

  “Have you?”

  “You haven’t,” he said, dismissively. “Why are you determined not to like this place?”

  “I’m not,” she said, knowing as she said it that he’d made a point.

  “Try the steak,” he said. “Then decide.”

  Dakota picked up the menu and opened it, intending to scan for the various steak options, but to her surprise, she found the writing was all in Arabic. Baraq was a bilingual country; its inhabitants spoke both Arabic and English, and most restaurants and retailers used both languages. Dakota set the menu back down and looked up at Majeed, who was perusing his own.

  “I can’t read Arabic,” she admitted.

  His eyes widened. “You can’t?”

  “No.”

  “Haven’t you been living here for five years?”

  “So?”

  “How can you not have learned? You’re a communications executive.”

  Dakota was momentarily impressed that he knew what she did for work, but the feeling was fleeting. How dare he insult her?

  “It’s a hard language to learn!” she said. “And everything’s written in English here, anyway. Besides, I know how to speak it.” This was a bit of an overstatement—Dakota knew enough Arabic to communicate with people who didn’t speak English, but there was usually a lot of stopping and starting, and she knew her grammar wasn’t perfect.

  Majeed shook his head. “English is a hard language, and I know how to speak it.”

  “Because you grew up speaking it. It’s easier to learn a language when you’re young; everybody knows that.”

  “Everybody also knows that Americans never bother to learn anyone else’s language,” Majeed said.

  “How many Americans do you even know?”

  “Every American I’ve ever met has spoken to me in English,” Majeed said. “And I’ll bet most Baraqis you’ve met have addressed you in English, too, even though you’re the foreigner here, because that’s how Americans are.”

  “Well, if you knew that,” Dakota snapped, “why did you bring me to a restaurant where the menu was entirely in Arabic?”

  “Because it has the best steaks,” Majeed said calmly.

  Infuriated, Dakota turned back to her menu and took several deep breaths. He thinks he’s so much better than me, she thought, just because he’s bilingual, just because his father is a sheikh and can get reservations at some steakhouse no one’s ever even heard of on one day’s notice. He’s nothing special. So what if he’s attractive? He’s a stuck-up jerk!

  “Do you mind not breathing so loudly?” Majeed said. “People are staring.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re huffing and puffing.” And, to Dakota’s utter mortification, Majeed now began to mimic her, taking exaggerated deep breaths.

  “Who do you think you are?” she asked him. “You’re being really rude right now.”

  “I’m being rude? You disparaged my choice of restaurant. You hit me with a car door.”

  “That was an accident.”

  “Do you argue with everything everyone says to you?”

  “Has nobody in your life ever disagreed with you before?”

  Yara reappeared, a bottle of wine in hand. “Our finest house wine.”

  Majeed and Dakota fell into an awkward, uncomfortable silence as she poured. It was a red wine. Dakota would have preferred white, but she felt she couldn’t speak up about it. If she did, Majeed was sure to point out that she was being rude or disagreeable again.

  The meal did not improve from there. Since Dakota was unable to read the menu, she was forced to allow Majeed to order for her. She noticed that he seemed to take great pleasure in this, looking imperiously over the top of his own men
u as he made his selections. When her filet medallions arrived and she took the first bite, she found herself fighting to resist the expression of satisfaction that threatened to pass over her face. She couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing he’d chosen well.

  Every topic they tried to discuss led them into trouble. With what appeared to be a stab at courtesy, Majeed asked Dakota about her education, but he seemed unable to maintain any semblance of respect when she told him about her double major in business and philosophy.

  “What a waste of study,” he said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent, and Dakota’s rage burned hotter. All right, so her philosophy degree wasn’t of much practical use, but she had enjoyed the classes and the way they had taught her to question her ideas about the world. She turned the question back on Majeed and discovered that he and his siblings had been privately tutored all their lives.

  “It really is the best way to learn,” Majeed said, carefully cutting a bite of his steak, “because the teacher can address the specific needs of each student.”

  No wonder he’s never learned how to get along with people, Dakota thought.

  To her astonishment, he seemed to find her just as irritating and unlikeable as she found him. It transpired that not learning foreign languages was the tip of the iceberg when it came to things she and her fellow Americans did wrong. He winced each time she raised a bite of steak to her mouth, making a production of slicing and taking his own bites—fork tines always pointed downward—as if to model the correct way of doing it for her. This bothered Dakota so much that she chewed with her mouth open on the next bite just to get back at him, and indeed, he seemed horrorstruck.

  For dessert, Yara brought out a crème brûlée for two. This arrangement had clearly been made before the disastrous dinner had begun—neither Dakota nor Majeed felt like sharing a romantic dessert now, and they sat glaring at each other across the table. “You might as well eat that,” Dakota said finally. “I’m full.”

  “You could have a bite,” Majeed retorted. “It would be the gracious thing to do.”

  “Well, I’m not gracious, I suppose. Hasn’t that been kind of the theme today?”

  To her surprise, Majeed laughed. “This hasn’t been a very successful date, has it.”

  Dakota sighed. “Not really.”

  “We might as well enjoy the crème brûlée,” he said. “It really is very good, and I see no reason to deprive ourselves.”

  She had to admit he had a point, and when she had taken the first bite, she was glad she hadn’t let her stubbornness get in the way. “You were right about this place,” she admitted. “It was nice. I, well…”

  “You had a good time?” Majeed said, smiling at his own joke.

  “I had a good meal.” Dakota smiled back. “Thank you. Really.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he nodded. “But I don’t believe this marriage is going to be a good fit.”

  Dakota shook her head, half amused, half resigned. “What do we do now? Are they going to set me up with one of your brothers or something?”

  “No,” Majeed said. “In my family, the oldest son has to be the first to marry. Unless your brother would like to marry my sister.”

  “He has a girlfriend,” Dakota said. “It was me or no one.”

  “Then I suppose we’ll just have to think of something else to satisfy the Emir’s demand,” Majeed said. “It’s a good thing he gave us the week.”

  “Will your family be angry?” Dakota asked.

  “They might,” Majeed said. “My father was very excited by this suggestion. He felt it was the perfect way to get us out of the trouble we’re in. He really doesn’t want to lose his title.”

  Majeed looked dejected, and for a moment, Dakota felt sorry for him. Was she being too hasty in turning this down? It was just a business arrangement, after all.

  He got to his feet. “Shall we go and get the car?”

  “Don’t we have to pay?” Dakota asked.

  “My family has a tab here,” Majeed said. “It’s taken care of.”

  Show off, Dakota thought, but a moment later it occurred to her that she had asked him about paying. He hadn’t forced the information on her. Had she expected him to lie?

  She followed him out the door and back to the car, wondering what her family would say when she told them how the date had gone. They were probably still sitting around the living room, hoping against hope that she had somehow fallen instantly in love with Majeed so they would be able to go through with the marriage and actually feel good about it.

  But we agreed, she reminded herself as the car sped along. We all agreed we wouldn’t do it unless Majeed and I wanted to. And we don’t. Everyone will just have to accept that.

  Chapter 5

  “You’re just going to have to go ahead with the marriage,” Ben Lee said.

  Dakota gaped at her father. She had just finished debriefing her family on the disastrous events of the date, making sure to emphasize just how poorly she and Majeed had gotten along. She was sure she’d told the story properly. How could he even think of making her go through with it after that?

  Ben read the look on her face. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said, “but I got off the phone with the Sheikh shortly before you arrived home, and he and his family are committed to this. And I have to say, Dakota, for once I think he has the right idea. We’ve finally found the right course of action to publicly unite us with the bin Ayads and put all this messy feuding behind us.”

  “The right course of action?” Dakota sputtered. “Are you serious? I just told you how badly it went. We couldn’t even share a meal without fighting, and you expect us to share our whole lives?”

  “If this family is important to you…”

  “Dad, that is so unfair. You know this family is important to me. I moved halfway around the world to work for LeeWay Corp. I’ve sacrificed any semblance of a normal personal life so I can devote long hours to my job. Not to mention,” she added, scowling, “I’m never the one who gets thrown out of parties or causes a scene. I’m always the one who cleans up after the rest of the family. Don’t stand there and tell me I still need to prove to you that family is important to me.”

  “Dakota, your father’s right,” Anne said. “We know what you do, honey, and we appreciate it, but this is the step that has to be taken now, and you’re the only one who can do it.”

  “Dylan can do it.”

  “Dylan has—”

  “I don’t care if he has a girlfriend! Maybe I would have a boyfriend if I didn’t spend all my time working, has anybody thought of that? Maybe it’s Dylan’s turn to step up since it’s his fault we’re in this mess in the first place.”

  “Hey,” Dylan objected. “I didn’t mean to spill that drink.”

  “Did you mean to push the Sheikh?”

  “He pushed me first.”

  “Enough,” Ben barked. “Dylan can’t do it, Dakota, because Ubaid bin Ayad isn’t offering his daughter. He’s offering his son. Maybe if we had proposed the idea of Dylan marrying Karida first, he would have gone for it, but he’s committed now to the idea of you and Majeed. He tells me Majeed is very excited about the wedding.”

  Dakota scoffed. “Majeed doesn’t want to marry me. He told me so at lunch.”

  “Well, apparently he’s telling his father something different now.”

  “He’s afraid of his father,” Dakota said. “He told me he was worried his family would be mad at him when he explained that he didn’t want to go through with the wedding. They’re probably bullying him into it. I know he doesn’t want it.”

  “That’s their problem,” Dylan said.

  Dakota whirled on her older brother. She couldn’t believe he was taking their parents’ side. As much trouble as Dylan often caused her in the press, she could usually rely on him to be in her corner. “So you support this too?” she demanded.

  Dylan looked a little guilty, but he shrugged. “Wouldn’t you rather plan a wedding than kee
p going to press conferences and talking us out of trouble?”

  “Sure, if it was just planning a wedding,” Dakota snapped. “You’re not asking me to be this man’s wedding planner, you’re asking me to be his wife!”

  “But you don’t have to do anything,” Anne said hurriedly. “I mean, in terms of, you know…”

  “You’re saying I don’t have to sleep with him? Does he know that?”

  “Of course. Nobody’s going to force anything. This is for appearance’s sake.”

  Frustrated, Dakota dropped into a chair. It was all very well for them to say this was just to keep up appearances, but they weren’t the ones who would have to sign their lives over to the bin Ayads. In order to make a convincing show of marriage, even if Dakota wasn’t sleeping with Majeed, she would certainly have to live with him. She would have to relinquish the possibility of dating anyone else. Not that I’m doing that anyway, she thought, somewhat bitterly. And on top of that she would have to integrate herself fully into the bin Ayad family, whom she had never liked.

  “There’s no point in putting up a fuss about it,” Ben said firmly. “I’ve already told Ubaid that you’ll see his son again. He’s going to contact us in a few days to arrange your next meeting. And, Dakota, I expect you to make an effort this time.”

  Dakota didn’t know what to say. Was her father actually suggesting that she hadn’t made an effort this time? It was outrageous. She had gone into the meeting with every intention of giving Majeed bin Ayad a fair shot—which was a lot more, she thought angrily, than anyone had a right to expect of her. An arranged marriage was a huge sacrifice on her part, but she had been all set to bite the bullet and be the bigger person for her family’s sake. Didn’t they realize that even if she’d gotten along perfectly well with Majeed, she would be giving up a huge part of her life for them? They should be thanking her on bended knee! And hadn’t they promised that if she didn’t hit it off with Majeed, they wouldn’t force her to go through with it?

  And since when was her father on a first name basis with Sheikh bin Ayad? Ubaid. It was as if they were friends or something. As if years of enmity had already been laid to rest. For the first time, Dakota felt truly on the outside of her own family. They were siding with the bin Ayads against her.