The Sheik and I

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Piper didn’t answer immediately, and then she said slowly, “That’s more than one question.”

  Frustrated, Cassandra said, “Well, pick one.”

  “All right.” Piper took a deep breath. “Yes. The answer is yes.”

  “Which—”

  “I have to go,” Piper interrupted. “Your father’s calling. I promised him a sandwich before bedtime.”

  “But—”

  “Good night, darling. I love you.”

  The line went dead, and Cassandra was left holding a receiver. She stared at the receiver for a moment, as if that stare might bring her mother back. She needed real concrete answers to her questions, not a simple, single and nonspecific word. Soon there was a soft click, and the sound of a dial tone took the place of her mother’s voice.

  Cassandra replaced the phone on her cradle and fell back to the bed with a gentle bounce. Yes. Which question had her mother been answering with that one-word response? It didn’t really matter, did it? A yes to any one of the questions pointed her in the same direction.

  But Cassandra wasn’t like her mother, or her elder sisters, where men were concerned. She didn’t have their sense of adventure, their sense of confidence, their love of all things romantic. She was more cautious than the other female Kleins.

  She was also the only one sleeping alone tonight.

  Chapter 6

  When Cassandra stopped her car at the Redmond Estate gates the next morning, three photographers started snapping away. She maintained her composure, and even turned her head toward the cameras for a moment to offer a professional and cool smile. She could not let them see that she was affected by their silly photographs and articles. She remained calm, even when one of the photographers winked and grinned in a suggestive way. Why did she get the feeling he was the one who’d snapped the picture of her bare legs?

  Today the suit she wore was her most severe. The blouse was high-necked and the skirt hem fell well below her knee. The color was a limpid gray-green. Ms. Dunn adored this particular suit, and complimented Cassandra every time she wore it.

  When the gates opened, she managed a small and dismissive wave for the photographers—even the smarmy one.

  Cassandra was greeted at the door by a flustered Oscar, and walked into a foyer that was crowded with suitcases and one very large trunk.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They’re leaving,” Oscar said, obviously fretting. “I’m afraid I must’ve done something to offend them. Oh, it’s all my fault. That one very large man, Jib…Jib…”

  “Jibril,” Cassandra said.

  “Yes, I don’t think he likes me. I offended him somehow, though I don’t know what I might’ve done. They’re angry because I helped the sheik escape for a while yesterday. I never should’ve done that.” Oscar wrung wrinkled hands. “The sheik is the boss, I understand that, but if the others are angry with me, then he can’t very well remain here. He’s angry, too. Oh, he’s in such a foul mood this morning, and it must be my fault. I failed at my job, and that’s why they’re all leaving.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Cassandra patted the old man’s arm as she walked by. “I’m sure they’re not going anywhere.” The luggage said otherwise, but surely there was an explanation. “I have a tour of Silverton-upon-Kairn planned for today, and tomorrow…”

  Kadir walked into the foyer, immediately claiming her full attention. Her heart fluttered…and she convinced herself it was because he had startled her with his brisk entrance.

  “I’m afraid we won’t be here tomorrow,” he said crisply. Judging by the expression on his face, Oscar had been correct in his assessment of Kadir’s mood. “As I have been informed that Lord Carrington is out of the country and will not return until shortly before the gala, there’s no need for me to stay here.”

  Kadir walked toward one of the larger suitcases and Cassandra followed, her sensible heels clacking on the tile floor. “I’m sorry, Excellency. I had no idea Lord Carrington was leaving the country.”

  He turned and looked down at her, raising his eyebrows slightly at her formal use of the term Excellency. Still, others were listening. Well, Oscar was listening, and she had no desire to become the subject of estate staff gossip.

  “There’s no need to fly home,” she said sensibly. “I have many activities planned for the coming two weeks. There’s much more to Silvershire than a single meeting with Lord Carrington.”

  “I’m not going home,” Kadir said. “My yacht is anchored in Leonia Bay, and I’m going to stay there for several days. I’m sorry to ruin your plans, but…” He glanced up, and Cassandra followed his gaze. Oscar had left the room, and they were truly alone—at least for the moment. “I’m not good at pretending, Cassandra,” Kadir said in a lowered voice. “I don’t believe I can see you each and every day and pretend that I don’t want more than you’re willing to give. This is for the best.”

  Since no one was watching, and there were no photographers nearby, she boldly looked him in the eye. “You’re running away.”

  “Yes.”

  Cassandra shook her head in frustration. “Don’t you understand that running will only make matters worse? People will assume that we either had a lover’s spat, or that we’re trying to pretend nothing happened.”

  His expression turned fierce. “I am trying to pretend that nothing happened!”

  “Yes, but we can’t look as if we’re pretending.”

  “Cassandra…”

  “Kadir.”

  When she said his name his expression softened. “You’re testing me,” he accused in a lowered voice.

  “No, of course not.” She was, however, very much testing herself. “Leonia is a lovely village. There are several nice restaurants in the area, and the view is lovely. It’s a popular spot for a holiday.”

  “You’ve been there.”

  “My sister has a cottage just outside town. She’s on vacation and has offered me the use of her home while she’s away, so I have a place to stay while you live on your yacht. I’ll continue to serve as your aide, of course, and we’ll tour the area if you’d like. We can even go fishing. The photographers who are currently waiting outside the estate might follow, but within three days they will all be gone, because we won’t give them anything interesting to photograph and nothing else ever happens in Leonia.”

  “Your plan is to bore them into leaving us alone.”

  “Precisely.” It seemed like a logical enough plan, even worded so plainly.

  Kadir looked her up and down, taking in the shoes, the conservative suit, the tightly restrained hair. “You will pack clothing more suitable for fishing than this dismal outfit?”

  Dismal was a little harsh as a word choice to describe her suit, but…“Yes, of course.”

  Kadir studied her for a long moment, and she felt as if he were testing her somehow. He wanted distance from her. Distance would ruin her career. If he dumped her here while he went to his yacht for the duration of this visit, she’d be viewed as a failure. This was her most important assignment ever, and the man she’d been charged to assist couldn’t run away from her.

  “Go home and pack a bag,” Kadir finally said. “We leave in one hour.”

  She almost did as he instructed, but a shimmer of warning stopped her. It looked as if the sheik and his entourage were ready to leave now. She couldn’t take the chance that he’d leave her behind and she’d be forced to follow him to Leonia. She shouldn’t be put in a position where she had to chase Kadir across the countryside.

  “My sister and I wear the same size,” Cassandra said. And there was a very nice little shop in town where she could buy those things she did not wish to borrow. Underwear, toothbrush, makeup—all the essentials. “I can leave whenever you’re ready.” She gave Kadir a professional smile.

  Maybe he wanted to be rid of her, but she couldn’t make herself easy to shake off. Besides, he’d soon realize that she was indispensable—as a political aide, of course.

&nb
sp; Leonia Bay was indeed beautiful. Kadir had always loved being near the ocean, and he looked forward to settling in on his yacht.

  But not right away, apparently. Cassandra offered a quick tour of the village, and he could not turn her down. Sayyid and Haroun accompanied them, while the others took a skiff weighted down with luggage to the yacht.

  Only one of the photographers followed on the long trip from Silverton to Leonia, his older-model car keeping pace on the winding road. The others apparently thought they’d have a better chance of taking a marketable photo in the capital city. Cassandra was obviously concerned about the lone photographer. She didn’t say so, of course, but her eyes flitted to the car often, and Kadir could see the worry in her eyes.

  A woman like her should never have to worry. She should be pampered and protected and given all that she desired.

  Haroun drove the conspicuous limousine through the picturesque town, and Sayyid kept a sharp eye on those they drove past. Tourists, retired couples, children…there was no obvious danger here. After making a quick stop at a small shop, they simply rode around for a while. Cassandra pointed out several interesting shops, a bakery that made wonderful cookies and fresh bread, the restaurants she preferred and a small museum that was very much unlike the Maitland Museum of Fine Arts in Silverton. This one was nautical in nature, and was not much bigger than the foyer of the Redmond Estate. Cassandra’s dialogue was lively and professional and somewhat distant, considering that he still remembered what she’d tasted like just yesterday.

  Kadir didn’t understand Cassandra Klein, and he was a man who usually understood women quite well. She kissed like a woman who was interested in more than politics and propriety, and then she acted as if they had never kissed at all. She dressed conservatively, even gloomily, and yet now and then there was an intriguing gleam in her gray eyes that was anything but conservative or gloomy.

  It had been a very long time since he’d met a woman who could take his mind entirely off his mission—and that was not a good thing. It would have been better if he’d left the Redmond Estate before her arrival this morning, as he had planned. Now that she was here, how was he going to get rid of her?

  And he did need to get rid of her somehow. He could not possibly spend the next two weeks pretending that he didn’t want her.

  They ate lunch at a small, outdoor café that looked over the bay, drawing stares—since they were not dressed as the other tourists were, and Sayyid and Haroun were obviously bodyguards, not friends or guests. The photographer who had followed them from Silverton took a number of photographs, but the scene they presented was boring, as Cassandra had planned. To any eye, the lunch was purely professional.

  The photographer soon turned his attention to different subjects—the sea, a pretty girl, three siblings who looked remarkably alike, but for their size. There was much beauty, many scenes of interest to an artist or a photographer in this small village. As the man with the camera wandered away from the café, Cassandra relaxed visibly.

  She was very beautiful when she relaxed, and Kadir wished for his own camera to capture the expression on her face. Would he remember this moment clearly enough?

  Cassandra was intent on keeping him busy throughout the day. Fishing was next on her list of things to do. She assured Kadir that her sister had all the proper equipment at her cottage. As they left the café she watched for the photographer to follow. He didn’t. A pretty girl in a skimpy bathing suit had grabbed his attention, at least for the moment.

  The cottage Cassandra spoke of was rather isolated, located just beyond the edge of town and very near an outcropping of rocks that met the ocean waves. It was plain but neat, consisting of a main room, a kitchen, two bedrooms and two baths. All the rooms were large, which made the entire cottage feel airy and comfortable.

  After checking the cottage thoroughly, Sayyid and Haroun positioned themselves at the entrances—Haroun on the front porch, Sayyid at the back door. Cassandra put on a pot of coffee, then disappeared into one of the bedrooms. After watching the closed door for a long moment, Kadir went to the wide window that looked out over the sea. The waves soothed him, as they often did, and he tried to take his mind off of Cassandra.

  He knew how to be rid of her once and for all, but could he do it? Did he dare? It was not in his nature to be cruel, especially when he cared more than he should for the subject of that cruelty. And yet he had to do something. He had to take the matter in hand.

  Cassandra exited the bedroom a few short minutes later, and he couldn’t help but smile. She wore blue jeans that had been rolled up to just beneath her knees, tennis shoes with no socks and a pink T-shirt that advertised a local café—the very one where they’d eaten lunch. Her hair had been pulled back into a long, loose ponytail, and she looked years younger. She looked carefree and relaxed.

  It was quite a transformation.

  “I think these will fit you,” she said, offering him a stack of clothes on outstretched arms. What she presented was worn blue jeans, much like hers, as well as a T-shirt. His was beige instead of pink. A pair of canvas shoes, stuffed with white socks, sat on top of the stack. He might’ve sent one of the bodyguards to the yacht to collect proper clothing for the afternoon’s activities, but Cassandra had insisted it was not necessary. “They belong to Lexie’s boyfriend, or one of her ex-husbands. I’m not sure which one, but they’re more suitable for fishing than what you’re wearing.”

  The suit he wore was dark and conservative and expensive, and definitely not intended for sea spray and live bait.

  Cassandra glanced toward the front door. “Will your bodyguards want to fish with us? I can find old clothing for them, as well….”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Kadir said as he headed for the bathroom so he could change his clothes. In order for his plan to get rid of Cassandra to work, he needed his bodyguards at a distance.

  Cassandra hadn’t been fishing in many years, but she still remembered how, for the most part. Kadir was very comfortable with a rod and reel, decked out in someone else’s jeans and a snug-fitting T-shirt. When the wind caught his hair and blew it away from his face, and he looked so intent on his chore, he was quite fetching.

  If a man could be fetching, that is, and if she could afford to notice. Which she couldn’t.

  Lexie’s cottage was wonderfully secluded, so she didn’t worry about curious eyes watching or listening. Well, other than Kadir’s bodyguards, that is, and they weren’t close enough to hear anything that was said. They remained alert, but the serenity of this place soothed even them, and she could almost forget that there were those who wanted Kadir dead, and these bodyguards were not a luxury but a necessity.

  “Do you come here often?” Kadir asked, his eyes on the ocean.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  So, he wanted to add conversation to their fishing. It would be tricky, to be friendly with him without allowing things to proceed beyond friendly. “Lexie and I don’t always get along. She and I are…very different.” And that was putting it mildly.

  “I have a villa on the ocean. Even in the worst of times, the water soothes me. I’m not sure why.” Kadir sounded almost wistful, which surprised her. “I would rather be on my yacht than anywhere else in the world.” He turned his head and looked at her, with those dark, bedroom eyes. “The living quarters are small, but very nice. You’d like them.” For a long moment he was very thoughtful, and then he reeled in his line and turned to Sayyid. One step, and the bodyguard was all but rushing to meet him. The two men spoke in low tones, and it appeared that they were arguing with one another. And then, much to Cassandra’s surprise, both bodyguards left.

  Sayyid cast more than one glance back, but he and Haroun eventually got into the limo and drove back toward town.

  “Where are they going?” Cassandra asked.

  “Back to the yacht.”

  “But…”

  “The photographer who followed us was left behind in town, snapping
pictures of pretty girls and soothing scenery. No one knew in advance that I was coming here today. By tomorrow, word will be out, and anyone who knows the yacht is anchored here will arrive, and the possibility of danger will be real once again. But for today, just for today, no one knows where I am.” His eyes on the ocean once again, he appeared to breathe deeper. He actually seemed to relax.

  “How will you get back to the yacht?” Cassandra asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll call a taxi, or maybe I’ll walk. A skiff will be left for me at the pier where we unloaded the luggage. That’s no more than a mile from here, if I remember correctly. A pleasant enough walk.”

  They didn’t catch anything at all, but the atmosphere was much more relaxed with the bodyguards gone. Kadir truly did look to be lost in the beauty of the ocean. In his position, did he have many truly free moments like this one? Probably not.

  She wanted peaceful moments for Kadir, not because he was her first really big assignment, not because he was trying to change the state of his country for the better, not because his position was very much what she envisioned for herself, one day. She wanted him to have peaceful moments because she liked him. Not for the position he held, not for his dedication to making Kahani a better place. She liked him. His smile, his bedroom eyes, the way he kissed.

  Time didn’t stand still as they stood on the rocks and fished, but it did pass more slowly. Cassandra’s heart rate slowed, and she breathed deeper than usual, taking in the sea air. The waves had a soothing rhythm that seemed to take on the cadence of her heart as she stood on the rocks and relaxed. It was very nice, and very real, and whether she would admit it or not, she liked simply being with Kadir, for a while.