Marrying the Scarred Sheikh

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Marrying the Scarred Sheikh Page 13

by Barbara McMahon


  “Come and get it.”

  “I’m not that dumb.”

  “No one said you were dumb,” he said, reaching out to catch her.

  She laughed but came willingly into his arms. “Khalid, you are the dangerous one,” she said just before he kissed her.

  The next morning Khalid stood on the veranda on the side of the house nearest Ella’s cottage, looking toward the sea. He’d had breakfast early, checked in with the office and debated taking a consulting job that had been offered or sending his second in command. The time away would give him some perspective. Last night replayed itself like an endless film. He should have pushed for more. But his respect for Ella wouldn’t allow him to press for more than she wanted. And it appeared as if kisses were the limit of her willingness.

  He should take the job.

  “The maid said I’d find you here,” Rashid said behind him.

  Khalid turned. His casual clothes contrasted with the Western suit and tie that Rashid wore.

  “And she was right. What’s up?” he asked his brother.

  “Just came by to see you.” Rashid pulled a chair away from the small table and removed his suit jacket, hanging it across the back. Sitting, he looked at his brother, eyebrows raised in silent question.

  Khalid came across and pulled out another chair, sitting opposite his twin.

  “I heard from an oil company in Egypt. They want us to come vet their new well.”

  “Are you going?” Rashid asked.

  Khalid shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “You usually jump at foreign assignments.”

  “I’ve been to Egypt before.”

  “More than once. Maybe your new fiancée is keeping you closer to home.”

  “I don’t need that from you. You know the entire thing escalated out of hand. Damn, I was only trying to help out my tenant. I told you.”

  Rashid smiled at that. “Right. Somehow I guess I forgot.”

  “Like you ever would. Is that why you’re here? To rehash the entire affair?”

  “Ah, you’ve moved on to an affair now.”

  “No, I have not. I stepped in to try to keep her family from pressuring her. Once her brother leaves, end of story.” He rose and paced to the edge of the stone floor, then turned back.

  “What would you have done?” he asked.

  “The same thing, I’m sure. Actually I came by to see if you were at all interested in her. She seemed devoted to you last night. Maybe this could develop into something good.”

  The scene in the water and on the sand flashed into mind. Khalid wasn’t sharing that with his brother, twin bond or not. “An act.” Had it all been an act? He hoped not.

  “A suggestion only—” Rashid began.

  “What?” Khalid felt his barriers rise.

  “Give the relationship a chance. She’s a nice woman. Talented, pretty. She loved the country, gave up her family for her first husband. Is loyal.”

  “Makes her sound like a dog or something.”

  “I’m trying to get through to you that not everyone is Damara. She was shallow and superficial and at the first setback fled. In retrospect, you got a lucky break. What if you were married and she couldn’t stay for the long haul.”

  “I’m sure she felt she caught the lucky break.” He turned back to gaze at the sea, remembering the scene in the hospital—he so doped up because of the searing pain and the one person beside his twin he thought he could count on instead shredding their relationship. As he watched the water sparkle beneath the sun, that image was replaced with a scene from last night: Ella’s splashing him and then laughing.

  Ella kissing his damaged skin. Ella.

  More than anything, he loved her laugh.

  Scowling at his thoughts, he turned back to Rashid.

  “I’m taking off. The job in Egypt will last a couple of weeks at least.”

  “Give my suggestion some thought.”

  “There’s nothing like that between us. She needed help. I gave it. She’s locked into the cottage legally—nothing I can do to get rid of her before the lease expires. We’ll muddle through. Not everyone is like you. Enjoy what you have with Bethanne. Don’t try to find a happy ending here.”

  Rashid rose, slung his jacket over his shoulder and looked at his brother. “Okay. I gave it a shot. Your life is yours. Just don’t screw it up any more than you can help.”

  Khalid laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Once Rashid left, he went to the study and called his office. “Make the arrangements…I’ll leave this afternoon,” he told his assistant.

  Ella had expected to hear from Khalid, but he had not sent word for her to come to the main house, nor visited. She kept busy sorting the glass pieces, pleased to study some and find they were better quality than she remembered. Stepping back a bit helped her gain perspective. The piece might not have attained her vision for it, but it was still good.

  She had early pieces grouped together. Later ones separated. Definitely an improvement in the later ones. Maybe she should have a seconds sale—knock off the prices of the earlier less-than-perfect pieces. But only after she had started selling.

  The pictures she had taken in the house looked great. She’d see about contacting a printer to make them into a booklet.

  As much as she tried to concentrate on work, she was on tenterhooks for Khalid. Last night had been amazing. She’d hated to go home alone.

  But this morning—nothing.

  Finally she took a light lunch on her veranda. Maybe she should just go over and find out what he was doing. Or if he had gone into his office today. It was a workday after all. She’d gotten used to his being available whenever she wanted. How spoiled was that?

  She refused to hang around like some lovelorn idiot. She had her own life. If it coincided with his once in a while, so much the better.

  The day seemed to last forever. She cleaned her small cottage. Did a load of laundry, even cooked dinner which was not something she often did. Finally—it was dark. Normally she walked after eleven, but even though it was scarcely past nine, she couldn’t wait.

  She headed for the beach. No sign of Khalid. She knew she was early. Slowly she walked to the water’s edge. She’d wait.

  Which wasn’t easy to do when every nerve clamored for him. She sat on the warm sand, the water lapping the beach a few feet from her toes. Picking up handfuls of sand, she let it slip between her fingers. Last night had been surreal. One part at the party Khalid’s mother had given. The other—the real part—had been swimming in the warm sea. She smiled remembering how much fun she’d had. How much she liked being with Khalid.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she wondered what time it was. How long before he came?

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE next morning Ella headed to her studio, firmly intending to push all thoughts of a certain sheikh from her mind. It did not take a two-by-four hitting her on the side of the head to get it. He had not shown at the beach last night. When she finally gave up and returned home, all lights in the main house were off. Had he gone out?

  It didn’t matter. He was merely her landlord. Nothing else. She would not let herself believe there was something special between them. If there was any special feelings, they were obviously one-sided—on her side.

  Now she was going to focus on her career and leave all men out of the equation until she was firmly on the path to money. Next place she lived, she wanted to own. To be able to come and go when she pleased and not worry about someone trying to evict her because of their own agenda.

  Firing up the oven, she chose the glass shards carefully, then melted the different colors, picking them up one at a time on her wand. Slowly the glasses melded and when she began shaping the blob, she was pleased with the greens and blues and turquoise that began to show through. Taking her time, concentrating on the task at hand, Ella fashioned a large flat plate.

  It was early afternoon when she was satisfied and put the art piece in her an
nealer. Stretching to work out the kinks in knotted muscles, she went to the cottage for lunch. For the first time in hours her mind flipped to Khalid. Where was he? Despite her vow to refrain from thinking about him, now she could think of nothing else.

  She wished he’d stroll around the corner of the veranda on which she sat and smile that lopsided smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes and caused her to catch her breath. Saunter over and sit casually in the chair, his dark eyes sending shivers down her spine as she lost herself in them.

  She was becoming too involved with the man. He’d made it clear he was not interested in any relationship—short or long-term—and she’d do best to remember that.

  Yet when she remembered the fun they’d had playing in the water, the drugging kisses that had her clamoring for more, it was hard to believe. Didn’t actions speak louder than words? His actions showed he liked her. She wanted to spend more time with him. It was the first time since Alexander’s death she’d had such an interest in anyone. Khalid was special. She felt stirred up every time they were together. When apart, she longed to see him again. Even if he never did more than talk about his work, she relished the moments together.

  Frowning, she sat back in her chair and gazed toward the sea. She had a small glimpse of it from this place on her veranda. Normally it soothed. Today, however, she was more worried than before. She could not be falling for the man. She could list a dozen reasons why that would be such a bad idea—starting with she could get her heart broken.

  Yet, testing her feelings as she might test a toothache, she had to admit there were a lot of similarities to falling in love. She wanted to be with him. Felt alive in his presence. Knew he was very special. Yet she didn’t believe he was perfect. He could be short-tempered at times. And his idea that no one would ever find him attractive because of the scar was dumb. Sure, it was disfiguring, but he was more than a swatch of skin on the right side of his face and neck.

  When he spoke to her, she felt like she was the only person in the world. The flare of attraction wasn’t dying down. His kisses spiked her senses like nothing else had. And his protective view was intriguing. Her own family didn’t feel that obligation, yet he’d stepped in without being asked to try to thwart her brother’s goal.

  She leaned back in the chair, trying to relax. She should just go along with things—pretend to be engaged and see what happened. Only it was hard to play that part when half the couple had vanished.

  Perhaps vanished was a bit strong, she argued. He had not come to the beach last night nor stopped by today. He had no need to. Except she wanted him to.

  She jumped up and cleared her dishes. After rinsing them off, she changed into a cool sundress, brushed her hair and headed for the main house.

  Jalilah answered the door to her ring.

  “Madame Ponti,” she said politely.

  “Is His Excellency in?” Ella asked.

  “No. He has flown to Egypt.”

  “Egypt?” Ella hadn’t expected that. “When will he be home?”

  “I cannot say. He took a large suitcase, so I suspect a few days at least.”

  Ella thanked the maid and turned to return home. Walking slowly through the garden, she wondered why he hadn’t told her. She almost went back to see if he had responded to a fire. That would cause every moment to be precious as he packed and left and he might not think to let his fake fiancée know of his plans. But the maid had said he had a large suitcase and might be gone awhile. No sense of urgency in her tone. Had he just left?

  Ella debated calling Bethanne to ask if she knew what Khalid was doing, but decided she would not.

  Still at the front of the main house, Ella turned when a car drove down the driveway. She recognized her brother even before he got out of the vehicle.

  “Ella,” he said.

  “Antonio. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to speak to Khalid al Harum. I’ve spoken with father and he entrusts me to handle things. Are you visiting, as well?”

  “What things?” Did he not know she lived on the estate? If not, she didn’t plan to tell him. She was more interested in what her father wanted Antonio to handle.

  “Marriage settlements,” Antonio said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Dowery?” she asked, walking closer to her brother.

  He looked uncomfortable. “Not exactly.”

  “Exactly what? I’ve moved away from home. I was married several years to another man. I can’t imagine why there would be any talk of settlements unless you plan to see if Khalid would give something to get out of the mess Giacomo caused. Which I absolutely forbid.”

  “Forbid? You can’t do that—it’s between me and your future husband.”

  “If you even speak to him about that, I’ll refuse to marry him,” she said recklessly. She would not put Khalid in such a situation. She was embarrassed to even think of her family asking the man for money. It would be bad enough if they were madly in love and truly engaged. But this was humiliating. She would not let Antonio do it.

  He studied her for a moment. “If you don’t marry him, you can come home and marry someone else.”

  “I may never marry again,” she said, stepping up to her brother and tapping his chest with her forefinger. “But I sure will never marry someone I don’t love. Giacomo got himself into this mess, let him get himself out of it. I am not a pawn to be used like in feudal days. I can’t believe even our father would consider such a thing.”

  “Your family needs you,” Antonio said, capturing her hand and pushing it away. “The sheikh has more money than anyone we know. He wouldn’t miss a few thousand euros. Let him help us.”

  “No! I mean it, if you talk to him about this, I’ll vanish and it’ll be years before you find me next time.”

  Her brother stared at her for a long moment. “We need help, Ella,” he said softly. “Where else can we go? We cannot make it known in Italy or the business will suffer. If we don’t get an infusion of cash soon, it will come out. A company in dire straits loses business which could help it get out of trouble. Then takeovers are bandied about. The business has been in our family for generations, for centuries. Would you see all that gone?”

  “No, of course not. Look for other ways. Mother’s jewelry—”

  “Most already copied in paste and the originals sold.”

  That surprised Ella. Things were worse than she envisioned.

  “Is Giacomo still gambling?” Ella asked, horrified at the lengths her family had already gone. She felt herself softening to them. They had practically excommunicated her when she married Alexander. But they were still her family. The problem seemed larger than she’d realized from what Antonio said.

  “No. But the fallout is lasting.”

  “Go home, Antonio. If I can, I’ll send some money.” It was too bad her trust fund was not available until she turned thirty. Maybe she could borrow against that. Or she could see about selling some of her artwork. Madame al Harum had thought it had merit. Would others?

  He looked at the house.

  “Khalid is not home. He had a business trip to Egypt. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

  Antonio nodded. “Very well, then. Come visit, Ella. Your mother misses you.”

  “One day.” It was hard to overlook the obstacles her parents had thrown in her way when she had married Alexander. But she knew her husband never wanted her to be parted from her family. He would not want her holding on to wrongs of the past.

  She watched Antonio drive away and began to walk back to the cottage. Alexander would not have wanted her to be a widow all her life, either. He had loved life, loved her and would always want the best for her. Including another husband who could bring her happiness.

  Wistfully, she wished Khalid had the same thoughts.

  It was amazing the absence of one slightly standoffish man made. As the days went by, Ella gradually resumed her former routine. Working during the day, long walks after dark. Always alone. Only
her enjoyment of being alone had been disturbed. She missed Khalid. Which only went to reinforce her belief she had to get on with her life and not grow attached to him.

  The bright spot in the week was a visit by Bethanne. She was driving a new car Rashid had just bought for her and wanted to take Ella for a spin.

  “It’s no fun to have a brand-new convertible and have no one to share it with,” she said as the two began driving away from the estate.

  “And Rashid doesn’t want to go?”

  “He has one of his own. I’m sure he’s not as enchanted with the convertible as I am. Isn’t it great?” She drove to the coast highway and flew along the sea. Ella glanced at the speedometer once and then quickly looked away. Obviously the pilot in Bethanne had no qualms about flying low. Instead of worrying, Ella relaxed and enjoyed the ride. The blue of the Persian Gulf was on their right. The road was straight and smooth. The wind through her hair made her feel carefree and happy. With sudden insight, she realized she was happy. In this day, in this moment. Worries were gone. Plans and projects on hold. Nothing held her back. She could enjoy this time and not feel sad or guilty.

  It had taken a long time, but she knew she was ready to embrace life again. To find all it had to offer and enjoy every speck of the journey—even the heartbreaks and hardships.

  “You’re quiet,” Bethanne said with a smile. “What are you thinking?”

  Ella told her and Bethanne nodded. “I know the feeling. But I have an excuse. I’m in love. The colors in the sea seem brighter because Rashid’s in my life. The flowers more delicate and lovely, especially when I’m in the garden with him. But I bet coming out of grieving is like falling in love with life again. I’m so sorry for your loss, but time does heal wounds. I was so devastated when I learned my dad was really dead. I grieved both before and after I found out. Then I realized he had loved life. He had done exactly as he had wanted throughout and had no regrets at the end. That’s what I want.”

  “No regrets?”

 

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